#and i love not drowning in student debt

[aqpippin]

are you a doctor?

absolutely not and i love that for me

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (07)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, drama, OC cusses excessively so watch out, blood, pregnancy, discussion of abortion, giving birth

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 6.1k

← Previous Chapter (06) | Next Chapter (08) →

****

Six Years Ago, 2017:

France was not all that you expected. One would think people pursuing their doctorate degrees would be busier with their academic lives, but it looked like French people cared more about their social lives.

"Come on, just a few more steps!" Elyna, your classmate, chuckled while dragging your warm, sweaty body across the street. She almost tasted victory when she got a glimpse of the façade of your apartment.

Admittedly, Elyna still gets jealous whenever she remembers your apartment being nicer than hers. Talk about favoritism, huh? You were both scholars of Sorbonne University pursuing your doctorate degrees, but Professor Verlaine liked you the most.

"There you go! You can look after yourself, right? Bye, cutie." Elyna kissed your cheek before practically throwing you in your front door.

You were smaller in stature compared to your French classmates, making it easier for them to push and pull you around. You groaned when your back hit the door.

You were too drunk to cuss your classmate, so you could only suck it up and push yourself to enter your apartment. After what felt like forever, you finally stumbled inside, puffing out a breath and debating whether to just sleep on the floor.

Hours of clubbing with your classmates messed you up. You shouldn't have gone with them, but those shitty French didn't really give you a choice. Even Verlaine encouraged you to go out, going as far as postponing the submission of your business paper so you could have a fun Friday night.

Verlaine's exact words were, "Have fun. You've been in France for months already. You're the only international student who hasn't gone clubbing here."

You did not care for clubs. In fact, you hated them. You only attended your graduation parties and some quiet bars with Jungkook.

"Hah! Stupid pompous freak!" You cussed your traitor of a best friend, wanting nothing but to beat yourself for thinking about that bastard. You had done so well suppressing thoughts about Jungkook for the whole day. It's ten minutes before midnight. How could you fail so miserably?

You struggled to fish your phone out of your pocket, vision doubling, but that did not stop you from sending chains of messages to Jungkook.

To: Jungkook-shit I fucking hate you traitor

To: Jungkook-shit yoi betrayed me freak,. i hope you rot in hell

To: Jungkook-shit fucker

To: Jungkook-shit i hate you so mcuch pleas fo me a favor snd die

To: Jungkook-shit i will ndcevef dorgive you digshfit 

To: Jungkook-shit dick 

To: Jungkook-shit duck you

To: Jungkook-shit ny heart hirts

To: Jungkook-shitcan we go back?

The last message remained unsent as your intoxication finally caught up to you. You dropped your phone on the floor, face hitting the cold tiles as darkness clouded your vision.

You fell asleep.

***

That night, you had a long dream, which you were pretty sure had happened in real life—back when you were still very small, probably at five years old.

If you thought about it, you'd say the dream slash memory was triggered by going to a club with Elyna and the others. Your dream started off in a club, too.

Your Jisoo-unnie told you to hide in the closet and never make a sound, no matter who tried calling your name. You were an obedient child, only trusting your older sister. But it didn't mean your mother was as kind as Jisoo. Your mom would boss you around as she entertained guests. You basically served as an errand girl at a young age, forced to keep your mouth shut even when you saw your mother and the other girls get violently beaten up by rogue men.

"Where is my sister!?"

You were lighting heavy scented candles for your mother and client when you heard your sister's voice.

Your ears involuntarily perked up. You threw the matchbox aside and immediately ran out of the club's private room.

"Jisoo-unnie?" You blinked innocently.

Your sister was standing there, looking as if she was going to smack your mother. But Jisoo stopped when she heard you call for her.

"Don't take her away!" Your mother screeched and tried to pull Jisoo's hair.

Jisoo dodged, immediately running toward you and hugging your frail body. She covered your ears. "I will take her away! Please. Stop it! She’s just a kid!"

"Bah!" Your mother spat. "She earns me money, unlike a brat like you!"

"I will take her place." Jisoo did not even hesitate. She hugged you tighter. "Let me be your errand girl or whatever you want me to do. I will do it. Just leave her alone."

You couldn't properly hear what the adults were talking about. Jisoo covered your ear tighter to ensure you heard nothing. It took a while before your mother spat on the ground for the second time, but she relented and let Jisoo take you away.

Your memories were pretty vague. All you remembered was that Jisoo had brought you into a tiny apartment; it was cramped and dark and smelled like dead rats. But it was better than those heavy-scented rooms at the club. At least in here, Jisoo cared for you and did not try to beat you up.

It didn't mean all your trauma would go away instantly, though. There were many moments when you would wake up in the middle of the night, silently crying because of a nightmare. You usually dreamt about your mother's client beating up girls and throwing profanities at everyone, including you.

"It's okay, my little one. Your Jisoo-unnie is here, I'll protect you." You weren't sure if you were recalling memories of the past or if it was just part of your drunken dream. All you knew was that Jisoo's warm embrace was palpable. She used to cradle your little body in her arms.

You were a docile kid, wings clipped by those men at the club. They used to threaten to beat you up if you so much as made a small noise or a mistake. For a long time, you carried that pain and refused to talk to your Jisoo-unnie, or anyone else, for that matter. At school, kids made fun of you for acting all meek and weak.

There was a time when Jisoo was called by your teacher, asking if there was something wrong at home for you to act so distantly. You were seven years old around at this time, and you still didn't understand adult words. You just recalled your teacher telling Jisoo that you needed therapy or whatever that was.

Jisoo was barely of legal age. Your mother had a cut whenever Jisoo took in clients at the club. She spent more than half her money to feed you and ensure you could attend class.

Your Jisoo-unnie only had one reminder: "Study well, my dear. That's all I ask. You can get anything you want if you're smart and have lots of money."

You still didn't speak much but diligently followed whatever your sister said. Things took a turn after your teacher talked to Jisoo. The latter took the teacher's advice to heart, but she didn't have enough money to bring you to a professional. She could simply improvise.

"My dear, there's nothing to be scared of anymore, okay? I won't ever hurt you the way they did. Here," Jisoo offered her cheek to you. "You can slap me and tell me all the bad things those men did to you, I won't ever fight back."

You shook your head rapidly, cowering. Memories of those nasty men came like a tidal wave, sweeping you off your feet until you felt nauseated.

"Sshh, my dear. It's okay. Just try, okay...You're okay."

It took a lot of conviction before you relented. Every day, Jisoo would coax you to act like a regular kid who was not frightened of acting difficult and throwing tantrums. She made you feel like it was okay to be mean and that whatever you did or said, you would still be loved—this was the beginning of you having a sharp mouth that couldn't go one statement with profanities leaving your mouth.

You got away with so many things because of Jisoo.

That had been your setup for many years, but your life slowly progressed. You worked hard in school while Jisoo did all the jobs available to her. You got out of that tiny apartment and were able to move to a new house. You were initially reluctant to leave, afraid you would lose connection with the first friend you made in the neighborhood—Jungkook.

You didn't talk to Jungkook before, either. You two would casually sit beside each other and be in your own world.

"You don't have an adult at home? Cool, me too." That was the first thing Jungkook told you. You weren't bothered by his presence before, but Jungkook had become insufferable over time, teasing you here and there until you had to snarl at him.

Despite your banter, you had grown attached to Jungkook and even begged Jisoo not to separate you. Jisoo smiled at you, ruffling your hair and explaining that you would only move to a nicer home, but it was still around the area.

You felt relief flood your veins. Things were going well. You slowly healed from your traumatic childhood as you stayed close to Jungkook and your Jisso-unnie. Your sister kept her promise, never once leaving you.

Every day, Jisoo would go home to you. You gingerly waited for your sister to arrive; you'd set aside your homework and other stuff to open your front door and greet Jisoo with a simple "Welcome home!"

You couldn't maintain your happy façade as Jisoo smiled faintly at you, coughing and smelling like smoke. There were bags under her eyes, too exhausted at her work at the club.

You were getting older. You thought you could apply for a part-time job and help your sibling with the expenses, but Jisoo wanted you to focus on your studies. She brushed your concern off, saying, "It's just secondhand smoke. You know those men at the club, they can't live without cigarettes. Don't worry."

As usual, you blindly followed your sister's request. You hid your verbal concerns and could only welcome her home with hot water with honey. You did your best to care for your Jisoo-unnie until you moved to the university dorm and got busier with school. As time passed, your time with Jisoo lessened until it reached a point where Jisoo would not contact you. She even went as far as betraying you.

She must have known, right? How could she not know that you were hopelessly in love with Jungkook? How could the two most important people in your life betray you like this?

It just didn't make sense.

But then again, nothing made sense—not when feelings were involved. For instance, you flew all the way to Europe so you wouldn't have to deal with the mess back in Incheon. You had cut off connections with Jungkook and Jisoo, but months later, right when you were recovering from your hangover from clubbing too much, was when your doorbell rang.

It's probably Professor Verlaine, you thought. You didn't bother checking the peephole because, for one, you didn't want to see your professor looking prim and proper while you looked like shit. You were still wearing your clothes from last night and you just got up from the floor. Seeing Verlaine at the peephole would make you want to freshen up first; you just didn't have the energy for that.

And for fuck's sake. It's seven in the morning. Seven! Anyone who dared to disturb you at this ungodly hour deserved to see your bed hair, drool on the side of your mouth included.

So you opened the door, fully expecting to grin at your professor, but your smile froze mid-air.

You were still hungover, yet your reflexes were as agile as ever.

You slammed the door shut—no, wait, that's wrong. You swore you were about to slam the door shut. You were not a pushover and didn't intend to talk to your traitor sister.

But you stood there, stiff and unable to shut the door to her face when you heard her cough.

A stupid fucking cough.

Jisoo coughed, and you felt as if you were a child again, excited to open the door and welcome your sister home with hot water mixed with honey from the comb.

***

In hindsight, you should have seen it coming. Jisoo could go a long time without contacting you, though she could never cut you off completely.

Once, she promised to stay with you forever, and until now, that promise still stands.

A promise is a promise.

Jisoo was sitting on your couch. You foolishly let her in, heart still throbbing after hearing your sister's cough. It was just a stupid cough, yet you felt your resolve crumbling.

This can't be. You couldn't possibly still have a soft spot for her.

"Ya having a sidepiece spawn?"—so you attacked her.

Jisoo visibly flinched at the roughness of your tone. You sighed a breath of relief. Her expression would help you sleep at night: Jisoo lowered her eyes, lashes trembling because of your intense look at her stomach. You longed to damage her heart until all she wished to do was run.

Jisoo called your name, choking back a sob. It was hard to say if it was because of the guilt she felt toward you or if it was because of what you called her unborn child.

Yes, Jisoo was heavily pregnant.

It was unfair. Jisoo felt the kick in her belly while you felt like your heart had been stomped.

"It's Jungkook's." There was no room for rebuttal. You said it with finality.

Jisoo didn't deny it, either.

"Of fucking course." You chuckled mercilessly. "How many rounds of 'playing around' did it take before you finally managed to get knocked up?"

"We weren't playing around." Jisoo defended. It was real. The thing they have done, it was real. "But I never dated him."

You scoffed. "But you fucked him." Your jaw slackened. Looking at your sister ignited your anger.

"Once." Jisoo was desperate.

You did not know what to feel anymore. A searing headache hit you. You barked a laugh.

"Tell me, Jisoo-unnie," you said pointedly. You might as well knife her heart. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Crashing defeat settled at the pit of Jisoo's stomach. The baby kicked her tummy aggressively like it was punishing her, too.

Jisoo called your name, trying again. "It was a one-time thing."

"A one-time thing." You repeated. It was probably said to reassure you, but it didn't. If anything, you just found a way to nitpick her excuse. "Not a one-time mistake?"

Jisoo inhaled sharply. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to cup her stomach to calm her baby, but she saw your piercing gaze there, leaving Jisoo no choice but to keep her hands on her side.

"We were both drunk. I admit, it was a moment of weakness."

Cliche. You snarled, feeling acid burn your throat. You wanted to vomit bile. "Still not calling it a mistake?"

"We both wanted it."

"Why!" Millions of questions attacked your head at once. Why did you betray me!? Why did you sleep with him, out of all people!? Was it good!? Was it worth breaking my trust? Why did you want it!?

Jisoo parted her lips, seemingly ready to answer your query, but you raised your hand to shut her up.

Jisoo obediently followed. 

"Don't answer that." You felt your knees buckling. You wanted to crawl and die.

"It is—"

"Please, stop." You were certain your heart had been broken to pieces, and you thought there was no way Jisoo could shatter it more.

But now you weren’t so sure anymore.

You could only storm off to your room, slamming the door and hoping Jisoo would leave you alone.

***

Jisoo did not leave you alone. She was sheepishly sitting on the couch when you emerged from your room.

"You're still here," you observed, no snark in your voice, but exhaustion was there. 

"I will be here," Jisoo responded with a small smile.

You ignored her, but she kept her promise.

She stayed the whole day in your home. The next day, she was still there.

Then the next.

And the next day.

And the next day.

And the next day.

And the next day.

And the next day.

You couldn't keep track anymore.

***

You and Jisoo were certainly not on good terms or talking terms. Fortunately, you learned to cohabitate without tearing each other apart.

Sometimes, you would buy baby clothes for Jisoo's child. You’d leave the shopping bag on the couch where your sister usually sat. However, you wouldn’t wait to see her reaction after checking the clothes.

Once, though, you accidentally saw her hugging the new clothes you had bought.

You caught Jisoo's gaze. Your sister smiled shyly at you.

Unlike before, you didn't immediately look away. In fact, you gazed at her as if asking, "It's white. A pretty neutral color. That should work, right?"

You weren't siblings without a reason. Jisoo picked up the question in your eyes.

She embraced the clothes tighter. "It's a boy. You’re going to have a nephew."

You did not react. You cast your gaze away and wordlessly left your sister alone.

But the next day, you had ten shopping bags in your hand. You left them at the usual spot.

Blue. You brought blue clothes and a bunch of toys.

You also brought pink clothes because assigning colors to gender was stupid.

But also because your nephew would surely look cute in blue, pink, and all other colors.

***

Jisoo was 32 weeks pregnant when you made up your mind to say something to her.

"That's it." You barged into the bathroom, catching your sister on the spot. She was vomiting blood.

Jisoo gave a start; her eyes were glistening with tears when she snapped her head up and met your glare. She hurriedly wiped her mouth.

"Why are you here?" Jisoo felt cornered, so she stepped back like a frightened lamb.

You smacked your lips together, finding this situation ridiculous. Jisoo had already slept with Jungkook; nothing could ever top that betrayal, so why was she acting like you would strangle her for puking blood?

"This is my apartment, in case you forgot."

"That's not what I meant." Jisoo inhaled as she struggled to swallow blood back to her stomach. "You're supposed to be at school."

"Yeah, whatever I skipped." You couldn't bear to see your trembling sister any longer. You helped her sit on the wide edge of the bathtub.

You worried about your Jisoo-unnie. She'd been retching in the bathroom almost daily. She thought she could hide it by turning the faucet on to muffle the sound, but she was wrong.

You planned to put an end to this. Your brow creased. "Enough with your bullshit. You are thirty-two weeks pregnant, and you can't possibly still be experiencing morning sickness. Even if you were, you'd be vomiting vile or that strawberry yogurt you've been eating every day. Not fucking blood."

"It's fine." Jisoo brushed it off, making a move to stand and end this conversation. You two never talked for more than one minute since she arrived, so why were you being loud now?

"You are not getting out of this conversation." You blocked her way out, glaring at her with the storm in your eyes. "I'll ask again. Why are you vomiting blood?"

The silence was deafening.

You wanted to punch the mirror. You cursed your sister; your eyes were turning bloodshot. The betrayal from before was back in full force. The fact that Jisoo wasn't telling you anything made you feel like she was hiding a nasty secret again.

You couldn't handle any more treachery. You might actually die.

"Don't lie to me again—" You cut yourself off, afraid you’d make yourself look pathetic by murmuring a soft please.

Jisoo stubbornly refused to speak. She watched as tears fell into her open palm.

She had done so well hiding this. She didn't want to tell you about her sickness, but every second that passed made Jisoo feel like the distance between you and her was stretching.

In the end, she could only concede. 

"I'm dying." Shallow breath. "I've cancer."

This time, it wasn't the distance that stretched but the silence.

Jisoo dared to peek at your reaction as the silence made her uncomfortable. Only two people knew she was sick: Jungkook and now you.

Jungkook at least hugged her and wiped her hands, telling her it would be all right.

But Jungkook was Jungkook. She hadn't done anything to hurt him.

But you? She shattered and betrayed you, so she should have expected it when she heard your giddy chuckle. However, when Jisoo looked at you, no sign of happiness or sadness could be traced on your face.

It was eerily impassive.

And then she heard you say:

"Good. That's good. I hope you die."

The bathroom door slammed shut, leaving Jisoo with tears in her eyes and kicking unborn child.

****

Jisoo was 33 weeks pregnant when you gave up on radio silence. Your sister was lying on the bed she bought herself. Your apartment only had one bedroom, but Jisoo still squeezed herself in. Seeing her dozing off on the couch was a pain, so one day, you brought brochures where Jisoo could choose a bed of her liking.

Jisoo bought a single bed, putting it close to your bed. You two slept without bothering each other. Tonight, though, you couldn't take it anymore.

You lay on your side, staring directly at Jisoo. Your sister was already looking at you.

She smiled and said hi.

You didn't bother with greetings. You went straight to the point.

"What type of cancer." It was like you were reporting the weather, refusing to ask the question properly. Your monotonous voice made you appear apathetic. No one knew how heavy your heart was.

"Does it matter?" Jisoo cupped her bulging belly. Her baby seemed excited whenever he heard his aunt speaking. He was wildly kicking Jisoo's belly.

"Tsk. Just answer the damn question. Why do you have to make everything difficult?"

This was starting to get on your nerves. Even after everything that happened, you still weren’t used to Jisoo not indulging you.

"It's not difficult. It just doesn't matter. I'm dying, anyway." Just like what you wanted. But Jisoo didn't say the last part. She was not in a position to hold grudges against you.

You hugged your pillow to your chest like you wanted to shield your heart that was about to jump out of your body.

"Just answer."

It was getting harder for you to breathe. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead; you couldn't seem to get the image of Jisoo coughing in your head.

Please don't let it be lung cancer. Please don't let it be lung cancer. Please don't let it be lung cancer. Please don't let it be lung cancer. Please don't let it be lung cancer—

"It's lung cancer."

Your heart missed a beat.

"How much time do you have left?" You dug your nails into the pillow while Jisoo sighed. She was sure you couldn't wait for her to die.

"Not too long. Maybe I'll pass soon after I have my baby."

"But why." Jisoo wasn't sure if she was imagining things, but she thought she heard you whine. "Don't you have a treatment plan? Fucking chemotherapy and stuff?"

"Chemotherapy is harmful for the baby." Jisoo's tone was soft.

"Fuck the baby!"

Even you were surprised by how resentful you were. But it was true, wasn't it? Her baby was the devil's spawn. It was the fruit of betrayal, so why was Jisoo choosing it over herself?

"Why didn't you abort it?" You abruptly sat on the bed, shooting daggers at Jisoo. A whirlpool of abuse danced at the tip of your tongue. You didn't voice it out because Jisoo looked sad.

"Don't be like that to Soobin."

"Who the fuck is Soobin? Why should I care!?"

"It's your nephew's name," Jisoo explained patiently as she caressed her stomach. Soobin had stopped kicking, probably scared of his aunt.

"That's such a basic name. It's so ugly. I hate it. I hate him."

You didn't give your sister a chance to speak. "Forget it." You turned off the lampshade. "I don't want to talk to you anymore. I'm going to sleep."

You laid back down. Darkness enveloped the room. This was better. This way, you couldn't see the sadness in Jisoo’s face.

But you couldn't sleep. You tossed and turned all night, but nothing worked.

It's my fault. You wanted to say. Jisoo got cancer because of you. That club was a rotten place. You should've stopped her from working there.

Lung cancer. What a bullshit thing to have.

"Don't die." A week ago, you were saying the complete opposite. "If you die, I'll chase you to hell. You can't die, Jisoo."

You still have debts to pay. I have not forgiven you yet. You have to suffer my eternal wrath, so do not die before me.

*** In Jisoo's 34th week of pregnancy, you had asked her another question.

"Why did you do it?"

Jisoo didn't need context. She knew exactly what you were talking about, but like before, you cut her off before she could explain.

"Never mind." You covered your face with a blanket and slept.

***

In Jisoo's 35th week of pregnancy, you pestered her again about chemotherapy.

"I told you already. It's harmful for Soobin."

"And I told you already, I don't care about Soobin." You rebutted.

This bedtime routine was tiring Jisoo. She felt like she was arguing with a wall.

"Good night," so she just turned off the lampshade and went to bed.

*** You asked about the betrayal again in Jisoo's 36th week of pregnancy.

"Are you sure you want to know now?" Jisoo's carefulness shot your heart.

You shook your head, your chest heaving.

"No," you admitted. "Never mind it."

***

Jisoo's 37th weeks pregnant when you panicked upon seeing her looking like she was in a lot of pain.

"What's the matter?" Your heart leaped to your throat. You were beside Jisoo at once.

Jisoo bit her lip and wiped the sweat on her forehead. "It's nothing. Your nephew's just being naughty. He keeps kicking my tummy."

Oh.

Your heartbeat returned to normal. And then you snorted and folded your arms across your chest. "Tell that scrub to shut his trap and quit being annoying."

You were about to return to your bed when Jisoo seized your wrist.

You flinched, but you didn't push her away.

It gave Jisoo the courage to push through her suggestion. She cleared her throat, "Why don't you pacify him yourself? He's quite obedient. Here, I'll guide you."

Jisoo slowly led your hand to her tummy. Your hand was stiff at first, almost resisting when you had contact with the skin of Jisoo's belly.

"Sshh, it's okay, dear." Jisoo's voice was like a lullaby. You relaxed at once.

It took you a while before you finally started caressing your sister's stomach without wanting to die.

And then you felt it.

"Oh!" Your eyes grew big. "He kicked me! Your kid kicked me!"

An involuntary chuckle came out of Jisoo. "Yes, he likes his aunt a lot."

"Hmp." You withdrew your hands. "Too bad I don't care about him."

Jisoo didn't react because, deep down, you were fooling no one.

***

You asked about the betrayal again in Jisoo's 38th week of pregnancy. Jisoo had learned her lesson, so she did not speak and pretended to be asleep.

***

You found the courage to be honest in Jisoo's 39th week of pregnancy.

"I take it back." You gripped your blanket. "Soobin isn't so bad. I think his name is cute."

Jisoo gasped, which had you worrying. You thought your sister was in pain again. These days, all she did was vomit blood.

However, Jisoo's gasp was because of plain surprise. She beamed at you, "Soobin just kicked me three times. He means to say he loves you."

"You're an idiot, and you know it." You clicked your tongue in disgust, "Tell your devil spawn I hate him."

Your words were harsh, but Jisoo knew your heart was melting.

Just a few more. Jisoo mused, mentally patting her baby's head. Your aunt’s gonna warm up to you soon, Bin-bin.

***

Jisoo was in her 40th week of pregnancy when she gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

It took a while before you got out of the hospital because of Jisoo's worsening condition. Thankfully, you were there to look after Soobin.

"Welcome home, mon bébé," you secretly whispered when you finally got home.

Soobin cooed at you, and you wanted to cry.

You stopped calling Soobin the devil's spawn.

***

Jisoo's 3 weeks postpartum, and she was delirious.

"Jisoo-unnie, it's time for your medicine." You were sitting in your sister's bed with a glass of water in your hand.

"Honey water again...?" She blinked, eyes unfocused. She was hot to touch. "I don't want honey water. You make them too sweet."

"This is not honey water." You tried to make her drink, but Jisoo was stubborn.

She called your name. “My dear, please. You have to listen to me, alright? Hide in the closet. Don't answer even when mom calls for you. I will..." She cupped your cheek. "I will be back for you, okay?"

Postpartum was foreign to you, but you figured your sister was struggling.

"There's no need to hide. I'm not a five-year-old anymore, Jisoo-unnie."

It was the wrong thing to say because Jisoo scowled. She was unhappy, though she kept caressing your face.

"What are you saying? You'll always be my little girl."

***

Jisoo's 9 weeks postpartum when her mind cleared up. Regrettably, her body became weaker.

"You can't even carry your own baby," you taunted, peering down at your bedridden sister as you gently rocked Soobin in your arms.

Your nephew was so well-behaved.

"It's okay." Jisoo coughed. "Soobin has you."

"I'm not a babysitter." You jutted your chin, annoyed. "Hurry up and get better. I'm getting tired of—oh."

You weren't able to finish whatever you were saying. You couldn't even remember what you were trying to prove. All your thoughts vanished when Soobin wrapped his tiny hand around your pinky.

"Jisoo-unnie! Look! Look! He's holding me!" You stepped closer to Jisoo's bed, crouching down so your sister could see.

Jisoo forced out a smile. But that small action was taxing to her body. She coughed up blood again. She wiped it before you could see it.

"That's good. That's really, really good...."

***

Jisoo was 10 weeks postpartum, and she was still rotting in bed.

"You have to force yourself to get better," you demanded, a deep scowl on your lips. "Just look at your son. He clings to me a lot. Do you want him to recognize me as his mom?"

Your statement was meant to be threatening, but it made Jisoo happier.

"He is yours, dear." Her voice was barely above a whisper. She didn't have the energy to speak louder, but she could still smile. "He is meant to stay by your side."

"Shut up." You rolled your eyes. "I'm not cut out to be a parent. This is your mess. I was not there when you made him." I was against you making him. You hurt me.

Jisoo's forehead creased, though. She didn't agree with you. "But I made him for you."

What?

You couldn't believe your ears. If postpartum was this kind of bitch, then you were willing to fight it. It was making your Jisoo-unnie act crazy. She was full of shit.

"Soobin...stay...you..." And she was blabbering random words.

You touched her forehead. She was burning. Her fever was probably making her crazy.

"Next time, I'm bringing you to an asylum." Soobin slept soundly in his crib, so you had time to care for your sister. You put a wet towel on her forehead. "You're crazy, did you know that? Who would have thought a cute baby like Soobin came from a nasty girl like you?"

Jisoo's scowl deepened. She struggled and weakly caught your wrist. "No. Soobin looks like...me."

You glanced at Soobin's sleeping form. Yeah, right.

"Keep dreaming. It's free."

"No." Jisoo cried. It looked like she took your statement to heart. "He looks like me...he should look like me..."

Suddenly, Jisoo was crying. You were stunned. What was this drama queen crying for!?

"He looks like me. Please. He should remind me of you. I'm dying, I'm dying. I'm dying--!!"

Your eyes widened. Jisoo was out of control. She was sobbing and kicking her feet, albeit weakly.

"Jisoo-unnie, calm down." You held her hands, giving up. "I believe you, okay? Soobin looks like you."

She was easy to pacify. She stopped crying at once, and then she cupped your cheeks.

"My dear, my little one...I'm sorry, your Jisoo-unnie can't keep her promise to you. I'm going soon. Stay...stay with Soobin, alright?"

Jisoo slowly trailed off. The terrible realization slapped you in the face.

You were shaking, bile crawling to your throat when you connected the dots:

There was a high possibility that Jisoo, your sister, planned on sleeping with Jungkook so she could get pregnant. She wished to get pregnant because, after all this time, she still saw you as a little girl who needed someone by her side.

And since she was dying, she needed someone to...

You stopped thinking. You looked at Soobin's sleeping form and sobbed; your sister's words echoed in your mind:

Stay with Soobin. I made him for you.

Fuck.

***

In Jisoo's twisted way, what she did was for your sake. Unfortunately, you did not ask any of this.

Jisoo was 15 weeks postpartum. She was like a withered flower. No color was left on her face. Death was around the corner.

"Are you there, my dear?"

You did not answer. The question you didn't have an answer to entered your mind. You hadn't asked in a long time. Should you?

"Why did you betray me?" You asked it aloud before you could think properly. You thought Jisoo's too weak to answer, but she forced herself to speak.

"I was lonely. We were both lonely."

In the grand scheme of things, that explanation should have made sense. Lonely people sought comfort. You should be the first to understand that. But you didn't. It only brought you pain.

"I can't make you happy?" But you were her sister and Jungkook...Jungkook was your best friend. How could you not know that the people you loved were suffering? That they were lonely? Were you that...insensitive?

"It's not about you." Jisoo groaned. She was in a lot of pain. "You will never understand our grief. Your life is...a bliss."

The pain was unbearable. You wanted to cover your ears. You regretted asking that question, but you just couldn't stop.

"So you don't trust me? You don't think I'd understand you?" Did Jungkook think so too?

Jisoo didn't give a clear answer. She couldn't breathe. Her chest was stuffy.

Silence prevailed.

You stared blankly at Jisoo.

Jisoo struggled to maintain her breathing. She called your name.

"Have you forgiven me?"

It took you an eternity to respond, but your tone was biting when you did.

"You and Jungkook bonded over something you thought I was too immature to understand, so tell me, Jisoo-unnie, how can I forgive you?"

It meant to hurt. But Jisoo smiled through the pain.

She seemed...happy.

"Good…Good. Don't forgive me. I don't deserve it."

Blood. There was blood everywhere. Jisoo was barely awake.

"But leave Soobin...out of your...anger. That kid will love you. I swear, he will love you."

You had no plans to give Soobin away.

"I know...I am in no position to ask you anything, but...Jungkook...he must know about his son. He deserves that much, no--" She seemed to shake her head. "Soobin deserves that much....Promise me, in three..."

She paused. She was thinking....calculating...

"No four...four years...three years..." It was getting confusing. "Return him home in three years. Ugh."

Jisoo couldn't hold on.

She called your name. “ You and Soobin...you two are my life...I love you...I'll see..." you.

Jisoo didn't get to finish her last statement. She died, eyes clamped shut and blood splattering everywhere.

She died while her son slept, and you wept.

**** A/N: I wrote this for so many hours...this is not edited, I feel like I'm going to vomit if I read this chapter one more time. Imdeadtired.exe.

We will be back in the present in the next chapter.

← Previous Chapter (06) | Next Chapter (08) →

[flowerfreya]

Dr. Dad

part 1

This picks up where we left off from part 1. I am still learning how to link post and such so cut me some slack please lol

Pairing : Simon "Ghost" Riley / Reader

The reader is a 5th year resident that just had a baby with Simon who is an Attending. The reader does not want anyone to know that they are together until she makes fellow at the hospital.

He lets out a little smirk. His face turns serious for a moment. 

“My love know you don't have to come back to work so soon”

You sigh you knew that was coming. He’s been saying this since you told him that you were going back to work last week after you placed Bella into her bassinet. He was silent for a while just standing in the doorway of the bathroom. 

Looking at you. 

Assessing you. 

Trying to think of something to say to convince you not to do. 

 You had a relatively easy birth, having the birth of the baby at the hospital closest to your home and not the one you work at. It's not that you don't want anyone to know about you and Simon but , the relationship started when you were on his surgical rotation which is not allowed. You did let HR know about the relationship after you were off his rotation and the start date of your relationship officially is when you started your oncology rotation, which you really needed support for anyway.

When you fell pregnant you told Simon almost immediately. It was not an ideal time , you were a fifth year resident with little to no time on your hands , drowning in student loan debt, and you're barely making 60k a year. Simon on the other hand is an attending physician with over 6 years of experience in the field and 3 years working at the hospital. He was happy and together you let the medical director know about the relationship and pregnancy and those are the only people you told. 

When you started to show , there was a lot of rumors surrounding you.

It has to be one of the other residents , its the xrays tech baby , she always gets her patient pushed to the front 

You did nothing to dispel the talk, much to Simon’s disagreement.

“Let me say something”, he says one night after a 16 hour day. 

“You can say something , just don't say that your mine” you say 

You have an issue with being hyper independent, you realize that in fact a little to much. You love Simon but you let him know that you will be a working mom , you will be keeping your last name, and no one will know that you are dating Simon until you make Fellow , which is why you need to get back to work. 

Your mother was a godsend and also retired so when you called and let her know you were going back to work she didn’t try to convince you not to do it she just ask,“how can I help.”

 A knock on the door brings you back to the present. 

You sigh and proceed to unlatch the breast pump and hand them to Simon. He has a mini fridge and you dont trust these other residents to not fuck with your milk. 

Another this time harder and longer 

“One Second” you say brightly. While Simon glares at the door while towards it to unlock it. 

One of the 3rd year residents walks in and looks a little a pale. Lets you know that Graves is looking for you.

"Does he seem upset", You don't really care if he is but you would like to prepare how preppy you should act towards him. You firmly believe in killing people with kindness especially when it has to do with Graves who probably drinks Interns tears for breakfast , lunch and dinner.

"Is he bother you?", Simon ask. To anyone else it sounds like a normal question one of concern from a colleague. But you know he's worried he ask the question like it pains him from going to find Graves and tell him to lay off. No one likes Graves but he technically isn't doing anything wrong , he has the right to kick anyone out of his OR, to make interns scribe all his charts , and terrorize his residents until they rather to scut work then be in presence.

"Nothing that I can't handle" , you smile at him and then look to the resident that was sent to retrieve you.

"I'm right behind you", the resident turns and just about runs out the room.

You hand the milk to Simon and place a quick kiss on his lips, he makes an almost groaning sound and drags you back for another kiss , a deeper kiss with his hand tighting around your hips. You pull away with a little giggle, "I miss you too" you say , your eyes lowering that makes it known exactly what you miss.

You straighten your clothes back up , make sure that you don't look at tired as you seem and head out to another 4 hours of running around like you are fresh intern right from medical school and not a tired mom that just wants to sleep on the couch holding your baby.

[shinsmarlboro]

Baji with a lover, who is a successful entrepreneur.

TAGS: SFW && gender neutral y/n.

when accompanying you to an event, baji definitely hypes you up, give you a standing ovation, and trust that he lets people know that he is your number one fan.

keisuke believes in you more than your own family, but that won't blind him or stop him from speaking his mind and telling you the truth when it is necessary. you appreciate the fact that he tells you what you need to hear, unlike some of your subordinates who are professional bootlickers.

you two almost had an argument about you paying for his tuition.

“nah babe, ‘s fine. what's a couple more student loans gonna cost?”

“keisuke please, you're already drowning in debt. let me at least pay half.”

you two are a stubborn couple, going at it until one of you gets tired; spoiler alert, it's him, not you.

at takehina's wedding, you get introduced to baji's friends, one of them being kokonoi and you two instantly hit it off with talking about future joint ventures and all that crap that keisuke does not want to bother understanding.

chifuyu deeply respects you. when you two first meet, he goes on about how he didn't think baji would find someone, especially as a veterinary student.

“it's nice that he's dating someone that's kinda the opposite of him. please take good care of him, i know he's rash at times but he means well.”

you find chifuyu to be a sweetheart knowing his intentions towards baji are pure, except for when he starts rambling about embarrassing moments that happened to baji back in his adolescent days as a way to keep the conversation going.

keisuke makes sure to leave messages here and there in between late night study sessions, knowing that you would be working around the same time he's online.

he would send you pictures of the strays he had gotten from the cat distribution system and ask you if he can keep it even though he doesn't live with you.

speaking of living arrangements, it is a bit complicated. he is always welcome in your penthouse and has a spare key for whenever he wants to crash at your place (something you secretly look forward to) but, his visits are moderate, unless he's tipsy and neither chifuyu nor kazutora are fit to take care of him, or he wants your accompaniment.

one time you took a risk that caused you to lose a multi-million contract. naturally, you were upset and distanced yourself from everything. baji, the ever-loving perceptive partner, noticed this and tried different silly ways to get your attention. you find it amusing that he is willing to make a fool out of himself just to get you to smile.

whenever you feel stressed, keisuke always offers to take you out on late night rides to clear your head at the beach.

you're not used to your status, so when you get overwhelmed keisuke holds you close and comforts you by stroking your hair.

“this is so pathetic. i’m sorry, it's just…hard.”

“shhh, it may hard but there isn't anything my woman can't do. you got this, okay?”

he doesn't mind getting groceries for you when he knows that you're too busy to shop for the house. he does it without telling you and even surprises you with a home cooked lunch that he gives his secretary to deliver to you as he's shy to do so himself.

did i mention that his mom absolutely adores you? your discipline and charisma are what amazes her. you have lunch dates with her every month and make sure to clear out your schedule just for her; you also enjoy flipping through baby albums with her and getting a glimpse of a younger version of keisuke.

keisuke loves it when you wear glasses, if he did something that aggravates you while you're working extra at home, he simply stares at you. with a blank expression, he admires the way the glasses frame your mesmerising face. you think he's not listening, and you get even more frustrated with him. but when he caresses your cheek and calls you beautiful, you are visibly stunned and you don't know what to do; you end up acting like him back when he had more of a tsuntsun character; now he always wants to tease you - catch you off guard with his blatant flirtation.

[pavo-ocxllus]

❝ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲! 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭…! ❞

romantic shenanigans ensue when you start working for an infamous law firm and most definitely doesn't have to do with my recent hyper fixation on law at the moment.

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠…

detective!shikanoin heizou as the number one detective at fontaine legal firm. as well as the pursuit of justice, he's also on the pursuit of you!

forensic scientist!albedo who's disillusioned from the thrilling profession of delving into the ground zero of crime scenes. though, with a case such as you, he might be wrong.

police officer!xiao who takes his job too seriously and instead of trying to arrest childe, he should be arresting you for stealing his heart ;)

prosecutor!cyno who's presence in the court is as vicious as his horrible puns. though—you can't deny that the tension between the both of you rival that viciousness.

pre-law!gorou with a strangely strong sense of smell and hearing, he possesses a not so strange sense of justice (and you!)

rival attorney!alhaitham who can't seem to stop meeting your path—or rather, crashing into it. with the (admittedly one-sided) feud stemming all the way from freshman year of university, it eventually led to the two of you unfortunately falling (in love?) into the same case.

interrogator!kaeya who's personality alone could be enough to pin this whole fiasco on him one bad day and simultaneously believe he's an angel on earth the next. somehow, his talents as an interrogation officer is the only thing about him that stays consistent, and perhaps something else...

mob boss!childe that can't stop finding different ways to drive you crazy. from remaining to do things that make the case worse against him to his endless teasing, the fact that he's actually innocent is the most daunting factor of working with him.

delinquent!arataki itto who is clearly innocent of his involvement in diluc's case. what kind of incriminating evidence does an anonymous tip have that made everybody believe he almost assassinated him?

and defendant!diluc, the man of the hour and whose car accident acts as the center that three cases revolve around. why does one have the motive to kill the wealthy wine tycoon, and most importantly, who was responsible?

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠…

klee, who despite her strange nonchalance towards explosives and having alarmingly close access to ingredients to make them, is quite the adorable young girl that loves you, her big brother albedo, and the two of you together very much!

hr!kuki shinobu who is absolutely done with heizou's fontaine legal firm's antics. she does have the qualifications to work as an attorney rather than at human resources, but she wouldn't want to work with itto more than she already has to—and he doesn't even work there!

attorney!yanfei as one of the few sane people working at fontaine legal firm. though she rarely get's involved in the daily chaos of her workplace, her fiery spirit in the courtroom knows no bounds!

part-time barista!kaveh that was (begrudgingly) ordered by alhaitham to get a job so he could stop pathetically drowning in student loan debt and his latest architectural project. horrible with drinks and customer interactions outside of his usual field, it's safe to say he'd rather be in crippling debt.

hu tao serving as the proprietor of wangsheng funeral parlor and as a partner in crime to itto and heizou, much to everybody's annoyances. queen of "it was getting a little chummy around here," she is a reliable source of information.

and perhaps more?

IMPORTANT...

i'll attempt to have a taglist! hopefully, it doesn't end up as a whole-ass nightmare, but how it works is that i will reblog the start page every time i update the routes with the taglist in tow and hope for the best! if you want to be added, you can message me or send an ask! though, just to be safe, you can turn on notifs!

there's a lot of possible routes cuz i'm lowkey a sadist, four "bad endings," ten "good endings," a neutral ending, and maybe a few secret endings (who's gonna get them first?? 👀)

there isn't a set schedule for the time being! where i live in, i'm busy with preparing for a standardized test (staar will be the death of me). please be patient with me!!

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠… heavily inspired by law dramas, tears of themis, shojo manga, manhwa, the works; fluff, hurt/comfort, interactive fic, angst

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬… heavily inspired by law dramas and tears of themis (so i wouldn't have to do too much research lmao), definitely not realistic MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH DEPENDING ON WHAT ROUTE YOU TAKE LATER ON

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝟏𝐬𝐭, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 (𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨)

[rosedpetal]

Over Again

Summary: You tried to run from him, but he wasn't about to allow that.

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Word count: 1k

Author's note: this is a repost.

Warnings: smut, imbalance relationship dynamics, all that fun stuff.

Minors, do not interact.

Masterlist

Shit.

You mumbled under your breath, feeling your eyes water and a strangled sob leave your throat. Your back hit the cold bathroom wall, and you tried your hardest to inhale and exhale, the mechanical act of breathing seeming too hard to do in the moment.

The two red lines in the pregnancy test made you know your life was never going to be the same again.

You lived with your parents. You were drowning in college debts (which was how you ended up in this whole mess). You were pretty sure you couldn't afford to buy diapers and formula for at least the next fifteen years.

Your cries got louder, and you squeezed the plastic test in your palm, as if it could make everything go away.

It wouldn't.

With your arms crossed over your chest and fidgeting with your leg anxiously, sunglasses to attempt to cover your face and a flowery sundress, you stood in the line to enter the shady clinic that Betty gave you the address to.

"The father left?" a sudden low male voice spoke behind you, and you shrieked.

You turned to look at him, fear rushing through your spine.

Lloyd looked too good for his own good in one of his stupid polo shirts, the creepy grin under the ugly mustache that you grew to love when it rubbed your most intimate parts adorning his sculpted face.

The few women in front of you were too aggravated by their own little problems to acknowledge the commotion you made.

"Lloyd, I-I can explain." You gulped. "I'm just here waiting for a friend, I-"

"Shut the fuck up, sunshine. You're a terrible liar." He mocked you, eyeing like a stalker do to its prey. "You're not showing yet. Little Hansen's already giving you hell?"

You cringed when he said that, a wave of nausea threatening to spill the contents of your breakfast.

"How did you...?"

Before you could say anything more, Lloyd roughly yanked you by your arm, shoving you to the backseat of his expensive car. The driver rolled the partition up, giving you two privacy.

"You know, sunshine, you could've come to me. But you chose to go behind my back, and that I can't forgive."

"Lloyd-"

"I told you to shut the fuck up." His blue eyes darkened, the gaze of lust and anger weighing on you like a thousand pounds. "Now, you're going to be a big girl and explain with words why on the damn earth you were going to have an abortion. Now."

Your tears fell freely on your face and you felt his fingers on your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"I'm so so sorry." You broke, just the way he loved. "I didn't wanna be a burden."

Lloyd gently caressed your face with the back of his hand, wiping your tears away his thumb.

"I was willing to do everything for you, sunshine. Pay your student debt, date you. Maybe put a ring on your finger. You just disappeared on me. You broke my heart." He sighed, resting his forehead on yours.

Things weren't supposed to go this way. Lloyd was just your sugar daddy. He treated you like a dumb little thing.

Of course, he did spoil the hell out of you. He was great in bed too. In fact, that's why you stayed so long and came back to him all the damn time.

But two years into this dangerous dance you and him waltzed to were becoming too much. Lloyd would never give you anything more than a few bank checks, Tiffany threats and the best sex a woman could dream of. Other than that, he'd never respect you.

Never let you be your own person, never let you go. So you had to run away.

"Tell me, sunshine..." Caging you with an arm thrown over your shoulder and sliding down his hand under the hem of your dress, reaching to where you needed him more, he asked: "Have I not been giving you enough?"

"You'll never love anyone, Lloyd. Not even your own child." You whispered, heart pacing faster under his sweet gaze. You hated the way he gave you butterflies. You shouldn't want his attention.

But you needed it so bad.

"Baby, you're out of your damn mind if you think I don't absolutely adore you, mon chérie." His mustache tickled the side of your face. "I told you I'd take care of you. Stop being so damn stupid and allow me to do so."

You barely noticed when he pushed your panties to the side, his index finger coating your wetness. You whimpered when he entered you in an embarrassing easy way.

"Lloyd..."

"Tell me you don't need this, and I'll walk away."

You knew him too well to know he was lying. He'd never do that. He was too dark, too deranged, too selfish to do anything that wasn't going to benefit him in the long run.

"Oh!" He curled his finger inside you. The wet sounds coming from your pussy were driving him insane.

"You're always so responsive for me, baby." He purred on your ear. "Makes me so fucking hard."

"Yes! Yes! Just like that, fuck!" You cussed through your teeth, feeling the butterflies pressing into your belly. You screamed and your pussy gushed, soaking Lloyd's hand, giving to him so sweetly that he almost came in his pants. He rode your high to the point of overstimulation, and you desperately pried his grip away from you, breathless.

"You can't leave me, sunshine. I won't let you." He kissed your cheek, licking the salty tears. "I'm going to put a diamond ring on your finger, and you're gonna behave like an obedient little wife. If you do, I can even let you entertain the idea of working."

"Lloyd..." You mumbled, numbed out from pleasure.

"Don't sleep on me yet, baby. You have to take care of me now." He demanded, putting your hand inside his pants.

Then he kissed you. Over and over again.

[linseymiller]

🫀cover reveal🫀

Oh no! My bookshelf fell over and the cover for That Devil, Ambition was revealed!

It's here! The cover for my next standalone young adult fantasy - That Devil, Ambition - from HarperCollins is here, and it's gorgeous!

I have been obsessed with this cover since the original concept crossed my desk. It's foreboding, moody, and a little suspicious. I feel so lucky to have the team at Harper in my corner for this ambitious book.

From Fabian (my boy! it's my terrible boy!) peering through the stacks to the cracked glasses, there's just so much on this cover that makes me smile. It's perfect.

I hope y'all love it as much as I do and go look at Colin's other work. He's done some of my favorite covers.

cover artist: Colin Verdi cover designer: Julia Tyler

goodreads

amazon

bookpeople

barnes & noble

kobo audiobook

From Lambda Literary Award finalist Linsey Miller comes this thrilling stand-alone fantasy about the lengths we'll go to get ahead—an incredibly fresh, twisty love letter to dark academia...with a body count. Perfect for fans of A Study in Drowning by Ava Reid, Gallant by V. E. Schwab, and All of Us Villains by Amanda Foody and C. L. Herman. There is only one school worth graduating from, and it creates as many magicians as it does graves… First in his class and last in his noble line, Fabian Galloway’s only hope of a good future is passing his elite school's honors class. It’s only offered to the best thirteen students, and those students have a single assignment: kill their professor. If they succeed, their student debt is forgiven. However, if an assassination attempt fails or the professor is alive at the end of the year, the students’ lives are forfeit. And dealing with the professor, a devil summoned solely to kill or be killed, is no easy task. Fabian isn't worried, though. He trusts his best friends—softhearted math genius Credence and absent-minded but insightful Euphemia—to help. After all, that’s why he befriended them. As the months pass and their professor remains impossibly alive, the trio must use every asset they have to survive. Or else failure will be on their academic records—and their tombstones—forever.

[theolivebranchreview]

My Love Letter to 2000s Network Television

by @arianna_mitchell

As I sit in my cramped apartment, surrounded by the unbridled chaos of unpaid bills, constantly checking my phone to see if “Julia,” the latest messy situation I’ve gotten myself into, has answered any of my embarrassingly numerous consecutive texts, I find myself yearning for an escape. But rather than confront these absolutely terrifying facts of life head-on, I’ve discovered a foolproof method of avoidance: rewatching my favorite early 2000s TV shows.

In times of stress and uncertainty (how badly would you beat me up if I still called these times “unprecedented”?), there’s something incredibly therapeutic about immersing yourself in the familiar comfort of old TV shows. It’s like slipping into your favorite worn-out sweatshirt that you stole from your ex whose last name you’re not actually sure you remember and feeling instantly at ease. These shows, with their dated fashion trends, now-vintage pop culture references, and occasional sprinkles of racism and misogyny that makes your skill crawl, provide a much-needed escape from the pressures of modern life.

But it’s not just about escapism. Rewatching these early 2000s gems is a form of self-care, a way to reconnect with a simpler time and a more carefree version of ourselves. And dude, if you do it right, it’s so much cheaper than therapy. I mean still go to therapy. But if you play your cards right, you can watch damn near 10,000 hours of television for nearly nothing. I’m still using my roommate’s Disney+ account and I haven’t lived with them for almost two years. But it’s okay because they’re on my Hulu (well actually my parents’ Hulu but you get the idea). As we follow the trials and tribulations of our favorite characters, we find solace in their struggles and triumphs. We’re reminded that, no matter how overwhelming life may seem, we’ve overcome challenges before and will continue to do so.

In a world that often feels chaotic and unpredictable, these shows offer a sense of stability and familiarity. We know every plot twist, every punchline, and every heartfelt moment. I am so tried of surprises, you have no idea. Well of course you do. You’re a human being living in this god awful year 202_. There’s a certain comfort in that predictability, in knowing that, no matter what happens in our own lives, these characters will always be there, frozen in time, ready to welcome us back with open arms. Sure, sometimes they might be poorly written, poorly filmed, and poorly acted, but I’ll be damned if they aren’t the one constant in my life. And let’s be real, sometimes it’s just nice to watch gorgeous people whose lives are even more of a shit show than your own. Sure, I may be drowning in student loan debt that I haven’t paid in seven months (seriously…is the government going to say anything about that or am I like…good?) and questioning every life choice I’ve ever made, but at least I’m not Marissa Cooper, who seems to attract drama like shit attracts paperclips, or whatever the expression is.

So, as I navigate the stresses of being an actual independent human being out in the world– the impending sense of doom that comes with each new political headline that I try to ignore, the constant pressure from every single direction to have it all figured out, and the nagging feeling that everyone else is more successful than me (seriously, do you guys have like 40 hours in the day, what the hell is going on?) – I find solace in the healing power of nostalgia television. And with that, I press play on another episode of Gilmore Girls, ready to lose myself in the fast-talking, coffee-fueled world of Stars Hollow. Because sometimes, the best therapy is the kind that comes with a side of pop culture references and a heaping dose of early 2000s fashion. And did I mention it’s free? (If you steal it)

So here are some recommendations if you’re unsure of what to (re)watch.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Slaying My Real-Life Demons

When the weight of the navigating the post(?)-pandemic dating scene gets to be too much (and let’s be real, it was pretty terrible long before the world broke), I turn to the ultimate demon-slaying hero, Buffy Summers. As I watch her navigate the perils of high school cliques, teenage romance, and the occasional apocalypse, my own problems seem to fade into the background. Sure, I may be casually drowning in capitalist sludge but at least I’m not tasked with saving the world from literal demons and vampires. And can you believe she did it while wearing low-rise jeans? I swear to God if those actually make a comeback, you will be hearing from the lawyer that I definitely have.

There’s something oddly comforting about watching Buffy and her friends face the end of the world on a weekly basis. It puts things into perspective, you know? Like, sure, I may have paid my rent late four months in a row. It’s not because I didn’t have the money, I literally just forgot. Sorry, Jeff, I just don’t think about you that way. But hey, at least I’m not having to sacrifice my love life for the greater good of humanity. And yeah, I went on three tinder dates this month just because I didn’t feel like cooking and wanted a free meal (but I didn’t sleep with them so it’s not sex work and even if it was, there’s not a damn thing wrong with that, you fascist), but at least I’m not having to balance homework with slaying vampires and preventing the apocalypse.

Buffy’s world may be filled with darkness and danger, but there’s a certain comfort in knowing that no matter how bleak things seem, she and her friends will always find a way to save the day. And if Buffy can do it while rocking some seriously questionable ’90s fashion choices (my lawyer is on standby, kids), then surely I can find a way to navigate the challenges of adulthood without completely losing my mind (though I make no promises when it comes to the questionable fashion choices).

Gilmore Girls: A Caffeinated Escape

Picture this: it’s 2 AM, and I’m elbow-deep in a pint of over-priced, freezer burnt Ben & Jerry’s that I bought from the bodega, scrutinizing how I managed to screw up yet another potential relationship. Enter Lorelai and Rory Gilmore, the fast-talking, coffee-chugging duo who make even the most stressful situations seem manageable with their quick wit and obscure references. They are not perfect, they are not always helpful, they are definitely not real, but they are always there to talk me through a difficult situation. As I watch them navigate the ups and downs of life in Stars Hollow, I can’t help but feel a sense of comfort wash over me. Sure, my problems may not involve a love triangle with a diner owner and a coffee shop entrepreneur, but the Gilmores remind me that no matter how much life (or love) throws at you, there’s always room for a good laugh and a cup (or seven) of coffee.

Screw it. Speaking of love, let’s talk about my latest romantic endeavor, shall we? Enter “Julia,” the girl who I’ve been texting on and off for the past three weeks, analyzing every emoji and exclamation point like it’s the goddamn Da Vinci Code. I know, I know, I’m bordering on being about as clingy as Kirk when he’s trying to win over Lulu, but what can I say? I’m a sucker for a girl with big brown eyes who laughs at my jokes and shares my love of obscure ’90s bands (even if she thinks Hootie and the Blowfish is obscure, bless her heart).

But here’s the thing: watching Lorelai and Rory navigate their own romantic ups and downs reminds me that I’m not alone in my struggles. Lorelai may have a thing for emotionally unavailable men (looking at you, Christopher), and Rory may have a habit of falling for guys who are all wrong for her (ahem, Logan), but they never let their relationship drama define them (looking at you, girl avoiding eye contact in the mirror). They pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and move on to the next adventure, whether it’s opening a new inn or running for student body president.

So, when I find myself obsessing over whether or not to double-triple-quadruple-text Julia (because apparently, I’ve regressed to my teenage self), I channel my inner Lorelai and remind myself that there’s more to life than waiting for a text back. I’ve got dreams to chase, coffee to drink, and a whole world of pop culture references to explore. And who knows, maybe one day I’ll find my own Luke Danes, a partner who appreciates my quirks and keeps me grounded (and caffeinated). But until then, I’ve got the Gilmore girls to keep me company, and honestly, I couldn’t ask for better role models.

Where’s My Central Perk?

When the daily grind of life starts to wear me down, and I find myself longing for the simpler times of coffee shop hangouts and rent-controlled apartments, I turn to my old friends from Central Perk. Rachel, Ross, Monica, Chandler, Joey, and Phoebe have been there for me through thick and thin, offering a much-needed escape from the harsh realities of the modern world.

But as I sit here, alone in my apartment with only my cats as the only real constant in my life, I can’t help but feel a sense of bitterness toward the corporate greed and capitalistic systems that have fostered a generation of lonely, disconnected individuals. The world of Friends, with its tight-knit community and affordable living situations, feels more and more like a distant fantasy with each passing year.

In a society that prioritizes profit over people, the concept of “third spaces” – those beloved hangouts like Central Perk – is becoming increasingly rare. We paved paradise and put up a Santander. Coffee shops and cafes are being replaced by banks, soulless chains, or empty storefronts always promising development, while local bars and restaurants are being priced out by skyrocketing rents. The places where we once gathered to forge connections and build communities are disappearing, leaving us with fewer opportunities to connect with others.

And let’s not forget the ever-increasing cost of living, which has created a generation of transient twenty-somethings, constantly on the move in search of affordable housing and stable job opportunities. How are we supposed to build lasting friendships when we’re always saying goodbye? Frankly, I’ve just stopped trying.

It’s no wonder that so many of us turn to TV shows like Friends for comfort and escapism. In a world where genuine human connection feels increasingly out of reach, we seek solace in the familiar faces and laugh tracks of our favorite sitcoms. We long for the kind of deep, meaningful friendships that the show depicts, even as we recognize how unrealistic they may be.

But here’s the thing: we can’t let the pursuit of profit continue to erode the very things that make us human. We need to fight back against the systems that prioritize money over people, and work to create a world where genuine connection and community are valued above all else.

Maybe that means supporting local businesses and fighting for affordable housing. Maybe it means creating our own “third spaces,” even if they look different from the ones we see on TV. Or maybe it just means reaching out to the people in our lives, and reminding them that they matter to us, no matter how far apart we may be.

Because at the end of the day, that’s what Friends is really about: the power of human connection, and the way it can help us weather even the toughest of times. And in a world that seems hellbent on keeping us apart, that message feels more important than ever.

So here I am, a single woman sitting alone in her apartment, watching TV with her cats. But I know that I’m not really alone, because I have the love and support of the people who matter most to me. I have my friends from college, I have my friends online, I have this little column that I contribute to whenever I feel like so I can at least feel like an old man yelling at a cloud. And that’s something that no amount of corporate greed or capitalistic bullshit can ever take away.

Conclusion

As I sit here, surrounded by the comforting glow of my laptop screen, I can’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the early 2000s TV shows that have been my constant companions through the ups and downs of adulthood. In a world that often feels cold, unforgiving, and increasingly isolated, these nostalgic gems have provided me with a much-needed escape and a reminder of the power of human connection.

From the demon-slaying heroics of Buffy to the quick-witted banter of the Gilmore Girls, these shows have taught me valuable lessons about perseverance, friendship, and the importance of chasing your dreams. They’ve been there for me through breakups, job losses, and countless other challenges, offering a comforting sense of familiarity and a reminder that I’m not alone in my struggles.

But more than that, these shows have served as a catalyst for self-reflection and growth. They’ve inspired me to be braver, kinder, and more authentic in my own life, even when the world around me seems to be crumbling. They’ve reminded me that it’s okay to make mistakes, to be vulnerable, and to lean on the people who matter most.

So, to all the early 2000s TV shows that have been my rock through the turbulent waters of adulthood, I say thank you. Thank you for the laughter, the tears, and the countless hours of comfort and companionship. Thank you for reminding me that, no matter how bleak things may seem, there’s always hope to be found in the power of storytelling and human connection.

And to all my fellow twenty-somethings out there, navigating the challenges of adulthood in an increasingly uncertain world, I say this: keep holding on to the things that bring you joy, the things that remind you of who you are and what you stand for. Whether it’s a beloved TV show, a cherished friendship, or a secret dream that keeps you going, hold onto it with all your might. Because in the end, it’s those things – the things that make us feel seen, heard, and understood – that will carry us through even the darkest of times.

So go ahead, press play on that next episode of Buffy or Gilmore Girls. Let yourself get lost in the familiar comfort of Stars Hollow or Sunnydale. And remember, no matter how lost or alone you may feel, you’ve got a whole gang of early 2000s TV friends waiting to welcome you back with open arms (and maybe even a few outdated pop culture references). Trust me, it’s the best therapy money can’t buy.

[bunni-v1]

Sfw list with ace? Thankyou

🍓I got some free time FINALLY!!! I'm still incredibly busy and my plate is so full, but I can write something in my inbox! I'm so tired guys, you have no idea, but I'm pushing through as best as I can. Wish me luck please ;-;

A - Affection: Ace is not an affectionate guy, at least, not in the traditional sense. He's not gonna be caught hanging all over you, kissing you every five minutes, or absolutely begging for your attention. No, he's like violent. Not like, beating you up violent, but punching your shoulder or giving you a noogie violent. It looks like he's bullying you, but that's just how he shows he cares dw.

B - Best friend: He's such a dick I hate him. Ace is an asshole, and he knows that and is proud of it. He's gonna be mean to you and pick on you and all that fun shit. You can pick on him and be mean to him in return. He's got your back, you've got his. It's all equivalent exchange with him. However, he will defend you till his dying breath. If someone else is being mean to you, he's not gonna have it. He's a bros bro, a homie, and an irreplaceable best friend.

C - Cuddles: Contrary to what I said earlier, he does like cuddles! He's not cold-hearted, and he does enjoy being a boyfriend. He's not always wanting to cuddle, but he enjoys them whenever he's in the mood. He has to be the big spoon, though, that's his only rule. (He secretly likes the idea that he can protect you no matter if you're bigger than him or not).

D - Domestic: Settling down isn't something Ace really thinks about too hard. If he had to give an answer, yeah probably would be it. He's a college student, he's not even in his twenties yet, so thinking about settling down isn't exactly something on his to-do list just yet. On another note, when he does settle down he's pretty good at doing chores and balancing out work and home life. You're never going to feel like you have to do too much at home compared to him, but you will have to hear him complain about it while he does it.

E - Ending: Ace is probably the nicest out of everyone? Weird, I know right, but he's not as heartless as people think. If he falls out of love with you, he's just gonna be upfront about it. He's not gonna make it all about what you did wrong or what he did wrong, he's just gonna be honest. You'll likely end things on good terms and go back to being best friends shortly after.

F - Fiance(e): It's not that Ace is afraid of commitment, it's just not something he actively thinks about. That isn't to say he's not committed, he is! He's not in a relationship with you just to waste it on a one-night stand, he just won't want to think about marriage until both of you are at a more stable point in life. Like, you know, not drowning in student loan debt. He definitely brings it up after two years of being together, because he likes the idea of marriage, just not yet.

G - Gentle: He is not, as I've already mentioned, gentle. His form of affection is physical and rough, and his words will always be sharp and pointed, but he knows when to reel it in and stop. If he is actually pissing you off he stops and apologizes. Yeah, he pouts and is grumpy, but he's not going to keep harassing you.

H - Hugs: Again, he likes hugs a lot. He won't admit it, but they're probably his favorite form of affection. He's a good hugger too. He's got the big brother-type hugs, you know the all-encompassing warm ones that you. just can't get enough of.

I - I love you: It takes him a while. He just doesn't think about the fact that he needs to say it at some point. It'll come naturally when it comes, that's Ace's philosophy on it. When he doesn't finally say it, it's in such a casual setting neither of you even realize what he said.

J - Jealousy: Ace does get jealous, and it's over the most stupid shit too. He doesn't feel threatened by anyone, because why would you be with him if you weren't willing to be loyal. Nah, he gets jealous of Grim and Deuce. He wants to be the center of your attention specifically when those two are around, and he rarely gets his way so he just sits there and pouts until you give him what he wants. (He pouts for a long ass time).

K - Kisses: Kisses fluster him so bad it's so funny. He doesn't know why they make him so hot in the face, but they do and it's incredibly funny. If he had to pick a favorite place to kiss/be kissed, he'd probably say cheek kisses. Only because they're the only type that doesn't make him feel like his head is about to explode.

L - Little ones: Ace is unsurprisingly not a big fan of kids. He's not good with them, and he himself is a giant toddler so can you blame him. He's like a textbook case younger sibling, and it shows the most when he's around little kids. He doesn't know how to act appropriately, unfortunately, that makes the kids think he's super cool and cling to him.

M - Morning: If you don't get out of bed first, neither of you are getting up. If he has an eight am, you're gonna have to be the one to get him up or else he won't go. He's not a morning person, and he spends most of the morning wobbling around groggy and grumbling about how tired he is.

N - Night: Ace is also a night owl, and he really likes to stay up late doing random shit. A lot of the time both of you take a train somewhere and just wander around and talk. In other cases, you stay up late playing video games together (sometimes Deuce joins). Late nights are when you and Ace have most of your deep talks together, and you really get to see who he is underneath all those layers at night.

O - Open: It takes him a minute to start opening up to you. It's not like he has some dramatic backstory or anything, it's just another case that he doesn't think too hard about it and therefore doesn't open up until it feels right. It's during one of the late-night sessions where you're wandering around the empty streets where he just tells you a ton about him.

P - Patience: With Ace, it's a toss-up. I don't even know if you could describe what he's feeling as anger, but it's somewhere along those lines. He's constantly just irked at something, whether it's something someone said or his own responsibilities, he's got an underlying annoyance. To say it ever goes so far as anger would be stretching, and I doubt it's ever directed at you. I guess I would say he's easy to rile up but hard to actually piss off.

Q - Quizzes: Ace remembers most of the important stuff that he needs to. He knows your birthday, the important anniversaries, and your favorites and all that. However, sometimes he just forgets. You can chew him out for it because even he knows he deserves it, but it's not like he was trying to. He just blanked. He makes up for it tenfold though, grumbling the whole time.

R - Remember: Going back to the "I Love You" bullet, that has to be his favorite memory. The two of you were chilling on the couch in ramshackle, playing some game or another (he can't remember the name of it, it wasn't that fun, but you made it a blast). You'd kicked his ass in a level, and instead of pouting he was laughing and having such a good time. And he just let it slip. "I love you." Without missing a beat you said it back, smile just as wide as his.

S - Security: Ace is fully aware that you can handle your own, therefore, he doesn't really step in unless you ask him to. It's a way he shows his respect for you and your relationship. The one time he'll go above that though is if someone is insulting you and you aren't around to defend yourself. He puts that person back in their place so fast he breaks the sound barrier. He expects the same from you, of course. Equivalent exchange and such.

T - Try: At the very start, he's not doing a whole lot. It's not like he doesn't care, it's just that he's a broke college student and he wants some lighthearted fun. Once you start getting serious he puts more effort into things. It's still not extravagant dates, but things you'd expect from him. Movies, arcades, amusement parks, etc. Fun stuff, but things that you can enjoy mutually!

U - Ugly: He doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut. He'll make a nasty comment to you that'll hurt your feelings and then realize that what he said was uncool. He speaks before he thinks in a lot of cases, and it causes a whole boatload of issues for the two of you. He'll cut it eventually, it just takes a whole lot of work.

V - Vanity: He doesn't really care all that much about looks, on both himself and you. Sure, he thinks you're the most attractive person in the world, but that's not what matters to him. He isn't that shallow. He takes good care of himself, but he's not doing insane skincare routines like Vil is.

W - Whole: He wouldn't feel incomplete without you. In his mind, the two of you are separate but equal. You are just as important to him as he is to himself, but you are not the same. He misses you when you're gone, but he can function without you by his side 24/7.

X - Xtra: Ace has wanted to grow out his hair since he was in middle school. The only issue is, he has no idea what he'd do with it. He's not great at styling hair, and honestly, he doubts his would be easy to work with due to how thick and coarse it is. He gave up on the idea in high school. After meeting Jamil though he's been thinking about it a lot and asking him a lot about hair care.

Y - Yuck: Sensitivity. To an extent, he understands getting upset over things because emotions are uncontrollable and human. If you can't take his teasing or his jokes, though, it's such a turn-off for him. His love language is teasing (mutually), so he couldn't be with someone who can't take that.

Z - Zzz: He will go to sleep in one position and then wake up in another. Sleeping with his head on the pillow, he'll somehow wake up completely turned around. He's woken up on the floor, hanging off his bed, in DEUCES bed. It's so odd and no one knows how he does it cause he's so quiet while he sleeps.

[trubirb]

Hey, love your superhero OC! What kind of crime does she fight? Do you have recurring antagonists she has to go up against?

I’m glad you asked!!

So the reoccurring theme of her story has to do with money and the “root of all evil” thing.

Jupiter/Ada herself is a college dropout drowning in student debt and just trying to survive in the city she grew up in.

One villain, Cass, is an owner of a popular casino. She is more of an anti-hero, tbf. I’ll leave a few sketches of her at the bottom!

I also have ideas for lots of other villains that relate to money. Some of them have names and more details, but I’d be here for hours lol

- Loan Sharks

- Money Launderers

- Something related to Crypto scammers

- rich obnoxious business man

- evil scientist who wants to sell dangerous weapons on the black market

Overall, a lot of the crime she fights is underground. Not a lot of big city m-destroying criminals, but slinky, conniving ones that seek riches. Juxtaposing Jupiter’s brash and forward thinking.

Tbh, I need to work on fleshing out some of the villains. :/

Here’s Cass! It’s an older drawing. Now she’s got different hair and clothes and stuff, so I’ll post some photos of her later when I can!

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Okay but Marcus’s praise kink?

Two miles long. He loves calling you his “good girl” but if you turn the tables and call him your “good boy”? Man might just spontaneously combust.

You're 100% right. The thing about Marcus Pike is that he's used to being the one in charge. He's used to making the first move, planning all the dates, and being the dominant one in bed.

(18+, smut under the cut) (also this got angsty oops)

And that's not to say he doesn't like it--he loves taking care of you. He loves to completely take you apart and then praise you for how well you break for him. He loves to whisper little sweet nothings in your ear when he gently slides into you, side by side. He loves surprising you with flowers "just because" and holding your chair out for you at dinner and making you breakfast in the morning. He's just Like That.

But somewhere along the line, his brain internalized the lesson that he's only worth what he gives to other people. Either from having a difficult child where he was forced the be the adult (I hc that he was the oldest child in a very large family and spent a lot of his childhood helping his overworked parents take care of the younger kids) or through a series of unhealthy relationships. But of course, the more Marcus gives over the years, the more people took.

Whether it was his ex-wife, who took advantage of his sense of chivalry and duty and got married too quickly after college even though he knew it wasn't a good match. She was drowning in student debt and he could help her, dammit.

Or maybe it was Teresa, who, unknowingly or not, used him to get to Patrick Jane. I don't think she did it intentionally--I think she was just interested in throwing herself into "the next best thing" as quickly as possible to distract her from her feelings. I think she did, at one point, want it to work. When he felt her slipping from him--the move, the job, the obvious tension between her and her partner--he gave more. And more, and more, and more. It's clear to me that Marcus thought the more he gave her, the more likely it was that she'd stay with him. So he gave. And Teresa took.

Marcus is used to giving.

So when he meets you, and you praise him for all that he gives you--before giving everything right back, he isn't sure what to do with himself.

He surprises you with flowers at work.

You manage to sneak Nationals tickets into his desk drawer.

He always runs around to the passenger side of his car to open the door for you.

You always text him "Good morning <3", without fail, every day.

He rasps praises above you while buried deep inside, the headboard shaking with how hard he's fucking you from behind, calling you his good girl for taking it so well, for being so responsive, for being so loud, for getting his cock so fucking wet when you cum.

But when you, in between your broken moans and choked cries as he hits that spot deep inside you that drives you wild, start to murmur back, barely aware of what you're saying, he's.... shocked.

"Marcus, f-fuck, you--you always feel so good like this. You fuck me so good, always take--hnng--such good care of m-me. It's so fucking good, Marcus."

He... his pace falters. You've never known him to falter when he's lost in you like this; he keeps his pace with ruthless precision.

"Say... say it again. Please." The words are barely audible, as if he's ashamed to ask.

"You're so good," you whisper. "You're so good to me. Your cock feels so good, everything feels good with you. You're fucking perfect, Marcus."

He suddenly falls, landing roughly on his elbows; his ragged breath is suddenly in your ear and his body cages you to the bed and he fucks harder.

Oh.

"G-Good," you pant, although with his weight pressing down on you, your voice is strangled with the effort of getting the word out. "You're so good, baby. You are." You reach behind you to card your hand through the hair on the back of his neck, eliciting a soft, broken sound from the man.

Your voice softens, contrasting heavily with the loud slap of your bodies as they collide.

"You can let go," you whisper softly, tenderly. "Good boy."

It ends him.

With a groan--that sounds ever so slightly like a sob--Marcus buries his head in the crook of your neck and cums with his entire body. You feel as though you move several inches up the bed as his hips roll and his back convulses with pleasure.

"T-Tell me... meant it," Marcus slurs into your skin as the two of you catch your breath.

You awkwardly turn underneath him, ignoring the soft noise of protest when he slips from your heat in the process. Looking up at him with soft eyes, you say it again.

"You are," you assure him. "So good. My good boy."

Marcus's disbelieving expression melts into a bright, warm smile. He kisses you once on the lips, then starts to trail his way down your body.

"Where are you going?" you ask, giggling.

He fixes you with a mischievous look. "Gonna show you just how good I can be."

[sehtoast]

Yearning (Homelander x OC)

18+ | 4.5k, yearning, slow-ish burn, spidersona oc, conqueror!au homelander, description of a corpse, pre-relationship pining, shared shower, first kiss, mild-ish smut, thigh riding, web-hole oral, finger sucking, 'i love you's, hurt/comfort | Fic Directory

gif by @blindmagdalena

He is the one who makes Homelander want to change everything. He is the one who brings warmth to these cold ruins, who smiles sunshine over this ashen world. He, who captured the heart of the god of death and destruction, is life and rejuvenation. 

He is kindness. Light. Peace.

He is the god of love, and he is everything to the god of death. 

He is the calming stillness that greets bloodied, shaking hands. He is the balm that soothes the ache, the water that quenches the agonizing thirst. He is the hand that pulls souls from the rubble of fury and pain and breathes relief into their lungs. 

He is simply Benjamin, and Homelander has no idea how he ever survived without him. 

Who would he be if those eyes hadn't cried on him the first time he delivered death in their presence? Who would he be without the hand that holds his while he judges the unworthy? How many lives have been spared simply because Benjamin was in the room? 

Too many. Far, far too many. God has softened his grip on his kingdom. 

And yet, they've not even shared their first kiss. Since his adventure in the other world, Homelander has always known they were destined to be together. They were a force transcending their own universe. He just had to wait. 

And wait. 

And wait. 

He had to show Benjamin that there was something inside of him worth loving. That he was more than a reaper, more than pain. 

There was love inside, buried so very deep– but it was there. 

It is there. 

He demands only the best for his Benjamin.  The best food, the best drinks, the best clothing and bedsheets.  He even has his own room in the tower.  A new, special super suit tailored to compliment his own.  The boy didn’t understand at first.  Why in the world would he lavish such things upon his assistant?  

Because he was more than that, obviously.  He was more than a footstool, more than a blood bag, more than meat meant to do his bidding.  Benjamin had heard the rumors surrounding the comings and goings of those who came before him, but the position paid exceptionally well and he was drowning in a world of financial misery.  He was prepared to be a doormat for the rest of his days just to get by, but he was surprised one day to find his debts wiped away.  Student loans settled, transition related surgeries paid off– his fucking credit score at a perfect 850 all within one week’s time of starting his new job.

When he expressed his glee about such an odd and godsent occurrence, Homelander simply winked at him.

By all means, he could quit this daunting job and focus on his heroics, but something stops him.  Not the material things, not the gifts or the rush of power when he realizes that the god of this world has chosen him as his favorite– no, none of that.

It’s when that god looks at him with big, doe-like eyes that he feels something telling him to stick around.  The first time Homelander ever took his hand, Ben knew something in that man needed him.  Maybe it was the tremble in his touch, or the overwhelmingly sad look in his eyes, but Ben decided to stay for Homelander.

Every day, they grew closer.  Every day, Benjamin chipped away at an exterior made of steel, revealing bits and pieces of a scared, lonely, pained man underneath.  God may rule his kingdom, but he is alone.  

Well, he was alone.

He’s not anymore.  When it all hurts too much, he knows where to go.  He doesn’t have to turn a town into a crater or eviscerate a gaggle of non-believers; he can go to Benjamin.  He can float down to that window and find a warm heart that will shield him from the pain.  He’ll find a shoulder to lay his head on and a hand to hold.

The next day, he’ll realize he’d miraculously fallen asleep, and the boy did everything possible to make him comfortable. Removed his boots, detached his eagle epaulets, tucked a blanket around him.  Then, beside him on the floor, he’ll peer down and find Benjamin sleeping peacefully.

He’ll feel something akin to pain tugging at his heart, but it’s more than that.  It’s so much more.

He’ll wake the boy with a thumb stroking at his cheek and a smile fit to melt glaciers. 

“Wake up, little spider…”

 He feels privileged to lay beside him in any capacity, though he wishes his lovely Benjamin hadn’t slept on the floor.  Homelander realizes that he wants to see those beautiful brown eyes flutter open every morning for the rest of his life.

Sometimes they would run around the city together.  Ben would swing while he followed closely behind.  They would make it a game of chase, or sometimes just a simple race.  They liked to hang out on top of the Queensboro Bridge, on the tower overlooking the decimated ruins of Rikers.  Mostly, though, they enjoyed the perches of the Chrysler Building at night time.  Sometimes they talked about everything.  Other times, they just enjoyed the silence and each other.

Regardless of location, Benjamin would hold his hand.  He never mentions the tremble, never laughs at how nervous it all makes him.  Instead, he asks–

“Are you cold?”

He snorts a laugh.  He’s full of padding and has enough V pumping hot through his veins to kill most supes.  Is he cold?  

What a beautiful thing to be asked.

“Are you?” He counters.  He’s thrilled when the bug nods.  Thrilled to pull him closer, arm around his shoulder, eyes cooking up a faint glow. 

“Trust me?”  He asks.  

Benjamin looks at him with raised brows, clearly a little nervous at the idea.  

“I– Yeah.  Yeah, I trust you.”

He has the bug tilt his head back and he flickers the weakest beam of heat he’s ever conjured over various parts of his body. The moan of contentment sends a shiver down his spine and it took a titanic level of self control not to focus that beam of heat right between his legs.  It’s the first time he’s ever used his powers for something so… gentle.

 Ben ends up in his lap before long.  He’s thankful for the cup in his suit. 

He wakes the next day in Benjamin’s room.

In his bed.

Beside him.

Clad in only his briefs, he slides a leg through their shared warmth beneath the blankets until he can hook it around one of Ben’s.  They did nothing more than sleep beside each other, but it’s the most intimate feeling in the world to him.

He’s never slept better before in his entire life.

A lopsided grin spreads across his face and he snuggles up close to his little spider.  An arm around his waist confirms he, too, is only in his underwear.  He dances a thumb in circles over a hipbone.  It’s the most he dares to do.  

Ben is a heavy sleeper and a late riser.  Even the sun blasting through the curtains isn’t enough to rouse him.

He dozes off once more.

There comes a day when he finally snaps.  Some nuisance in the staffing department combined with too many unwanted, painful flashbacks in one day, and it leads to a bloody mess painting an office.

He wants to eviscerate whoever called Benjamin in to fucking handle it.  

He’d lingered too long, remained at the scene– but what other choice did he have?  Run the risk of his little spider seeing him like this?

As fate would have it, neither choice would spare him the shame.

Benjamin walks in and his eyes go wide.  Homelander swears he sees fear, horror, disappointment, disgust– everything he’s never wanted to see reflected in those precious brown eyes.

He tries to speak, reach out a hand, anything– but he doesn’t want to scare him.

The body on the floor is torn in two.  The head of it is a pulpy pile of muck just mere feet away.

What were they thinking, sending Benjamin in here?  Worse yet, what is he thinking when he takes a step inside?  There’s blood everywhere.  It stains the white soles of his shoes the second he comes closer.

And closer.

Closer.

Homelander steps back with each of Ben’s movements.  His chest heaves with frantic breaths.

It’s not supposed to be like this!  He’s good!  He’s good, he’s good, he’s good– he’s not bad!  He’s– He’s tried so fucking hard to be good!

His back presses against a bookshelf.  He can feel the heat radiating from his own eyes and it must feel so hot as Ben comes even closer.

“It’s okay,” he reassures.  “It’s just us.  It’ll be alright, Johnny.”

Johnny. 

Oh, how he loves that name.  Loves to hear it, loves to be called it, loves to know he’s still worth being called something so wonderful.

When his little spider slips his stained gloves off and grasps his bare hands, he crumbles.  It’s the first time he’s ever cried in front of him.

“Please don’t hate me…”

He even falls to his fucking knees.  It’s so much worse when Ben follows him down.

He hides his face against Ben’s neck.  He remembers the day he dematerialized in the other world.  How the Benjamin there hugged him through the panic, through the fear.  Told him what he needed to hear.

Just like his Ben is doing now.

“I could never hate you.”

He hates himself for crying harder.

There is no lecture for what he’s done.  There’s tears– his own and Ben’s– but the bug doesn’t torture him with talk of why he was wrong, why he shouldn’t have done it, nothing.

Ben leads him out into the hallway.  Has Homelander keep his eyes locked on him as they make their way to the elevator.  They ascend higher and higher.  Ben keeps his hand pressed to the back of Homelander’s neck.  Comforting and grounding.  The fingers that dance through the bloody, sticky nape of his neck are even more so.

It’s not the penthouse that Benjamin brings him to, but rather his own apartment.

“Let’s get you out of that, okay?” 

His pride goes up in flames when Ben sees his body for the first time.  

His totally unsculpted, normal body.  A far shot from what the suit makes him look like.

But the bug doesn’t say anything about it.  Doesn't make any faces. Just collects the soiled material and tosses it into a laundry basket.

Homelander sits nearly naked and vulnerable on the seat of the toilet.

Ben turns the shower on and offers him privacy, but he’s so quick to snag him by the wrist and wordlessly beg him to stay.

There’s still a light tremble in Ben’s hand.  He hates himself for causing it.

“How do you wanna do this?”  Ben asks him. 

He chews his lower lip and casts his gaze down to the floor.  Curse him and all of his stupid fucking inhibitions; he always goes quiet when the bad things happen.

“Do you want me to just sit in here?”  Ben gives him a moment to nod.  

He doesn’t. 

 “Do you want me to– I mean, I can get in and help if that’s what you need.”

He gives the weakest confirmation.

“Please…” 

Homelander has peeked under Ben’s clothes countless times– seen him naked and writhing in the other world– but the sight of him so close is… He’s breathtaking.  Homelander’s praying he doesn’t end up hard from the sight of him stripped down to his underwear.  

Benjamin offers for him to keep his briefs on, but he takes them off before stepping in.  Might as well.

The bug keeps his underwear on, but little is left to the imagination when the water soaks the fabric.  Homelander shuts his eyes to keep himself under control.

His mind runs with the image anyway.  With the touches to his bloodied face and neck, the scratches to his scalp.

Benjamin washes him with such care.  He tries to return the favor and he’s so damn clumsy about it that he’d kick his own ass if he could.

Just the same as the bug did for him, he lathers a soft cleanser over his face and neck.  Rubs it in little circles, thumbs it over his cheekbones, into his brows and onto his forehead.  Ben’s eyes are closed.

He still trusts him even after what he saw.

Washing his hair is a joy in and of itself.  Sudsing up those brown locks, combing through them with his fingers, shaping them into weird styles.  The giggle from his little spider brought the first smile to his face since Ben had found him.

He cleans Ben’s hands of dried blood, too.  Even tries his best to get it all out from underneath his nails.  Benjamin doesn’t deserve to be stained with his sins.  The god of death should never tarnish the god of love.

The god of death should never tarnish the god of love.

And yet, he’s leaning in anyway.  Some flicker of confidence, some bubble of courage to do it– but he can’t.

He can’t ruin this sweet boy with his love.

He rests their foreheads together instead.  Shuts his eyes and lets the water flow over them.  It won’t run cold– Vought Tower has tons of hot water– but they stay there long enough that it should’ve.

Ben dries him.  Dresses him in his own clothes.  They’re so soft… They smell so nice– like him.  The shirt is a little tight, but he doesn’t mind.  Not when it’s Ben’s.  

They lay on the bed together.  Neither says a word.  Neither needs to.

Ben ends up ordering food from the staff chefs.

“You gotta eat something, pumpkin.”  He tells him.

Pumpkin.

That’s what the other Ben always called his Homelander.

“Here,”  the bug holds up a fork wound tight with pasta.  Somehow it looks more appetizing than the identical bowl Homelander had been reluctantly poking at.  Probably had more to do with the person offering it than anything else.  “It won’t bite.  Promise. That's your job.”

He leans in and takes the bite with downcast eyes.  

“Attaboy!”

But that… That makes his eyes go wide and his cheeks flush.  Maybe he should eat his food after all.  

Their conversations lead into an explanation of what happened earlier.  He tells it as simply as he can.

He got overwhelmed.  A bad, bad day.  A horrible day.  And then some fucking meeting happened and he saw red when the employee made an offhand, snarky comment.

Ben nods along until the end.  He doesn’t interrupt Homelander.  Doesn’t critique or shun him.  He just listens.

Nobody’s ever done that before.  Nobody but him.  Madelyn would have put her foot up his ass in some form or another.  Same with Maeve.  Stan would’ve torn him down bit by bit.  Vogelbaum would’ve ordered corrective measures…

Ben just listens.

“Next time,” his little spider takes his hand.  “Just find me instead.”

What?

“We can handle it together, y’know?”

He doesn’t know what to do with that at all.

A week later, he's lounging in Benjamin's room while the web-head practices playing his guitar. He's never been one for music, but Ben's playing is incredibly soothing. 

“Any words to that one?” He asks out of the blue. 

“Yeah, but I can't sing for shit.” Ben hums a laugh. 

“Doubt that,” Homelander sighs. “You're you. You can do anything.”

Ben looks at him with a bashful grin, but Homelander's eyes are shut and he doesn't see. 

“Alright, you asked for it.” He strums a slow chord progression.

“I thought that I had everybody by my side.” 

“Then I went and blew it, all sky high.” 

“And now she won't even spare a passing glance.”

Homelander peeked over in excited anticipation. 

“All because I… RIPPED MY PANTS!” 

Ben breaks out into giggles over a joke Homelander's certainly not in on, but strums away nonetheless. He doesn't sing along, but his laughter was music enough. 

“I don't get it,” he deadpans when the playing stops. 

“Ehh, after your time.” Ben winks. “Not that you're old or anything. It's from SpongeBob. It's funny, trust me.” 

“Christ.” John groans. “If you say so.”

Ben sets the instrument down with a wide smile on his face and plops onto the bed by Homelander. 

“Cute when you're confused.” Ben says casually, but his eyes widen and his cheeks flush the second he realizes what he said. “S-Sorry, I mean–” 

“Oh, really?” Homelander props himself on his elbow to look directly at his little spider. His grin cuts from ear to ear, thrilled beyond measure at such a slip up. “What's cute about me, huh?” 

Ben shakes his head and giggles bashfully. “It's– I meant–” 

“Ben, Ben, Benny, Ben, Ben,” he sing-songs. “C'monnnnn, make me feel as cute as you say I am!”

Benjamin's blush grows deeper, turning his cheeks a beautiful crimson. 

“I dunno, you just– you get a cute little half smile but you hide it quickly. But it’s always so genuine and I just think it’s cute.”

“Mmm, tell me more.” He teases.  Truth is, he fucking loves hearing this from Ben.  Cute is a good thing.  He’d rather hear sexy or handsome, of course, but this is still a fucking amazing sign.  And that blush?  Now that was cute.  “When else am I cute?”

He cages Ben on the bed with his arm when the bug tries to wiggle free.  He grins at the bubbly laughter from his little spider.  Homelander could hold him in place like this all day and never tire.  He’d have to fess up.  

“C’mon, Benjamin!  Earn your freedom.”

“I– Johnny!”  He whines.  “Fiiiiine.”  Ben stills himself with a deep breath.  He tries to ignore how close they are.  “You just are, y’know?  You have cute eyes and a cute nose.  Your hair is really nice and you have a pretty smile– when you’re smiling for real.”

“Oh, you flatter me!” Homelander lilts.  There’s a part of him– same as the day Benjamin cleaned him of blood– that feels guilty for what he’s pushing for, but he can’t stop.  He’s practically hovering over Ben at this point.  Faces mere inches apart.

He could kiss him right now and–

The bug’s phone goes off loudly in his pocket.  Normally it’s muted, but…

“Sorry, I gotta–  I was expecting this.  Sorry.”

Homelander leans back and gives him space to answer.  From the sound of it, it’s that nephew of his asking for advice for something that could’ve fucking waited until literally any other time.

He rolls onto his back and huffs in disappointment.  Homelander listens loosely to the conversation.  Homework help.

He has half a mind to ban homework.

Maybe he made too loud of a sound, because Ben reaches back and ruffles his hair and shoots him an apologetic smile.

Seems like every time he thinks they might finally seal everything with a kiss, something stupid happens.  It’s like fate, no matter how clear it seems that they should be together, demanded that they wait.  If it’s not interruptions, it’s his inhibitions.  A fear that one wrong move would undo months of… god, could he even call this work?

Some time passes, with Ben droning on about some weird literary rule, and then it’s silent.

“Sorry,” Ben tells him once again. “Kid took an honors class but he’s kind of terrible at the subject.”

He knew a little about Ben’s family.  Not much, but enough.

“No, that’s– you’re fine.”  He sputters.  God, did he act too mad about it? 

“Thanks, but still.  Now, where was I?”  Ben huffs a laugh and assumes the same position as before, only this time he’s the one leaning over Homelander.  Not as close as before, but it’s…

The fact he went back for it drives Homelander mad.

“Cute things, cute things…” he muses as he scans Homelander's face.  “Here,” he taps his index finger to Homelander’s upper lip, tracing over the length of it.  “The right side flares up just a liiiittle bit more than the left.  That’s cute, t–”

Oh, fuck– fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

He did it without even thinking.  Without a fucking second of hesitation, no– god, no he shouldn’t have.  But it was right fucking there and his body just did it.

He’d taken the tip of Ben’s finger in his mouth.  Laved his tongue over it and suckled firm just once before realizing what he’d done.

His lips are locked tight against Ben’s knuckle, but he dares not move an inch.

“That’s… huh.”  

At least he doesn’t sound mad.

“Is this your way of showing off to me?”

And that sounded like a fucking flirt.

Does that mean… does that mean he should keep it in there?  Does that mean it’s okay?  His eyes flutter open just the tiniest bit to find a warm, fascinated smile.  

He tastes so good.  So, so fucking good.  Every taste of stolen underwear in the world paled in comparison to him here, now, like this.  There’s something about his… his skin.  The taste of it.  The scent.  The slightest flare of his nostrils and he picks up something… something amazing.

He grasps Ben’s wrist and his thumb rolls over that spinneret and he knows exactly what that scent is, that taste…

There’s fucking pheromone glands in there.

Among other things, as indicated by Ben's reaction… 

He realizes it's a fucking erogenous zone, too.

“O-Oh,” the web-head gasps.  His mouth is agape with heavy breaths, his eyes are dilating.  All that from one touch of Homelander’s thumb.  “Y-You– Ah!”

He has every opportunity to pull away, to rip that finger from Homelander’s mouth and jump right off the bed.  Hell, he could even cling to the ceiling for distance– but he doesn’t.

Homelander sucks his finger in just a little deeper, presses the pad of his thumb just a little harder.  Ben’s noises make him harden in his suit.

Their eyes lock and he knows.

Over the intense pheromone release of the spinneret, he can smell it.  Benjamin is wet– no. 

He's fucking drenched. 

Homelander can practically hear each little throb of his pussy, each near-silent squelch of slick between his ravenous walls.

“Johnny…”

The way Ben whispers his name with such a shaky breath sends a jolt right between his legs.  He wants to return the feeling tenfold.  Wants to see Ben feel just as fucking good as his mere presence makes him feel.

He slips the finger free and pulls Ben’s spinneret flush to his lips.  He pecks sweet little kisses at the edge of it, watching the smaller openings flare around the larger slit.  His arm has found its way around Ben’s waist to keep him close�� a nice little way to realize his hips have started to grind against the bed.  He shuffles Ben’s body just enough to wedge a thigh between his legs.

“O-oh my god…”  Ben’s face falls to hide against his neck and Homelander's pleased as can be at the pitchy moan sung in his ear at the first swipe of his tongue.  “That’s– k-keep going…”

He tastes so, so fucking good.

It should be a crime for something so sweet to have been kept from him.

Homelander’s hips raise to meet the minuscule press of his cup and, in doing so, he pushes his thigh against Ben’s heat.

Ben keens weakly and starts to grind against him.  The bug’s fingers seek to stroke his cheek, stuttering with every swipe, every dip of that tongue into that sweet little opening.

It’s everything– everything Homelander needs to get closer to his own release.  Not even a touch to his cock, just the knowledge, the fucking feeling of Ben getting off on him.

Because of him.

The god of death has tainted the god of love.

He gasps sharply against Ben’s wrist.  Lips have pressed to the exposed part of his neck and he’s out of his fucking mind.

Ben is kissing him.

Benjamin is fucking kissing him.

His tongue juts out and he wriggles the tip deeper into that delicious slit.  He rocks his leg up against Ben, squeezes around his waist, helps direct him to ride it out.

Drool trails down his chin, but he can’t possibly care about that.  Why in the world would he ever focus on himself when his little spider was right there?

Is this what the fates wanted?  That he should have such an enrapturing taste before their lips could meet for the first time?  Were they meant to fall into one another before such a simple act?

But he could change this!  He could.

 He could and he fucking should.

If he could stop being so fucking selfish and demanding more and more of that sugary sweet flavor, he could break away and kiss his little spider for the first time.  He could lock lips with him, savor the most simple act of love, if he could just–

The taste is torn from his mouth, leaving behind only tiny wisps of webbing.

A hand tangles in his hair and Ben’s forehead presses to his.

That hand he’s been suckling on falls to cup him through the suit and he sees stars.  His breath catches, his eyes roll back, he’s so close, he–

“Be–”

The press of softness and warmth cuts him off.  Moving against him, breaths panting between pecks, Ben kisses him with a tenderness unlike anything he’s ever known.  He’s mewling and it’s downright pitiful, but he feels everything.

He cries out open mouthed against his little spider when his orgasm hits.  His cock weeps in the confines of his suit, relieved only by the press of the hand between his legs.  Ben pants against him until a shaky moan rips from him to signal his own undoing.  Each thrusts against the other, clinging, grasping, needing.

“Johnny– oh god!” 

Homelander’s too far gone to do more than moan through his gaping mouth.  He’s ascended from hell to heaven.  

This is…

He feels so…

So warm.  So peaceful.

Where is the shame?  Where is the anticipation of being told to go?  Why hasn’t Ben rolled off of him yet?

Is this how it was always meant to feel?

Like basking in the sun, floating above the clouds, but… so much better.  He, who has graced what humanity’s ancestors believed to be the heavens, knows no height above this world could feel like this.

No solar glow nor moonlight breeze could tingle the way Benjamin’s peppered kisses do.  No sound more melodious than that huff of joyful laughter.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

And nothing in the world more powerful than those seven little words.

It takes a concentrated effort to reply through the torrent of emotion he feels.  The words come out shaky and tearful, but they come out all the same.

He’s safe enough to say it.

He can let those words fly free without fear.

“I know I’m in love with you.”

The kiss that follows is even better than the first.

[crimsonsongbird]

I'm sorry I keep posting bad news, but nothing in my life is really going right at the moment.

Asking for help feels like failing because that is how I was raised. "Pull yourself up by your bootstraps" sort of mentality. "Grin and bear it." I genuinely feel like I am failing at adulthood. No matter how responsible I act by budgeting, cutting things out, shopping smart, and planning, I always fail in the end. Unexpected expenses keep popping up. Medical expenses. Vehicle expenses. I cannot catch a fucking financial break. I just want to not be drowning in debt. Up to 4k of medical debt now. My car needs $900 in repairs. I owe 12k in student loans.

Please know that I do work. My husband works. We both work fulltime jobs. I am chronically (physically and mentally) ill and I force myself to work a fulltime job because I have no other choice. Even with our combined incomes, we are struggling with all these unexpected expenses. So, here I am, asking for help because I cannot keep doing this alone. I will only end up with more medical expenses because I will end up inpatient again.

If you are in a financial spot to do so, please consider buying a reading, a spell, a sigil, or a devotional. Or if you feel so inclined to donate, I have C*sh*pp, P*yP*l, and V*nm* right now. Anything helps.

Love,

Crimson

[qqueenofhades]

So I decided to go back to school this year and am now in grad school, which I am somewhat struggling with more than I would like; damn them ADHD brain gremlins. As a grad school veteran, do you have any tips for not drowning in grad school while being a semi-functioning employed adult? 💚

Aha, well. I haven't actually gone to grad school while also working full time (unless I really lose my mind and do another master's degree while also managing two and/or three academic programs, but let's not talk about that), so I don't have specific suggestions in that regard. However, I can offer my basic tips for surviving grad school, which include:

* Set a routine and make sure you block out time to do your reading and/or writing. If nothing else, prioritize this. A lot of your grade in the class will come from what is directly before the professor's eyeballs, i.e. whether you can prove that you actually have a clue what they're teaching you and whether you can write coherently as a result. You can skim-read (dirty secret: almost all academics do), but you have to know how to skim-read, so you'll still taking in the essential points of the content. Usually this means reading the abstract, the introduction and conclusion, and maybe the beginning and end of each chapter or article section. Take notes. If you think "oh no, I'll definitely remember that!" -- that is the devil talking. Read with a pen in your hand. Future You will thank you.

* Likewise: you will need to take at least a few days to write a decent grad school essay. Plan in advance. Some people are the kind who can frantically scramble to pull an entire undergrad essay out of the hat on the night before and submit it at 11:59pm, but a) this doesn't work in grad school, or at least not as much, and b) if that's how you're going through it, you're not getting value out of it for money, and grad school is FRIKIN EXPENSIVE. The most amount of outstanding student loan debt I have is from my master's degree, not my bachelor's or PhD. If you're skating through it and bullshitting everything, then it's just not worth what you're paying.

* COMMUNICATE! PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, COMMUNICATE!!!! This should be both to your professors in school and/or your bosses at your regular job. If you anticipate a schedule conflict, need an extension, have something that needs to be done in one front that will have to take priority over the other -- PLEASE COMMUNICATE! (Is this my Traumatized Faculty And/Or Administrator Voice talking? You can't prove it.) Don't drop in with a panicked email five hours before the deadline and beg for more time/a dispensation/extension/whatever. Most people will be willing to work with you, but that relies on giving them time and/or planning space to do so and make other arrangements; after all, they are also counting on you to be a team player and if you can't be, to give them the chance not to be screwed by your absence. It is a basic courtesy to promptly answer (and my god, READ!!!!) your emails and to communicate with other people BEFORE problems arise, rather than when you're right in the middle of them and it is already an emergency. Everyone will thank you for this.

* Likewise: work out which things need to be done as soon as they come up, and which ones are able to wait a little longer. My particular brand of neurodivergence often makes me think that I need to do new things RIGHT NOW GOD RIGHT NOW FIVE ALARM FIRE!! and I stress and get anxious until I do them, even if I'm already working on something else. Project-hopping can sometimes be helpful if you're feeling blocked on something else, but do also have a sense of what needs to be prioritized most.

* If you're not already on medication and/or have some way of managing your ADHD: I would strongly recommend that. Grad school is hard enough, and you don't need to make it artificially harder. There are always the usual bugaboos about obtaining any kind of care, but do what you have to do, medically or otherwise, to make sure you're putting your best foot forward and not artificially sabotaging yourself because the brain chemicals just won't play ball. Believe me, I also know something about that, so yeah.

Good luck!

[onceuponmyanime]

Obey Me Devildom

*I've always wanted to write about little Fluffy segments on the side about how MC felt in a new place like the Devildom with all these people she should be afraid of but finds an odd sense of belonging.

So this is just my small take on it.*

The Catnapping Seventh Born…

"I've wanted to see you for so long, my brothers…"

"How are they all?" It was the first time Belphegor had intiated the conversation, and I could see that he looked kind of lonely.

I knew just how he felt.

"They seem distant. I think Mammon is drowning in debts, I overheard him talking to someone on his D.D.D."

"I'm embarrassed to call him my brother sometimes." I could hear the disapproval in Belphegor's voice as he spoke of his older brother. "He always seems to get himself in to stupid situations."

"Leviathan just bought a new game the other day, and he's locked himself in his room for five days so far."

"That sounds like Levi." The youngest of the seven brothers rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Satan attempted something he read in a book the other day, and I believe he's still paying for it now."

"Books are meant to be knowledgeable, but put them together with Satan and you could lose something." I watched as a small smile tilted his lips.

"Asmo is seeing someone, I'm not sure who but I have a feeling it may be the other human exchange student." An unnamed emotion passed fleetingly over his face, before he shrugged his shoulder carelessly.

"Asmo is Asmo. He's never interested in the same person for very long." But I could tell that he disapproved of his brothers sudden love interest.

"And Lucifer is always busy." Which was the understatement of the century.

"Busy being Diavolo's pet." Not once have I heard any of the other brothers use Lord Diavolo's name so informally, even though I've overheard him allow Lucifer to. He just chooses not to.

I looked at the Avatar of Sloth for a moment before I spoke again.

"Beelzebub misses you." I could see the sadness in his eyes as I mentioned his twin. "I wish I could tell him you're here, it would make him so much more happier." And I believe a lot more friendlier.

The sadness was gone, quickly replaced with indifference.

"That won't do anyone good, it'll make the situation worse." Thinking for a moment, Belphegor stared at me almost thoughtfully. "But there is something you could do for me."

Like I wasn't already doing something for him.

"As long as I'm not going to become a sacrifice, then I'm listening.

"Not that that doesn't sound like fun, but I was thinking you could probably do something for all of my brothers.

Something sounded fishy.

"What's the catch?"

"Nothing at all. You'll probably have to get close to each of them and find out what they like. Then do something nice for them."

Again, I found that I had already begun doing that.

"I guess I can do that."

Or at least I can try to.

[aijamisespava]

2023 vs. 2024 Part 2: Semi-Final 1 Countries

Continuing on our little adventure into the competing countries, we now look at the countries performing in the first Semi-Final in this year's contest and determining which entry I liked better...their 2023 entry or their 2024 entry.

Also, while there is one returning country and one non-returning country, I will go into those countries first before moving on to the countries with a 2023 and 2024 entry.

Luxembourg: Fighter. Okay. Yes, I am still sad about Drowning In The Rain not being the song talked about. But we are here to talk about Fighter, so let's do that. It's a cute lil' song that with right staging and running order could be a great performance! BUT, the reason it ranked low is the fact that with all the other shiny songs that came after it, it got lost in the shuffle a little. I do know we are getting a revamp, so maybe that will help the song a little more, we will have to wait and see.

Ukraine: Heart Of Steel vs. Teresa & Maria. Winner: Teresa & Maria. While Heart Of Steel is a wonderful song and great addition to my playlist, it had to grow on me a little bit before I could really appreciate it (thank the revamp too). But Teresa & Maria stays with me. I've seen so many reels of alyona and Jerry singing the song on Youtube reels (per algorithm), so I guess that's fate saying something.

Cyprus: Break A Broken Heart vs. Liar. Winner: Break A Broken Heart. Both are kinda sorta breakup songs. While Liar takes the sassy approach to the end of a relationship, I loved the melancholic feel that Break A Broken Heart has. I'm also a real sucker for high notes (need I remind you that I'm a Gjon's Tears fan?), which Andrew Lambrou does so well too.

Poland: Solo vs. The Tower. Winner: The Tower. There is no denying that Solo has cemented its place in the Eurovision meme world. And while it has grown on me enough to listen to it when someone put it on the aux cord, The Tower just sounds so good. I would literally be sitting around as the song starts and I'm like "wait, what song is this?" and then Luna starts singing and I'm like "ooooo yes!" Needless to say, I haven't tired of The Tower yet and still feel like I'm listening to it for the first time.

Serbia: Samo Mi Se Spava vs. Ramonda. Winner: Samo Mi Se Spava. This was so hard for me to decide as I actually really love both of them (I mean they both ranked 2nd). Ramonda is so beautiful and emotional, and may have changed what my favorite flower is. And Samo Mi Se Spava is an auditory experience. It went onto a WIP soundtrack within MINUTES after first listen, which is really the only thing making the decision. This will certainly fluctuate over time.

Lithuania: Stay vs. Luktelk. Winner: Stay. Luktelk, a great entry in full Lithuanian, a bop, a total dance song with great staging potential. I've liked it since I ranked the Lithuania songs in the NF. But with Stay, it's one of those songs that really came out at the right time, so I'm in emotional debt to that. But it was another tough decision for this country.

Croatia: Mama ŠČ! vs. Rim Tim Tagi Dim. Winner: Rim Tim Tagi Dim. Let 3 brought forth a piece last year that was also an experience. It was certainly an acquired taste, garnering as many fans as people who ranked the song dead last. But Baby Lasagna and Rim Tim Tagi Dim scratches that itch in my brain that I didn't know I had. Listening to it is fun, plus the lyrics kind of resonate with me (as a college student that moves out of her hometown to attend school).

Ireland: We Are One vs. Doomsday Blue. Winner: Doomsday Blue. I don't think there is another country that took such a drastic turn between what they sent in 2023 and what they send in 2024 as Ireland. We Are One was a great safe entry that fell victim to early selection and a bloodbath semi. Doomsday Blue, however, has something more. My biggest complaint with We Are One is that I felt something was missing. Doomsday Blue feels like a complete package that I know Bambie will bring to life on the stage.

Slovenia: Carpe Diem vs. Veronika. Winner: Veronika. Another tough decision here. Carpe Diem is up my alley musically with rock elements mixed with a spice of pop with an infectious attitude that makes me want to get up and dance. But Veronika? That song puts me in such a trance when I listen to it. The operatic spice adds a cinematic feel to it too.

Iceland: Power vs. Scared Of Heights. Winner: Power. Similar to Lithuania, Power came to me at a time where I might have really needed it. It's still such a great song (listened to it just the other day). Scared Of Heights has great energy which should garner some votes too, but only time will tell.

Finland: Cha Cha Cha vs. No Rules!. Winner: Cha Cha Cha. I don't think any entry can top the iconic energy that Käärijä and Cha Cha Cha had. No Rules! is a good follow-up to try and mimic (or better) the success their predecessor had. But I still dance around my room to Cha Cha Cha once in a while.

Portugal: Ai Coração vs. Grito. Winner: Ai Coração. This is my reminder to listen to Grito some more. Ai Coração jumps around my mind. It's fun, the performance was sassy. It is one of the best Portugese entries I have seen. Grito, however, has a very beautiful tone that should not be slept on either.

Australia: Promise vs. One Milkali (One Blood). Winner: Promise. One thing about me is that I love my ballads, and I love my rock entries. Promise is just that. It's a thrill from start to finish that I enjoy listening to whenever it plays on my playlist. However, I really liked the feel that One Milkali (One Blood) had when I listened to it. For my take, it's best described in the post I made about the song when it came out.

Moldova: Soarele Și Luna vs. In The Middle. Winner: Soarele Și Luna. This feels like an All-Star battle. We have Pasha Parfeni from 2012 and 2023 vs. Natalia Barbu from 2007 and 2024. And while In The Middle has one of the CATCHIEST hooks of this year's selection, Soarele Și Luna was my sister's winner last year. So whenever I hear this one, I tell her and it makes us happy.