#as you can see this has taken over my brain

[hadersversion]

‘tis the damn season.

“so we could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend.”

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue! reader

warnings: 18+, SMUT, p in v, fingering, begging, overstimulation, use of babe....let me know if i forget anything lol. ALSO in some places in america, thansgiving eve is literally just a holiday to get drunk in your hometown

your home for the holidays for the first time in years. you've been avoiding rafe, the reason you've been away for so long, but after seeing him again all the old feelings come back. when rafe sends a text one night, you end up in the back of his truck like old times.

i parked my car out front of my childhood home, staring at the old exterior.

somethings never change.

being back in the outer banks felt strange. it has been a while since i have been back, avoiding come home for as long as i can. but with a few begging phone calls from my mom and kiara, here i am.

i knock on my front door and am greeted with a bright smile.

"jj?" i ask, confused.

"welcome home, stranger." he says, with a hug and grabbing my bag.

i walk into my living room and see the pogues, sitting with my mom. a homemade 'welcome home' banner hanging above their heads.

my mom comes over and gives me a big hug. "i thought i would never see this face again." she says with a squeeze.

"boston isn't that far, mom." i tell her but i know she would never leave the outer banks. never in a million years. i turn towards the others and smile. "i wonder who could've put this together?" i say, looking at kiara.

"hey it wasn't all me, pope was the one who brought it up." she says, engulfing me in her arms.

"guilty." pope chimes in, joining the hug. i feel jj and john b join in as well. my family.

we break away and hang out in the living room, catching up.

"don't tell me you went all city on us, y/n." john b pokes fun at me.

"not completely. but it is nice having more things to do than hang on the beach and smoke." i wink.

"who could want more than that?" jj asks, making us all laugh.

"speaking of," kiara starts. "there's a little thanksgiving eve celebration happening at the wreck. just some people from high school. nothing big."

"just a chance to get drunk of our asses and go to dinner the next day hungover." jj says, causing kiara to nudge him.

"what do you say? want to join us?" i look around the room at my friends, all eager waiting for my response. with a sigh, i nod and they all cheer. "thank god, i don't think i could've done that alone."

i smile and nod. it should be fun, it will be. but my brain can't help to wonder if the one person who's kept me away from coming home will be there. no, he wouldn't. not with the pogues. but a part of me can't help but hope to see his face.

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i fix my sweater in the mirror in my room, my body fidgeting from anxiety. it's been a few days and i still can't shake that feeling from my body about being home. sure, i'm happy but this place holds so many memories. memories i wish to bury. i stare at the photo booth picture tucked into my mirror of him and i. i guess i forgot to hide this with the rest of the stuff. i take it off the mirror and sigh, examining it.

almost four years since it was taken. almost four years since we called it quits. and yet, he still haunts my memories. his presence making itself known through cheap beer at the bar, expensive men's cologne at the mall, exhaust that leaves motorbikes as they ride down the street. he's always there, whether i like it or not.

the sound of a horn breaks me free of my thoughts.

"y/n, they're here!" my mom calls from downstairs.

"coming!" i open my dresser drawer and slip the photo in before racing downstairs. i kiss my mom on the cheek and slip out the door, rushing into the van.

"ready to get fucked up?" jj asks with his devilish smirk.

i roll my eyes and laugh. "let's go."

we pull up to the wreck, it's already dark outside and a slight breeze fills the air. we all hurry in, greeted by familiar faces. my name is called from every direction, old friends from high school or the beach. all my fellow pogues who i know and love. when i'm done making my rounds, i head over to our table. everyone has some drink in their hand, beer or cocktail, and they all smile up at me.

"who would've though little y/n y/l/n would be a pogue celebrity?" pope jokes.

i flip him off and slide in next to john b. kiara hands me a beer and i take a sip. "i'm not a celebrity, i'm just one of the only people from this island who actually made it off."

they all make jokes at my despair, teasing me in any way they could when sarah walks up. i feel my stomach flip and i smile at her. "y/n!" she embraces me. "i'm so happy to see you!"

i hug her back and smile. "me too, sar. how's everything been?"

"the usual but i can't complain." she sits next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. "it's been forever."

"it has." i sigh. "it really has."

we all share stories and laugh around the table. we take shots, chug beer, and play different drinking games. just like old times sake.

"i need another beer." i say with a slight slur in my voice, standing up. "anyone else?" everyone shakes their head as i excuse myself.

i walk up to the bar and wait my turn, twirling my debit card in my hand. it could be the alcohol but i feel content and happy to be home.

"y/n?"

until that moment.

i don't want to turn around, i don't even want to accept my fate in this situation.

i know that voice, i could recognize it in a crowd of millions of people. it was the voice that lingered in my dreams, my thoughts.

i turn around and look at the man.

"rafe."

he looks older, his hair buzzed and some facial hair covering his face. but those eyes. they are the same eyes of the boy i loved.

we stood there, not saying a word. just taking the sight of one another in.

"i didn't know you were home." he says, not breaking eye contact.

i nod, biting my lip. "i am, i got home monday."

he chuckles to himself and shakes his head. "how long you here for?"

"till saturday. then i'm going back to boston." my throat feels scratchy and my face is on fire. i want to be anywhere but here now.

his eyes continue to study me. "two more budweiser's, please." he says to the bartender. i open my mouth to protest but he shakes his head. "on me, think of it as a welcome home gift."

the bartender hands me the beer and i smile. i turn back to rafe and tip the bottle to him. "thanks."

"no problem." he clinks his bottle to mine. we both take a long sip. my eyes are desperately trying to find a place to land, ending up on the bright sign above the bar. but rafe's are still on me.

"you okay?" kiara asks as she walks behind rafe. she is my gurdian angel.

"yeah, just waiting for my beer. excuse me." i squeeze past rafe and walk back to my table. i look back at him and smiles. i hate him.

a few drinks more and my ears are ringing. it was loud and everyone was far too drunk. i excuse myself for air outside. there are a few people lingering, smoking cigarettes or waiting for ubers. i smile and take in the nostalgia.

"you know, it would've been nice to know you were home." i hear rafe's voice next to me.

i roll my eyes and look up at him. "oh, would it have been? sorry, i didn't think you'd care." i say coldly. that liquid courage is taking control.

he looks down at me. "and why would i have not cared?"

"hmm, let me think." i put my finger to my chin. "oh, right. 'don't ever contact me again. we're so over. i wish i never met you. blah. blah. blah.' do you want me to go on?" i say to him.

i watch as he processes what i said to him, the words of our last fight. he looks guilty, for once in his life. "that was years ago, y/n. w-we were just kids."

"oh, really? then why haven't i heard from you for the past few years? phone works both ways, rafe." i say, shrugging.

he stands there quietly, i got him.

"how's school been?" he asks, nonchalantly.

"are you for real?" i ask.

"what? i'm being nice." he says.

i huff with frustration. "you are such an ass." i push pass him and walk onto the sidewalk.

"where are you going?" he asks, following after me.

"away from you." i say, not looking back.

i hear him run up behind me and he gently grabs my arm. "y/n. y/n, stop."

i turn to look at him. "what do you want from me, huh? you want to torture me even more?"

he stares at me, hand still on my arm. "what? of course not. y/n, i missed you."

"fuck off." i spit out without thinking.

"you're drunk."

"and you're an asshole." i say, flatly. "you...you fucking broke my heart and you expect me to act like everything is fucking dandy?"

"y/n." he tries to plead his case.

"no, rafe. you don't get to waltz in here and act like everything is okay with us. do you know how much you fucked me over? one day you're telling me you love me and you want to move to boston with me and the next, you're dumping me over the phone." i poke his chest. "i did everything you wanted, i kept what we had between us a secret, i took care of you. and nothing was enough for you."

he looks down at his feet in guilt. "i-i know, i'm sorry. i was...i was fucked up back then. with my dad on my case and the drinking...i wasn't okay. i felt like..." he cut himself off.

"what, rafe? you felt like, what?" i ask.

"like i was going to hold you back, alright?" he raises his voice. "you are too good for this place, for me. i didn't want to hold you back. i loved you too much to do that to you." i stare at him and laugh. "what? what's so fucking funny?"

"you, rafe. you." i sigh. "instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid. we could've worked that out. but you were too scared." i close my eyes and shake my head. "goodbye, rafe."

i walk down the street, hugging my body as the wind blows. a weight has been lifted off my shoulders but there's still that feeling i get whenever i think of him. that feeling that i miss him.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

thanksgiving flew by, even though i had a hangover that felt like it would last a lifetime.

i helped my mom clean up the kitchen as the pogues did the dishes and took the trash out. just like old times.

once we were done, we sat outside around the bonfire. you would think after yesterday, drinking would come to a halt but jj found a bottle of vodka in the freezer and mixed it with kiara's apple cider. we all enjoyed each other's company but my mind could not help but wander. my last conversation with rafe ringing through my head.

"instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid."

i shake my head and take a sip of my spiked cider. as much as it rang true, there was still that part of me that wonders 'what if?'. the more i thought about it, the more i wanted to pick up my phone.

no, i need to be the bigger person. i'm stronger than that. i can't text him first.

then i felt my phone buzz in my lap.

rafe: hey

i stare at the text and bite my lip. i know i should ignore it, let it go unread. but my fingers work against my brain and type 'hi' back to him. i sit there, eagerly waiting for a response.

rafe: can we talk?

rafe: i'm sorry about last night, i'm a fucking idiot.

rafe: there's so many things i could say to you rn

rafe: but i miss you.

rafe: i wanna see you.

i look around at my friends and sigh, they would be so mad at me for this.

y/n: sure, give me like an hour.

y/n: park down the street at the usual spot.

my friends leave my house, mainly due to me faking another wave of hungover puking. i run upstairs and check myself out in the mirror, i look damn good. when i get his text, i sneak out the backdoor and hurry down the street. i see his truck parked under the big tree, the spot he always parked in.

i open the truck door and hop into the passenger seat. i look over at him, he's still in his dressy clothes. a blue polo that hugged his arms right and khakis that made his thighs look exceptionally big. he knew what he was doing and i can't tell if i hate him or love him for it.

we drive in silence for a bit, his radio playing music faintly. his hands grip the steering wheel as his mind looks like he's on another planet. i play with the ends of my sweatshirt, anxiously waiting for him to do something. anything.

he pulls up to the beach, the spot where we would always come to. it was dark and the waves crashed against the shore loudly. he turns the car off and looks over at me.

"thanks for meeting me." he says simply.

"sure."

"i'm sorry about last night. you went out to have fun and i ruined it, i know i did."

i just nod at him.

"and...you were right. about it all." he sighs, running his hands over his face. "i should've manned up, talked to you about how i was feeling. but you know how i get. i get too in my head and just jump to conclusions. it wasn't fair to you." he looks into my eyes. "these past few years without you have been a living hell and i have only myself to blame."

"are you drunk? high?" i ask.

"w-what?"

"are you not sober?" i ask again.

"i'm sorry, what? of course i'm fucking sober." he says. "why would i not be?"

"rafe cameron...taking accountability? i'm sorry, it just seems so...foreign?" i laugh.

"i'm being serious, y/n."

i laugh again. "oh, i'm sure. and...the sky is green. we live on the planet pluto. aliens exist and so do unicorns!"

he pinches the bridge of his nose. "y/n, i'm telling the truth! god, you always joke around."

"yeah, because i know you." i say to him. "and you would rather eat concrete than admit you are wrong."

"eat concrete?" he asks, with a smirk.

"you know what i mean!" i huff with frustration.

he grabs my hand and stares in my eyes. "y/n, i am fully sober. we are not in another universe, it is not opposite day. i was wrong and i am sorry."

my brain malfunctions as i look into his eyes. "y-you mean it?"

"every word i said."

my brain not working means i experienced a lack of better judgment. i grab rafe by his collar and connect our lips for the first time in years. this kiss, the one i have longed for since i left this place, was the missing puzzle piece i've been searching for in my life. everything seemed to make sense again.

his hands cupped my cheeks as his tongue slipped into my mouth. he was hungry for me and i wasn't going to stop him because i felt insatiable as well. his hands roamed from my cheeks down to my neck and onto my shoulders.

i needed more.

i climbed onto his lap and straddled him. my arms connected around his neck as he pressed against me. i felt his cock hard against his khakis and i wanted it. i wanted it all. i rubbed myself against him, causing us both to moan.

he continued to kiss me until he broke away and looked at me. his puffy lips formed a cocky smile as he brushed his nose against mine. "you missed me."

"shut up." i was itching for more.

"admit it, you missed me. you missed the way i made you feel." he states.

"rafe, shut up and kiss me, please."

"ah ah ah." he shook his head. "not until you tell me."

"you're such an ass." i roll my eyes, trying to catch my breathe.

"yet, here you are, rubbing yourself against me in my truck." he says, kissing my cheek. his lips then go to my ear and down my neck. "i want it all with you, right now, babe. but i need to hear it."

"fine! fuck, i missed you. are you happy?" i groan, needing him.

"very. get in the backseat." he demands. i quickly follow his order, hopping in the back over the seats. he gets out of the truck and opens up the back door, sliding in next to me. "come here." he pulls me back onto his lap and we pick up where we left off. i continue to rub myself against him as he sloppily kisses me. "just like old times." he jokes and i hit his shoulder. "c'mon, don't act like you don't think about it."

"oh, i do. but i bet you think about it more than i do." i smirk.

"probably." he laughs. his fingers fall to the hem of my sweater and he plays with it. "now are we only here to kiss or?"

"why? you wanna fuck me in your truck? just like old times." i say, making fun of what he just said.

"i do, i wanna fuck you right here, right now. it's all i've been wanting to do." he kisses my jawline. "do you want me to fuck you?"

this is what i missed the most, our back and forth.

"yes, rafe. i want you to fuck me." i moan out.

with that, he practically rips my sweater off my body and starts to kiss down my chest. his large hands palm my clothed breast. i bite my lip and let my head fall back, missing the way he affected my body. i felt his hand snake around to the back and unclip my bra quickly.

"show off." i say, out of breathe.

i smirks and connects his lips to my nipple, sucking and licking it. his hand massaging my other. "don't pretend you don't like it."

i smirk and shake my head.

he continues to focus on my tits, going back and forth between the two.

"more." i whisper, eyes clenched shut.

"what was that?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"i need more, rafe. please." i beg.

"look at you all needy for me. i knew you missed me." his hand slipped under my jeans and panties, stopping right at my core. i felt his fingers curl inside me, going in and out. "all wet for me, huh? what a good girl." he pushed in, fingering my cunt, when his thumb found my sensitive bud. he added pressure, circling it, and i felt as though i was seeing stars.

"s-shit." i cry out, moving my hips to try and gain some friction.

"feel good, baby? let me hear how could i make you feel." he picked up his pace and a pornographic moan escaped my lips. it's been forever since someone has made me feel this good. rafe knew my body like it was his own, he knew how to get me going. "there we go, like how my fingers feel?"

"u-uh huh." i nod, mouth hanging open.

his fingers worked their magic, rubbing my clit at a pace that'll make me come undone in no time. "love the way you look on top of me, baby. so fucking sexy." he attached his lips to my tits again and continued fingering me.

i felt on fire.

i place one hand on the window and the other on his shoulder, holding on for dear life. the more he whispered about me and the faster his fingers were going, i was cumming on his fingers before i knew it. i rode out my high, screaming his name. once i was done, i felt him pull his fingers out of my pants, my juices getting all over myself. i stared down at him, trying to catch my breathe, as he popped his fingers into his mouth and sucked.

"just as good as i remember." he cleaned his fingers off and kissed me again. my hands ran down his buff chest and stopped at the bottom of his polo, lifting it up. his gold chain laid against his chiseled body, he was perfect. i felt as though i was in a trance as i began to kiss down his chest. i could feel his groans vibrating in his chest and i smirked because i was the one making him feel this way. "i need to fuck you."

"you need to?" i laugh, kissing lower and lower.

"yes, y/n. i need to bury myself inside of you, please." he pleaded.

"i like when you're the one begging." i bite him lightly, causing him to hiss.

"i bet."

i unbuttoned his khakis and sat up so he could slip them off. his grey boxers were discolored from the precum leaking off his cock. he took his underwear off and his cock sprung out. "i-i don't have protection." he said, mentally cursing himself out.

"well, are you clean?" i ask.

"yes. i-i haven't been with anyone since." he openly admitted.

i felt the darkness overtake my eyes as i lower myself down onto him. his breath hitched as he slipped all the way in. he was deep inside of me, causing a few tears to leave my eyes. but the pain subsided as he started to rock my hips with his hands, moving me back and forth. i picked up the rhythm he started with me and placed my hands on his shoulder to steady myself. i felt the truck rocking back and forth as i did so.

his hands found my ass and rested there. "fuck, i missed your pussy. so good, takes me so well." he kissed my chest as i grinded back and forth.

i felt my finger nails dig into his shoulder as his cock hit all the right spots. i looked down at him and he stared at me in awe, like i was some work of art. "fuck, rafe. you're so big."

i bite my lip as i let my head fall back in pleasure. i ride him fast as i keep saying his name. "shit, y/n. you're such a good girl, you're so hot. you feel so tight."

i connect our lips, i feel his hands tighten around my ass. this means he was close. "i want you to cum in me, rafe." his eyes widen as he opens his mouth to ask for permission. "p-please fill me up. i miss it so much." i say, trying to catch my breathe.

with that, he lets out a groan and my name falls from his lips like a prayer. "y/n." i feel him coming inside me, painting me. it doesn't take long for his thumb to find my clit again. with the extra pressure applied to my overstimulated cunt, i feel my head reeling. the air in the truck is hot, making it almost hard for me to breath. it all feels too much, my body releasing onto rafe yet again.

we sit there, panting with our eyes closed. i rest my head on his sweaty chest and he kisses me gently. he rubs my back, tracing circles into it.

"felt even better than i imagine." he says, his voice gruff.

"you thought about it a lot, huh?" i smirk.

"all the fucking time."

i take him out of me and sit next to him in the truck. the windows are foggy and our hands find each other, holding them. i get a sense of weird nostalgia, from how things used to be with us.

"well that was a thanksgiving to remember." i joke, trying not to feel overwhelmed by what happened.

"'tis the damn season." he replies.

i slowly slip my sweater back on and try to find my pants.

"w-wait." rafe says. "is this...is this it? just a single fuck and you're gone."

i look at him, his eyes pleading with me.

"i go back to boston on saturday rafe, we only have like a day and a half."

i wish we could keep this going, i wish this was how things always were. but i had to think realistically. i have to go back home, i have to move on with my new life.

he grabs my hand and squeezes it. "boston is only an 11 hour drive. hour or two by plane."

"rafe." i say.

"i can't lose you again. i can't, y/n. these past few years have sucked without you. i can't wait until you come home for christmas again. now that i've got you again, i can't risk it."

i sigh and kiss his hand. "i know. i know." i close my eyes and shake my head. "we'll make it work. we almost did it before."

"we can do it again." he smiles sweetly. i kiss his lips gently, laying my hand against his chest.

"you'd do an 11 hour car ride for me?"

"y/n, i'd fucking walk if i have to." he smiles.

i roll my eyes and kiss his cheek. "you're so cheesy."

he lays me back against the truck seats and kisses me. "don't act like it doesn't work for you."

[azaharinflames]

Will you share your theory on what you think is happening behind the scenes of 911?

Hi, Nonnie!

Sure! As long as everyone is aware this is purely speculation, and nothing I say should be taken as proof of anything, I have no problem.

I've gone over a few things in my head, to be honest. I thought that JLH having filming conflicts could've been a major factor, and I still don't exactly disagree with that initial idea, but overall I think it was one of the things that threw TM for a loop.

Now, I've seen a lot of people theorize that perhaps Angela is leaving and that is what is causing so much chaos in BTS, but I am on the fence about this. I do think she might've asked to not have such a big role moving forward, especially if they get a season 9 (which I am also on the fence about ngl), like perhaps retiring, or just having a more laidback position training new recruits. The seeds are planted for that, not so much for her fully leaving. And it would give Angela more free time to dedicate to other projects (which, yes please. I need her in new projects ASAP).

So... (and please don't kill me for this, it's just a theory).

I think it all comes back to Ryan. And that he perhaps is leaving, or actively wants to leave. I will try to explain myself as concise as possible:

A couple of months ago there was already speculation about this. In all of his individual interviews (which were a lot, to be honest), Ryan made a point of talking about his work beyond 911 and talking about what he would like to do after 911.

On top of the individual promo, there was an uncharacteristically high amount of BTS dedicated to him and the godforsaken mustache. To the point where they threw a mustache party. And in the pics of that party, the vibes were that it was a party for Ryan, not in general.

Small thing, but Josh randomly dressing up as Eddie for Halloween. Perhaps unrelated, but I wanted to add it.

The 911 account reposting and celebrating Ryan's 100th ep, when 1. it wasn't his 100th (if we count the eps he was actually in) and 2. it was also JLH's, and yet they didn't say a thing about it. Ryan reposted that as well and the message he reposted it with was more nostalgic than anything else. Very much giving 'it was an honor to work with you, what a journey'.

I could be wrong, but I do think his contract ends this season. So, that just adds to it.

The timeline of the move to Texas. By the reactions alone I was fully expecting Eddie to leave for Texas at the end of 808, and then to be back with Chris (in a lazy way of solving their conflict off-screen) by 809-810. But the way he's currently thinking about it makes it very sus for me. As in, it can be a thing for the end of the season, and an actual goodbye for Eddie.

Of course, nothing of this has to actually happen, and it's quite possible it just exists in my brain. But this makes sense in my funny brain because then it explains why BT had to break up so soon... because they wanted Buck to feel completely isolated.

We know 809-10 will deal with Maddie being kidnapped. That alone will make Buck spiral. But if on top of that his best friend is also leaving... well, being alone just adds to the isolation and the angst. Because if Tommy was still around he'd be able to lean on him, and have him help him through this. But it seems like the writers wanted Buck fully alone for this, because sure, seeing a character never learning and being completely isolated is so much fun.

If this ends with BT getting back together, I honestly don't know. It wouldn't surprise me if Tim doesn't know. But, all in all, I wouldn't be surprised if RG deciding he's done is the thing that kinda created the domino effect.

(Also: I do not believe Oliver was telling Tim to fire Lou and end BT. Sorry. I just don't really see it. Nor do I think there were actual conflicts between actors BTS, as much as everything they're doing right now does feel a bit weird)

Anyway, thanks for letting me rant, Nonnie! My inbox is always open for ranting, venting, or discussing

Take care <3

[thelightsandtheroses]

one: florida!!!!

Call It What You Want | Frankie Morales x OFC

Summary: Daisy never expected to move to Florida but recovering from burnout in the sunshine state seems a good enough plan. Years after the death of her estranged half-brother, Tom, she finds herself agreeing to move in with Frankie Morales, Tom’s former army colleague and friend. Falling for her roommate, who is definitely keeping secrets about your brother’s death, may not be the best way to ensure a fresh start, or is it actually what they both needed all along? Chapter Warnings: 18+ blog MDNI, mentions of previous canon death and grief, references to corporate burnout Word Count: 3.7k Notes: Please note I am not from Florida, or even the US, so there’s a degree of creative license here, What I know about firefighting probably comes from 9-1-1, other firefighter shows, or google so please don’t think this is gong to be an accurate depiction of the Florida FD for Frankie. It’s fic, babes, let’s let me be a little self-indulgent. This is a rewrite of my first fic which felt too fast, too angsty and not the story I wanted to tell for a concept I really loved. It’s seen some considerable changes since then while retaining several themes, but I am so excited to share this and particularly this version of Frankie who has been rotting my brain for months and months 🔥 🔥🫠

Series Masterlist | Next. | A03

Palm trees, beaches and viral memes. That’s what I’ve always associated with Florida. It never struck me as a potential place I would make my home. I thought I might vacation there one day perhaps; some time in a distant future when I had a real grown-up life and family and we would go to the theme parks, buy overpriced merchandise and fried food and take cheesy photos before flying or driving home.

It’s funny how things work out though, isn’t it?

I pull into the apartment block with trepidation.

This is the fourteenth apartment I’ve viewed this week. Fourteen. I thought the market back in Chicago was bad but this is a whole new hellscape, or maybe it was easier because I knew more people back then. College roommates turn into post-college roommates and your circle is fully formed. It means you have people when you need to find a new place, there’s a whisper network, friends of friends.

I don’t have that anymore.

I want it though. I miss it.

I think I miss it.

The advert says that this listing is for a single room and the apartment is occupied by a group of young professional women. It’s the best option I’ve come across yet in my browsing of online postings which has taken me through several levels of Dante’s inferno. Facebook is just one above Craigslist in the hierarchy of the internet hellscapes I’ve seen recently.  One guy asked for my shoe size and asked if I routinely wore high heels before I could view the apartment. Safe to say, that one went off the list extremely quickly. It was a shame though - that listing had a double room and balcony, but I think I can see why it’s been listed for over sixty days now.

I haven’t had a roommate since college and this whole process has been a soul-crushing exercise on my already fragile self esteem. I don’t think I can take much more of this.

I take a deep breath. I’ve got this. I will find a room so I can move out of Molly’s and do something, anything with my life. Anything that’s not just existing in this strange purgatory I’ve found myself in. I’m potentially placing too much importance on the apartment here, but it’s a symbol, an omen.

It’s a fresh start. A signal to the universe that I’m here, that I’m doing something.

I feel like everything else I’m hoping and dreaming of can’t even start unless I have an apartment, and I can’t afford my own apartment and start a business so I need to find a roommate.

Maybe this is finally the one.

“It was so bad, Benny,” I say, taking a glug of lukewarm beer. “It was like being in high school over again, but worse. Infinitely worse!”

“Worse?” Benny tilts his head as he asks the question, something that only heightens my association between him and golden retrievers.

“Yes, because I’m not sixteen with a promise it’ll get better when I ‘find my people’ in college. This sucks. What was I thinking? Clearly I wasn’t. Maybe I should have stayed …” I trail off awkwardly.

“You were thinking that Florida is the perfect place to start over, which it is, Daisy,” he replies confidently.

Benny and his brother, Will, have played a considerable part in my move here. They served with my half-brother Tom.

Tom died more than five years ago - I don’t really know much about how it happened, Tom and I weren’t particularly close. There was an age difference, I sometimes felt he didn’t want me as a sister. I was only a reminder of his own parents’ relationship breakdown after all. I wish I could say we had that sibling bond but we didn’t. It’s clear to me his real siblings were the men in his team - he was their brother.

After his death though, Will kept in touch with me. I wondered if he thought he needed to fill a gap from Tom, if there was a sense of responsibility there. Tom never called me though except for birthdays and Christmas. I haven’t told Will that though.

It’s been nice feeling like I have a big brother. The irony isn’t lost on me that I feel this the most once my actual big brother is dead.

Will encouraged me to move down here, as did Molly, Tom’s ex-wife. They said I needed a fresh start and maybe they’re right.

I can’t remember the last time I felt like me. I’m not even sure what that feels like now, who I’m supposed to be and who I am really.

Florida seems a good place for reinvention though, for something new. I’m closer to the beach, to weekends spent with my toes scrunched in the sand as I sip coffee and read books. Days spent with Benny and Will

“Hey Benny,” A voice calls as I hear the front door open.

“We’re in here.“

“You remember Frankie, right?” Benny asks casually. “Tom woulda called him Catfish?”

“Uh, sure.” I don’t but I won’t admit to that. I remember the name vaguely, but that’s all. Tom wasn’t big on the details of his life with me.

“You probably saw him at the wake last,” Benny adds.

Even if it hadn’t been four years ago since I last saw him, all I can remember of Tom’s funeral is a procession of strangers and the continual vibration of my work phone as I stood in a strange graveyard. That whole day was a stark reminder of the distance between us, that my own blood was a ghost to me even when he was alive. It bought me Molly, Tess and Will though.

Frankie walks in. He’s a little older than Benny but younger than Tom was. He’s all dark eyes and curls peeking out through a battered baseball cap; softly tanned skin and that smile … that smile is something. If he could bottle that up and sell it, I’m pretty sure he’d find a captive market.

“Frankie, you remember Daisy, right? She’s moved here,” Benny says. “She’s starting a coffee van.”

“Uh - yeah.” Frankie has no clue who I am, but his efforts to conceal that are admirable. “Now you mention it, Will might have said something about that. You’re uh, staying with Molly for now, right? You were in Boston before?” I nod, wondering what Will has exactly said to Frankie about my move. “A coffee van?”

“Eventually,” I add nervously, “It’s a whole process. So, I’m actually just temping for now while I get things sorted.” I have no idea why I’ve told him that, why I still want to introduce myself based on my career, on my outward accomplishments. I’m almost surprised I haven't tried to find an old business card in my pocket or referred him to my LinkedIn profile where it neatly lists all my employable skills and experience.

 Daisy is highly skilled in project management, board engagement, data analysis  and most of all completely falling apart all of the time, but she makes a mean slide deck. Plus, guess what, she’s open to work!

“Oh, right, cool.”

“Frankie works for the fire department. He’s a firefighter pilot now,” Benny says. “Out here making me look bad.”

“Aw, I keep telling you don’t need my job to do that, Benny.”

Benny laughs heartily and throws a cushion at Frankie who catches it with ease and a raised eyebrow.

“Well, that’s definitely cooler than paperwork and admin.”

“Not really,” Frankie says, “I mean, it’s not really cool if you know what I mean.”

“Oh,” you say with a groan, “that might be the most dad joke I’ve heard.”

“It’s a classic though,” he replies lightly. “You got a soda, Benny?”

“Fridge. Wait, I just had a brilliant idea,” Benny suddenly interjects with a grin. “I mean, I’m a genius.”

“Oh yeah?” Frankie asks, one eyebrow quirking up. “About soda?”

“No, no, no. You need a roommate, right?”

“Yes?” Frankie replies slowly with the seasoned reluctance of someone who knows exactly what Benny’s brilliant ideas usually result in.

“Daze needs a room, you need a solid roommate, voila!” Benny makes a complicated hand gesture and smiles widely.

It seems too simple, too obvious but despite the terrible apartment earlier, my heart races as I wonder what if Benny’s onto something.

“Benny, I’m sure Daisy would -”

“How soon is it available?” I ask.

“Uh, immediately. My last roommate moved in with his boyfriend, which is great for him, but I’ve been struggling to find anyone suitable for it since then.”

“Suitable?” Immediately flashbacks of the weird Craigslist ads come back to me, please don’t say Frankie is going to say something odd. “What do you mean, suitable?” I really hope Frankie isn’t actually the weird shoe size guy from Craigslist.

“I have a kid who stays with me regularly. I need someone I can trust, someone safe to be around him, and someone who’s not going to be a …”

“Frankie wanted to mandate a background check,” Benny interrupts, before raising his hands at Frankie’s expression. “I said I got it! Perhaps, if you interrogated people less though ….”

“I’m not gonna apologise for prioritising my kid.”

“So, do I need a background check to apply then?”

“Nah,” Benny says, “you’re Tom’s sister, right Frankie?”

There’s a comforting weight to his words. The conviction in his voice, the simple answer that takes it for granted that maybe I’m not one of them, but I’m adjacent at least. It feels unfamiliar. I’ve never been Tom’s sister, not to Tom at least.

I feel as though I’m wearing someone else’s skin, another identity, and it’s alien but comforting. It’s an identity I never knew I could wear. One I never even knew was an option.

“You’re actually considering this then?” Frankie asks, eyebrows raised.

“Well, yeah. Benny’s heard all about my nightmare of an apartment hunt so far… unless, I mean. If you don’t want to then that’s fine.”

“Alright Tom’s sister,” Frankie begins with a soft smile.

“Daisy.”

“Daisy. “I’ll send you the info. let me know whether you’re still interested then. No pressure.” His voice is honey smooth, low and there’s something else.

His eyes.

They’re kind. Soulful even.

“I’m interested,” I say without thinking. “I’m definitely interested.”

Of course life isn’t as simple as just being interested in the apartment and one magically falling into my hands. Frankie texts me the information which is sadly towards the top end of my truly pitiful budget but includes a double room, furnishings and the apartment has a balcony which in itself is a big reason enough to say yes. I instantly conjure up a romantic image of me sipping from a steaming mug of coffee in the mornings, watching the sunrise.

It’s farcical. I hate the sunrise, or at least being up at that time. I’m not a morning person at the best of times. 

Frankie says there’s a beach view from the balcony though … if you squint, lean one arm and twist at a very precise angle. It’s something he has advised he doesn’t recommend without exceptional health insurance though so that’s definitely off the table for now. He mentioned it’s close enough that the landlord said it was a coastal view but it’s clearly not really.

Texting him feels so easy - there’s a lightness to the conversation, even as we talk about something as serious as becoming roommates. It’s why I’ve agreed to this - the next step and the one that is now filling me with dread.

The coffee shop we decided to meet at is halfway between his place and Molly’s. I haven’t been here before but I mentally take notes of the roast, of the general ambience. The brownies look amazing - the perfect combination of a fudgy middles and the solid crackly top that immediately calls to me.

It’s a neutral space though, one where we can finally make a decision of am I becoming Frankie’s roommate or not.

I think I want to.

I really can’t take another week of Craigslist -especially after watching that true crime documentary last night.

I twist the empty sugar packet into a knot, only looking up as the doorbell chimes. I see Frankie immediately.

He’s wearing a baseball cap, dark hair curling out from underneath and the Florida FD hoodie he’s wearing looks particularly well worn, comfortable. I can almost imagine how it smells.

No. No. This is a roommate negotiation.

“Hey,” Frankie says as I stand up to greet him. I immediately panic - is this a hug situation, that feels too familiar, but a handshake feels like an awkward callback to my corporate days. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.

“Oh, you already ordered?” Frankie asks.

“Yeah, sorry, I got here a bit early. Overestimated the traffic. I haven’t been here long.” Frankie looks at my almost empty mug of coffee, cocking one eyebrow.

“No worries. Do you mind if I grab a drink though? Want another?”

“Oh no, I’m good, thanks.”

“Okay.”

He walks over to the counter and I sit down and watch him carefully. This is a test really, an opportunity to try and work out his personality further. Does he talk to the barista? Is he cold or insufferable? Is he rude? These are all qualities I should be able quickly establish in just a few moments. Mum always taught me to notice these things on a date, to tease out those basics in the early days. Not that it’s foolproof. Not always at least.

Frankie seems. pleasant though, laughing with the barista but there’s almost a shyness about him. I don’t get it. From how Benny described him - a pilot, a firefighter pilot no less, I would have expected him to be as extroverted as Benny.

Frankie’s a surprise though. There’s a quietness to him, a slow and careful evaluation in each glance, in how he takes in the cafe around us as he sits opposite me. He’s assessing everything too and it occurs to me that as much as I’ve set this meeting up to work out if I can live with him, he’s doing the exact same thing.

The people pleaser in me instantly calls to attention, ready to perform and be perfect, be liked. To succeed. Automatically I straighten my posture, try and remember my very best table manners. I prepare to perform.

“What’s your poison?” I ask, which is a phrase I never use and an immediate sign I need to shift out of performance mode.

“Just an Americano.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t approve?”

“no, I guess it’s fine. I mean, I would personally recommend a pour-over and filter coffee than a watered down espresso. Something like a V60 or a -”

“I see what Benny meant about the coffee truck.”

“I’m not judging!”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, only judging a tiny bit. Mostly I’m rambling. I’m just - I’ve never got the watered down espresso thing.”

“It’s got two extra shots in if that helps,” he confides with a smirk, “I was on shift yesterday.”

“Oh, we could have arranged this for later -”

“It’s fine. The shift wasn’t too bad, even got a few hours sleep!” Frankie empties sugar into his coffee and smiles up at me.

“How did you end up in the FD then? I don’t – I don’t remember it from before.”

Frankie pauses, twisting the empty sugar packet in his hands. The silence holds just long enough I worry I need to change the conversation before he speaks. “A couple of years ago I needed a change. It’s been good, much better than commercial helicopter flights for rich people.”

“Making a difference?”

“Trying to.” A ghost passes over his eyes. I immediately realise the link - Tom. His death. Was that the trigger for Frankie joining the fire department?

“Anyway, the apartment -” Frankie starts, reaching for his phone, “I took some new photos this morning.”

His wallpaper is him with a small boy. His son. I take in the wide toothy smile on his photo, the bright shine in his eyes and the same features I can see in Frankie, accompanied by a head full of brown curls.

“Felix,” Frankie says, a soft smile on his face.

“He looks like you.”

“Poor kid.”

“No, I mean - uh, how old is he?”

“Four and a half. He stays with me on alternate weekends, if I’m off shift, and sometimes in the week if his mom’s working late or something. A lot of it depends on my work patterns but that’s the general rule of thumb.” He wrings his hands together and I wonder what the story is there.

I have limited experience with children to say the least.

I’ve reached that point where half of my friends are parents, sharing photo after photo on their social media and speaking a whole new language. In contrast, the rest of my friends appear still mentally stuck in their early twenties party mindset. I’ve never been sure where I fit in with that; I’m definitely not a huge partier, but that sort of responsibility and commitment has filled me with anxiety. Maybe it’s my choice in friendships, in love.

I try not to think about it too much, the friendships left to dust over, the dates I was too scared to go on. I threw myself into my work instead because it felt safer somehow. I defined myself by my career and made that the only metric that matter.  I poured all of myself into the corporate world for all those years and it turns out I was naive. So naive. I actually thought they cared about me.

It’s hilarious in hindsight. Now I’m in Florida without even a leaving card to commend the efforts I put in. I’m a barely remembered spectre in the place I once thought I was indispensable in. A shameful secret swept under the rug. A never repeated name.

I can’t go back to that world again.

“Are you okay?” Frankie asks, concern creasing his brow. Great, five minutes into talking about becoming roommates and he already clearly thinks I’m disturbed.

“I’m fine, sorry, must have drifted away for a second.”

“Happens to us all,” he says lightly. “So, is that a problem?” Frankie folds his arms and I get the clear sense that he’s annoyed, that I’ve missed an important cue somewhere.

“Is what a problem?” I ask.

“Felix staying at the apartment, because sorry but it’s a non-negotiable”

“No, not at all. No, I just … I drifted away, like I said.”

“Right.”

Great, this is the first apartment that feels reasonable, and Frankie seems like a nice person and I’m wrecking it. Somehow at best, I’m managing to come across as scatty and someone who doesn’t listen, and a child hater at worst.

I need to get out of Molly’s. I need to make Florida work for me.

“I do that sometimes,” I say quietly, “It doesn’t mean I’m not listening, or anything. It’s just … it’s just something that happens. I don’t have a problem at all with Felix or …. it’s your home, Frankie.”

He pauses. “If you take the room, it’s yours too though.”

“And I get why you’re being careful about who takes the room because of that. Look, I can’t promise I won’t secretly judge your coffee choices, or leave coffee grounds everywhere, or watch really terrible TV from time to time, but I …”

“You don’t have to explain. I get it.”

“You do?”

“I do.” Frankie smiles. “So, you’re still interested in the room then? You really wanna do this? I thought Benny might be putting you up to this and I won’t be offended if you don’t want to live with some random guy.”

“Benny keeps reminding me you’re not though, are you?”

Frankie shrugs and looks away, something flashing over his eyes briefly that feels a little haunted.

Since moving back to Florida, I’ve realised that, at least for Benny and Will, Tom’s death is still an open wound even now. It makes me feel worse sometimes because Will was so kind to me after the funeral, so keen to ensure I knew they’d be there if I needed them, that I could rely on them in Tom’s absence and I didn’t know how to say I’d never been able to rely on Tom. My brother spent his life a half-stranger to me and I feel like a fraud pretending we were real siblings.  In five and a half years, the Millers and my brother’s ex-wife have been more of a family to me than Tom ever was.

“It’s okay,” Frankie says, “I’m sure you’ve got far better roommate options.”

“I actually really don’t. One guy asked for foot pics, and these women kind of judged me because I wasn’t corporate enough anymore, so I don’t have a wealth of better options.”

Frankie frowns slightly.

“It’s a brutal market. And your place looks… nice and you seem like you wouldn’t ask for -”

“Some guy really asked for that?”

“I blocked him, it’s fine. It’s the internet, Frankie.”

“Sometimes I fucking hate that thing.”

“Yeah, but I like being able to shop in my pyjamas.”

Frankie laughs. “Okay, fair point. So, Daisy, do you want the room? ‘Cause if you do, it’s yours.”

My heart races. The room is mine? It’s not just that I’ll be escaping from feeling like a perennial thorn in Molly’s life, but it’s a beginning. Finally I have the chance to make something here, to be Daisy 2.0 and leave the corporate burnt out husk of my old self in the rearview mirror.

“You don’t have some weird neighbour who plays the bagpipes at 3am?”

“No, I don’t have one of those. It’s a normal building.”

“Good, just wanted to check. Okay then, yeah, I think I do. Want the room that is.”

“Great. I’ll get the agreement emailed over to you and we’ll go from there.”

“This is going to be good”

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

I think this might be the handshake part.

Tag List

If you would like to be added to to my overall taglist please let me know - I am no longer creating individual fic taglists though. As a reminder this blog is 18+ - minors do not interact and I block blank/ageless blogs. Tag lists are a bit funky at the moment, so I recommend following me or my fic account @thelightsandtheroses-fics (you can enable notifications for that account) if you want to ensure you're up to date

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[scramblescrew]

Hey can I request uh....ancients with a y/n who finally gives up but ends up depressed? Like they usually lay there and do nothing and be basically a sad doll that needs lots of comfort?

((Sure thing, Anon! Here ya go! Sorry it took me so long! Writer’s block has been killing me

(TRIGGER WARNING FOR THEMES OF DEPRESSIVE TOPICS! IF IT IS TOO MUCH FOR YOU, PLEASE MOVE ON PAST)

.

.

.

.

Dark Cacao Cookie would start having a bit of an easier time realizing what you’re feeling. He had felt the same depressed, empty feeling when his son, Dark Choco Cookie, forced his hand and he was cast out of the kingdom.

But when he found out you were just laying in bed, usually motionless, he was concerned. He understood that you weren’t in an ideal mental state but you still needed to care for yourself.

Instead of having one of the citadel staff bringing you your rations, Dark Cacao did instead. When he unlocked the door to your chambers and entered. His heart ached even more watching you lay motionless on your bed, your chest slowly rising and falling with each breath.

“Y/N…”

DCC walked over with the food, set it down on the bedside table and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Please understand why I had to keep you here in the citadel…the world outside of these walls would corrupt you…take what it would from you then leave you for dead. I couldn’t have that for you…I can’t lose you…!”

After a few minutes of silence, DCC sighed and laid down beside you, pulling you in close, and wrapped his arms around Y/N.

“Please know that I love you…even if in your eyes it doesn’t seem so…”

—————————————————————————

Scared. Pure Vanilla Cookie is scared when he finds to mindlessly and silently pacing the grounds of his kingdom for who knows how many hours and even more fearful when he catches up to you and you stare blankly and wordlessly at him.

His heart breaks at this as he pulls you close and hugs you.

“Let’s get you back to bed, you must be exhausted…wondering for so long isn’t good for you…”

PV helped you to your shared bedroom and let you have privacy to get changed into more comfortable clothing before helping you into bed and healing any injuries you may have gotten from your wonder.

After everything was settled down and you were physically well again, PV got into bed with you, pull you close, and started kissing your forehead and gently rubbing your back as you lay there.

“Please don’t scare me like that…I never want to see you hurt…”

_____________________________________

Hollyberry was excited when you had taken your stay in her castle, your new home, better than she had anticipated, you occupied her to events without complaint (maybe a bit of reluctance and though not very much), you started to give her small bits of affection like holding her hand and reciprocating her hugs even if you were still very reserved, but somethings were still worrying…

What she worried about was went you started having sudden outbursts of rage and berating her for getting to close. It was like flipping a switch in your brain at random and it was…SCARING your captor.

After leaving you be for a while and do research on what she could do to help you and came up with a solution.

That night she sat you down and gently hugged you, explaining that she understands that you’re going through a rough time and that she wanted to help you. She was going to set up meetings with a therapist and will let you roam the kingdom with less strict supervision. All she wanted was you to get better and to love her.

“All I want in return is your love…please give me your love, my dear…”

—————————————————————————————————————

White Lily Cookie understood… being forced to stay in a barely familiar place with someone who claims to be your lover but is actually your captor can take a toll on a cookie. So it was understandable that you would fall into a depression. One where you couldn’t sleep(understandable as White Lily Cookie made you sleep in the same bed as her), you refused food or drink much to her worry, and your memory was getting worse by the day due to the aforementioned symptoms and more.

It all came to a head one day when you…just stopped moving at all, you didn’t get outta bed, you stopped what little resistance you gave to White Lily Cookie’s attempts to give you affection. You accepted all the hugs, kisses and the cheek and forehead, accepted her cuddling you at night, everything. You just stopped responding.

After a thorough examination from a doctor that was called in (No, Pure Vanilla Cookie was not asked for help. He had his own darling to deal with), it was found out that your depression had gotten worse, to the point of you had fallen into a Catatonic state.

After this revelation, White Lily would try every day to get you to get up or even just open your eyes and look at her. But White Lily soon conceded and focused on being there for you, gently holding you close and letting you be her sad little doll…

“My sweetest doll…it’ll all be ok. Please just open your eyes..for me..?”

—————————————————————————————————————

Golden Cheese Cookie held you in her arms with her wings wrapped around your body. With what has happened to her in the past, Golden Cheese Cookie understands what it’s like to feel so empty and hopeless.

But you staying in your bed all day….something in her….BEGS…for you to get up again…

The next thing you know, you are subjected to bi-daily tests and a sarcophagus is built to hold you and keep you inside of it. It was built so only Golden Cheese Cookie could get you out if she ever wanted to.

And that was the hardest part, the easiest part was locking you inside. You didn’t really fight back like you used to, like you did when she first brought you to her kingdom. But that just meant you would be hers sooner…

Once you were in GCC’s digital kingdom, you felt the urge to get up, to walk around, to be free, much to Golden Cheese cookie’s satisfaction and joy. She once again hugged and held you close with her wings wrapped around you.

“It’ll be ok now…I’ve got you…and you’ll never want for anything, my gem…”

————————————————————————————————————

Im here this is here, it’s raw, it took forever- I need a nap (I pulled an all nighter for this request so I could get it out for you all😊) *Dies*

[goddessofroyalty]

hello! the fanart of Viktor with a baby you reblogged this week got me right in the soft feels u.u would you consider revisiting the Work/Life Balance 'verse? (random ideas: pregnant Viktor dealing with a minor illness (very minor, not a complication, no real threat to his health and no threat whatsoever to the baby, but Jayce is still fussing over them)? how a newborn affects Viktor's already hectic work/sleep schedule? either Viktor can't or chooses not to nurse and good papa Jayce does his part with formula and bottles?)

Kind of combined the second two parts of this into what I’ve written but more leaning on good papa Jayce helping feed their baby. Maybe I’ll figure out a quick 4th scene (to even out the POV’s) that focuses a bit more on Viktor’s messy sleeping schedule. Have also made a note of the first prompt as well to do separately.

I’ve given up and am naming this kid Naph as well. Why? Because it’s a nice easy name for me to kidnap and gods knows Arcane played fast and loose with League lore anyway. Also I like it and it has become the default in my brain if nothing else fills the space. It can be easily subbed out if I decide on something different later.

Warnings: past-mpreg, omegaverse (I refer to the baby as pup that’s literally it), some mention of after-birth pains (nothing major just a bit tender)

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

Viktor wakes to the sound of a baby crying.

“I’ve got him, don’t get up,” Jayce says as the sleep fades from Viktor’s brain and he remembers that it is their baby that is crying not just some random abstract one. Their baby that Viktor had given birth to days prior and had finally been allowed back home that day. The doctors happy with both their progress.

The bed shifts as Jayce gets up to go to their child. Viktor pushes himself up on his arms to sit up more as he does. Wincing as his weight settles on where he’s still tender from the birth.

“I told you not to get up,” Jayce says holding their son in his arms as he looks back at Viktor. It is a good image and one Viktor could get used to seeing. Will get used to seeing, as surreal as that feels.

“And I have not gotten out of bed.” Nor will he be. Not when he has a perfectly good and willing Jayce to get things for him while he still heals from the birth. To make up for you having done all the work to this point Jayce had said and Viktor had nothing to gain from fighting him on it. “What’s the time?”

“2AM. And you can go back to sleep,” Jayce says. “He just needs a bottle.”

“I’m awake now.” Viktor had never been able to go back to sleep once he woke. There always something he’d rather be spending the time doing than tossing and turning. “I can hold him while you heat up the bottle.”

“The doctors said you need rest,” Jayce says despite it being clear he needs both hands to keep their son settled which would leave none free to prepare a bottle as well.

“I am resting!” Despite how much he misses it he still hasn’t returned to the lab since he was put on bedrest in the final trimester. Working on formulas and schematics from bed can hardly be considered work. It’s just keeping his mind occupied. “Let me hold him.”

Jayce clearly wants to argue but he relents when Viktor raises an eyebrow. Carefully handing their son over and only taking his hands away once the baby is very secure and settled.

Viktor would almost be offended at the lack of trust but he all-too-well understands the impulse. It turns out newborns are tiny and so delicate. It is almost terrifying to think about all the different ways they could accidently hurt him. It is scary to even have him in Viktor’s arms but also nerve-wracking when he is not within easy reach.

“I’ll be right back,” Jayce promises, only taking his eyes off them when he physically leaves the room.

Viktor once again examines his son while he waits. He had hoped their child would have taken a little more after both of them rather than looking mostly like Viktor but it is still impressive to think mere days ago Naph was still growing inside him and now the boy is alive and experiencing the world, frowning up at Viktor as his tongue peaks out between tiny lips, followed by a small cry of impatience.

“Not much longer,” Viktor promises. If his milk had come in the wait wouldn’t have to be this long. But it is useful to know that Jayce can look after their son entirely on his own if needed.

Naph is still far too young to actually understand what Viktor is saying. Another louder cry being made as Jayce hurries back into the room.

“No, no, don’t cry, I got it,” Jayce rambles, sliding into bed beside Viktor, warm bottle in hand. He pauses when Viktor holds their child back out to him. “Uh-“

“You said you were feeding him, no?” Viktor has no problems with doing it as well but Jayce likes to feel useful. And Viktor likes to watch him with their son.

“Right, of course,” Jayce recovers quickly. Carefully taking their son back into his arms, offering him the bottle. It only takes two passes of the teat for the tiny mouth to open to let it pass.

“He is hungry,” Jayce says as their son makes quick work of the bottle.

“I suppose it was a big day for him.” For Viktor and Jayce they came home but all their son knew until the day before was the hospital.

“It was,” Jayce agrees, shifting slightly to allow Viktor to lean in closer and push the fabric from their son’s onesie down from where it had crept up to his mouth. “But we can all rest for now.”

Viktor gives a hum of agreement despite how he already itches to get back to the lab.

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

Jayce wakes to find himself alone in the bed.

It isn’t that unusual. Neither he nor Viktor can be said to have a normal sleeping schedule even before their pup was born. But Jayce still never likes it when he reaches out for his partner only to find cold bedsheets.

He pulls himself out of bed and shuffles to the main living area. There’s no point trying to get back to sleep anyway and he might as well check on Naph to make sure he hasn’t woken in the night.

Viktor had apparently had the same thought whenever he had gotten up. He stands in front of the blackboard they had set up so they can make any changes to their equations even when not in the lab, a piece of chalk balanced in the fingers of the hand resting on his cane as the other holds their son steady where he is swaddled against Viktor’s chest. A slight bounce with every move clearly to keep the pup settled.

“I put coffee on,” Viktor says, not even turning around to acknowledge Jayce. Not that Jayce wants him to – he’s perfectly happy just watching his partner and their child together.

“Thanks.” There’s an almost empty baby bottle next to the coffeepot. It’s cold to the touch so Jayce rinses it out in the sink and puts it to the side to be sanitized with the others. He makes Viktor a cup of coffee as well as his own. “Couldn’t get him to go back to sleep?”

“He doesn’t want to be put down,” Viktor says, looking away from their life’s work to their son. “Clingy. Like his father.”

Jayce can hardly blame his son for that – he wants to cling to Viktor too at times.

“I can take him if you need to write,” Jayce says as he brings Viktor’s coffee over to him. Tapping his partner on the arm with it before placing it down on the table they keep next to the blackboard almost exclusively for coffee. He picks up the old empty one and takes it back to the sink.

“It is fine,” Viktor says with a small shake of his head, his eyes flitting back to the blackboard. “I have nothing new to add to it anyway.”

Jayce would suggest Viktor go back to bed then but he knows his partner would have as much a chance of going back to sleep as he would.

Instead he joins Viktor at the blackboard. Close enough that Viktor can shuffle over and lean against him while they both try and figures out how the equations fit together and wait for the morning sun.

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

“Jayce!” Viktor calls because he is in the middle of wiring up the controls for the latest iteration of Hexgates and their son is crying. Jayce is just doing some paperwork, necessary, yes, but nowhere near as dangerous to be walked away from in the middle of.

“Huh?” Jayce asks as he sticks his head into the room before realizing why he was called. “Right. On it.”

“Up we go,” Jayce says as he picks their son up from the cot they keep in the lab for him to sleep in while they work. Out of the corner of his eye Viktor watches his partner hold their son high to sniff at his backside. “Nope. Must be hungry.”

Viktor returns his attention back fully to his work as Jayce carries their son into the kitchenette of the lab to heat up a bottle for him. He’s still at it when he two return, their son still in Jayce’s arms as he comes to watch over Viktor’s shoulder.

“How are you going?”

“Nearly finished.” The wiring had nearly taken him all day but it should be worth it.

“And then we can test it?” Jayce asks despite the fact he should already know the answer.

“Yes. They should lead to a less, uh, jolty experience when the jump is made.”

Jayce doesn’t respond, but Viktor can hear him pace around the lab no doubt bouncing their child in his arms as he does to keep the boy settled and not distracting Viktor’s work.

Viktor doesn’t alert his partner to the fact once he finishes. Instead watching the two of them for the minute it takes Jayce to notice himself. He had been told by many how lucky he was to have Jayce as the father of his child and, really, he cannot argue it.

[inanerial]

How many Kryn souls will be born in the Empire?

A riddle

Sometimes you're trying to write a character becoming obsessed with a calculation problem and you accidentally face-plant into being obsessed yourself. That being said, the fanfic in question is Temporal Shunt, so if you want to have a look, have fun!

The brain teaser in question is: How many children will be born outside the Dynasty with Kryn/Dynasty souls because of Essek's theft and where will these souls be born?

First of all, it's necessary to preface this strange brain teaser with the fact all my calculations here are based on some profoundly huge assumptions.

1) Presuming a child is born within range of either of the beacons stolen and taken to the Empire, there is a corresponding soul available in the beacon. This treats each beacon's souls as unlimited as far as this calculation is concerned. We have, as far as I can tell, no idea how many souls are in each of the beacons Essek stole, nor does he seem to know how many souls are in a beacon or if souls can cross between beacons through some sort of shared planar space. Ultimately, the floor of this calculation is 0, if somehow both beacons were empty.

2) A single beacon can cover the full area of Rexxentrum and/or Zadash in its radius. I cannot find records of their throw, but given that the Dynasty only has a few and they strive to have most consecuted souls within a beacon's radius, I think we can assume around a beacon per city?

3) The beacons cannot emit souls from inside the lead box & bag of holding.

4) Halfling and Human birthrates are approximately the same. Human birthrates in this period are approximately the current US birthrate (12 per 1,000 people per year). That assumption, I know is massive, because on the one hand, more agrarian society and D&D ye olde times. On the other hand, birth control potions?! I don't know how to handle all that, so I stuck to 12 per 1,000 and let the extra month's (11 months in the Exandrian year vs 12 in an Earth year) be the allowance for the more agrarian society.

Even given all these assumptions, these calculations end up being a massive shrug, because we don't have an actual date on which Essek gave the beacons. We have him saying it had been three years since the "start of the conspiracy" (see "Dark Waters" (2x98) at 16:58), but I would argue that context clues indicate that's when they started corresponding, not when Essek handed over the beacons. That means Essek really could have handed over the beacons at almost any point between Thunsheer 833 PD (3 years before when he says that, in Thunsheer 836 PD). For the sake of all of our sanity, I have set bounds of Thunsheer 834 PD as the earliest time Essek might have handed over the beacons (1 year of correspondence) and Thunsheer 835 PD (2 years of correspondence) as the latest time. The early bound is based on the idea that it would likely take a reasonable amount of time for the Assembly to convince him to commit massive treason. The later bound is a marker of pure convenience for me.

That gives us the rough time span of:

Now, given that gnarly chunk of assumptions, we have another mystery to tackle. Where was the Assembly keeping the beacons? For lack of a better argument (though feel free to make one, if you're feeling so inspired) I'm going to assume the Nein's beacon/Zadash Beacon is in Zadash from the time it is stolen up until it comes into the Nein's possession. The other beacon is even more uncertain. We know it was in Felderwin for some span of time, so I've made the executive decision to assume it was in Rexxentrum briefly, then Felderwin for most of the time, then back to Rexxentrum shortly before Yeza's shop was ruined. I am also assuming the Nein discovered the ruin of Yeza's shop within a week or two of the attack.

Let's make it even crazier! When I went into this calculation fugue state, I was particularly interested in whether or not the Nein spread souls all over the Empire at large, the Clovis Concord, and beyond as they went on their pre-Dynasty adventures and took the beacon out to get Fragments of Possibility. I therefore made the assumption that getting a fragment takes around 1 minute, although as you will see, the exact timeframe, short of hours, does not really matter. I also assume that except for when Caleb just like... took a nap with the beacon in Zadash, they replaced the beacon in the lead box and their bag as soon as they received the fragment.

That gives us, thanks to CritRoleStats and Critical Role Linkable Transcripts for beacon viewing timestamps and Explorer's Guide to Wildemount for the city populations:

So, for poor Essek's conscience, that's somewhere between 0-168 children in Felderwin, 0-1,119 children in Rexxentrum, and 0-1,362 children in Zadash. Of course, families may move, so there's no guarantee those children will still be in each of those places when they experience anamnesis, but according to my incredibly slushy math, there will likely be a Nogvurut Situation in around 13 years in Felderwin, Rexxentrum, and Zadash.

Well, that's all I've got. The assumptions are messy, the calculations are rough, and the results are uncertain, but hey, when you're given such a fun riddle... how can you not?

[nightlark100]

Consequences (Pt 6)

It's so dreadfully dull in the Black and White and we've been here so long. All we can do is play our games by ourselves. But this game is special. We all wanted to play with our new fwendy-wends after Gracie took away our fun. We worked together to make a brand new game!

The one in green, Wiggly Peter told himself, moved forward without seeming to walk at all.

And you are all going to play it with us

"N...No"

Wiggly stood in front of Peter. Despite his human form being slightly shorter than him, the eldritch god still seemed to loom over him.

No? That's a naughty word Petey. 

He ran his fingers across the human's cheek, sending a shudder through the boy at the strangely clammy sensation. Wiggly's glowing green eyes bored into him, penetrating his brain and drawing forth every fear, every nightmare, every bad memory. Peter began to tremble, fixed to his spot like he was frozen.

"Leave him alone!" Stephanie shouted, rushing to Pete's side and pulling him against her. The second the eye contact was broken, Peter's body slumped like his strings had been cut and he buried his face against Steph's chest. The pair of them slipped to the floor, Steph rocking her boyfriend gently as he shook in her arms.

This is taking too long. I'm tired of hearing the infants squawk. These conversations are tedious and only give them the illusion of choice.

I suppose absorbing their minds would have been better? Face it Pokey, you're not the most innovative with your ideas.

I'm simply suggesting that perhaps one of the prophets could have done this part. My Paul is always so helpful.

Your Paul isn't even yours in their timeline.

From behind the Lords, the figure stepped forward and came into view. It was the man from earlier, the one who'd called himself Uncle Wiley. As the lords bickered, he crossed to stand in front of the mortal trio and knelt down to their height.

"Here's the deal kiddies, that baby inside little Gracie there is going to bring about a new world once its born. You are going to ensure that happens. Gracie is going to carry the baby to term and when its born, sweet Stephanie is going to become its prophet. Until then, you're gonna keep her safe and ensure no one makes her leave Hatchetfield."

"Why would we agree to that?"

"Well if Gracie doesn't do what she's supposed to, that hunger she's feeling will only grow. And grow. And grow. Until there's nothing left but a vast devouring pit inside of her that is never full."

Grace whimpered. Wiley laughed.

"I hate to think what will happen to all those dirty dudes without someone to keep her in check... or did you think your friend Jason just left school after his 'date' with her?"

"Grace..." Steph whispered.

"I couldn't help it! It hurt so badly!"

"Exactly. And it's only going to get worse without help. And as for you Steph-a-nie, your choice was taken before you were even born. Haven't you wondered why your father was so reluctant to pick up the black book again? Or why the Lords didn't tell Peter to shoot you that night? They already own your soul"

"No..."

"Oh yes. In fact, I'd say the only one around here who has any kind of choice is Petey pie."

Peter lifted his head from where it was cradled against Steph's chest.

"Me?"

"Yes. You see, they want Steph to be their prophet. Their mouth piece to the masses. But they want you to be their disciple. The ones who work behind the scenes. But unlike Steph and Grace, you can say no. You just won't like what will happen."

The Lords had fallen silent and Wiley, realising their focus was on the group once more, got to his feet and retreated, bowing his head as he passed Wiggly.

"I have a choice?" Peter asked, wary of a trick.

Oh yes Petey. You see my brother, Tinky, just loves your family. He likes to collect them, especially his little Ted. All the Teddy-Bears in all the timelines go into his toy box. And he really wants to put some Petey-Pies in there too, that's why he was so so sad when you didn't die like you were supposed to

The yellow one, Tinky, eyed Peter with undisguised desire, fiddling with the glowing box in his hands.

I want the whole set to play with!

I know Tinky. Hush. If you say no to us Peter, you get to go back to your life. It won't have Steph-A-nie in it anymore of course. And when you die, Tinky will scoop up your soul and put you in his box with your brother and play with you until you are broken and twisted and then he will do it all over again for the rest of time.

Wiggly smirked, the glow in his eyes darkening from neon to deep emerald.

But if you say yes, I won't let that happen.

What?! NO! Petey is mine! Just like my Teddy-Bear! He belongs to me!

Wiggly scowled but ignored his brother's outburst and drifted closer to Peter, brushing his fingers over his hair like he had done that night.

Last time you were here, I was a little bit naughty. I stole you from Tinky. I put my mark on you.

WIGGLY!

Shut up Tinky. This is what you get for not bothering to mark him yourself. If you insist on letting your pets roam around without collars, you can't complain when someone else picks them up. I thought you learned that lesson after what happened with that secretary.

You promised you wouldn't talk about that.

I liked that one! Teddy was so funny when he barked!

It was not funny. She broke him before I could...

I don't know why you're complaining. She got one of my Paul's as well.

But you don't care what they're like when you take them. They can be broken or fixed and you just wipe them out with your stupid songs

ENOUGH

The humans flinched at the sudden shout which seemed to come from all directions, impossibly loud. Once he was sure his siblings were significantly cowed (even though Tinky was still pouting at the loss of a Spankoffski), Wiggly fixed his attention on Peter once more.

This is the offer. Stand beside your friends as a disciple, protect them from harm and you will serve for eternity. Or abandon them and live a short and meaningless life like little Ruth and Richie did, before your soul is ripped apart across time and space. That is your choice Peter.

And with that, the gym was empty and silent.

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

I have no idea if anyone's reading this, but if you are I hope that the Lords were okay in their depiction. And that you're having a nice day :)

Consequences (pt1)

In which the Lords in Black aren't fully satisfied with Grace's sacrifice (or, the pitfalls of an abstinence only sex education)

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

She hadn't wanted to kill them, Grace thought numbly as she stared down at her dirt streaked hands, unable to shake the image of her latest victims from her mind. Yes, she believed that the behaviour she'd witnessed from the young couple, drunk and making out in the park, was dirty and perverse but she didn't want to kill them. And yet when she had gotten near, it was as though she was seized by a terrible hunger and she just couldn't stop herself.

She slipped to the ground, resting her head against the side of her bed and felt tears burning her eyes. It had been a few months since everything with Max... since she had given in to the primal temptations and sacrificed her chastity to send him to hell. She should feel... something. Relief? But her insides felt like they were rotting. She'd done so many terrible things and she didn't even have her unwavering faith to fall back on anymore, not after what she'd seen in the school gym. She didn't know if the colourful figures had been demons or if they truly were gods but it felt like jagged claws had slashed apart the fabric of her soul, leaving jagged doubts behind. Doubts and hunger.

At first she'd been able to ignore it but it had gotten stronger. It would rise in waves, crescendoing down onto her when they peaked and leaving her scrabbling for purchase as her mind crumbled.

Even the brief moments of peace she usually got between the waves had been lost to her now as she found herself battling daily with nausea, sometimes barely making it from her bed to the bathroom in time. She had tried to hide it as best she could but she knew her parents were concerned, had heard them whispering while she lingered in doorways. If it continued much longer they'd want to take her to the doctor, but she knew medicine couldn't help her. Her soul was sick, that was the cause. She would just have to pray harder. Maybe she could ask Stephie and Petey for help? Surely her friends would agree to pray with her when they saw how bad things had gotten.

Struggling to her feet, feeling her stomach twist painfully as she did so, she retrieved her phone from her bedside and sent Steph a text asking to meet up.

Her friends would help. They had to.

[hydr0phius]

If the Pantorans have Australian accents and Thrawn is often mistaken for a Pantoran, does this mean he attempts an Aussie accent if he ever decides to play into that assumption?

[rayneishere]

thinking about ofmd s2 but in the context of curtwen? but specifically these quotes?

“i love you.”

“you can’t say that to me.”

“i love everything about you, and you don’t have to say it back.”

“i wasn’t going to.”

like… yk! post-fall type conversation i think. it’ll forever be curtwen to me

[justablah56]

Hey Aether, use this as your vessel to infodump about project hail Mary :]

HEHEHEHEHHEE YAY OK TY AZ .

obv spoilers for phm bcs . it is nearly impossible to talk about this book without spoiling things <3

ok this is a very complicated book to explain , bcs not only is it a *very* well thought out SCIENCE fiction book , but it also is an amnesia story , so it's telling both the present time story , as well as the story just before this one that is this guy slowly remembering things . so eem . it's hard .

if you have specific questions (🥺👁️👁️) abt things I gotchu but this is just going to be a very very long infodump about just like . the first HALF of the book . bcs otherwise it will be even longer <3

anyways , basically , in the vaguely near future , scientists find out that there are alien microorganisms (astrophage) that are sapping energy away from the sun . enough that like . half of humanity is going to be dead within the next 20 years . they find out a lot of stuff , they find these little things all over space that are just eating star energy p much . but then they discover that this other star like 12 light years away *should* be getting eaten by the astrophage , *isn't* . so they were like ok , the whole planet is working together now bcs otherwise we will die , let's make a ship and send some people over there to see whats up . and our main character (Ryland Grace) is one of the MAIN main scientists working on this whole problem , as well as one of the three people they sent up , AND the only one of the three who survived the coma trip there . all this is stuff we find out via Ryland's memory flashes within the first couple chapters lmao .

in current time , our guy wakes up from his 4-ish year long coma , remembering nothing about himself or why he's here . eventually he figures out he's on a space ship and he's supposed to figure out why this star isn't dying even tho there's astrophage supposedly there to eat it . AND THEN . he's looking at the science stuff . and he sees . a spaceship . an intelligent alien made spaceship . and that's where my most favoritest guy in the whole wide world is <3 anyways theres a whole stretch of time that is just ryland and this alien trying to communicate w each other , they make a tunnel and stuff between their ships but with a clear wall between their two sides bcs the alien , my bestest guy Rocky , lives in an atmosphere that is not only like 30x as heavy as earths , but is also . ammonia . Rocky is this little labrador sized spider thing , he's got 5 legs/arms all coming out of a rocky lookin "body" and he "talks" kinda similar to like , whales , and he just makes notes and chords in different ways that are his words . anyways there's a whole thing about them learning to communicate with each other , neither of them can physically speak in the others language but they p much memorize the other's language and then they can just speak to each other still in their languages , but they understand what the other person is saying , and they figure out that they're both here to figure out what's up with this sun not dying and how can we use that information to make OUR sun not die . and they are bestest friends in the whole wide world btw . they are a platonic love story to me ,, eventually Ryland finds out that the rest of Rocky's crew ALSO died , and so they're both just alone out here trying to save their entire species but now they can do it together !!!! and so they spend the majority of the book doing scientific shenanigans and other things to figure stuff out and I won't go super into all that but oh my god it's so cool ouqunfmmec anyways .

the main thing that I've been going insane about is the other of people Ryland was supposed to be on this mission with , Yáo and Ilyukhina . the plan was that the three of them would be put into comas for the trip up , and then they'd wake up once they got there and solve the problem and yay . but . when Ryland wakes up , both of them are dead in their coma bed things , and have been for a *long* time . the three of them had some special gene that made it so theyd be okay in a coma , but for the other two , smthin else went wrong , and there's no medical personnel to deal w that , and so they both died bcs the robot that was supposed to keep them alive wasn't programmed to deal with much else outside of just . keep them alive and healthy throughout the coma . anyways . keeping in mind , Ryland doesn't remember anything . he doesn't remember who these people are , or why they're there with him . but while he's by himself random things will make him remember little things about them and even though he doesn't *actually* remember them at all , every time he thinks about them he just starts *crying* . I have so many screenshots of these moments asriel . they kill me . those were his crew mates . he spent most of his last few years on earth with these people . they were like . his only friends . they were his family . even if he doesn't remember them . he misses them . it literally kills me .

look at this shit . literally devastating . what the fuck . they really just did that . and these are just the most recent ones that I screenshotted . screaming and crying and wailing about them . and he really does just suppress all actual memories about them until maybe the last third or fourth of the book . so for the majority of the book we the readers don't get to know much about them other their their names , their races , and very basic characteristics . like it's literally just oh that's Yáo . stoic Chinese military guy and that's Ilyukhina . adhd kinda crazy Russian girl . and that's it . for most of the book . bcs my bbg Ryland Grace is the king of denial and simply does not want to think about them because it will break him . and it does .

ok anyways . there's an infodump for you lmao cbnejcmemcn this book makes me sick <3

[askyofexplodingstars]

One moonlit night, you're in the middle of preparing a little bedtime snack, when you get a surprise visit from a certain friend of yours…

(Sebastian x reader)

[la-galaxie-langblr]

what is going on w my brain

[eastoncowan]

posting that primer was like baring my soul to the internet. those 1600 words were a tiny glimpse into the constant thoughts swirling around in my head and there will almost certainly be a part 2 and more if need be.

[leviiackrman]

Ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between, I can wholeheartedly confirm that:

Margot Durand in fact, has a happy ending.

[kavehater]

I wish I could inject pasilyo into my brain so I can have permanent happiness

[heliotroping]

I love your fics btw, I think I've read most of them and theyre all very good.

Anyways, in you must be a lucky one, why biting? What inspired you?

aw thank you so much!! hmm the biting just kind of?? came up naturally? lol. i had the very beginnings of the first chapter written for a while and then returned to it and added the first bite on a whim and just sorta kept going with it! i like how it allows them both to take on a different role than they’re used to, lottie who’s very much a masochist in other areas of life and nat who imo wouldn’t typically gravitate towards something that’s so inherently vulnerable/exposing. It also uncomfortably intersects with the whole cannibalism thing in a way that helped a lot in the beginning as a segue into nat processing that part of being stranded. this makes it sound like its all very based in story structure and metaphor but also im just kind of a sucker for homoerotic biting soooo. that may or may not have been another one of my main inspirations lmao.