#queueing this to post a couple times over the next few days

[bertiblogxiv]

Berti is ready for Dawntrail!

I have the pre-order early access and will be posting about DT starting on the 28th. All posts will be tagged with #dawntrailspoilers for blocking and any particularly spicy spoilers will be under a read more.

Still, if you want to unfollow, I totally get it. :)

So excited for the launch!

[forgeofthenine]

Omg in the last few posts you were talking about heat as in temperature but my brain registered it as something COMPLETELY different and it got me thinking…

What if tieflings had some kind of a heat cycle and they get extra sensitive and desperate because of it?? I can imagine Zevlor and Rolan being super embarrassed or nervous to bring it up, maybe Dammon’s more chill about it but still extra needy

So, this has absolutely been a passing thought in my mind and as soon as this request came in I knew I just had to push it to the front of my request queue, purely for my own mental health lol

Gotta admit, I'm a fan of omegaverse dynamics and I actually looked a little into irl animal biology and mating behaviour to get a better feel for what I think tieflings would be the most like. So this has both general headcanons and some NSFW headcanons for the individual bachelors

You probably didn't expect quite this much (over a thousand words of tief content) when requesting but this had me in a chokehold, I hope everyone enjoys <3

TW: NSFW under the cut, very heavy breeding kink, overstimulation, alpha/omega adjacent dynamics

Tiefling NSFW heat and rut headcanons

General

So, I feel like once all tiefs reach sexual maturity they'll start to either have heats or ruts, depending on their biology

Anyone with female biology will have a heat, and I feel like they'd have heats similar to cats but with a slightly longer time between heats

So generally they'd have a heat every two to three months or so unless they're pregnant or have other health issues

For the ones with male biology they'd definitely have a rut

They'd follow similar patterns to the women, but it's not unusual for some tieflings to have longer stretches between their ruts if they don't have a partner

A single tiefling that isn't particularly sexually active might only go into rut once or twice a year

I do think a male tiefling could prematurely go into rut if exposed to a females heat, and couples that have been together for a while will sync up

They have pretty typical heat and rut behaviours with nesting, possessiveness, and a pretty undeniable breeding kink

Nesting, possessiveness, and general mood shifts tend to start setting in during pre-heats and pre-ruts

Pre-heats and pre-ruts can last two to five days, and a full heat and rut can last anywhere from two days to a full week depending on the individual

In saying that, having a partner can definitely shorten both heats and ruts, so single tieflings working through things by themselves will have longer heats or ruts

Heats and ruts can also become more painful the longer they go on without the relief of a sexual partner

Tieflings can tell when others are in heat and rut mostly through pheromones, but a female tieflings tail will also involuntarily lift when she's in pre-heat/heat and around a male

I wonder if I should go so far as to headcanon that they have knots, I did already give them all ridged dicks

Dammon

If you and Dammon aren't dating then he'll be much more shy about his ruts

He basically disappears from his forge and the public for a few days and then comes back as if nothing happened

Once you start dating him is when you find out why he pulls the disappearing act

Dammon is actually very open about it now you're both together and have already been intimate

Blushes slightly while trying to explain some of the more physical, primal aspects

Would flush even more if you tell him you find the whole thing incredibly attractive

The next time he has his rut, you're the only person allowed to see him, and he really is a sight

Naked and tangled in his sheets, all flushed and tense, undeniably hard as he palms himself while looking over at you

Even the way he strips you of your clothing is different, he just about rips it off you as he kisses and nips down your neck and chest

While Dammon is usually one to take his time with making you feel good when he's in rut the only thing on his mind is getting to cum

Though even in his hazy mind frame he still makes sure you're comfortable the whole time

Even a near sex crazed and highly hormonal Dammon is still a very caring partner

You know he's going to bend you in half as he fucks you, he just loves how good you look underneath him like that

Breeding kink go brrrr

This man always fucks like he's trying to breed you but it's off the charts when he's in rut

I hope you're ready to be fucked within an inch of your life because his refractory period ceases to exist

Absolutely watches as he pulls out of you and some of him cum leaks out because he's stuffed you so full

Dammon praises you so well too, you can not shut up this man and his dirty talk

"That's it gorgeous, you take my cock so well."

"You gonna make me a daddy, darling? 'm gonna knock you up, full you up with my cum."

Once his rut dies down enough, he'll scoop you up for a bath

There is no way you could stand after the way this man just wrecked you-

Dammon takes very good care of you, and then you do it all again the next day

Zevlor

Whether you're dating Zevlor or not, he's your personal wealth of knowledge on everything tiefling

So what do you do when a book you read mentions 'the times of year and conditions unique to tieflings' and doesn't explain it?

You go and find your favourite paladin

Zevlor is so embarrassed, dating or not, explaining to you how tiefling heats and ruts work

Can't even keep his eyes on you

When you two are dating and you realise you didn't see him at all yesterday, it's time to go hunting for the man

You have an idea of what might be going on but nothing prepares you for what you find

Much like Dammon, you find him tangled in his bed sheets desperately trying to get himself off

He lets out the sexiest groan when he sees you standing there

He's the gentlest of the three while working through his rut

Even then, Zevlor is noticeably rougher with you than usual

Has you in a missionary position, his whole body pressed to yours as he pants in your ear and thrusts into you

Zevlor can't keep his hands off you when he's in rut, they're all over your hips and chest and giving light tugs to your hair

He gives into the primal need to mark you too, it's the only time he'll give you hickeys

Breeding kink: the sequel

Absolutely tells you he's going to breed you, and fucks you like he means it

Doesn't even think as he uses his hands and tail to spread your legs so he can fuck you deeper

Zevlor loves to look at the way you tremble every time he fills you with cum, using his fingers to help you get off at the same time

Even while he's trying to find his own relief, he makes sure to make you cum so many times you end up overstimulated and about to cry from the pleasure

Definitely has you cockwarm him as the two of rest, the thought of you keeping his seed so deep in you until it takes just gets him going again

You'll know he's ready for another round when Zevlor starts grinding himself into you again

When the worst of his rut is over he gives you the best massages

Apologises so profusely too the first few times you help him through his rut, even if you tell him how much you like it

Rolan

There is no way Rolan is ever telling you anything about heats and ruts

Absolutely forbidd his siblings from mentioning it too, he's just way too embarrassed for you to know

Even when you guys are dating he just locks himself away in his tower for a week while he works through it and recovers

This man will not tell you anything

And then he forgets to lock the door

As soon as you open it you're met with the sight of a whiney, teary eyed Rolan trying to get off by grinding against a pillow in desperation

Unlike with the other two, there's no clear 'top' when you're with Rolan during his rut

He loves having you ride him until he sees stars just as much as he wants to bend you over his desk until everyone else in Ramaziths tower can hear you scream

Rolan loves hearing you when he's in rut

Yell his name, tell him that you belong to him, tell him how good he fucks you, say he looks so pretty when you ride him-

He loves all of it so much

He's also the one that bites you the hardest, expect him to draw at least a little bit of blood by accident

Breeding kink: the trilogy

Rolan isn't letting you leave the room unless he's knocked you up

Absolutely puts a fertility spell on you by brushing his hand over your lower belly and murmuring the words

He also refuses to pull out unless it's to change positions, and if any cum leaks out of you he'll push it back in with his fingers

Overstimulation is the name of the game with Rolan, he wants you both overstimulated and crying and completely fucked out

This man believes in equality and we love him for it

The youngest of the tiefling bachelors and definitely the most pent up, it'll take all day before he calms down enough for the two of you to rest

When things do calm down, after he makes sure you're both clean and fed, Rolan wraps you up with him in his bed and will read to you

It's his own personal flavour of aftercare, cuddling and reading your favourite book as he makes sure you're comfortable and happy

And it all starts over when you wake up the next morning with him hard as a rock against your ass

[soaps-mohawk]

I'm going to be honest

I'm having a genuinely hard time making this post. I've been fighting with it for a couple weeks now, but I think it's time I finally make it.

I'm not having fun on this blog anymore.

It sounds bad, but honestly, it kind of is.

I think a lot of it started from the very beginning with the precedence and expectations I put on myself. I've always tried to respond to every comment I get. Even from the beginning. It's just a polite thing to do since those who leave comments took the time to write out what they think of my fic, even if it's just a keysmash. I've always felt the need to thank those who leave comments or reblog my writing or (now that tumblr has it) replied to my fics. It worked fine before because none of my fics were particularly popular. Even my most popular fic (at that time) didn't get as much attention as CRCB has. I've never had a "big blog" before, nor a fic as popular as CRCB has gotten.

It was fine at first, responding to everyone, engaging with everyone. I was riding that high of omg so many people are reading and enjoying my fic! I've never had anything quite like this before.

Now...it just feels more like a chore. I set this precedence on this blog that I respond to everyone and I know a lot of people have said that they're surprised I responded to them and to everyone, and now I'm getting why a lot of writers don't. I'm exhausted. I feel like I've just been robotically saying the same thing over and over trying to respond to people now. I used to love seeing asks in my inbox and reblogs and replies but now? All I feel is dread because I have to respond to all of those.

Turning anon off was a big help. It lessened the sheer volume of asks I was getting a day. And while I do feel bad for all of my anons who prefer to stay anons, with everything that happened (the multiple incidents) with anon that kind of started to suck the joy out of everything. That paired with the obsessive need to constantly have my inbox cleared and make sure everyone gets a response...I can understand now too why big blogs will have 200+ asks in their inbox. It's hard and it's exhausting and I'm burning out.

First it was the fic that was burning me out. Things have gone on far longer than I planned and I just wasn't prepared for this fic to go on and for a while there it was dragging. I'll admit that. If I could go back, I'd speed up a few things, but it's done, it's posted there's no going back. I kind of hoped I would have the mental capacity to upload more than once a week too, but I just couldn't. I still can't.

I've come to dread posting chapters because I know I'm going to have to reply and respond to everyone. The only thing keeping me posting is the fact that we're in the part of the story I've been excited about since the beginning and also because I keep leaving everyone on cliffhangers and I love torturing y'all with all of them.

So that being said, this is in no way to shame anyone for interacting with me, anyone leaving comments or replies or sending asks. Don't feel bad about doing it please. I appreciate all of you that have engaged with me and it really means so much to me. Honestly, earlier this year, if I didn't have this fic and everyone on this blog, I might not have made it to now. It's been a really rough year and it's still going to be into next year. It's just getting to the point where I need a break.

I've needed a break for a long time. I thought taking days off the blog would help, and it did for a couple of weeks, but now even on the days I'm supposed to be on the blog and engaging, I just find myself queueing stuff up and just being offline most of the day still.

I'm tired. That's the best reason I can give. I'm tired and burned out on life and I'm tired and burned out on this blog.

So...I think I need a break. I need to not keep responding to every single reply and reblog every chapter. I need to not force myself to answer every ask right away, no matter how much I want to. I feel bad, but I know everyone would rather have me here and enjoying the blog than forcing myself to interact to the point where I'm dreading it and just robotically repeating myself over and over with every reply and answer and comment.

I won't be pausing the fic, I won't be not uploading. I'll still be posting chapters, I just might not be interacting as much as I have been. It's just putting such a mental strain on me still, even with anon off, even with days off. And with things getting busier for me, it's going to be too much to try and deal with irl stuff and write and try to be super active on the blog. There's going to come a point where I have to sacrifice the writing or the blog and I'd rather sacrifice the blog to keep myself sane, and also to keep trying to finally get this fic done. I love this fic, don't get me wrong, but I'm just burning out.

I'm already burned out in a lot of ways.

I was planning kinktober this year but honestly I'm considering not doing it because I know interaction is going to be insane and it's going to be a lot to keep up on. Plus trying to write that many fics is hard and I'm not sure I have the ability to do it. I have a few done but now I'm just like...is that something I want to do on top of irl stuff and CRCB.

There's just no joy in it anymore. It's not anyone's fault but mine. I put the pressure on myself, I held myself to that standard for this long despite the fact I knew it was draining me. I've tried to push through when I should have prioritized myself. I feel so guilty not responding to everyone. I feel so guilty being a day or two late responding to everyone.

I want to be here and interacting and responding to things but I just can't bring myself to anymore. It's no one's fault, and this is not a drag on anyone, or an attempt to make anyone feel bad or guilty for interacting or sending asks or anything. I'm just airing out the truth and saying what I need to say because I feel like I've been so robotic and lifeless with my responses these last couple weeks and I feel like I need to explain why. It's nothing anyone has done. It's my fault. It's 100% my fault.

Things have just gotten to be too much and it's my fault for forcing myself to be so active. The social battery has dropped into the negatives. I'm not a social person. I can only handle so much interaction and I've pushed so far beyond that, that things have gotten to this point. I want to be here and I want to have fun and I want to use this as an escape but I just don't feel that way about it anymore. It's a chore for me, a job, something I feel like I have to do and it's my fault that I feel that way. It's my own standards and expectations I set on myself, and my expectations on what I think my followers want and deserve and now I feel like I've gone on too long like this that I can't change things without hurting anyone's feelings. I don't want people to think I'm ignoring them in favor of others because I know there's writers out there that do that. They only respond to a certain group and ignore others that comment and reblog. I don't want to make anyone feel like I'm doing that to them and that's now led me to here.

I'm forcing it and I'm tired.

It's been hard these last few weeks. The life has just been draining and draining continuously. The joy and the love I have for this blog and my followers and the interactions and the fic. The last anon bullshit that happened was just kind of the last nail in the coffin so to speak. The straw that broke the camel's back. Things stopped being fun. It made me feel bad (and not in the guilty way, though that was a part of it) and I'm honestly just over it. I'm over the blog, I'm over interacting, I'm over life at this point. August is a hard month for me and every year it seems to get worse and worse. A lot of it is unrelated to anything online and I was going to make a post about it but honestly I just don't want to. Those that know, know. Those that don't...it doesn't matter.

I'm getting annoyed by the blog, I'm getting annoyed every time I look in my notifications and see an ask or a reply or a comment. I'm getting annoyed by some of my followers and that's not fair to you. Everyone always talks about how nice and kind and patient I am when I'm really not. I'm not the person I present myself to be on this blog, the way I mask myself so I can present myself as being a normal, kind human being. The mask is coming off because I'm so tired I can't keep it up anymore. It's happening here and it's happening in real life. I'm tired and I'm frustrated and I'm angry at a lot of things and the last thing I want is to start taking it out on my followers. You don't deserve that, especially when it's not your fault, it's nothing any of you have done. It's all me.

It's not you, it's me.

So for the sake of not burning this whole thing to the ground, I'm going to take a break. I'm not replying to everyone, I'm not responding to every reblog, I won't reply to every ask I get right away, if at all because sometimes I just don't have anything to say in response and I need to learn that's okay. It's nothing against you. It's not aimed at anyone specifically, I'm just trying to put myself first and stop things from escalating. I need a break and I'm going to do something selfish and I'm going to take it.

Don't apologize because it's not your fault. Don't apologize because you think you might have contributed to this because you didn't. It is no one's fault but my own.

I'm the one that needs to apologize to all of you because I've just not been myself because I've been forcing myself to be someone I'm not. I've been very unfair to a lot of people over the last seven months that this blog has been active and I've held a precedent that is not sustainable in the long run and made everyone believe that I was capable of maintaining that kind of interaction when I'm not.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've been putting everyone through this. I'm sorry I've been so detached and robotic and ingenuine. I'm sorry I led everyone to believe I'm someone I'm not. I'm sorry I've dragged this on this long that it's gotten to the point that I have to make this post.

I considered just disappearing but that wouldn't be fair to you either. I don't want to put you through that, so I'm pouring all of my thoughts out and making you read through this fucking novel of a post. If you've made it this far, then congrats I guess. Gold metals to you who bothered reading this far.

Anyway, all of that aside, I'll still be posting chapters. I'll have them scheduled and I'll probably come on and add links places to keep things current. I'll respond and reply and answer asks when I feel like it. You don't have to stop sending them, but just don't expect them to be responded to right away anymore. I'll probably still be here reblogging things I want and doing things when I feel like it.

I just need a few weeks to myself. Time I don't have to care about the blog at all and keeping up with it. Anon will remain off for the sake of keeping asshole trolls away, and also so I don't open tumblr and have 200 asks in my inbox after a week. Sorry to my anons but it's just the way it needs to be right now. Maybe once this break is over and I've dealt with irl stuff, I'll consider putting it back on. I just can't after everything I dealt with recently on anon.

It'll be the same on Ao3, for those that follow here and read there. Comments will probably sit for a while. They won't be answered right away anymore unless I get the energy to burn through them. Even then I won't try to answer them all at once like I did this last weekend.

I'll try to reblog something every day so y'all know I'm alright. I don't want y'all to panic and it's not fair to put you through that, especially those that might not see this or bother reading it. Those that follow simply for the fic and nothing else. I'm here, I'm just not...here.

This week's chapter is in the queue to be posted tomorrow as usual. Chapters will still come out as planned since I'm not stopping writing, just taking a break from the blog itself.

Thank you those of you who stuck through to the end here. I appreciate all of you so much. You have no idea. I'm sorry I let things get to this point and I'm sorry to anyone that I've gotten rude or snappy with because I couldn't be selfish and put myself first. I'm sorry to anyone that got a robotic, repeated response to something they were probably excited to share. I'm sorry I've been so unfair to everyone and I hope you can forgive me.

Take care and I'll talk to everyone when I have the energy to.

[httpsserene]

httpsserene’s 1K Special | Track Limits

summary: slightly less innocent, virgin!reader has had her view of pleasure shifted. her libido has increased to insane levels after she finally allowed her boyfriends to fix her…dry spell. charles and max have no issues with helping her ride out her newfound sexual appetite, and figure that she may be ready to take the next step. or, more accurately, take the next hand.

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. had the wrong date in the queue :( i apologize for this post being late! the following chapters will be posted at 12 PM EST on their release dates!

view the full track limits table of contents.

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returning the favor — 𝐜𝐥. 𝟏𝟔 & 𝐦𝐯. 𝟏 charles leclerc x fem!black!reader 4.2k words. no penetrative sex. corruption kink. handjobs. thigh riding. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. charles leclerc is a brat. orgasm denial. implied humiliation kink.

it’s laughable. you can’t believe that you almost bought a vibrator instead of telling your boyfriends that you were ready to start the sexual aspect of your relationship. actually, it kind of makes you mad—you could’ve been experiencing the most mind blowing levels of pleasure years ago, if you had just gotten over your own insecurity.

max and charles had been dating each other for a couple years before they found you. you were a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend, and they were enamored with you as soon as they were introduced. you cringe whenever they reminisce over the first time you met them—the men think it’s the cutest first meeting ever.

they met you on a yacht in monaco. an older member of the ferrari team was retiring and decided to have a relaxed celebratory brunch on a chartered yacht. charles, of course, would be attending; he’s sure he’s most likely contractually obligated to go, but he also enjoys going to these sorts of events, he flourishes and thrives in social settings. however, on this particular day, max and charles had already planned for a date. 

when charles had been forwarded the invitation from andrea (his trainer), who had texted him threats of bodily harm if he didn’t show up—he whined and groveled to max about having to reschedule their date. max had shushed charles’ dramatics, and simply pulled out his phone to show a text thread between him and brad (his trainer), who sent him the invitation to the yacht party. charles made a noise of surprise; this brunch is more relaxed than he thought. max shrugged and pressed a kiss to charles cheek–all they have to do is make an appearance, greet who needs to be greeted, congratulate who needs to be congratulated, and then they can sneak away and leave early for their date.

that was the plan. and everything seemed to be going according to the plan. they had boarded the vessel (nobody knew the rivals had come together), everyone assumed they had just arrived at the same time. they quickly congratulated the retiree, and charles separated from max to go and charm everybody on the boat, while max had gone to take advantage of the brunch spread.

the dutchman was halfway through his second plate of finger food when charles had returned to his side, bringing their trainers and a few engineers along with him. the monegasque was stealing bites of food off his plate, and max gently tapped on the face of his richard mille watch to remind charles that they needed to start wrapping up. 

except, joris had just boarded the yacht—and you were at his side.

charles choked on his bite of stolen food, and max distractedly patted his back to clear his airways. it was like time slowed down, their vision tunneled, and the noise of conversations around them quieted; at the sight of you. you were wearing this light, flowy, orange sundress that complimented your warm brown skin, accessorized with gold jewlery, a pair of heeled tan sandals, and your curly hair was free and blowing in the breeze. you kept your gaze lowered, like you were fearing making eye contact with anybody on board, and you turned to slightly hide behind joris as you frantically whispered to him.

charles and max had decided then and there; they need to know you.

you had parted from joris at the sound of someone calling for you and the sight of you walking away, broke the trance the two drivers had been under.

when charles’ friend made his way over, they were quick to interrogate him about you, and why exactly he’s never introduced you to them before. joris threatened them before he gave them permission to pursue you (not that they needed it), and refused to answer any of their questions about you. he told them to go talk to you, and warned them to be gentle with you—as you have a more shy and introverted personality. it took nearly thirty minutes for charles and max to find where you disappeared too. you were chatting to the retiree, and as soon as you wrapped up the conversation—max inserted himself in your path, and ‘accidentally’ bumped into you.

you stumbled briefly, finding yourself bumping into charles as well. you frantically apologized to the two drivers, eyes wide with embarrassment—and max and charles found themselves vehemently reassuring you that it was their fault, and that you don’t need to apologize.

once you calmed, max started to test the waters.

“it was completely my fault. i should’ve been paying more attention to where i was walking but, i got distracted—because you look too beautiful in this dress.”

your mouth parted in surprise and you giggled awkwardly, not expecting the compliment (charles had to muffle his snort, max is incredibly corny), “oh! thank you—it’s really the dress that’s beautiful.”

the monegasque stepped in, “ah, no that cannot be. the dress only compliments how pretty you are.”

you hummed, eyes flickering between the two of them nervously, and caved to their flattery.

“mmm, thank you…the orange works with my skin tone pretty well.”

“it does,” max agreed with a soft smile, “i must be your favorite driver��since, you’ve dressed in dutch orange.”

your eyes widened, as you giggled at his bold claim, laughing harder when charles’ pretends to be angry at max’s words. the couple watches as your smile shifted from something sweet, to something teasing as you fumbled over what to say in response.

“oh? well, if i did dress for my favorite driver, it would be lando norris. because, this color is more similar to papaya than your dutch orange.”

max scoffed, and charles bursted out laughing—the two of them not expecting the teasing from you, based on how joris led them to believe that you were the shyest thing to walk on earth. 

that interaction had completely cemented their urge to date you. they ended up staying at the yacht party, just talking to you the entire time, enjoying making you blush and fluster, flirting around the limits of how much affection you could take from them. they missed their dinner reservation, but found themselves taking you out to dinner somewhere near the waterfront. 

at the end of the night, you exchanged phone numbers with them and they sweetly told you that they’d reach out to you for a second date. you had made a noise of surprise, completely disbelieving that you were on a date, or that they’d want to see you again. but, charles and max were quick to make their intentions clear as they realized they may have been moving too quickly for you.

you can’t believe that was over two years ago. the boys had been so kind with working hard for your trust, and with a final conversation about how this relationship would work—you had agreed to be their girlfriend. of course, you had your stipulation of not being ready to have sex, but the boys did take that in stride and didn’t try to coerce you into changing that boundary. matter of fact, they had even offered to stop having sex between the two of them if it made you uncomfortable—which you disagreed with on the spot; they didn’t need to limit their actions with each other just because you needed extra time. 

and extra time, ended up being two years. charles and max had waited two years without complaining once, about the fact that you still weren’t ready to have sex with them. apparently, the final aspects that you needed to realize you were ready to have sex were: being unable to get yourself off for a month while they were in the midst of a triple header…and also that, you trust them with your entire soul. 

and goddamn, did their patience result in a valuable reward.

ever since max and charles had cured your dry spell by giving you the most life-changing orgasm from riding max’s thigh, you’ve been insatiable.

it’s like your horny-meter was struck by lightning and was overloaded and stuck at the highest setting—it feels like a perpetual ovulation week. it feels like you can’t look at max’s thighs without getting wet, it feels like you can’t hold charles’ hand without your knees buckling. it wasn’t like you were never horny before the thigh-riding incident (max finds the title hilarious), but to be consistently desperate—you’ve never felt like this before. it’s like the monegasque and the dutchman have awoken your sex drive and shifted it into high gear. your libido has been so insanely high that the men have pretty much offered themselves to you as free-use.

you wake up horny? choose your fighter: charles’ thigh or max’s thigh. you get turned on by charles kissing your cheek? ride his thigh. your tummy knots up when max calls you pretty girl? ride his thigh. your panties get wet when charles comes back from getting a haircut? ride his thigh. your clothes fall off when max smiles at you? ride his thigh. your brain turns to mush when charles and max make out? ride their thighs, twice.

you’ve been so pleasure-crazed that you ended up getting a friction burn from how often you were using their thighs. 

you whimpered in shame as charles rubbed aloe vera on the irritated skin between your legs.

“vior (see)?” charles said to max, who was sitting on the bed next to you holding your hand, “she has sensitive skin—we should not have let her use our thighs so often.”

“ah,” max dismissed, ignoring your mortified whine, he smirked at charles, “she’s just learned how good we can make her feel—forgive her desperation, schatje?”

charles lightly presses on the inflamed skin, and you slightly hiss in pain. he stares at max with an unimpressed expression, 

“and now feeling good too often has her feeling bad, non?”

charles resumed his gentle massage of aloe vera, as he continued to bicker with max about you, like you weren’t lying right there. mortification had the melanated skin of your cheeks flushing with a visible blush, and you muffled your embarrassed whimper into max’s thigh. the humiliation of your boyfriends discussing your barely-sex related injury as if you aren’t present should have been horny-level reduction material—but secretly, you enjoyed it; just a little bit. 

with a pained gasp, you slammed your thighs shut around charles’ hand when he passed over a more seriously-raw area of skin. his hand was forced up, and it brushed firmly against your cunt—and that previously pained gasp transformed into a moan of pleasure. the conversation around you silenced abruptly. you kept your eyes tightly shut, refusing to pull away from the safe haven of max’s thigh. you heard charles laugh disbelievingly, and with his free hand he easily pulled your thighs apart with little effort. the casual show of strength only had you getting wet. 

he made a show of flexing the hand that was entrapped between your thighs, before he dropped two of his fingers on top of your panties and guided them to circle over your clit through the thin cloth. your eyes flew open, and with a squeal your hips bucked up to chase his hand; but he was too quick, and pulled away, using that same hand to hold your hips down on the bed.

“you’re so horny that you completely forgot about the friction-burn you have on your thighs from your previously extremely horny activities,” max deadpanned, staring down at you with a blank expression.

“i can’t help it,” you murmured shyly, “sorry.”

“don’t apologize,” max stated, releasing his grasp of your hand to brush his thumb across your cheek, “nothing’s touching your cunt for a week.”

“huh? WHAT? why? no—why not?” you blurted out in confusion, ignoring charles’ snort.

“liefje—you could barely handle charles rubbing the gel into your skin; you are too sore and inflamed. no pillows, no hands, no thighs.”

you humphed, knowing max is right, but not wanting to admit it. 

“that’s torture! i just started getting to experience real pleasure and now i can’t even cum for a week?!” you whined up at max with pleading eyes.

“you went without using our thighs for two years—you can handle a week, mon coeur,” charles patted your hip with an annoying smile, before he climbed off the bed to put the gel away.

“charles, don’t tease her,” max sighed, “it’s just a week, pretty girl. you’ll be fine.”

you are not fine.

it’s the slowest time has ever passed in your entire life. honestly, the nerve of your boyfriends to have beautifully muscled thighs around you. you’ve been put in horny jail–seriously! the two men seem to have a radar for whenever you start to get turned on. no matter how hard you try to suppress any changes in your body language or facial expression, they sus you out in a few seconds. it’s uncanny; before you even open your mouth to try and persuade them into anything, they squish your cheeks together and say, “not yet,” and then walk away to give you space to calm down. every instance of this in the first couple of days was more mortifying than the aloe-vera gel application situation (which max now applies for you since charles couldn’t refrain from teasing you), but you quickly became desensitized.

max will not budge. he lets you whine, grovel, beg, promise, and plead. he sits through your whole monologue of desperation on day four, and smiles the entire time. when you finish your expertly delivered request to be allowed one orgasm from his thigh, he pats you on the ass and walks away. the amount of rage that filled you was probably unhealthy–how the fuck does he manage to be so unfazed?

charles, on the other hand, you could break. on day five, you trapped him in bed, sneakily convincing him to spend five more minutes with you while max brushed his teeth. you were quick to initiate sweet kisses, humming into the press of his lips, before you pull away and squirm on top of him to straddle his torso. 

the love-tinted haze cleared from his eyes as soon a he puzzled out your motive, and the monegasque moved to guide you off his body, but you halted him, pressing a firm hand in the middle of his bare chest. 

“c’mon cha–just let me, it’s been so long,” you pout down at him, doe-eyes wide and pleading, “don’t you wanna make me feel good?”

charles wavered–it has been so long. he doesn’t think he’d forget how your face looks as you orgasm, but it would be nice to see it again. you slowly grind your hips down on his, and charles manages to hold back any noises, but his eyes flutter in pleasure. the brunet halts your hips when he sees the brief flicker of discomfort appear in the furrow of your brows.

“ah, regarde toi (look at you)!” charles tuts disapprovingly, “you know you aren’t ready, just wait a little longer!”

you climb off of his lap, and bury your face in the pillow next to him, muffling a dramatic scream to make sure he knows how displeased you are. he rubs your back soothingly, letting you release your anger, before you flip over and huff.

“fine–whatever. two more days. two more days…for me,” you murmur, ignoring charles’ squint at your words, “just because i can’t do anything doesn’t mean you two can’t, right?”

charles shrugs his agreement, “yes, i guess. we haven’t came since you can’t. we were just planning to wait for your skin to recover.”

your heart warms at their abstinence, and the gears of your brain start turning. 

“hmm. you know you don’t have to wait for me? i kind of got myself into this situation and it’s not fair for–”

“no. max and i are both responsible too,” charles cut you off, “we should’ve taken more care to make sure you weren’t pushing yourself too far.”

“i don’t blame you guys–i was jumping the two of you everytime you so much as breathed in the same room as me. but, that’s not the point! i was going to say: shouldn’t i thank you guys properly?” 

“quoi? how?” he tilted his head to the side in question.

“i mean, isn’t it time i learn how to make you feel good too? i’ve kind of taken advantage of you, and never thought about making sure you guys feel good, like me.”

“how can you say that, mon amour? you make us feel good everytime we make you feel good,” charles sees that you don’t quite believe him, “you don’t notice how tight our pants get when you sit on our thighs? after you’ve finished, we sneak away to the bathroom to relieve ourselves! trust me, we feel very good with you.”

“hey! that’s my point–i want to make you guys…cum,” you whispered, “not have you sneak away to go do it yourself. can’t you teach me? isn’t now the best time for me to learn when i can’t be distracted by my own orgasm?”

“as long as you avoid rubbing yourself on anything, i’m actually okay with this,” max’s voice carried from the doorway, causing you and charles to jump in surprise. neither of you heard him open the en-suite door.

the dutchman walked over and sat on the bed next to charles, who eagerly supported your suggestion now that max said it was okay. 

“c-can…can we do it now?” you asked quietly, simultaneously afraid of a possible rejection and the idea itself.

the younger man hummed, and sat up next to max. he smirked at the blonde, “i’m sure he can’t say no to the opportunity of having me teach you how to touch him just the way he likes.”

you may have miscalculated, to some degree. does everything about max have to big? big mouth, big hands, big thighs, big…dick. your brain stops functioning at the sight—max sitting with his back against the headboard, legs spread open comfortably, uncaring of how exposed he is, his cock half-hard and still growing where it rests on his thigh, and don’t forget his self-satisfied smirk at the sight of your shock. you squirm from your seat in between his legs and charles steadies you from his position behind you, bracketing your body within the two of them.

the monegasque shifts forward, hooking his chin on your shoulder with his chest pressed along your back, and hums softly, “all of that ,” charles pauses and moves his right hand to apply pressure on your navel, “is going to be deep inside of you soon.”

“ ‘s not gonna fit in me.”

“we’ll make it fit,” max states. you whimpered at his confident tone, and you could feel charles muffle his chuckle in the crook of your neck. 

the click of the lube bottle opening caused you to flinch back into charles, who soothed you with a pat on the hip. the brunet carefully squeezed out a small amount of lube into your right palm and murmured instructions for you to warm up the liquid. he then guided your hand to grasp max’s dick, who sighed softly at your touch.

“touch him however you want, mon ange,” the monegasque directed, “get used to how he feels and then we can make him feel good.”

swallowing down your apprehension, you lightly trace a finger down his shaft, marveling at how he’s a few of your fingers in girth and decently longer than the size of your hand (that’s definitely not fitting inside of you, they have no idea what they’re talking about). you drag the tip of your pointer finger up along the vein on his underside to the head of his cock. the tip is flushed with an attractive shade of pink complimenting the pale skin of his body, and it’s a beautiful contrast to the brown skin on the back of your hand. you wrap your palm around him gently and brush your thumb over the head, making a noise of surprise at his cock twitching in your grasp. a drop of pre-cum beads in the slit and you curiously drag a finger to collect it; you pause, before you bring your finger to your mouth and flick out your tongue to taste it.

it almost tastes like nothing? slightly bitter, a little salty—but, it’s good. he tastes good. 

max groans and the sound of his head falling back and hitting the headboard reminds you that the cock you’re feeling up is attached to him. 

a broken rasp of, “fuck,” slips from his lips, and charles kisses your cheek in approval.

“ah-you’re so good at this already, mon amour,” charles cheered, “let’s give him a hand, together.”

he brings his left hand around your body to join yours around max’s, and leads you through the motions. he starts you on half strokes, having you circle your hand around the head, while he focuses on mimicking your motions around the base. you can see the muscles of max’s abdomen and thighs clenching with the effort of not thrusting forward into your hand.

“shit,” max moans, “the two of you will be the death of me.”

charles nips a mark right behind you ear, “move your hand like this—oui, just like that—and press your palm around the head—good girl—just keep doing that for me, mon amor.”

max groans roughly at the focused attention on the sensitive tip of his dick; he’s going to come embarrassingly quickly. the sight of charles teaching you how to give him a proper handjob is going to keep him up at night.

“liefje, you’re doing such a good job,” max pants, “going to make come already, pretty girl—are you going to lick my cum off your fingers too?”

you moan highly at his words, nodding your head quickly in agreement, eager to keep being good for him. max continues to run his mouth as he gets closer to orgasm: ‘you and charles should taste the cum off your hand together,’ ‘he can’t wait to get his hands and mouth on you,’ etc.

with a stuttered breath, max warns you that he’s cumming—and charles yanks your hand off of him; ruining max’s orgasm. the dutchman shouts in frustration, his hips bucking up freely now, trying to chase the delicious friction that was stolen from him.

with flushed cheeks, max yells, “what the fuck, charles!” and you turn to look at charles, who’s sitting behind you with an extra-pleased smirk on his face. the brat shrugs nonchalantly, not offering an explanation. you bring your hand back to grasp max’s cock—and repeat the same motion of twisting your palm around the head, to lead max back to an orgasm. he moans in relief, thankfully the edge of release didn’t slip away from him entirely—and then you bring your other hand up to make up for charles’. 

all it takes is a few more synced strokes, and max cums. you feel the warmth of his release coat your fingers, but your eyes are stuck on his expression. his mouth parted slightly, eyes shut, his chest heaving, mouth red and flushed from where he was biting at his bottom lip, and you can see the pleasure washing over his face—goddamn, you wish you were feeling what he is. in the haze of appreciating how he looks when he comes, you fail to stop your hands from continuing your motions and max’s hands fly down to halt you once the pleasure slips into too-much.

when he makes eye-contact with you, you raise your cum-covered hand to your mouth and make a show out of tasting his cum. you moan sweetly and smack your lips—honestly, you don’t particularly like or dislike the taste, but the way max’s eyes widen at your display makes you think you’ll learn to love it. he watches you lick your hands clean, and murmurs out a faint, “what the actual hell, liefje.”

“and, you,” the older man’s expression hardens as he directs his cold gaze on charles, “we’re not touching you for two weeks.”

“por quoi?!,” the monegasque pretends as if he doesn’t know exactly what he did.

you and max both ignore charles’ whining, and you smile extra sweetly at max as you wiggle onto his lap, “may i use your thigh, please?”

he digs his thumb into the sensitive skin of your thigh, and you yelp lightly. 

“two more days, liefje,” max orders, “and if you’re patient, you can have more than just my thigh.”

© httpsserene - do not reupload. photos in header image are from pinterest. divider by @cafekitsune.

[lillaydee]

Coulda

Asshole/Idiotic Joel Miller / F Reader

You found the perfect man. The man of your dreams. Unfortunately, you were not the only one who thought so.

WARNINGS: Angst, Jealousy, Heartbreak, bff, The Other Woman, Joel Miller is a blind idiot, Joel Miller is an asshole, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Miscarriage.

Tagging those who commented on the Wips I posted before - let me know if you want to be removed k?

@bergamote-catsandbooks @joelalorian @letsgobarbs @jessthebaker

MASTER LIST

You were a temp at the company he was building for, still going through college. He was just a small time contractor. Just starting out. It was him alone then, his brother not yet part of his company. He came to your window to collect his weekly payment. When he smiled at you, you felt as if you were struck by lightning. Your entire body lit up. You even looked around behind you to see if there was any gorgeous woman behind you that he was smiling at. But no, he was smiling at you.

There began the small talk, the subtle flirting, the lingering looks and smiles. He began letting others go ahead of him in the line, wanting to stay back to talk to you. He usually came in on Fridays, one of the three days you worked.

You had exams two Fridays in a row and did not go to work. You wondered if he looked for you, if he flirted with the girls who took over from you. You wondered if he asked them about you. If he thought about you at all.

The Friday you came back, you waited anxiously as the line of contractors walked in for their payments, butterflies filling your stomach as you looked forward to see his gorgeous face again. And then you saw him walk in, eyes down, a serious look on his face. He stood in the queue with a sourpuss on, not realizing you were back, and his face lit up like Christmas came early when he heard your voice greet him and realized it was you at the window, that you had come back.

“I thought I was never gonna see you again,” he had mumbled.

“Oh, I’m just a temp here. I had exams the last couple of weeks. So…”

He nodded, a small smile on his lips. He took his cheque and said a soft good bye – there were people behind him waiting for their payments. So he didn’t linger. He did stop before leaving, as if contemplating, but he left, nonetheless.

You found him in the parking lot, waiting for you. You asked him if there was something he needed, if he had forgotten something? He said yes, he did forget something. He was flustered. Hands in pockets, shoulders up to his ears, head down, asking you if you would want to go out with him.

“Didn’t like not seeing you like that,” he said, a shy smile on his lips, his hand going the back of his neck, absent-mindedly scratching a non-existent itch. “I didn’t want to go weeks without seeing you again.”

God, you were flattered. He was extremely good looking. You knew the other ladies in the office had eyes on him. They all looked forward to Fridays, all clamouring to get your position at the window just to talk to him. They all gave you the evil eye when you came back to work this week. Apparently, both girls who took your spot the last two Fridays had told everyone that all he did beside signing his name on the form was ask if you were coming back.  

He took you out for a drink that night. A movie the next night. Dinner the night after that.

He called you every single day when you went back to your hometown for the break. Drove all the way over to pick you up when your break was over a few weeks later.

When he kissed you for the first time, you saw stars.

And when he made love to you, you swore he took you to heaven and back.

My God, you were stupid in love, and there was nothing anyone could say to snap you out of it.

Your friends were jealous, yet extremely happy for you. His family loved you. His parents introduced you as their new daughter to their friends. His brother Tommy called you the sister he never had. The man himself spoiled the living shit out of you. You were his reason for living, he told you. He was head over heels in love with you. He wanted to marry you. Have babies with you. Grow old with you.

Oh, how blessed your life was.

About two years after the two of you started dating, he finally introduced you to her.

Her.

They had been friends forever. They were BFFs. Best friends forever. But as far as you were aware, they were never a couple. That much was made very clear. Apparently, he was not her kind of man. Her kind of man comes from a certain background, and he was not that kind of a man. He had never been and never will be.

You know, the old money kind. 

His Mama worked for her family. The domestic. She used to bring him along back when they couldn’t afford daycare. They became friends. They went to different schools when school started, but he still went to her house when his Mama worked during the school holidays. The family took him and his Mama along on vacations, let him hang around at parties when his Mama worked, and the two just spent their time entertaining each other during those boring adult parties and vacations. Their lives were vastly different, but they were inseparable.

So they remained friends. He was always a shoulder for her to cry on. Her port in a storm. And boy oh boy was she caught in a slew of them throughout their friendship. Every single time those old money kinda men broke her heart, Joel was there to pick up the pieces and put her together again. And he would be her everything, until she found the next one who was her kind of man.

It was during her haze of being with one such man that he met you.

He introduced you to her when she came back for the holidays. It wasn’t due to his lack of trying that you had never met her, it was just logistics. She lived overseas with her suitor. They only came back for the holidays because they got engaged, so the holidays had a dual purpose.

She shrieked when she realized it was you, the woman her BFF had not been able to shut up about. She hugged you tight and called you sis. She dragged you around to introduce you to her family. Everyone was excited to meet you. So this was the woman who got Joel Miller down on his knees, they teased. Joel stood next to you, red in the face, his hand on yours, fingers entwined, happy that his second family was so accepting and approving of you.

Throughout her stay, she included you in her hangouts. Her friends were very nice, surprisingly not the hoity-toity rich kids you thought they would be at all. They were all married to their high school sweethearts, some of whom were Joel’s former classmates, all working and living a simple life away from their wealthy upbringing.

You were happy. You met the man of your dreams, his family loved you, his friends loved you, and most important of all, he loved you.

Your family adored him. Not only was he a gentleman, but he was also kind, loving, caring, and extremely respectful of your family. Your Mom couldn’t stop gushing about him. Your Dad was over the moon that you had brought home a good, hardworking man to introduce to him. He had no doubt Joel Miller would take good care of his little girl.

When your parents visited during your college graduation, his family invited your family around for dinner. You and Joel sat at the table and watched as your parents talked to each other as if they were lifelong friends, your Moms gossiping about the latest shared favourite soap opera drama at the table as if the characters were someone they both knew, practically squirming with anger at the antagonistic girl that had just spoiled the protagonist’s wedding day. Your Dads talked politics, both moaning about the state of the country, your brother and Tommy shaking their heads at the abysmal performance their favourite team had put forth so far.

Just before they left town, Joel took your Dad and brother out for a drink. They came home to your shared apartment drunk but happy, His Dad and Tommy winking at you as they dropped the three men off.

The morning your family were due to leave town, the two families came together for brunch. Instead of orange juice, you were served mimosas, and Joel got on his knee and asked you to marry him.

Oh, how perfect your life was.

When she was told, she called you, absolutely elated with happiness and excitement that her BFF was getting married. She had gone back to the country she was living in at that point and called you every other week to ask about wedding plans. You and Joel planned to marry soon, a small wedding, just close family and friends. Hers on the other hand was due to take place the year after, a huge celebration on an exotic island. Her fiancé was a prominent figure, small town weddings simply won’t do.

When the date was all set and looming, Joel received news that she had called off her engagement. Typical of a wealthy, good-looking man that her fiancé was, she found out he had other ladies. The ones he had at the ready at every single business locations he had been leaving her at home alone for over the years they had been together. She called your fiancé, her BFF, absolutely broken and shattered, crying into the phone for hours. He stayed online with her, consoling his best friend, telling her he was there for her, that she deserved better, that she could always come back home and start over.

She called you a week before your wedding to apologize for not being able to attend. She was too heartbroken, too sensitive, too fragile to attend an event where love was the centre of attention to go. She didn’t want to take away from your special day, would rather not attend only to take attention away from the beautiful bride by bursting into tears in the corner. To make up for it, she was sending you and Joel away on a dream honeymoon, all paid for, first class everything, only the best for her best friend and the woman of his dreams, she told you.

Joel was understandably disappointed that his best friend wouldn’t be attending his big day, but even he could understand how upsetting it would be for her to attend. You could too, how could one sit there and celebrate someone else’s love when your own had been shattered into smithereens?

The big day arrived. Everything was going perfectly. The ceremony went down without a hitch. Joel cried his eyes out when he saw you walk down the aisle. The two of you practically sobbed your way through the vows, both far too emotional and happy that this day had come.

And when the two of you kissed for the first time as husband and wife, you felt as if you were in a protective bubble, safe and sound, just the two of you, ready to take your next steps into the world as a couple, the start of your own little happy family.

The reception was a dream. The food was wonderful, the music was perfect. Everyone was just happy for the two of you. You couldn’t take your eyes off your new husband, and he, you. He didn’t let go of your hand all night, whispering naughty things to you, getting you all worked up and shy from his teasing, telling you the things he was going to do to you the moment the two of you were alone.

The two of you were lost in each other during the first dance, bodies together, cheek to cheek, both elated to have found each other. Everyone was standing around the dance floor, practically cooing at the sight of the two of you, happy and in love, the beautiful, loving couple.

And then the door to the hall opened with a dramatic bang. So loud the music stopped.

She was standing there, looking drop dead gorgeous, in a white dress.

And not just any white dress either.  

Her beautiful, very-expensive, dripping-in-crystals-and-money, opulent, ballroom-style-wedding-gown, custom-made white dress.

She walked towards the dance floor, her Louboutin stilettos cracking like gunshots as she made her way to you and your new husband. She hugged you, whispering a teary congratulations, asking you if she could cut in.

It was as if you had floated out of your body, watching as your body in the simple white dress, the one that now looked like a worn out hospital gown compared to her grand, intricate, one-of-a-kind Vera Wang, step to the side, allowing her to take your place in your new husband’s arms.

And he, in return, pulled her close, told her how beautiful she looked, turned to the band and told them to continue.

You, along with the rest of your stunned guests and family, watched as he twirled her around the dance floor, on your wedding day, during what should have been your first dance, dancing to the music you had chosen to commemorate this happy occasion for you and him. But here you were, standing at the sideline as he swayed with her instead of you.  

You could have said something, but your tongue was tied. You could have cut back in, but you didn’t want to make a scene. You could have walked out of there, but your feet were glued to the ground.

You coulda.

Woulda

[xxepherr]

.ೃ࿐RESEARCH

summary — in which a research day takes place in the comfort of the home she shares with her boyfriend. he has a debate with his former podcast cohost to prepare notes for, and she has a federal election to cover.

pairings — hasan piker x politicalcorrespondent!girlfriend

pronouns — she/her

word count — 1470

note — not really an x reader bc she covers australian politics but lives in america with him, and therefore i didn't wanna make it too reader-specific. anyway, the election just ended here in australia and it was on the same day as the hasan v e debate so i decided to get back into writing :)

THE HOUSE HAD NOT been this silent in a long time.

for the past week and a half, her and her boyfriend had been locking themselves in different rooms during their free time to get together as much research as they possibly could on two very different political situations. hasan, who had an upcoming debate with the man who was a former friend and podcast cohost, and her, who had little time to prepare for the upcoming australian election before she had to fly there to cover the lead up to the count.

hasan's family hadn't been around as much since the start of last week because of it. she loved his family but there was something incredibly peaceful about the atmosphere being so silent that every shift in the air could be heard. especially when she had twenty tabs lagging out her laptop and could feel another blue screen threatening to interrupt her once again.

it was late afternoon, the sun mellowing outside the window as she lounged on her stomach across the floor of the open-space living room. the loudest thing that greeted her ears was the sudden heavy footsteps on the hardwood flooring. lost in thought as she scrolled endlessly through an article to ensure it withhold as much bias as possible, she didn't look up at hasan, not even when he stepped over her, bending slightly to scratch the top of her head in a silent greeting before sitting down next to her on the comfortable rug.

he waited for her to speak first, not wanting to break her out of her train of thought. he watched the time tick to two minutes at the top of his phone as he retweeted a post before she spoke. "hey," she lifted her head to look up at him, a warm smile bubbling to life. "how was stream?"

"same old," he said simply, tilting her chin up a little more to press a kiss to her lips. "i tried to finish as early as possible for you." he'd explained at the start of the stream that it wasn't going to be super long one because he had other commitments, namely his girlfriend, and so once he covered everything he needed to plus a few extra things, he was queueing up the outro song and turning off his camera.

"aw," she hummed, turning back to glance at her laptop again. she glanced at the time down in the corner of her screen. "did you want me to make us something to eat or . . .?"

shaking his head, hasan reached over to the coffee table that she had pushed closer to the couch earlier to grab his laptop. "ordered us your favourite already." he knew she was busy and didn't want to interrupt her, so he took the initiative to order from her favourite cafe to treat her. he had walked past her multiple times within the past couple of hours to go get food or a water refill because she didn't come in to drop off any when she got her own like she normally did due to the amount of research she was stuck under.

it meant that he knew she had not eaten much either, and they were going to be on the floor for a while until they called it quits . . . he was getting ready for it to be a long night.

"ugh," she groaned in delight, "you're a lifesaver. this is doing my fucking head in."

with each day of campaigning changing the narrative, there was so much constant work she had to do to keep up until her flight out to australia in a few days time.

"talk to me," hasan hummed, opening the lid of his laptop and typing in the password. the document that already had links and bullet point lists under subheadings already took up two pages and it wasn't even in full detail yet.

"they want me to talk about literally every party, basically," she tried not to sound like she was complaining too hard, but she was genuinely just frustrated. not at the workload — at the fact that the country was slowly turning to shit and people were genuinely falling for the lies of all the conservative parties that got far more votes than they realistically should. "there are people genuinely considering voting in the next trump and elon because they listen to the australian equivalent of fox news and do no further research, like they're straight up just ignoring the fact that peter dutton and gina rinehart are gonna fuck things up so bad, and people believe their nuclear power being cheaper bullshit." she spoke so fast she was quickly out of breath.

hasan did not know as much about australian politics so a lot of it did not stick out to him, but he gladly listened to her every time she spoke about it. the information got stored into a compartment in his brain that was labelled 'aus politics for when i need it' and it got added to every time his girlfriend mentioned anything about it. he didn't have to understand her to be attentive.

"and there's this dickhead who makes a new right-wing party every election 'cause he has too much money," she rambled on, melting under the sudden feeling of his hand tracing patterns on the skin that was exposed on her back from her shirt riding up. "guess what it's called this year."

"uh . . . trump part two?" hasan answered unsurely, partially kidding. his jaw dropped when she didn't immediately say he was wrong.

"basically," she admitted, "it's called trumpet of patriots. it sounds like a super bad meme."

that was news to him. "you're . . . not joking?"

"nope."

laughter tumbled out of him, his hand stilling on her back for a moment. "that's so unserious."

"it's basically the unserious version of the us election," she shrugged, switching to a different tab. this time, an article about how cost of living is swaying younger voters. "anyway . . . how's yours going?"

the words on the document he had open were staring holes through him. "i'm definitely mentally preparing for this shit way more than preparing notes, that's for sure." he didn't do debates because they showcase as more of an entertainment thing than an actual way to get your point across to the other party involved. he was willing to have a conversation with his former cohost and friend, but he knew how it would unfold. everyone did. it would hardly be productive, and so all mental preparation would go towards harbouring extreme levels of restraint and calamity.

her fingers hovered over the keyboard, pausing. hasan maneuvered so that he was laying stomach-down on the floor, his laptop beside hers as he got comfortable. "we both know how its gonna go down."

"uh huh."

"he's gonna talk over you, mock your stuttering, and be a child about literally everything," she easily listed off, annoyance simmering underneath at the thought of it. sometimes she sat in the armchair in the corner of the room while he streamed when she wanted to be in his presence without being on camera. she, however, would absolutely not be sitting in on that debate because she could already picture how much of a mess it would be. she planned to watch it from afar, but even then it was going to be a hard watch.

there was no denying it. hasan could only sigh. they lapsed into a comforting silence, basking in the warmth of the late afternoon sun shining through the windows. the peaceful levels of quiet were only broken by the repetitive pattern of keyboard keys echoing clicks and when kaya dug her wet nose into hasan's arm to try get attention before doing it to her other owner.

a brief cuddle session break that was lengthened when the food arrived lasted a little longer than it perhaps should have, but then it was back to scrolling through videos, social media posts and articles to compile as much as they could. hasan was interrupt her train of thought to ask "does this sound okay?" whenever necessary, and she did similar, instead asking, "is this okay enough?" because all she really needed were unbiased facts to at least try combat the problem of political presenters sharing their opinion when they shouldn't be.

it only lasted until the sun was pretty much gone and they were bathed in darkness when she shut the lid of her laptop and rolled onto him until she was laying directly on top of his back. "wanna play stardew valley?" was all she had to ask and he was closing his laptop lid and trying to stand up without her falling to the floor, research long forgotten as they booted up the xbox to play their split-screen farm.

[trainsinanime]

The darkly ironic thing is that if you are worried about the recent news that someone scraped Ao3 for AI research, then you're probably vastly underestimating the scale of the problem. It's way worse than you think.

For the record, a couple of days ago, someone posted a "dataset for AI research" on reddit, which was simply all publicly accessible works on Ao3, downloaded and zipped. This is good, in a way, because that ZIP file is blatantly illegal, and the OTW managed to get it taken down (though it's since been reuploaded elsewhere).

However, the big AI companies, like OpenAI, xAI, Meta and so on, as well as many you've never heard of, all probably had no interest in this ZIP file to begin with. That was only ever of interest to small-scale researchers. These companies probably already have all that data, received by scraping it themselves.

A lot of internet traffic at the moment is just AI companies sucking up whatever they can get. Wikipedia reports that about a third of all visitors are probably AI bots (and they use enormous amounts of bandwidth). A number of sites hosting software source code estimate that more than 90% of all traffic to their sites may be AI bots. It's all a bit fuzzy since most AI crawlers don't identify themselves as such, and pretend to be normal users.

The OTW hasn't released any similar data as far as I am aware, but my guess would be that Ao3 is being continuously crawled by all sorts of AI companies at every moment of the day. If you have a fanfic on Ao3, and it isn't locked to logged-in users only, then it's already going to be part of several AI training data sets. Only unlike this reddit guy, we'll never know for sure, because these AI training data sets won't be released to the public. Only the resulting AI models, or the chat bots that use these models, and whether that's illegal is… I dunno. Nobody knows. The US Supreme Court will probably answer that in 5-10 years time. Fun.

The solution I've seen from a lot of people is to lock their fics. That will, at best, only work for new fics and updates, it's not going to remove anything that e.g. OpenAI already knows.

And, of course, it assumes that these bots can't be logged in. Are they? I have no way of knowing. But if I didn't have a soul and ran an AI company, I might consider ordering a few interns to make a couple dozen to hundreds of Ao3 accounts. It costs nothing but time due to the queue system, and gets me another couple of million words probably.

In other words: I cannot guarantee that locked works are safe. Maybe, maybe not.

Also, I don't think there's a sure way to know whether any given work is included in the dataset or not. I suppose if ChatGPT can give you an accurate summary when you ask, then it's very likely to be in, but that's by no means a guarantee either way.

What to do? Honestly, I don't know. We can hope for AI companies to go bankrupt and fail, and I'm sure a lot of them will over the next five years, but probably not all of them. The answer will likely have to be political and on an international stage, which is not an easy terrain to find solutions for, well, anything.

Ultimately it's a personal decision. For myself, I think the joy I get from writing and having others read what I've written outweighs the risks, so my stories remain unlocked (and my blog posts as well, this very text will make its way into various data sets before too long, count on it). I can totally understand if others make other choices, though. It's all a mess.

Sorry to start, middle and end this on a downer, but I think it's important to be realistic here. We can't demand useful solutions for this from our politicians if we don't understand the problems.

[sylusonychinus]

Episode 4.5: A Marriage of Convenience

Series Masterlist Next Episode

The next morning, you woke up in Caleb’s apartment, the reality of your new marriage settling in. The contract had been signed, the wedding had been a quick legal affair, and now, here you were—living with Caleb Xia, your husband.

It still felt surreal.

You stepped into the kitchen, finding Caleb already making coffee, dressed in casual sweats and a plain shirt. He looked entirely at ease, as if nothing about this situation was strange.

“Morning, wife,” he teased, handing you a cup.

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip. “Don’t push it, husband.”

He smirked, leaning against the counter. “We should set some ground rules.”

You nodded. “For starters, we don’t have to act like a real couple when it’s just us.”

“Agreed,” Caleb said. “But in front of our families, we play the part. That means the occasional public date, anniversary posts, and yes, maybe a few affectionate gestures.”

You swallowed. “Define ‘affectionate gestures.’”

“Relax, I’m not asking you to make out with me in front of your mom,” he said, amused. “Hand-holding, sitting close together, maybe the occasional kiss on the forehead if necessary.”

Your face burned at the thought. “Fine,” you muttered.

Caleb grinned but didn’t push further. “And one more thing,” he added. “No falling for each other.”

You laughed. “No problem there.”

But as the days passed, living with Caleb started to feel… natural. The way he instinctively made you coffee in the morning, how he draped a blanket over you when you fell asleep on the couch, the way he ruffled your hair with that infuriating yet endearing smirk—

No. You wouldn’t fall for Caleb Xia.

This was just a contract. Two years, and you’d go back to being single.

So why did it already feel like something more?

Taglist: @jinwoosbabyboo @kithyyy @mcdepressed290 @nezuswritingdesk @elegantdeerlady @yuuuumii @duhgurl @lumieresdreams @bidisasterforevermore @i-messed-up-big-time

@that-one-scoundrel @justpassingdontworry @ansbobcar @nagireos @auriuswolve @bookworm1999 @sickleddreamer @heeknow

a/n: THIS CHAPTER WAS NOT RELEASED IN MY QUEUE IT RELEASED THE OTHER ONE BUT NOT THIS ONE

[itwasrealtome]

THIN ICE

Here's an extract from THIN ICE. Enjoy !

And here’s the full version

If you’d like to be tagged in the upcoming posts, please let me know in comments, my dm, or fill in the FORM. It’s free and I don’t bite :)

A/N : Question is : What mistake did Y/n make?

This afternoon, the streets seemed even more crowded than usual. The vehicles flooded the roads, coming from every corner and blocking the main way out.

Behind a queue of about ten of them, a police car came to a sudden halt. The alarm was on, and the blue and red flashing lights blinded anyone who looked in that direction.

But no one moved.

Not even the sound of a horn persuaded the citizens of New York to get out of the path.

Amanda’s grip on the wheel only tightened. She had never been able to understand the reason behind people’s insensitivity to this kind of thing. It was such an easy thing to understand. Besides, someone’s life often depended on it. Yet, there she was, turning furiously midway, her partner gasping in surprise, her shirt now stained with hot coffee.

— Dude, can’t you just warn before doing that kind of thing?

The blonde gave a brief glance to her passenger. She expected to find her glued to the door, her fingers clenched around the top handle, but she didn’t.

Y/N was desperately trying to absorb the contents of her cup on her worktop. The wipers provided with her order, finally finding their use.

While most people would have been annoyed about staining a piece of clothing, the young detective was not. She seemed much more upset about losing a few drops of her beverage. The former could still be replaced, but the latter was definitely needed.

— Sorry about your shirt.

— Yeah, well you owe me a coffee.

The driver’s smile only widened when she heard her partner muttering complaints. She knew her well enough to say that it had nothing to do with that slight accident. It was cute. Of course, it was. But Amanda could see through it. She knew it had nothing to do with the coffee. Sure, the days were long and their job involved finding stimulants to stay awake, but Y/N was never acting like that. Something was different. And who better to notice than someone who practically lived with her?

— Sure you’re okay?

— Rollins, it’s just a shirt. I think I can get over it.

Amanda gave her a knowing glance. She expected this kind of answer from the young officer. Everyone knew what kind of person she was.

Committed, she was always the first to arrive at the precinct and the last to leave. She was practically married to the job by now. And though Kat had trouble following orders, Y/N did not. She was the perfect partner. Amanda couldn’t remember a time when Y/N had lost control. But these days, everything seemed to fall apart.

It began with a couple of small comments, here and there, a bit too harsh coming from Y/N’s mouth. Next up, her silence during the team talk was a concerning factor for Amanda. If anyone always had something to add to the investigation, it was her. This ranged from a simple detail no one had noticed, to scientific or sociological facts. It was often complicated to keep the detective quiet, so her lack of involvement was bound to catch the eye. That and the fact the blonde had seen her leave the bunks two mornings in a row at the exact same time.

Sure, it was just the addition of minor details. But the older woman’s gut was not wrong, not about this. Something was wrong with her partner. And it had nothing to do with a simple lack of caffeine.

— Oh, don’t give me that kind of look.

— But you’re not telling me the truth, Y/N/N!

Y/N huffed quietly. At times in her life, she hated being around people whose job was to investigate. She cursed them all equally. She just couldn’t help herself the last few days. Her anger was aimed at a specific and unique person, but that person being in law enforcement themselves, it was almost overwhelming to go to work every day. Time seemed to run too slowly there. The only moments she enjoyed were those outside the building. The cold New York weather allowed her to clear her mind and take a deep breath. And she always had something to do, after all the city never slept.

—Like you don’t keep anything to yourself, huh?

Amanda faintly spluttered. Everyone knew she had had difficult times, but she wasn't the only one. And now that she was honest with herself, she knew she had made mistakes. One thing’s for sure, she did not want her partner to replicate these.

— I made some mistakes, most of them I don’t want you to repeat.

— I seriously doubt you did this one.

***

Taglist :

@electricboost @womenlovingwomen-imagines @hi-1-1 @emskisworld @enjoytheentireworld @arie109 @marvelandotheruniversesloveradhd @philocalistwrites @wittygutsy @observeowl @ravennewlyn @tina-2005 @makkaroni221 @ssaaggwwaa @supercorpstan97 @youdontknowwhotfiamm @mmmmokdok @hbkpop @micaluvssoccer @namelesscheshire @inquisitive-nix @l4yne @rain-mikaelson @idk-whats-wrong-with-me-blog @nciscmjunkie @moonlightjxuregui @thefatobsession @12fluffybunny12 @scarletwitcher97 @thesamesweetie @idonothingallday

[bringthesauerkraut]

Late Night Archive Blog Update (16/06/25)

So. Last TDS Jonday tonight until July 7th (planned two week summer hiatus) & the guest is John Mulaney. Which is, like.. fine.

Still. 😭

Oh well. Best finally sort this out then lol.

Apologies I've not really posted any videos or answered many requests but my health is still kicking me in my imaginary bollocks coupled with the fact that the process I use to make videos harder to detect now is a little time consuming but I don't really have a choice since the whole Paramount debacle I had. But as you can see I do have many ready to go but its just been finding when my health will allow me the time to sort it out. But TWO WEEKS without Jon will mean I have some time to kill. So in the next few days I'll get this queue up & running again.

Probably aiming for no more than one, maybe two videos a day (or up to three if its requests as they tend to be shorter) due to the type of videos these are.

Videos coming your way include but not limited to:

Super Pac saga contd, Weiner Penis saga contd, Stephen/Jimmy BFFS saga contd, Gitmo appearances contd, Stephen breaks his wrist saga new, Jon & Stephen argue for weeks over holding opposing rallies saga (rally to restore sanity &/or fear) new, Glenn Beck segments contd, more Stewbert segments, many Jon & John segments (I see you Oliver fans lol), literally dozens of random TDS & TCR segments, many more videos of Stephen singing with guests, the usual Jon Stewart thirst posting nonsense & finally as many of your varied & occasionally weird requests as I can get though lol.

Anyway, excuse me whilst I sob dramatically like a spinster in a period drama over being deprived of frustrated hot old man for two whole weeks.

[onthewaytosomewhere]

are we queue-ing sunday sentences on a friday cuz will be driving and whatnot over the weekend - yes!! yes we are ...

so thursday i posted my full moon run werepire smutty fic just a bit of full moon fun - and at the time i wrote this was in def need of some luv cuz silly me forgot to fix the date on it when i posted - oops

so continuing the werepire fics i'm gonna give some words from the werepire firstprince adopt a shifter that's going up on halloween (or somewhere there abouts)

It’s probably not much of a leap for Alex to start thinking about what-ifs and maybes, but the way it sneaks up on him still catches him off guard. One moment, he’s sitting quietly at the shelter, watching Gabby boss the other kids around with her tiny hands on her hips, and the next, the idea is just ... there. Not a question so much as a possibility—one that settles into his mind like it’s been waiting to surface for a long time. He doesn’t bring it up right away, though. He knows himself well enough by now to give it time, let the thought steep until he’s figured out exactly what it means for him—and more importantly, for Henry. After a few of decades as a were, Alex has learned the value of patience. Slowing down and processing things is second nature now, even if he still looks like the same fresh-faced twenty-something from the day he was turned. He’s changed in other ways—more deliberate, less impulsive. This feels like one of those thoughts that needs space to breathe before it’s spoken aloud. And so he lets it sit, giving it the time it needs. But the idea grows roots the longer he spends around Gabby. He can’t help it. She’s fearless and sweet, a tiny whirlwind of energy and affection—and every time she clings to his leg or curls into his lap with that sleepy trust, something in him tugs a little tighter. A couple of weeks pass, and the idea begins to crystallize. It isn’t just a flight of fancy—it’s possible. Maybe they could do this. Maybe the family Henry talks about in those quiet, late-night conversations isn’t some far-off dream. Maybe it could start right here, with Gabby.

tags galore beneath the cut

okay tag ur it (in a no-pressure all that jazz way) @adreamareads @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517

@catdadacd @caterpills @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise @dragonflylady77

@duchessdepolignaca03 @emmalostinwonderland @england-would-fall @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n

@firstprincehornyramblings @firstsprinces @forever-fixating @getmehighonmagic @heysweetheart-writes

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inell @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @jmagnabo92

@judasofsuburbia @kiwiana-writes @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @mikibwrites

@myheartalivewrites @ninzied @nocoastposts @orchidscript @piratefalls

@porcelainmortal @priincebutt @softboynick @sophie1973 @sparklepocalypse

@stellarmeadow @suseagull04 @tailsbeth-writes @taste-thewaste @thedramasummer

@theprinceandagcd @thinkof-england @typicalopposite @thesleepyskipper @thighzp

@tinyarmedtrex @zwiazdziarka @seths-rogens @royal-chandler @strwbrryagcd

@stratocumulusperlucidus @basil-bird @eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead @girlwonder-writes

[agirlandherquill]

truths

goodness it's january 1st already, only feels like yesterday that i typed up the final post for writeblr - which was such a blast, and thanks again to all who participated - and even if you didn't, it's never too late to use the prompts for a little inspo! - anyways, for the past couple of days i've been working on a little story, something completely outside of my usual comfort zone,

for starters, it's not fantasy, in my mind it's a contemporary thriller, and it's written in first person (cue the nervous butterflies)

and incase the title wasn't a give-away, i've decided to give this story a very simple title - truths.

it's a story about a journalist in a small town trying to solve a series of murders terrorising the community, and she's teaming up with a private detective to do it - which is bound to have it's chaotic moments, just like the case and the story she's trying to write

and for once in my life, I've come up with a little blurb (queue sarcastic applause, because blurbs are the bane of my existence)

"Three murders and counting plague a small town, where no-one has a clue who's responsible, not even the police, and it's the greatest story to hit the local papers in years - only it's not been written yet, because journalist Bette never publishes an unfinished story. She is going to find the truth, find who's responsible, and finish the tragic story for her community, once and for all. Only she's not alone. Someone else is along for the truth-seeking ride. Private-Detective AJ appoints himself her partner in crime - or truth, if we're being specific - and he has no intention of letting the killer walk free. Let the search for truth begin - for all of them. Because the truth is twisted, it is tragic, it is different, from every angle. And for Bette and AJ, the truth could be just as deadly."

have i got your attention? read on if you'd like a sneak peek to the story, with the first chapter :) (and if you want to read more, i'll be sticking the chapters up on ao3, which you can find here)

He’s looking at me again.

For the fifth time in the last hour, I pretend to sip from my empty mug, using the opportunity to catch a glimpse of him. Only this time as I shift in my chair, someone walks past, crashing into my table. Coffee spills from their mug and onto my shirt. 

I stand up with a gasp at the shock of it, then try to swipe a few napkins from the rack on my table, dabbing frantically at the stain while the person whose coffee has now ruined my day leaves the shop without another word. 

“Some people hey? Are you all right?”

I look to my left. A man, early twenties, unruly brown hair and blue eyes stands there, offering me a few more napkins. Oddly nice of him. Nicer than anyone else in here. 

“Thanks. I’m all right.” I take them, and make a pitiful attempt of rubbing the stain out of the material. “I can’t say the same for this though.”

“At least it didn’t damage anything more important.” 

“What?” I look at him, confused. Is my shirt not important? Is it not important to not look like a coffee-stained slob at 11:33 in the morning? 

He gestures to my laptop, sitting next to my empty mug. The criminally empty mug, which he spots, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. “Oh,” I sigh, reaching and double checking nothing had spilt on it. It was fine. “Yeah, I guess so.”

That’s when I notice it. The table where the staring man had been, was empty. I look away, then to him. “I guess this was just the perfect excuse you needed to come over and talk to me, wasn’t it?”

He props a hip on my table. As though he has the right to do so. I fold the useless napkins into a ball and stuff them in my empty cup before I look at him again. “Get bored of staring for an hour?”

“I didn’t need an excuse to talk to you.”

“No?”

“I just needed to know the right thing to say.”

I tense. “I’m sorry?”

He blinks, then holds his hands up. “I swear, I’m not one of those guys that tries to pick girls up in coffee shops - I’ve never- I don’t-”

Why is it on me to stop him digging his own grave? I sigh. “It’s fine. Look, I’ve got a busy morning ahead of me, and I’d rather not stand here in a stained shirt and become a spectacle, so if you want to say something… Go for it.” 

He clears his throat. “I’ve been here for the past couple of days, wondering when you’d come in.”

“Right,” I stare at him. “Because that’s not creepy.”

“No, no, I-” He rubs his neck, clearly flustered. “I was told, that if I wanted to talk to you, that this was the best place.”

I should be more alarmed by this, shouldn’t I? But there was that usual nagging at the back of my head, curiosity doing its usual tactic of becoming irresistible. It’s going to become a problem for me one day, I know that, but for the past 23 years of my life it’s not steered me too wrong so far. I sit back down in my chair, scoot my laptop out of the way, and nod for him to sit. He looks surprised that I’ve not told him to scarper. He sits down and I take a minute to take him in. His shirt is white, new, I think, judging by the lack of creases. All of the buttons are done up, save for the one nearest his throat. He likes to be presentable, but not so uptight that he’d rather not breathe. Brownie points in my favour. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s people who act as though they were born with sticks shoved up an unspeakable orifice. He wears a blazer - if I had to name the shade, I’d go for slate - Not too obtrusive on the eyes, but nice all the same. And it fits him well. Tailored? No. I think that’s muscle under there, not fabric. 

That’s when I realise I’ve been staring for a fraction too long. He’s smiling at me, an awkward one, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Then again, if he’s been watching me for the past hour, I’m allowed to return the favour, right? 

I prop my chin on my hand. “So, first off, who told you I’d be here?”

“Alfie.” Down at the Piper. Course he did, mouthy bastard. I’m not allowed to have my own private schedule down there.

“You want a job down at the Piper then?” I’m surprised. He doesn’t strike me as a journalist. In fact, he looks too nice for that.

He shakes his head, and I have to admit, curiosity digs its claws into my mind a little bit more. “What then?”

“I-I think it’ll make more sense first if I explain to you who I am.”

Policeman. Christ. He’s come to tell me I can’t use my sources on this story and without them, I’m-

“I’m a sleuth.”

I have to hear him say it again in order to believe my hearing’s not just left me and gone to hell. “What?”

“A… Sleuth. A private detective, whatever name you want to call it.”

Private detective, not an actual one. Phew, I’m in the clear. I tilt my head. “Go on then, Detective, tell me about yourself.”

He shifts in his seat, as though the mention of the title makes him squirm. “Well…” He looks nervous. I pity him. He’s not the sort of person I like to see squirm. For starters, his suit hasn’t come from the posher shops way down the high-street. I raise a hand to the passing waitress and order us two more coffees. He looks at me, blinking, before he seems to relax a little and goes on. “My name is AJ, I’m investigating the…” He stops as the waitress brings us our coffees, I slip her the cash and take a sip of mine, while he waits for her to be out of earshot before he continues.

“I’m investigating the Chapel Murders.”

I very nearly spit my coffee in his face. It scorches my throat as I force it down and reach for my laptop, discreetly shutting the screen. The screen of the story I’m writing for the Piper’s front page, about the very same thing. If he’s seen anything- No, he can’t have. But how does he know I’m the one that’s writing- Oh. Alfie. I’m going to drown him with the water fountain one of these days, then he’ll keep his mouth shut.

I take a napkin and dab at my lips, gesturing for him to go on.

“I’ve been asked by one of the families to find who’s responsible, and since the police aren’t about to do me any favours, I thought I’d come to you.”

“And you think I know anything?”

“I think that you’re the best chance I’ve got in this town, and you’ve been typing for 30 minutes straight, you’ve got something.”

“Listen, there’s such a thing as credibility and I can’t have you putting mine into question,” I sigh, packing my laptop into my bag. I pick up my coffee and stand. “It’s been nice talking to you AJ, I wish you the best of luck but I’m afraid I can’t help you.” No matter what Alfie’s said.

His face falls. I didn’t expect to see him so disappointed, but then I remind myself. He’s a P.I. He’s got to be used to doing things on his own. I raise my coffee cup to him. “Have a nice day.”

I leave The Brew, my favoured coffee spot in town, at precisely 11:48, when I check my phone and round the corner. I get to the zebra crossing when someone touches my arm. I jolt. My phone flies out of my hand and clatters to the floor. Someone reaches it before I do. I turn and see AJ, holding it out. “Look, I’m sorry, I just really need your help.”

“So you try to give me a heart attack?”

One of the cars at the crossing beeps at me. I shoot them a glare. Drive past then, it’ll be my funeral if I step out. But I’m busy right now. They beep again and I wave them through, turning back to AJ, who is still touching my arm. “I told you, I can’t help.”

There’s something in his eyes that stops me from bolting immediately. He looks… Sad? 

He takes a deep breath, then pulls his hand away from my arm. “Matt Colton. The second victim. He’s my brother.”

I pause. His face did feel familiar. But when I’ve spent the last two nights staring at the photo we’ve put out for Matt’s eulogy, it would be one I wouldn’t forget in a hurry. Guilt kicks me in the ribs. I can’t just tell him to get lost now, can I? He deserves to know. He deserves to find the truth about who took his brother’s life. Isn’t that why I took this job? For the truth? For people’s stories?

I thrust my coffee cup into his hand. “Hold this for me.”

He stares at me, but takes it. “Why?”

“Because, I can’t write with my hands full.” I fumble with my bag for my pen, then take out my notebook, flicking to the back page. I scribble the address for the Piper on it, then my email address, then I tear the page out and hand it over to him. “Meet me there, 7:45am tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

I take my coffee from him, a small part of my stomach fluttering at seeing the hopeful smile dawning on his face.

“Thank you. I mean it. T-Thank you.”

I salute him with my coffee and head across the road, only to be stopped by someone shouting. 

“Hey! Hey!”

I pivot on the curb, confused.

“I called about you at the Piper, but Alfie never gave me your name.” He gave you everything else though - Christ, I’m having words about privacy when I get back to the office.

“It’s Bette.”

He smiles at me, and waves. “I’ll see you tomorrow Bette.”

And then he walks away on the other side of the street, and strangely enough, I find myself looking forward to it.

~ ~ ~

now for the tag list!

(p.s if you'd like to be included/notified too, interact with this post :) p.p.s im finally getting around to updating it, so bear with me :))

@humbly-a-doppelganger @imawholeassmood @frostedlemonwriter @yrndrgn @abditorywriting

@riveriafalll @lead-to-code @casualsuitturtle @floweryprosegarden @joeys-piano

@catwingsathena @godsmostfuckedupgoblin @nothoughtsjustmhaandotherthings @anaisbebe

@drchenquill @leahnardo-da-veggie @tiredpapergirl @pastelpinkhobbies @a-mimsy-borogove @the-letterbox-archives @corinneglass @darkluminosity @kuebiko-writing (so sorry for the super late addition!)

[oldestfriend-invisibly]

Playdate- Little Pril & Little Jennifer

Hello!! Sorry I went a month and a half without posting any fics, I was having an extremely stressful time.

I made a post a few weeks ago about April and Jenn hanging out together when regressed and decided to write a whole fic of it.

There's a mandatory, all-day meeting at the Washington office and whilst April is too small to attend it, Ben can't get out of going. Instead she gets to spend the day with Jenn who is also regressed (though older) and has been told she can't be in the meeting and agrees to watch over the younger girl.

4.8K words (I got carried away.)

Warnings- brief mention of harmful stimming during a meltdown. I've put [red brackets] around the paragraph it's mentioned in if you need to skip it.

...

Until now, Ben hadn’t actively taken April into the Washington office when she was regressed. She had slipped a couple of times whilst already there before, but he’d been able to let her nap or sit quietly next to him in his office. And if she was small in the morning, Ben would just call and request the day off work altogether. 

But today, April hadn’t been obviously small when she woke up. Ben had noticed she was a bit more tired and grumbly than usual, but April wasn’t exactly a morning person, so he brushed it off. Now however, they were in the car, running late, and all Ben was focussed on was preparing himself for the big important meeting they had that day that everybody in the office would be attending.

Ben was so focused on mentally running and re-running his planned discussion points and planned schedule for the day, he completely missed the fact that April’s Scooby Doo audiobook CD had been left in the player and that it had automatically started playing when he turned the car on. 

He was only made aware of this by the soft humming of April in the passenger seat beside him mumbling along to the Scooby Doo theme song that played between the end of one story and the beginning of another. Internally, Ben started panicking, knowing instantly that she was small, though wasn’t sure how far April had regressed. From the singing which was somewhat coherent- not quite bordering on babbling- he guessed she wasn’t as young as she often was, but also, probably wasn’t big enough to be able to sit through the meeting. 

Ben couldn’t exactly just get April to be big, knowing being forced out of her headspace would most likely cause April to melt down later on. Equally, Ben could not miss this meeting. The current project was in its most critical phase, and as its leader- they couldn’t coordinate it without him there.

Additionally, Ben knew the others back in Pawnee were currently equally as busy, so likely wouldn’t have any free time to sit on a video call to April to keep her company. The thought of leaving his girl alone in the office made Ben’s heart constrict with anxiety. 

Glancing momentarily away from the road and at April he observed the way she was wriggling around in her seat and heard the way she was parroting back the words spoken by the narrator on the CD. Whilst not understimulated to the point of upset, Ben could tell that today was a day where April was going to need pretty constant sensory input and thus ideally- supervision. However, whilst Ben would never ever describe April’s stimming as disruptive, he knew that the ignorant, irritable idiots he worked with would tolerate hearing the small girl absentmindedly echoing each word they spoke back to them just about as well as April would tolerate having to silently sit still for hours on end. 

Running out of time as they were nearing the office building, Ben’s only plan of action consisted of getting April sat down in a quiet corner of the empty office and queueing up a day’s worth of movies for her to watch, with a handful of toys to fiddle with. He’d try his best to insert a few breaks into the meeting which he could use to get her to eat and use the bathroom, and maybe later in the day he could even get her to nap for the last few hours of the meeting. 

“Dad, what are we doing today?” April questioned, drawing out the words out in a way that Ben knew meant that she knew exactly what was scheduled for that day, but was hopeful that she could convince Ben to change the plans.

“I’ve got that big meeting today, remember? Do you think you’ll be fine to keep yourself busy on your own?” 

Ben winced at the pout and frustrated whine from beside him. 

“Meetings are stupid and boring though. Why can’t you cancel it, aren’t you meant to be in charge?” her tone was as biting as a five year old could reasonably manage.

Ben got out of the car and opened the passenger door, crouching down face-to-face with April as she turned away from him, crossed her arms, and huffed- refusing to get out of the car. He sighed, trying to remain patient, yet keep the conversation short enough that they wouldn’t be any later than they already were.

“I am in charge, April, which is why I absolutely have to be in the meeting. I’m going to need you to behave really well for me today or else we might have to go to bed early and then you wouldn’t be able to call Mommy for a nighttime story.” He hated to use the threat of punishment like this, but he urgently needed to get her out of the car and into the building.

April didn’t respond further than another very grumpy pout, and Ben doubted he’d get anything else out of her. She still shifted back straight in her seat to let him reach over and unbuckle her seatbelt, so she obviously wasn’t irreconcilably mad at him, though she didn’t accept his outstretched hand to hold as they entered the building. Instead she swung her arms back and forth, eyes fixed resolutely on the ground as she trudged behind Ben and angrily muttered a mix of complaints about the meeting, complaints about Ben, and Scooby Doo theme song lyrics. 

…

Whilst the meeting wasn’t due to start for another 4 minutes, by the time the two of them got up to the office it was already empty- everyone else had already made their way to the conference room. But as Ben didn’t technically have to be there until 9:30, he was going to stay with April, making sure she was settled, until the last moment; he didn’t care if it made him seem like a cold and distant boss.

When Ben scanned the room to determine the best place to get April situated, he realised he was incorrect in his initial assessment that the room was empty. 

Sitting in one of the corners closest to the door was Jennifer. This was slightly strange, but Ben wouldn’t be surprised if she too was taking advantage of the remaining four minutes of freedom she had that day- she had always been incredibly efficient when it came to putting in the exact amount of time and effort needed to do a good job and get paid and not a second more. 

“Avoiding the inevitable too, Jenn?” Ben called as he made his way over to where Jenn sat, deciding it would be a good idea to put April close to the water fountain there in the hope that maybe it’d prompt her to stay hydrated. He could hear April’s shuffling steps following not too close behind him, though she had gone silent in the unexpected presence of another person.

Jenn fixed Ben with a glare halfway between judgemental and disdainful, not uncommon, but didn’t provide any other response.

“Jenn…?”

“Ugh I’m so annoyed. I told them that I’m supposed to be in the pointless meeting and they can’t kick me out  because I’m important then them, but no! I’m not apparently because I’m not ‘fit for work today’ which is so stupid! I literally don’t even care about the meeting either because it’s probably going to be mind-numbingly boring because everyone in there are actual idiots, and they all acted like I’m a baby and I’m not! I hate them so much!” 

Ben was slightly taken aback by Jenn’s outburst. April seemed equally as wary as Ben felt her move closer behind him peering round at Jenn, similar to how a much smaller child would hide behind an adult's legs. 

“Jenn,” Ben wasn’t completely sure of the best way to go about this, so decided to just ask plainly, “are you regressed at the moment?” 

“Ugh no. Ok yeah fine, I am, whatever but it’s not even a big deal, I’m not even a baby or anything. I’m basically an adult and I’m definitely way more responsible and reasonable and smarter right now than any of them have ever been.” 

Ben was stumped. Not only did he not realise Jenn regressed, but he also had extremely limited experience with teen regression. Before he could reply, Jenn noticed April and spoke first. 

“Is she regressed too?”

April stepped out from where she was hidden and nodded, though she did grab onto Ben’s hand- clearly slightly intimidated. Although Andy was almost always older than April was, April had never been around an older girl.

“Do you have to stay here all day as well?” April asked, confidence growing when Ben squeezed her hand. 

“Yep” she popped the p.

April’s eyes widened in excitement.

“Da, please please can I play with Jennifer today?” It seemed her previous upset with Ben was completely forgotten. Jenn was older and kinda mean which in April’s eyes made her really cool. 

Ben hesitated. Whilst he realistically couldn’t stop them hanging out together and wouldn’t want to stop April having fun, he knew Jenn could be intense and often quite loud, and Ben was somewhat worried that April might get overwhelmed and Jenn wouldn’t be able to help. 

The meeting was due to start in only a minute now, so Ben really couldn’t stay deliberating any longer. 

“Yes you can, so long as you behave and stay with Jenn and don’t leave.” April nodded excitedly.

“Jenn, I’m gonna show you my evil torture prison dungeon on Minecraft.”

Once April had run over to her desk to retrieve her stuff, Ben turned to Jenn.

“Look, Jenn, I really need to run off now but you have my number right? If anything happens or she needs me please let me know? I’ll let the others know I’m waiting on a doctor’s call. She’s never been without one of us before and I guess I just really worry about her, she might be a bit high-maintenance today.”

Jenn just rolled her eyes at him. “Please, you’re so lame, it’s not like I’m going to let her loose on the streets, we’ll be fine. I’ll let you know if there’s an emergency.” 

“Thank you so much Jenn. Have fun, April!” He called back as he all but sprinted away. 

Pushing her own chair out from behind it’s desk, Jenn pulled another round next to it, patting it to invite April over. 

“Come over here and show me your prison then, kid.”

… 

April had a ton of fun showing Jennifer the different rooms in her prison. The one where the pistons pushed the chickens into the lava pit made the older girl snort with laughter, and April was so excited about Jenn thinking it was cool that she even let her push a few chickens into the lava herself. 

Once Jenn had received a full tour of not just April’s prison but also her castle with all of her pets and the rocket that Andy had insisted on building, Jenn decided it was her turn to show April a game. April had never played a fashion dress-up game before but she quickly found that she absolutely loved picking the worst outfits and hairstyles possible, and then laughing at how stupid the models looked. The robotic announcement of the in-game judge- “te-rri-ble! Zero stars!”- in particular sent her into an uncontrollable fit of giggles, and had her repeating “te-rri-ble” and “Zero stars!” for the next twenty minutes with the same annunciation as the man in the game. 

A little later on, the two were sat on the ground playing dolls. Or more accurately, Jenn was passionately explaining the intricate web of drama between her dolls whilst April rocked back and forth with her head on her knees, listening enraptured to the story whilst she mouthed along with Jenn’s words as she had done earlier with the audiobook.

“And then, just after Eleanore found out that her dad was going to jail for breaking into the city records office to destroy her popstar best friend’s birth certificate and erase her from existence, she also found out that her boyfriend Jake had been lying about being her boyfriend and he was actually an undercover robber all along trying to steal her diamonds!” 

“Then what happened??” April was entirely invested.

“Then Eleanore called her other best friend- Cindy, the karate champion- and she fought Jake by-”

“by using her secret evil witch powers to turn him into a tiny beetle and trapping him in a jar until he says sorry and agrees to be her servant forever!” 

“Well actually first she karate kicked him in the head but sure then she trapped him as a beetle.”

“And then he lived in Eleanore’s dungeon forever and ever and had to bring her and her friends cake and presents and new pet sharks every single day!”

“Yeah, sure, kid!” Jenn agreed, slightly thrown off after having her well planned out storyline derailed by April, but not particularly upset about it. 

“Hey, wanna hear a secret?” Jenn leaned close to April conspiratorially.

“Yes, yes, tell me!” gasped April.

“Well, I’ve got a whole bag of chocolate in my desk from back when I was working in Pawnee. And I know your Dad would probably say no because he’s probably packed you a lunch with like fruit and stuff, but he isn’t here so he’d never find out… do you want some?” 

This was the most exciting thing that had happened to April since Andy visited DC, and she was too eager to even speak, instead nodding enthusiastically and clenching and unclenching her fists at her sides. 

Ben in fact did find out. Even if not for the empty wrappers conspicuously flowing over the top of the bin, the sight of April giggling and propelling herself round and round in the desk chair as her hands flapped were obvious signs that April was on a sugar high.

“Hey, guys, I’ve got thirty minutes off for lunch, but something tells me you’ve already had a feast.” Ben sighed but ultimately wasn’t angry with the pair. He knew today was probably difficult for both of them, so he was glad they were at least having some fun.

“What? No. We didn’t have any feasts, you’re lying.” April was an awful liar, and Jenn had to suppress the laughter that had started the moment she was sure Ben wasn’t about to get annoyed at her. 

“Oh you haven’t? Well then I’m sure there’s lots of room in your tummy for lunch?” Ben smirked.

April, unable to continue her lie, simply huffed and crossed her arms. After making sure had a drink and a bathroom break, Ben did convince her to eat at least half of her sandwich and some grapes. She sat on his lap to eat whilst Jenn sat beside them picking at her own lunch. 

Ben had to keep reminding April not to chew and talk at the same time as she immediately went into an explanation of everything the two of them had gotten up to that morning. However, by the end of the thirty minutes, April had fully crashed down from both the sugar high and the emotional high of the morning. Knowing one of the smaller rooms attached to the main office had a couch inside, Ben decided to try and get April to nap earlier than initially planned. 

In anticipation for the meeting, April had worn comfortable leggings and a long sleeved t-shirt so luckily Ben didn’t need to get her to change into something she’d actually sleep in. All he needed to do was fetch her blanket and whatever stuffie was currently in her bag- which ironically was Jenn, her monkey.

It didn’t take long at all for April to drift off, and Ben gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before he left to resume the meeting, but not before quickly stopping by Jennifer on his way out.

“The meeting should last roughly another four hours, she’ll probably stay down for at least half of that time, and once she wakes up, just to get her to stick a movie on her tablet or something.” 

Jenn nodded, attention split between Ben and the Monster High dress-up game she was playing. 

“Yep”

“Thank you again so much, Jenn, remember call me-”

“Yes, I will call you if there’s an emergency. You’re already late getting back.” Jenn snickered as Ben noticed the time, and like he had earlier, sprinted out.

…

Ben had been right in his estimate, and about two hours later, April stirred from her nap. 

She was immediately disoriented, taking a few seconds to remember where she was, and where Ben was. Upon recalling her morning, April had the distinct thought that whilst she loved hanging out with Jenn, she kind of just wanted her Dad and to go home now. She wasn’t going to cry about it. though. She knew that Da really couldn’t abandon the meeting and had asked her to behave whilst he was gone. Yes, she could be a big girl and play with Jenn again and behave and not cry, though all her earlier enthusiasm seemed to have left her. 

When Jenn heard shuffling footsteps from across the room she looked up to see April, hair frizzy on one side, and holding her orange monkey. The subdued expression that revealed the girl’s change in demeanour set Jenn on edge slightly, as she tried to decide how best to handle this. 

“Hey April” she winced as the girl startled at the sudden loudness of her voice, consciously softening her tone as she continued. “Wanna do some colouring?” 

After a beat, April nodded. Stopping by her own desk on the way first and retrieving a green chewy toy which she immediately put in her mouth, April hesitantly walked over to Jenn. The blanket trailing behind the girl made her look a bit like a snail, and the thought made her smile. 

April didn’t want to accidentally make a mess of the picture Jenn was colouring, so she decided to make a start on the other page. It was a picture of two girls sat together in a coffee shop. April thought this seemed boring, but the idea to give them purple skin and red eyes and make them drink neon yellow radioactive coffee did sound fun.

April wasn’t the biggest fan of colouring. She would get very frustrated when she went out of the lines, and would often abandon a picture altogether in response. She didn’t want to waste any of Jenn’s colouring pages though, so she picked up a light purple pencil and started very carefully filling in the picture.  

Ann once told her that colouring was a calming strategy to help deal with big loud emotions. April hadn’t understood that. It was too quiet and still- leaving nothing to combat the loud emotions she was trying to avoid, and some types of pens made bad squeaky noises on the paper, and combined with the aforementioned frustration of having to start a new picture every time one went wrong made colouring a surprisingly overwhelming activity for April. 

She tried to stop thinking about missing Da and focus on the picture but tears sprung to her eyes, blurring her vision. Not being able to properly see the page, April accidentally ended up colouring in some of the table purple by accident. But April had to carry on. She had to behave and making a fuss and leaving Jenn’s book with an unfinished picture because she was overreacting was not being well behaved. 

These swirling thoughts brought more tears to her eyes and thus, more mistakes on the page. A moment later, Jenn noticed the tears about to spill down April’s face and started to panic, unsure of what had caused this reaction. 

“Hey, April? Kid, are you ok?” In response, April only nodded, Jenn was cool, she couldn’t know April was being a big baby and crying about messing up a picture and missing her Dad. That was stupid and not cool.

Changing tactic, Jenn tried to steer the conversation to the picture April was colouring in, not expecting that this was in any way related to the problem. 

At the mention of the colouring, April choked out a gasping sob as her emotions boiled over. She threw the pencil down with force, a purple dot now stood out against the girl on the paper’s still-white eye, which made April cry harder. 

“Oh, uh, is it the colouring that’s upsetting you? What’s wrong with it?” 

[April was now pressing her nails into her arms in a way that Jenn thought had to be somewhat painful, though she refrained from intervening terrified of making it worse, unsure if April would want to be touched. April’s crying unnerved Jenn slightly- her choked, strained gasps and low whines sounding nothing like how Jenn’s little sister used to cry, and for a moment Jenn worried that the girl was having some sort of asthma attack, her sobs seeming more pained than emotional. ]

“Bad colouring. Terrible, terrible, terrible.” Jenn would’ve snickered at the reappearance of the earlier vocal stim if not for April’s failure to communicate otherwise indicating how distressed she truly was.

Jenn felt awful. April had been excited to hang out earlier and she had assured Ben that April would be fine and now she wasn’t and she didn’t even know what went wrong. She suddenly felt very out of her depth, despite being older than April, she was still regressed herself, after all, and she was not equipped to deal with the situation. 

Shakily reaching for her phone, she decided that this probably counted as an emergency. She glanced at April while the call connected, making sure she wasn’t at any physical risk, which she didn’t immediately seem to be, having thankfully removed her nails from her arms in favour of clutching the soft fur of her toy monkey. Ben, predictably, picked up barely a moment after it started ringing, and she heard a muffled “I really have to take this” over the top of some light murmuring, followed by an opening and closing door, and then just silence punctuated by Ben’s heavy breathing.

“Jennifer? Are you two ok? Is April ok?”

“I don’t know, Ben. I’m so sorry. She woke up and was all… quiet and we were colouring and she was crying I think? And when I asked her what was wrong, she started crying harder and I think… she seems really overwhelmed but I don’t know why.” Jenn rattled off in nearly one breath. 

“It’s ok, Jenn, is she safe?” Ben tried to keep the panic out of his voice as he ran to the office. Jenn nodded, before realising he couldn’t see her nod, and replied “yeah, I think so.”

Ben soon arrived and ran straight over to where April stood swaying as she skittishly shifted from one foot to the other. 

“Hey, Pril, shh. I’m here. Can you open your eyes for me, sweetheart?” 

April opened her eyes, and once she registered Ben stood in front of her, she all but collapsed into him. 

Catching her, he lowered them both down, swiped the blanket from where it was discarded a few feet away, and wrapped her up tightly in it. He gently rocked her back and forth, knowing the gentle, repetitive movement would help ground her. 

“Da, terrible!” she whined in between gasps.

“Shhh, I know, Pril. Just keep doing deep breaths for me.”

April nodded, dropping her head to lean against him so she could fully focus more on her breathing. Her Da was here now and the emotions in her head were getting quieter and quieter. 

Jenn wasn’t really sure how to help. She spotted the chewy toy discarded on the floor and picked it up, quickly running to wash it off. 

When she arrived back, she wasn’t entirely sure if either of the other two had noticed she’d left so she nervously cleared her throat.

“Uhm, I washed this off. For if April wanted it.” She held out the toy which Ben gratefully took, he gave it to April who immediately started chewing on it again, letting out a shaky but calm sigh.

“Thank you so much, Jenn.” Ben smiled at the older girl who clearly felt very lost in the situation. 

Then he tilted his head down to look at April. “I still have 30 minutes until I can leave, are you ok here until then, Pril?” 

“Go home straight after?” She asked.

“I promise we’ll go home as soon as the meeting’s over.”

“Will Jenn stay until then?” she asked with a slight hopeful tone. 

Ben looked up at Jenn who nodded assuredly, relief flashed across her face with the confirmation that April wasn’t upset at her.

“Yeah, she’ll stay with you.” 

Deciding the easiest thing to do was to pull up a movie for April to watch, Ben went about setting the tablet up.

“Do you want your headphones, Pril?”

“No. Jenn needs to hear too.” Both Ben and Jenn smiled at that.

Eventually, Ben left to finish the last half hour of the meeting and Jenn and April were left together, sitting side by side on the floor with April’s tablet in front of them. 

A couple of minutes in, Jenn noticed April twisting her fingers together and panicked once more thinking she was getting overwhelmed again. 

“April? Do you need me to get your Da again?” 

She wasn’t expecting the reply April gave- “Can I sit on your lap? Please?” she looked down, obviously nervous to ask, and Jenn sighed in relief.

“Yep” Jenn popped the p as she had earlier which made April smile. Jenn stretched her legs out and still holding her monkey, April moved to sit in the space. Jenn gently rewrapped the black blanket around the younger girl, making sure to include April’s monkey in the bundle. 

“Your monkey looks nice and cozy in there.” Commented Jenn.

April nodded in response. “She has your name.”

That was not what Jenn expected to hear. “Wait, does she really?” 

April nodded again. “Got her in DC and you’re from DC so she’s called Jenn.” 

It was so sweet that Jenn didn’t even feel it necessary to comment that she was actually from Chicago not DC. 

“Well, it is a spectacular name.” 

This time April’s nod wasn’t accompanied by any following comment so Jenn let the silence settle between them. 

From her position with April’s beck to her front, Jenn couldn’t exactly see April’s face. However, after five minutes with no sound or movement from the girl, Jenn was certain she’d fallen asleep, and made it her own mission to stay stock-still until Ben returned.

When he did, only ten minutes later, Jenn was barely awake herself. The soft lull of the movie and the weight of the younger girl in her lap relaxing her after the stress of the day. 

When Ben returned and saw the two girls so obviously exhausted, he had to refrain from taking a photo to remember it, knowing Jenn would likely try and find a way to sue him for it later. Whilst the scene was undoubtedly very sweet, Ben’s heart did pang with the realisation that April clearly hadn’t been getting enough sleep recently, explaining her sluggishness that morning, and almost definitely contributing to the day’s upset. He sighed, not wanting to disturb either of them, but equally wanting to honour his promise to April to take her home as soon as possible. 

“Girls?” he half-whispered. Jenn cracked her weary eyes open whilst April offered only a grumble.

“I know you’re super comfy there but it is time to go home now.” Hearing this, April slowly got up and moved over to Ben, immediately leaning all her weight against him- she was practically dead on her feet. 

Jenn also got up, noticing the colleague she was getting a lift home with entering the office.

“I gotta go too now.” She informed the others. “Bye April, play another time?” 

April looked up, nodded, and extracted herself from Ben’s arms to throw herself into a tight hug with Jenn. 

“Bye bye, Jenn. Thank you for playing and being cool.” 

“Any time, kid.” 

April was practically asleep again by the time Ben got her buckled into the car. With the promise of a future playdate from Jenn, and a quiet Da & Pril evening and a call to Leslie and Andy from Ben, April curled up in the passenger seat with monkey-Jenn in her arms, and finally felt calm.

[angelpuns]

HOW DO YOU DO IT!

I'm over here struggling just to finish the gifs for my second panel of my comic, and you're here shoving them out!

I've been working on some of them over the course of a few weeks actually :') I just managed to finish a bunch this weekend since I wasn't really doing much else haha I also had them queued but then I accidentally messed up the queue so it like ;-; posted a bunch at once?

As for Kid Leo though I do 21 panels a page and do each step in the process as like? Idk how to explain it but one day I do lineatt, the next I do color etc so it helps with the workload :3 I've gotten a bit faster with practice + knowing how much I can get done on a certain step and allocating time for it ( coloring takes the longest cause it is so boring and I hate it so I usually spend a couple of days in a row on that )

Animated panels sound really time consuming!!! but also cool asf!!!!

[eteisvalssi]

gig report london 11.4.2024

now that i'm back home and stuck inside for a couple of days bc of bovid, i can finally finish my gig report from london! it's gonna be a long one 😅

i won't be getting too much into how i traveled to london bc the story is long, but let's just say that i would arrange it differently now that i experienced it

in london i met up with @joyuntold, who was my roommate for the two nights! kiitos for letting me tag along with you <3 we had so much fun just yapping the night before the concert that i almost forgot how tired i was at that point 😂

i hadn't slept in well over 24 hours so i went to sleep at 8pm local time and had a good night's sleep before going queueing so that i could stay there for the whole day after i'd gotten my number

the queue had already started the day before because of a misunderstanding and it being posted on social media, which caused the word to spread and suddenly everyone was getting their numbers and just going away for several hours. can we please just not do this?

i did have a fun time in the queue though! there were a lot of familiar faces but i just got really shy with my english for some reason and felt very awkward not talking, so i hung out with my finns a lot during the day

but everyone i talked to that day like overall was just super nice once again! i met and talked to a few mutuals too!

the first band member we saw was jure, he walked past the queue and we all just said hi to him

jan and nace came to the venue together shortly after. i waved at them and nace waved back :)

i didn't see the other band members come to the venue but we did see the family guštin walk by a couple of times

the ee line worked so well, we formed the number queue ourselves and the crowd management worked really well for us. there were multiple lines formed for every type of ticket, but i heard that the ga line was not as successful

i had already lost my hope for barricade on jan and nace's side with how many people there were in the queue before me, but i literally got the perfect spot on the barricade and didn't even have to run for it!

when we got inside i had already completely forgotten about the soundcheck so i was actually surprised when they came on stage 😅 they played astp and proti toku

roots & wings were fun, they were just trying really hard and that was kinda adorable :)

elle coves was amazing! hadn't listened to her songs at all beforehand but i really enjoyed it!

they played the gola setlist and i do get why it's their favorite one

kris especially was on fire during the gig!! idk if it was because his family was there but he gave his everything on stage

we got the demoni scream!!!

also idk what was in padam that night but bojan was really living it and i really felt it and got literal goosebumps

i remember there being a moment when i was like the jance shippers are gonna eat this one up, but i'm too feverish to remember what it was rn

we had a surprise guest on stage! louie starkey, grandson of ringo starr, came on stage during umazane misli and did his own solo.

a finnish translation of umazane misli was also sung that night by yours truly <3 i have no memory from that moment but i just saw a video of it and bojan showed a thumbs up to the band when i started singing 😂 btw if anyone else has any footage from that moment, i would love to see more!

we were like there's no way they're not gonna play ssol and were kinda shocked that it was not on the setlist, but of course they came to play it as an extra encore

after the gig i stayed at the barricade and kiki came over to give the setlists and i got one <3 that was the first time i'd even tried to get one so i was kinda surprised to get it, but it's now on the wall next to my photos i got printed :)

when we went outside there were a lot of people waiting and bojan did come to greet us quickly and take the picture he posted on instagram

i waited for a while but my feet were hurting so much from standing all day that i called it a day just a bit too early and just went to the hotel

the next day i found out that if i'd literally walked back towards the venue with the others instead of leaving to the hotel i would've met some of them 😅

my next two days were spent exploring london, we went to camden town with a friend i'd met before at a gig but we only got to know each other in london! and on saturday i was on a bus on my way to london and it was a sunny day and suddenly sunny side of london started playing from my playlist and that felt so good

overall it was a very fun experience! i got to meet so many cool people, i saw my favorite band yet again, i sung in finnish at fucking shepherd's bush empire, i basically traveled solo for the first time and it went very well. i'm really glad i decided to go :)

also i joked about getting bovid from the gig when i was feeling kinda stuffy and tired yesterday and today i tested positive with covid 🤠

[marmiteprinter]

*Sidles back in awkwardly after yet another unexpectedly long absence*

Long text post incoming so I've put it under a cut!

Yeah... sorry about that! I was looking back at Round 11 of Wildflats Peninsula a couple of months ago and I realised that it had taken me over a year to get through it and it still wasn't finished, so I just sort of lost interest.

I'm still feeling pretty burned out on it, to be honest, so I've been playing Pleasantview and Early Strangetown just for fun without taking any pictures of them and it's been really refreshing. I've also spent the last couple of months making spreadsheets of all of my defaults, which of course led to an overhaul of my defaults folders because that's just how my brain works!

I managed to push through the other day and completely finished Round 11 - it was only the uni houses left to go - so I'll post those pics over the next few days, and then I think Wildflats will have to go on official hiatus for a while because I'm still not keen on properly returning to it right now.

I've revamped my BACC rules and I'll probably start another neighbourhood from the beginning just to scratch that BACC itch. I may or may not post pics of that here but, if I do, I think I'll try and update my writing style a bit because I tend to want to chronicle every single event in my Sims' lives, and write dialogue for them, but it gets quite overwhelming at times!

In the meantime, I've played a couple of rounds of my ISBI challenge so I'll queue up some updates of that!

TL;DR - I'm still alive, Wildflats is going on hiatus for a while, and I'll post some other stuff in the meantime!