#dentist Fall River

[shellshocklove]

brat two: i might say something stupid | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x brat!female!reader – no outbreak

summary: joel is continuing to have a brat summer.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap, enemies to lovers vibes? swearing, use of pet names, smut, brat taming?, dom!joel, some daddy!joel, manhandling, some light bondage, a little exhibitionism? a little dacryphilia, praise, degradation (whore, slut), some sub space territory, edging, creampie, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!), no use of y/n

a/n: ok, so a part two to this!! i’m giving reader a backstory in this so if that’s not your cup of tea and prefer the reader to be a blank slate, then maybe this isn’t for you. as always i wanna give a little shout out to @dustydaddyyy for always helping me when i'm stuck! <3 i know it's demure fall soon, but there's still some brat summer left, so happy reading! 💚

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

Joel.

Joel. Joel. Joel.

Joel Miller.

Miller. Miller. Miller.

The cicadas rattled in the breeze coming through the window of your childhood bedroom. It was hotter than Satan’s ass crack, and sleep couldn’t pull you under. The hem seam of your ratty sleep shirt was fraying, and you couldn’t keep yourself from picking at it – pulling at the threat.

Pull, pull, pull.

Joel Miller. That was his name on the mailbox, but he’d only told you Joel. Just Joel.

Yes, sir. Please, Daddy. Bye, Joel.

With a huff you sat up, your back resting against the headboard as your eyes rolled over the darkened room. The shadows shapeshifted before your eyes like ghosts, and you wondered if you deserved to be haunted.

It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours.

You could still feel the phantom stretch of his cock inside you, and your cheeks were sore from his spanking, but it was nothing compared to your thoughts plagued by him.

God, you felt crazy, like a little girl with a school crush on the teacher.

Except, you didn’t have crushes, didn’t like, or fall in love, with anyone. People had a crush on you, people fell in love with you, people liked you.

Biting down on the soft skin of the inside of your cheek, you ripped away the thin blanket covering your bottom half as your feet touched the cold hardwood floor.

The switch on your bedside lamp clicked as the warm glow seemed to scare the ghosts away. The ratty shirt fell over your knees as you walked across the room and flung open the door. A triangle of light cut the hardwood floor in two as you made your way down the hall and stairs. The slapping of bare feet against wood echoed against the tall ceiling, and eyes followed you from the faces on the wall.

Stepping into the kitchen, you were alone. Pierre had left right after dinner, and Eva had left early with her daughter. You didn’t like to keep them longer than needed, especially on weekends. Your father would pay them the same, anyway – and it was just you here.

You hated the other house. It was no place to live, it was a place of business, for politics. You hated this house too, but for other reasons – too many memories, plastered on smiles and lies. The dentist had told you to start wearing a night guard when they divorced, but you’d stopped wearing it when you went to college.

Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, you made your way over to the fridge. Your whole body felt heavy, your head rolling off your shoulder when something caught your eye in the backyard.

It was gone.

“Shit.”

An ice cube escaped the rim of your glass and split into a thousand pieces on the tiled floor. You pulled your glass from the dispenser in the fridge, and hunkered down, ice melting between your fingers.

With a sigh you watched the splintered ice vanish, dripping in an erratic rhythm that added to the small puddle on the floor. You didn’t want to feel like this. Why were you feeling like this?

You left the glass of ice on the counter– let the ice melt on the floor and escaped through the sliding doors into the backyard. The sky was bright with light pollution over the trees, and everywhere the buzzing of cicadas filled your ears. With a sigh, you fell into one of the chairs, the cushion stiff against your back as your eyes landed on the large oak. You trailed your eyes over the branches, the one’s you’d known every crook and cranny of when you were a child.

It was gone.

The small crooked, and probably dangerous, treehouse where you’d spent so many hours hiding away as a child. Not that they ever noticed, your parents, too busy yelling at each other to see where their daughter had vanished.

Of course it was gone.

Gone, like the happy little girl you’d used to be. And what had taken her place? A party girl? A mess of a woman hiding behind the disguise of a sharp tongue?

Jesus Christ, you needed to get your shit together. Distract yourself– pull yourself away from all the feelings you couldn’t control.

Shifting uncomfortably, you fished your phone from where it had drowned in the cushions. The bright blue light burned your eyes as you scrolled, pulling you from everything real to unreality. Plastered on smiles and perfect bodies, sunny beaches, and aesthetic photos. You handed out hearts like they cost nothing, and pretended you hadn’t seen your DMs.

Still, you couldn’t shake the thought of him. The way the weight of him had felt over you, how he’d spoken, voice rough and commanding, but still playful. It was like you were guided by a puppeteer when your thumb hovered over the google search.

Joel Miller.

You didn’t know what you’d expected – Joel Miller wasn’t a one in a million name, and now you were scrolling through every Joel Miller famous enough to throne at the top of a google search. But, you weren’t going to give up that easily. You moved on to Facebook. He was old, he’d have to have one.

Bingo.

There he was. A few years younger, his hair a little messy, smiling bright. His profile was private, and you sure as hell weren’t sending him a friend request, but something inside you screamed to know more about the man you’d let come inside you less than twenty-four hours ago.

You tried to click your way through his pictures, but there was nothing to see. Next, you tried the about page: Lives in Austin, Texas (this you obviously already knew)… born September 26th… Male… Single… You felt a smile tug at the corners of your mouth, as you continued to scroll... Works for Miller Contracting… And finally, his family: Tommy Miller.

His brother’s profile needed a lesson in internet safety. This man shared everything and all for strangers to see. You flicked through photos of neighborhood cookouts, date nights with his soon to be wife, the same graduation pictures of a girl you’d seen hanging on Joel’s wall.

‘Proudest uncle in the world! Congratulations, Sarah Miller! 😄❤️ The smartest and most talented Miller! 🙌’

Your finger hovered over his daughter’s name, curiosity gnawing at your insides. Shaking your head, you clicked away. You could own up to stalking his Facebook, and his brother had basically invited you to stalk, but his daughter? It felt like crossing a line you couldn’t come back from. Back on Tommy’s profile you noticed he also worked for Miller Contracting.

A family business.

Continuing your research, you clicked through to the business’ profile. The profile looked to be run by Tommy, with frequent updates on projects they’d worked on, from renovations to outdoor landscaping, to new condos, Miller Contracting had a broad resume, but the contact person was set to one Joel Miller.

A thought tickled at the back of your brain then, and your gaze flicked from your phone to the low-lit backyard. A smile you couldn’t fight back pulled at your lips.

The sun beat down on the men as they worked. A bright yellow dot in the clear blue sky. From your bedroom window you watched them, how they’d turned the previous green patch of grass into a deep moldy hole.

Convincing your father had been easy enough; he’d shrugged, and given his default answer to pretty much any request you had, which was a bored ‘Yes, sweetie.’ For years now, the rule of thumb with your dad had been: as long as you didn’t bother him and his busy schedule, he didn’t care what you did. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. As long as nothing you did reflected badly on him, and especially on the carefully curated image of ‘loving family man’ his constituents seemed to love so much, he didn’t care. The Governor of Texas couldn’t have his daughter’s bad decisions cost him votes, after all.

Your mother had always said it, always complained over her extra dry martinis, that your father only cared about one thing in his life, and it wasn’t his family. Your face soured as you thought about it. 

Votes. 

Your mother hadn’t been right about a lot of things in your life, but she had been right about this. Votes, and power. That’s all he’d ever cared about. It had been like that ever since you were a child, and over time, you’d learned to exploit that fact like you would a weakness, holding it as leverage over his head if he ever told you no, which he naturally never did. The agreement was silent, but clear as day; as long as you got your way, you would cater to his image, and behave. 

And you did; showed up when needed with a smile that hurt your cheeks, kept up his image, and in turn you got your way.

The swimming pool was just another ask in a long line of wishes. He’d questioned you at first, ‘You want to build a pool in the middle of summer?’ The pool you didn’t care for, it was the men who’d build it. You’d given your father your look, the one where you tipped your head down slightly, bit your bottom lip and looked at him with doe-y eyes. He’d had a landscape architect draw up something for you by the end of the week, and by Monday he’d had the city approve the changes to the premises. He’d given you a rise of his eyebrow when you’d pitched the contractors you wanted for the job, but nevertheless, he’d put his assistant on the job right away.

They’d arrived bright and early this morning, their shouts over loud machines pulling you from your slumber. You’d pulled your pillow over your head, dying to catch some more Z’s, it was summer break after all, but the pull of seeing him again was too strong. The excitement bubbled in your chest, and a satisfied grin spread across your face when you’d realized your plan had worked.

Joel Miller was in your backyard, standing under the oak tree with his hands on his hip, as he carefully watched over his crew. His work clothes fit him just as well as the t-shirt and jeans he’d worn at the club, but he looked less polished– his hair messier with a carpenter’s pencil tucked behind his hair. Your eyes trailed over him from where you watched from the house, how he moved about the site, helped his men when needed, evaluating every step, studying the drawings carefully as he ordered his men around with the same authority you’d come to know him for after the night you’d spent together.

If all of this went well, you’d have him again.

“Looking good, guys! But it’s a bit loud,” you shouted over the excavator, one arm raised to shade your eyes from the sun from where you stood at the edge of the veranda.

You watched how the men milled about, squinting up from their work at you. Their gazes lingered over your body, they weren’t subtle about it, and the little outfit you’d thrown together seemed to do its job, a short summer skirt with a matching top– it was hot out in the Texan sun, and you wanted to make it hotter.

“We’ve been disturbin’ your beauty sleep, princess?” One of the men spoke up, and your eyes narrowed at his use of the pet name. His grin was too confident, hiding his laugh between his teeth. You set your eyes on him and gave him a pitying look.

“Yes, actually! It’s hard work looking this good, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” you snapped back. A sound of snickering laughs from the men at their coworker’s expense could be heard through the yard, and you felt a saccharine smile cover your face.

“So, who’s in charge of all this noise anyway?” you asked, voice bored, when the laughter had died.

“You gotta take that up with Miller,” another one of the men replied, your first victim quickly forced into silence.

“And who’s that?”

The man nodded his head in the direction of the man you’d weaved into your web. He didn’t look impressed where he stood under the shade of the oak tree watching you. He had his arms crossed over his broad chest, the fabric stretching around his biceps, as he shook his head at you as you walked closer.

“Mr. Miller.” You couldn’t help the pleased smile spreading across your face.

Clasping your hands loosely behind your back as you pushed your chest out innocently, you slowly stepped closer, his jaw clenching tighter with each of your careful steps through the grass.

“We’ll try ‘nd keep the noise down f’ya until nine am, Miss, but after that we’ll need to use our bigger tools if ya want this done before the summer ends.” He kept his voice steady and professional, his southern drawl like soft silk in your ears. His eyes never left your face once, even with the deep neckline of your top.

Standing a little too close to him, to be considered appropriate for someone who you’d just met, your teeth caught on your bottom lip coquettishly. “Oh, I want you to use your big tool that’s for sure.” It sounded ridiculous, and you had to bite down harder to keep from bursting out laughing.

Joel didn’t seem to think it was funny. Something flickered in his gaze, before it hardened, eyes boring into yours as he asked you through his teeth, “Whatchu think your doin’, huh?”

You shrugged playfully with an exaggerated sigh, “I don’t know, Mr. Miller, isn’t it obvious?”

“Oh, ‘s obvious alright.” He shook his head in disbelief, and looked away for a beat, before his eyes found yours again.

“It’s so hot out this summer,” you continued your jest with a hooked finger along the hem of your shirt, tugging at it, “I just wanted something to cool down.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “‘m sure you did.”

Continuing your game, you widened your eyes in an attempt at feigning innocence, “But I don’t mind breaking a sweat if need be.”

“’nd how do you like to break a sweat, princess?” he asked, putting pressure on the nick name his men had given you.

“Oh, I think you already know that, Mr. Miller.”

Joel’s eyes hardened as the flirty words fell from your lips. Shifting his weight from one leg to the other he raised a finger at you. “Listen’ up, brat,” he told you in a lowered voice, “Ain’t nothin’ more happenin’ between us, you understand? It’s inappropriate– you’re my employer and I don’t do that shit.”

It was almost too easy. Biting back a smile, your thoughts wandered back to the last time you’d had him like this; riled up, and willing to put you in your place. A slick wetness coated the gusset of your panties, already, at the thought.

“I understand, Daddy.”

With a sigh Joel turned away from you with a shake of his head, muttering under his breath, “You’re ridiculous.” 

You were, he was right. But it was so fun. 

A smirk tugged at your lips when he turned back to look at you. He wanted to say something, you could see it in the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his hands fidgeting on his hip, but he changed his mind as he shook his head again. 

Victory had never tasted so sweet.

All week you’d played a game of cat and mouse with Joel. One day you’d ignored him completely as you flirted with the crew, exaggerating your laugh at jokes that weren’t even close to being funny, and touching too many sweaty biceps to count. Then the next you never left him alone, buzzing like a mosquito in his ear asking all kinds of silly questions, slipping in an innuendo or two, and teasing him for a reaction other than an annoyed grunt.

He’d have to break at some point. You could see it in his eyes. He might play the annoyance up, but there was a softness to the way he looked at you. It was there– you weren’t making that up!

The sound of the juicer buzzed in your ear as you chewed on your lip. Your hand rested lazily on the kitchen counter as you stole glances out the window as you waited. Pierre was quiet as he worked, only throwing a curious glance your way every once in a while, as he mixed together the jug of lemonade you’d requested.

The day had scorched since early morning, and you’d had no choice but to throw on your skimpiest bikini. A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth at the thought – well, there was more appropriate outfits for this heat, but you didn’t want that.

What you wanted, was to get your brains fucked out.

You’d played all your cards right, but nothing had seemed to make Joel simmer over with a need to put you in your place again. In the need for a new plan, you hoped showing off your body to all his men while serving them a nice cold glass of lemonade would do the trick, hoping he’d get jealous. The pool had already started to take shape, and your time was starting to run out.

“Here you go, ma belle,” Pierre slid a newly filled jug of ice-cold lemonade down towards you over the marble, “let me know if you need anything else, yes?”

Nodding your head in gratitude, you lifted the jug onto the tray you’d prepared, “Merci, Pierre.”

Slipping carefully through the sliding doors you made your way across the veranda to place the tray on the outdoor dining table. The tray was heavy, and you moved fast to make sure you didn’t spill the lemonade all over yourself.

“HEY BOYS!” you shouted over the sound of the heavy machinery, waving a lazy hand at them, beckoning them closer like a siren. “I hope you’re thirsty,” you laughed.

A low whistle could be heard as they came closer. Eyes lingering on your skin, trailing over your body as they gathered around the table, helping themselves to the citrus-y delight.

“If this ain’t the sweetest thing I think a client has ever done for us,” Tommy smiled as he helped himself to a glass, “You mind if I take a picture of this setup? To post on our Facebook page.”

You shook your head, “Take as many pictures as you like,” you told him, but your eyes wandered.

Joel had hung back, walking slower behind the rest of his crew, and was finally walking up the couple steps to the veranda. His work boots echoed over the planks as he walked closer. He didn’t seem happy as he locked eyes with you, his eyes quickly rolling over your almost naked body.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, you poured him a glass; the ice cubes splashing as you poured, cold drops splashing and coating the skin of your exposed chest. Joel pretended he didn’t notice, but you saw the way he looked at you. You’d seen that look so many times, eyes hungry and desperate for something they knew they couldn’t have, shouldn’t have. The only difference this time was that you’d let Joel do whatever he wanted to you.

“Here, Mr. Miller–”

Your voice was cut off by the sound of a phone ringing at the loudest volume. The suddenness of the sound made you jump, spilling the glass of Joel’s lemonade all down your hand and chest.

“Yellow,” you heard Tommy shout into his phone.

“Oh, oops,” you said, your voice laced in an innocent laugh. Drops of sticky lemonade ran down your body, darkening the fabric of your bikini, and making your skin shine with wetness under the Austin sun.

Looking up from your body at Joel, your teeth caught on your bottom lip at the way his jaw clenched, his eyes running down your body like they were drops of lemonade. You laughed again, sugary sweet as you made a show of placing the glass on the table, spreading your arms like you didn’t know what to do.

“Y’need to be more careful, sweetheart,” Joel mumbled as he fumbled for some napkins from your tray.

You shook your head at him when he handed them to you, instead you ran a finger up your chest, catching the drops and sucking the cool drink from your fingers, slowly, licking up every drop. It was bold, and you couldn’t contain your giggle when Joel’s eyes widened at you. It was quick, the wave of shock at how blatantly you’d flirt with him like this, before it crashed into the shore with a stern look. The other men had to be looking too, you could feel the way their eyes burned your skin, but you only cared about one man’s warm eyes on your body.

“That was so clumsy of me,” you giggled, the laugh forced and too sweet, but it didn’t matter, Joel didn’t buy it either way.

“’m sorry ‘bout that,” Tommy’s voice boomed, as he hung up the phone, “It was the missus– or soon to be missus.”

“Oh, you’re getting married?” you queried, the lemonade soaking you forgotten now that the moment had been ruined. Beside you, Joel picked up the glass you’d tried to hand him, drying the sides with the superfluous napkins.

“Yes, ma’am,” Tommy beamed, “tyin’ the knot this Saturday in fact.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” you smiled, an idea popping up in the back of your head, “Congratulations!”

“Thank you, thank you,” he beamed, taking a big gulp of the lemonade.

“So…” You stepped closer to Tommy, leaning your hand against the table. Joel’s eyes followed you, you could feel it, so you sneakily popped your hips out, giving him a nice view of your ass. “What’s the plan? Big church wedding?”

Tommy laughed, “Don’t know ‘bout big– we’re doin’ one of those barn weddings, you know? Out on a ranch and everythin’, they got it all on those big ranches nowadays.”

“Really?” you smiled, “Which ranch?”

“Oh, it ain’t far! Only ‘bout a fifteen-twenty minutes’ drive from downtown. Pecan Grove Ranch it’s called. They even got these nice cabins on site, for accommodation– which is nice for close family and those who’ve traveled far. You know, Maria’s family ain’t from Texas, so we got lots of folks flyin’ in.”

“Is that her name? Maria?” you asked. The way Tommy’s face lit up when you mentioned her name made your heart squeeze.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “love of my life she is!”

“I need to talk to you.” Joel cut your conversation off while his hand snaked its way around your upper arm, tugging you lightly towards him. When you turned your head to look at him, one eyebrow raised, his face shifted into a deep frown. “’s ‘bout the tiles,” he grumbled.

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. Finally.

You excused yourself to Tommy, and let Joel drag you with him. Throwing your head back you watched how the rest of the crew enjoyed their small break in the shade sipping on Pierre’s lemonade.

Joel crossed the yard in big steps, making a beeline for the shed tucked away in the back corner of the yard. He pulled at the door harshly, like it couldn’t happen fast enough, and pushed you inside. The door to the shed slammed shut behind him and covered you both in a cool darkness. Your eyes relaxed as you adjusted from the bright daylight to the dim lighting – the only light coming through a small window almost completely overgrown with climbing vines. Joel’s grip around your arm loosened as he pushed you deeper inside.

Taking small steps, you looked around, eyes scanning over the room as a thought of how you couldn’t remember the last time you’d stepped a foot inside the shed crossed your mind. It was hidden away in the corner of the garden, overgrown in a tasteful way, like how you’d see in garden magazines. These days the only person who used it was the gardener, if the miscellaneous tools and garden machines were to be believed.

“Put your hands on the table,” Joel ordered, his voice a low hum.

Outside you could still hear the shouts of his men, laughter, as they lounged about on their break. Every one of his men had seen you step into the shed together, and the thought sent an electric bubbling feeling straight to your cunt.

“Y'got cotton in those ears, girl? Put your hands on the table.”

A shiver traveled through your body, and you had to bite down on your lip to hold back your smile. Finally, finally, finally. With your back turned to him, you shook your head slowly, daring him to put you in your place again.

And Joel took the bait.

His rough hand slid over your waist as he stepped closer. He let it glide across your exposed skin, the dried lemonade sticky as he teased you. His rough hand slid upwards, hooking a finger under your bikini strap, slowly, pulling at it before he unhooked it, letting it fall to the concrete floor.

“Aren’t you gonna behave, princess?” he spat out the new nickname. “Didn’t I teach ya last time what happens when you ain’t a good girl f’me?” The low bass of his voice ghosted over your ear and had your blood buzzing under your skin.

His rough hands continued to explore you, gentle touches over your skin, getting you worked up, but never where you wanted his hands the most. When he pressed himself against you, letting you feel the hard shape of him through his work pants, you let your head fall against his shoulder with a content sigh.

“No, Daddy,” you shook your head.

Joel couldn’t hold back his groan at that word. The gentle hands who’d explored your body, tightened across your chest, pressing you tight into his chest as he bucked his hips harshly into your ass.

“I think I did,” he spoke into your ear, “broke that pretty brain on my cock, didn’t I, and now that greedy cunt wants more, ain’t that right? Can’t get enough of this big cock?”

A breathy gasp escaped you when he bucked his hips against you again, and you shook your head.

“That’s what I thought.”

The speed at which he moved almost gave you a whiplash. He pushed you against the table along the wall, your hands coming down to brace yourself as he pressed your chest down and put your ass, covered only by your skimpy bikini bottoms, on display for him.

“Such a slut for cock she can’t be a big girl and ask for it– no, princess, you’re so desperate for it, you make me come all the way to your rich daddy’s house, bring my crew and everythin’ just so I’ll fuck you again.”

Joel laughed and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together. “That’s ‘nother level of desperate, ain’t it?”

You felt a heat spread across your face at his degradation, but it just turned you on more, and Joel knew it. He trailed a finger down between your cheeks, pressing down to feel how you’d soiled your bikini bottoms in your arousal.

“But that’s just what you are, aren’t you? A desperate whore dyin’ to get fucked?”

The hand between your legs vanished, and you braced yourself for a spanking, holding your breath as the excitement grew, but the slap of his rough hand never came. Instead, he unhooked a rope off the peg board in front of you.

You resisted a little when he grabbed your hands, slipping your hands from his grip playfully, your face turned to watch how his face grew sterner. The tired, disappointed sigh it earned you made you smile.

Gripping both your hands tightly, he crossed one wrist over the other before he tied them together at the small of your back, and you let it happen. Under your skin, the anticipation buzzed. With nothing to help you brace yourself, the hard surface of the table pressed harshly against your naked skin.

“Hey,” Joel’s voice was suddenly gentle as he cupped your face and turned you to face him, “you remember our rules?”

A small ache stung in your heart. Our.

You nodded, “I say ‘red’ or pinch you if I want you to stop.”

A pleased grin spread across his face as he tapped at your cheek gently, “That’s a good girl, baby.”

His hand slid down your body, from your face down your neck, from your neck over your shoulder, and then from your shoulder down your naked back. “How’s this?” he asked, hooking a finger under the rope, “Not too tight?”

You shook your head, or tried to, with the way your cheek was mushed against the table.

“Words, princess, need to hear ya say it f’me.”

The softness in his voice when the pet name left his lips, made a fluttering feeling bubble in your core, and it was hard to fight the grin from pulling at your lips.

“Am I your princess now?” you asked with fluttering eyelashes, “I thought I was your desperate slut?”

Behind you, you could hear Joel let out a deep sigh. A finger traced small circles over your ass, making goosebumps blossom over your skin, before it hooked into the band of your bikini bottoms, tugging them slowly down and exposing your wet cunt to him.

“You know,” Joel sighed again, pausing to let the sound of his fly being undone fill the space between you. You almost moaned at the sound, pushing your ass out, desperate for any kind of friction. “I was plannin’ on bein’ nice t’you, but now…”

The blunt head of him pressed against you, running it up and down your cunt, coating it in your slick arousal, and you almost held your breath. The anticipation like a fist around your chest. Your heart drummed in your chest, almost drowning out the wet slick sound between your legs.

“I don’t want you to be nice,” you almost whispered, your fist tightening around each other at the small of your back.

“I know, princess…” he whispered back, and pushed at your opening, “I know.”

He was too big, the girth of him splitting you in two on his cock. It burned deliciously, and you savored every inch he gave you until he was fully seated inside you. Only then were you able to whimper out a moan, your breath finally released.

His hands gripped your wrists like a handlebar, something to hold on to, something to guide you back and forth on his cock. He pushed himself even deeper, releasing a deep groan in your ear as he leaned over you, the weight of him heavenly as he made room for himself inside you, his heavy balls pressed against you.

This was what you’d wanted. Just to feel him again like this.

“Shit…” you sighed, eyes almost rolling back into your head.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he whispered in your ear, “get a cock in you, and you turn into a good girl f’me.”

You wanted to push back, to give him something to prove him wrong, but you had nothing.

“Please,” you whispered, your eyes squeezed shut tightly.

“Please what, princess?” You could hear the smile in Joel’s low rumbling voice.

“Fuck me, sir,” you pleaded, “Fuck me, Daddy, please.”

“Oh, now she’s askin’ nice.” Joel pulled back and thrusted back inside in one hard thrust, pushing your body against the table, a line surely indented in your skin by now.

A whimper fell from your lips.

Joel started fucking you slowly, but hard, the table rattling with each thrust, one hand wrapped around your wrists to keep his balance. Under him you couldn’t fight back your moans, small content squeaks escaping you when he pressed himself firmly against your ass, burying his cock deeply inside you with every thrust.

“That’s it, slut, that’s a good girl,” Joel praised over you, “takin’ that cock so well, princess.”

The world started blurring around the edges with each thrust, a soft, warm feeling wrapping itself around your heart as he thrusted inside you. You were dying to touch your clit. His cock reached so far, pressing perfectly against your g-spot with each push. You were so close. If you could just touch your clit.

“P-please,” you mumbled lowly, your face scrunched tight as you clenched around his cock.

Joel grunted behind you and stepped away. You could almost cry, and maybe you did because rough pads ran over your cheek as he shushed you.

“No-no-no, it’s okay baby,” he mumbled, “calm down.”

“Please,” you tried again. Please let me come.

“I need you to do somethin’ f’me,” he told you as he guided his cock back to your ruined entrance, slick with want.

“I’ll do anything you ask,” you hurried.

“Anythin’?” Joel rubbed his cock up and down your slit as a slick sound filled the air.

“Anything.”

Behind you, Joel laughed, and pushed inside you again, making a big smile spread across your face.

“Alright, princess,” he said with a hard thrust, “what you’re gonna do f’me is when you feel like you’re close, you’re gonna tell me, tell your Daddy, alright?”

You nodded into the wood, head almost delirious with want, “Okay.”

“You wanna feel my cum inside you, don’t cha, want me to fill y’up to the brim?” His voice was so soft, almost soothing, as he fucked you hard.

“Please, Daddy, want you to come inside me, please.”

A grumbling laugh escaped Joel as he continued his harsh thrust – your skin clap clap clapping together as he hauled you towards the edge of your orgasm. It built deep in your core, coiling in on itself as he brought you closer and closer and closer.

“Joel,” you gasped, “I’m gonna come.”

Quickly, and without warning, Joel pulled out, leaving you trembling, and on the edge.

“No, you ain’t,” he told you sternly, “you’re gonna hold it.”

A rough hand smoothed over your right ass cheek, small taps to your skin reprimanding you as he rubbed his cock over the other, soiling you in your own desperation.

You felt like you were heaving for breath underneath him, eyes squeezed tight as you tried to stave it off.

“That’s it,” he praised, “that’s a good girl. Hold that orgasm f’me.”

Focusing on the way his hand rubbed over your skin, you tried to calm down and steady your breathing. It could’ve taken a minute or an hour, you didn’t know, but the feeling of falling over the edge of bliss fizzled out slowly. Joel leaned over your body, whispering praises into your ear, telling you how good you were for him. When you’d calmed down completely, you lifted your head to look at him, to catch his eyes.

Blown out and big, the warmth of them looked back, a deepness to get lost in. A small smiled tugged at his lips before he leaned down and peppered a soft kiss to your shoulder. It lasted only a second, but it made fluttering wings expand in your tummy.

When he pushed inside you again, your tied hands reached for his. His thrust came quicker than before, sloppier, as he chased his own high, his hand interlaced with yours.

“God fuckin’ slut,” he rambled.

“Takin’ that cock so fuckin’ good.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ come– gonna fill that cunt up.”

With a hard slam of his hips against your ass, pushing himself as deep as he could, Joel came inside you with a deep grunt. “That’s it– take all that fuckin’ cum inside.” A warmth filled you from the inside as his cock twitch inside you, coating your walls in thick spurts of his cum.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he mumbled, as he thrusted his cum back inside you, making sure he’d emptied himself completely before pulling out, sliding his softening cock from your denied cunt.

“Joel,” you whispered, but he didn’t hear you, too busy with tucking himself back into his work pants, and pulling up your bikini bottoms, soiling them in his cum starting to leak out of you.

“What about me?” you asked, confused, as he undid the rope around your wrists.

“What ‘bout you?” he repeated, helping you up and turning you to face him.

A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he took in your disappointed face, a large hand coming up to cup your chin. “What?” he teased, “don’t like your punishment?” He padded your cheek and pulled away, picking up your bikini top from the floor.

“’f you’re gonna act like a fuckin’ brat– havin’ your daddy hire me to have an excuse for seein’ me again, when you could’ve just called, then you’re gonna get treated like a brat, you understand? You gotta earn your orgasm, and you ain’t earned yourself nothin’ prancing around half naked in your garden while I’m trying to work, princess.” 

With that, Joel threw you your bikini top, and you barely managed to catch it between your fingers before you watched him walk out the shed, leaving you half naked, as his cum leaked down the inside of your leg.

part three -> here!

hopefully this was okay? please let me know what you thought of the new part! a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[hedgehog-moss]

Do you know much of the history of the town you live near? I noticed some very old-looking stone buildings in your photos from the cow parade - does much of the town look like that or were those heritage buildings?

Unfortunately almost every town has some Ugly Modern Houses, but they're usually in the outskirts, while the centre is quite preserved. It's mostly ~200yo houses though, with the occasional very old house (like, 17th century). The towns that used to have a castle often still have a mediaeval layout, with a cluster of houses and narrow streets; sometimes (remains of) ramparts. And every village worthy of the name has the mandatory mediaeval church in the plaza (except mine which has a modern Victorian Gothic church that's like 150yo, but we have the ruins of a mediaeval monastery to make up for it)

One little local history fact I know is that this town that had the cow parade was named after a Central Asian tribe that invaded the region ~1,600 years ago and later helped fight off Attila when the Huns were invading! The cows don't know that. I love knowing where place names come from (unless they mean stuff like "by the river" which is boring.) I went to visit a Gallo-Roman site recently and there was a sign displaying some text by Julius Caesar in which he listed all the Celtic tribes he defeated here, and I thought it was so cool that some of these names are still familiar because they are preserved in place names. The Roman invasion days, two millennia ago, already feel quite faraway but by then the Celts had already lived here for centuries—I wish the specific Gallic tribe that started farming around here in the Iron Age could know that 2,500 years later people are still farming in this place that's still named after their tribe.

Your question made me realise that what I associate with "appreciating local history" is like, going to see the ruins of some 2nd century Roman thermal baths or temples or learning that a town was named after a guy who owned the place in 847 AD, and I don't pay enough attention to the 16th century houses near my dentist's office or the 12th century church in front of the vet clinic. I should appreciate these time periods more! I do love the look of mediaeval towns with their tiny tortuous streets that make life difficult for people who drive stupidly big cars. And I love mediaeval castles, though I've only visited 2 of the 150-or-so castles (not counting the ruins) this region boasts (I use 'boasts' ironically, there's another region nicknamed "the 1001 castles" so our score is pitiful.) (They don't actually have 1001 castles, they're lying, it's like 600, plus some glorified manor houses that don't count)

Last-minute addition: I drafted this reply last weekend and today I saw some ruins in a town where I went to have my spring water analysed, and decided to pop by the town hall to learn more. I learnt that the ruins are what remains of the town's castle, which "successfully resisted many English attacks" (that's what they always say) and was then offered by the King to a courtier in the 1450s, and the courtier hated it because it was 400 years-old and cold and draughty and falling apart so he never lived here. The town hall lady was so unimpressed by her town's attractions it was funny—I imagine if I'd been a tourist she would have tried to sell it to me more but knowing I live nearby she was like, well our town has a 13th century church like everyone else and here's our "castle" that's a ruin now and that was already a ruin in Joan of Arc times. To add some fun fact about their castle she said that a Valois Queen had slept there for a few nights at some point and I said eagerly "Queen Margot?" and the woman said "... no it was in the 1300s. Queen Margot went to [better castle farther North]", in such a humble tone that I felt bad for accidentally pointing out that unlike [Rival Town] they got one of those obscure Valois queens no one cares about.

[weepingchronicles]

platonic yandere hunter headcanons

tw/cw: yandere behavior, stalking, creepy(?), drugging(tranquilizers), guns mentioned, hunting obviously, cussing, kidnapping

a/n: i guess this is my first yandere oc? I don't know if he'll ever have a name or background but I'll just call him hunter

He acts like a friendly neighbour at first and for right now that's all he is.

To be honest, there is something slightly off about him.

The way you've never seen him without a weapon of some kind draped across his back. Or the way he leers and asks you questions slightly too personal.

"Where are your parents?" "Oh, are you close with them?" "Aw, that's a shame."

Still he was nice, enough. He never crossed a line. If he saw you getting uncomfortable his teasing and questions immediately stopped. So, that must be a green flag?

During winter, you had stopped hiking and going out to the trail you normally would. I guess the time spent away from you made Hunter fall deeper into his obsession with you.

He'd follow you to the grocery store, dentist, whenever you'd leave your house. He'd justify thinking it's just to keep you safe but didn't clarify on what.

During this, he'd learn more about you. Your habits, schedule and personal life.

You didn't have a good home life as far as he can tell. Sometimes he'd hear shouting within your house right before you burst out and slam the door to walk off some steam.

He thought he could treat you better, give you the home he thought you deserve. He had begun to think he knew you better than anyone else did.

Once you're back in the forest again is when he'd slowly force himself into your life.

He'd somehow "bump" into you whenever you're hiking and escort you. Saying "It's too dangerous for a kid like you to be walkin alone out here." You were creeped out to be honest but he was somewhat right.

Although he was actually pleasant to be around, one time he took you to the river and helped you catch a fish. He offered to help you cook it back at his place but you declined.

Other times were more silent but eventful, you'd both sit and enjoy the nature breeze, the birds. Sometimes when you were lucky a deer would run by, blessing you with its innocent presence.

You asked why he hadn't shot it, considering his job is to hunt.

"Because I'm with you, kiddo."

The more time you spent with him, coincidental or not, you slowly began to open up. He somehow knew your likes and dislikes in which you couldn't help but ramble about when brought up, he found it entertaining.

All your baggage too began to untangle. You'd talk about your problems with your family and how you go out into nature to get away from it all. It becomes your only safe space.

Hunter understood easily, he was always attentive when you talked of your parents but you failed to notice the murderous look in his eyes whenever he heard something that ticked him off a little too much.

You began to see Hunter as a father figure. I mean, he'd comfort you when you were sad, took you out fishing. He was more of a father than your biological one.

One day after fishing, he asked you if you wanted to go back to his cabin and cook it. He'd always ask you but always declined, but this time you actually felt safe enough to accept.

Hunter was delighted and drove you to his cabin further into the woods.

It was a lot nicer than you expected, you think it would look like a cabin from a horror movie or something but it was newly furnished or just well kept.

Hunter told you sit down and get comfy while he prepared the fish.

You did so in the living room. He gave you some hot tea but you never actually drank it, being far more interested in his home.

Hunter never talked about himself or family, you thought maybe it was because he was divorced or just secretive about personal things.

But as you roamed around the living room you noticed there were no framed photos at all.

Well, there was one. It was a photo he has taped on his window above the sink with him and you. You had caught your first fish and he wanted to take a photo to celebrate which you begrudgingly complied.

You roamed around more, careful with your footsteps to not make any creaking. You didn't want him to think you're snooping, I mean you are, but not in a bad way!

You came across a room that was slightly ajar enough to peek in. It was his bedroom.

His bed was messily made and on the dresser were empty or half empty beer bottles. Leaning on the wall were a couple shotguns, you didn't know if they were loaded or not. The only innocence misportraying his room were these lilacs in a vase you had collected on a hike with him. They were slightly dying, hunched in posture while a couple petals fell.

You roamed around more, you found the bathroom down the hall and passed the kitchen without Hunter noticing as he was cooking.

You had looked in every room so far besides the basement.

It was sketchy you will admit, but maybe that was your guilty conscience punishing you for snooping around.

You had went down a couple of steps and there was a hall. Most of the rooms down the hall were normal, for extra storage, that kinda thing.

You made your way down to the final door. It had a slide bolt lock and was probably the only door where the paint was peeling.

You figure it was just another storage room or maybe a place to keep his guns..(why would he need that kind of lock anyway?)

You open the room and peek inside, you find a light switch and turn it on. The room is ghostly cold, making you scrunch up your shoulders in chills.

What... the fu-

Your mouth fell slightly agape. The room had posters of your favorite media and characters plastered on the walls. On one side was a dresser and on-top were some of your childhood plushies that mysteriously went missing awhile ago.

"What the fuck is this.."

The most scariest part to you was that in the center was an old mattress covered by a thick blanket and few pillows. Alongside was a long chain connecting to the wall, it was meant for someone.

Your heartbeat sped up, Hunter was not who you thought he was.

You quickly ran out and went upstairs again, standing in the hall where you could hear Hunter humming to himself while cooking.

You froze there for a couple seconds, debating on what to do. You could just make a run for it but you don't know the way back home and it would take forever to get back on foot. Plus, he has guns. The other option was to pretend everything was fine, all good. You didn't know how well you could that, putting a hand to your chest made you feel your frenzied heartbeat. What if he knew something was up and killed you? What if you pretend and stay but he kills you anyway?

Your thoughts began to blur as if you were a deer caught in headlights, you only snapped out of it once you heard Hunter calling your name.

"There you are! What's wrong?"

You felt your lip twitch, control yourself.

"I- I was looking for the bathroom." You felt your throat suddenly dry up, like you've just been in the sahara desert.

Hunter chuckled at this and gestured to the bathroom that was just further down the hall.

His smile faltered when he realized you wouldn't move yet when he reached out to your shoulder, you instinctively backed away.

"Kiddo?" He said, slightly confused and panicked. He looks down to the basement and saw the door was still open.

Realization hit him and he was trying to muster up an explanation, anything.

But you were already running, you didn't have enough time to put on shoes so you were running on only your socks.

You tried to remember the path you came from, you couldn't just run down the road he'd easily drive by and catch you. Everything in the woods looked different as the sun began to set and the sky was cast with an orange hue, it was almost more alive than in the daytime.

You didn't stop to look behind you, only running as fast as your wobbly knees could take you but you could hear your name being called in the distance which somehow urged you to sprint faster.

Fuck, maybe your parents were right in saying to do Track and Field. You were panting, your chest felt itchy and your cheeks burned yet felt cold all at the same time. You knew you couldn't yet stop though.

Finally, once you couldn't hear your name being called is when you stopped by a large stone.

You tried to contain your breaths but they came out in only puffs as you regained control of yourself.

How the fuck were you supposed to get home now!?

In a state of hopelessness you began to softly cry. You came into the woods because it was your safe space but all you want to do right now is be back home on your bed.

Before you went into a full breakdown, you heard the familiar call of your name again.

Hunter.

You gasp and hide behind the large stone, accidently falling in a small river and biting your lip at the freezing water.

You peek out the best you can without revealing your hiding spot.

You see the blurry image of Hunter walking, is he...

Is he holding a gun!?

"Kiddo!? Come here, I'm not going to hurt you. Let's just go back to the cabin and get you warmed up."

'Um, I think I rather freeze to death out here, thanks.'

You knew he was getting closer as the creaks in the twigs and leaves louden.

Feeling you have no choice but to make a run for it, you do. Either he finds you hiding, shoots you or you run and he tries to shoot you.

"(Y/N)! Come back here now!"

Is this guy really trying to get you to come back willingly? Why is he not shooting?

"Come back or I'll shoot!" Oh, there it is.

You don't stop running however, you run in a zig zag motion to make it hard for him to shoot but I guess he never told you how good of a shot he was.

A shot came to your left calf and another at your shoulder, making you crash into the dirt and solid ground in front of you. You thought it would hurt more, a bullet ripping into your flesh like a fucking parasite. But what you felt was stinging.

Yeah, it still fucking hurt but it wasn't a pain you expected from a bullet wound. In that last moment you have consciousness, you turn over peering down at your calf and seeing a dart poke right into it.

A dart?

Hunter rushes by your side, finally catching up to you.

Your instincts urge you to escape but a numbness spreads throughout your body, making your eyelids so very heavy.

He lifts your head in his hands, caressing your hair and brushing away dirt on your face.

"Shh, it's okay now. Just go to sleep, everything will be okay once you wake up."

You tried to move, run, protest, anything! But it felt like someone put a weighted blanket over you, or more like ten blankets.

You began to lose consciousness and your eyesight blackening. You could feel your wrists and ankles getting tied together. You were pulled over what felt like Hunter's shoulders, as if you were a freshly caught deer. Maybe that's how he saw you.

You didn't have much of a say either way as he trudged further into the woods again, carrying you.

a/n: woop yay!! my first original character! feel free to ask any questions bout him, if you have any. I might make a part 2 to this when I feel like it but I have a bunch of other requests to do at the moment. also let's not talk about how it's almost 6 am and I'm writing this

[probablygayattorneys]

I told my brother that if I never play Azran Legacy then Emmy never leaves and I can keep her in that moment forever

And he decided to lift the burden on me by just telling me why she left, thereby ripping off that bandaid. Only problem is, he’s never played Azran Legacy (or any Layton game, for that matter) so he doesn’t know either. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him, so he came up with a reason. And then a few more, just in case.

These reasons include:

-Roundhouse kicked a high ranking government official and is avoiding trial

-Layton doesn’t kill people… but he doesn’t always save them either, and then the train crashed.

-Took the fall for Two-Face killing cops so Harvey Dent’s legacy will live on

-She was the only one who could disarm the bomb but to keep her wife and kids safe she let Descole break her neck.

-Flashed her titties to everyone and is now off to find new people to flash

-She wasn’t actually the Professor’s assistant, she was his apprentice, but near the end of the game she really deepens her connection with the Force and starts to believe that she can overpower him and become the new Professor… however, when she tried to pull off this fight, it’s over, Emmy, the Professor has the high ground.

-Got a job at Hooters which has been a longtime dream of hers and the Professor told her she absolutely could not abandon her dreams to stay his assistant

-Bees.

-She learned the greatest secret the American government has been trying to keep from the public for years (Obama's last name) and had to be eliminated by any means possible.

-Emmy sacrificed herself to save the rest of them from the balrog but she comes back in New World Of Steam as Emmy the White.

-Got a ticket for the Eras tour and is still stuck in traffic leaving the stadium

-She was in a motorcycle accident and plowed into the side of an airplane hanger. She was so innocent… and stoned, apparently.

-After they all sang Seize the Day, she wasn’t able to escape from the cops and they hauled her off to the refuge.

-It’s not Emmy. The first Emmy you see, the teenage one he helps is Emmy, but every single one since is Don Paolo.

-She was just a courier, meant to deliver something to New Vegas, but the game was rigged from the start.

-Moved to Seattle with Grosky to start their own law office.

-This one just says "Bones"

-Was killed by 30-50 feral hogs that ran into her yard within 3-5 minutes while Luke was playing.

-Drove a segway off a cliff

-Bruce Willis was DEAD the ENTIRE TIME!

-Left a note that says “Professor’s Assistant Emmeline Altava Chooses Death” and then fucked off to Europe or something for a year

-She ran away to be with Descole. She was attracted to his manly figure. His Waluigi like body. His spindly little legs. The cut of his jib, if you will.

-Rode her Vespa into a crowd of people while screaming “PEPSI MAN!”

-Didn’t learn STREET SMARTS from JJ Bittenbinder and went to a secondary location

-“Tell me about the rabbits, Emmy.”

-She’s a Russian sleeper agent sent to kill the professor and it’s just taken so damn long because a good hitman doesn’t leave collateral damage but she finally got Layton away from Luke long enough to get the job done.

-Was at a bar on international women’s day, did two shots and tried to fight another girl which caused an all out full bar fight and she fell into a coma after a third girl hit her over the head with an almost full bottle of Hood River Gin.

-Professor Sycamore’s airship flew her to places she’d never been… now she’s lying on the cold hard ground (goat noise)

-The time machine wasn’t stable enough to keep her in the present and it sent back in time to the moment the time machine exploded, sealing her fate.

-Moved to France to learn how to be a heart surgeon.

-She finally was approved to manage her own Dairy Queen franchise.

-She is dead and has been for the past ten years. The professor needs to let her go. The accident wasn’t his fault.

-She walked to Memphis to become a dentist. Anything but this.

-Most think... She died.

-....But I think we oughta believe she made it to the other side :)

[pandorafallz]

Vampire AU | Chapter 29

The surgery felt far longer than it actually was, Jake had realised, as he obeyed the words of both Surgeon and Tsahìk in the operation. At one point, due to inexperience, Harper almost woke up once but Ashely was able to get her back under quickly for them to resume.

It was a success, in the end. With one concussion as well.

Zeke’s poor timing in walking into the theatre had given him the view of internal things he didn’t need to see and had keeled straight back almost comically. They had left him on the floor given there wasn’t a nurse to drag him away once Ruby was sure he hadn’t cracked his skull in and shoved an ice pack under his head.

Once Harper’s side was stitched up Mo’at did take over to apply her medical balms to aid the healing process; it worked far more efficiently so while there would be a scar, it wouldn’t be too noticeable once it was fully healed up.

Jake was glad to deglove and wheel himself out by the time Eliza called it for unnecessary hands to leave. Getting back into his old clothes was a massive relief and he happily wheeled around the trodden-down grass to flex his arms and back more from the ache of his position in the afternoon sun.

N’deh was gone, as was Neytiri, but Mo’at’s Pa’li that they had used was still about and licking at a new pitcher-pod flower. With the uneven terrain under his wheels, he couldn’t do much exploration to see if he was far or close. So, all he could do was wait; Mo’at could return him back to camp if need be. Seze was gone as well so Jake had to assume N’deh had gone with his niece to Hometree to report to Eytukan or Neytiri had just left on her own to do that.

“I can’t believe you guys just left me on the floor?” Zeke’s voice was a soft whine before the masked figure was guided out by Zane who gently sat the guy onto a near the lab’s wooden ramp on a partial log. The Ice-pack held in place by the mask straps still.

“We made sure you weren’t at risk of brain injury but there was some prioritising the woman cut open on our operation bed over a guy on the floor with a concussion,” Zane said, patting the guy’s shoulder.

“Wow, I feel so loved.” The concussed guy said with a roll of his eye. “I just didn’t expect there to be a lot of blood.”

Jake snorted a little, his eyes following Zane for a moment as the guy headed off without a word and disappeared around the Rolab’s side. “What did you think we were doing?”

“I may be a scientist with PhDs in Bioengineering and Xenobotany but I am not used to blood on a day-to-day basis.” Zeke said, “Unless I’ve cut myself shaving.” He ran his hand over his clean-shaven face.

“Bioengineering?” Jake cocked his head curiously, “What does that entail?” He could picture something but he couldn’t imagine that skill being overly useful on Pandora. At least Xenobotany was another fall-back.

Zeke went to open his mouth but Mo’at huge form was swift leaving the airlock and stretching out at her full height and pulling off the tiny, modified apron off her front that looked more like a dentist’s dib on her. She pulled her kuru back to her front and without another word hurried to the river.

Both Jake and Zeke watched for a moment as the Tsahìk dipped in and out rather quickly and squeezed out the water from her hair but looked to try to rub the water into her skin. It wasn’t often she was disgruntled but that was certainly the expression on her face.

“All good?” Jake couldn’t help but ask as she returned.

“That spray smells. I don’t smell like… myself.” Mo’at complained but she was relieved to slip her beaded shawl back over her shoulder from the folded pile she had left on a nearby rock. “It’ll take days to leave me.”

“Ah.” He could understand that very easily Na’vi had a more sensitive nose and could follow scent trails; sterilizing spray would certainly going to throw her off and no doubt Eytukan as well too. It was unnatural. “But how was your first real major operation?”

“Educational. ElizaDrennek is… very stern in her practice but efficient.” Mo’at crouched down to be at their level, running her fingers through her hair. “I believe I will need new tools to be of practical use if such an occurrence happens again.”

“Yeah, the appendix is a tricky thing. More common in children or young adults but can happen into adulthood.” Zeke said, lifting his shirt to show there was…only a small scar that his finger traced. “I had mine out when I was seven. Didn’t rupture but it sucked. Fortunately, Germany’s medical system is better than America's.”

“Oh, you German?” Or did he visit when it occurred?

“Ja, on my father’s side.” It was very jarring that Zeke’s American accent shifted entirely away as he spoke, going full-on German. “Mostly raised in Amerika but I’d spend every summer at my vater’s hometown and trying not to get a wedgie from kids who thought I was ‘too Amerikanisch.” He added the last bit with viable quotes with his fingers. His accent vanished on his next sentence, “Aside from that, I loved it.”

“Damn, you’ve learned to pick up the American accent wonderfully. I would never have guessed.”

Zeke grinned, “You got any foreign blood in you, Sully?”

“I heard my great-grandfather was Canadian?”

“Canada doesn’t count. Outside of America, Canada and Delaware.”

 “Delaware’s a state.”

“No one cares about Delaware, Jake.”

Jake snorted but craned his mind back to the depth of…what he knew of his family. Tommy had been the one to know off the top of his head. In all honestly, he was a typical American now so… he didn’t reflect any non-American blood now.  However, his grandmother… now that he thought about it

“Australian? My grandmother? I think?”

Zeke hummed for a moment in consideration. “I’ll take that.”

There was a momentary lapse in conversation before Jake remembered the Tsahìk’s existence and he turned back to her. “Right, sorry got onto a tangent there.” He said to her, “It happens a lot.”

“I’ve noticed,” Mo’at responded with a little dry but looking a lot more herself now and more relaxed as she ran her fingers through her hair and made sure there wasn’t anything human lingering in it. “But, I do have to ask the purpose of the Appendix. Na’vi does not have such an organ ourselves.”

“Oh, the appendix is used to help the body produce cells to help fight infection,” Zeke said then he grinned a bit. “I do enjoy the irony of it; an organ designed to help infection of the one causing it.”

Mo’at’s lip did twitch at that, “I see. I’ll return to home tree soon. I will need to get new tools crafted or in the making before the sun is down. Some with smaller ends. Our size differences are not kind. I didn’t realise how frustrating it truly was. Thank you for being my hands, Jakesully.”

Jake nodded his welcome. In all honestly, his medical training was not….surgical training so he really did rely on the words of those professionally trained to guide him through Harper’s guts. Thankfully, the fact he was getting used to butchering was the only reason he wasn’t queasy about looking at blood and guts. Zeke must not have a strong stomach.

“It’ll take a few weeks for her to fully heal. I want to pop down tomorrow and check-in,” Jake said, “Probably in my avatar.” If he could convince Neytiri to allow him the morning off.

“As will I. I’m confident in Eliza’s ability to care for her patient but I know the medicinal herbs far better than her for now to promote better healing. I will need to teach her for when I am absent.” Mo’at rose to her feet, clicking her tongue that called the Pa’li to her.

“Oh, do you think you could drop me off back at camp? I don’t have a ride back since…N’deh and Neytiri aren’t here.” He couldn’t hear them or anything so… he wasn’t sure if he could sit and wait about it. Sure, he could relink with his avatar to see if they were at camp but he just wanted to go home, at this point. He was sure Nadine had company return once they heard and were waiting on news. No point over the radio when he could talk to his camp directly.

“Of course.”

-

“<Uncle, be patient>” Neytiri said as the man in question aggressively picked apart seeds from fibres from his earlier collection but she could see his tail was lashing high still. “<My father will need time to fully decide.>”

Apparently, from a suggestion from Kim this morning, N’deh had the idea and desire to get a new Ikran and had firmly latched onto the notion. Neytiri had been there when he had asked after they had informed him of what medically happened at one of the human’s camps but her father was very blunt on the matter and dismissed him back to camp. Neytiri had opted to return him herself and she had been stuck with him fuming for hours so, she had opted to help him continue to process his gathering in the meantime. Letting him stew alone on his feelings was not wise. Her mother would not be happy that she didn’t do anything to tend to hurt or tender feelings. Unbecoming of a tsakarem.

“<I don’t understand why, that is all. He cannot rob me of a new Ikran with no reason. I have passed my rites and the mourning period.>” N’deh said hotly. “I have done nothing wrong to be rebuked.”

Neytiri sighed deeply but she knew the reasons of why, to a degree and while she couldn’t go past her father about it, she knew she had to soothe her uncle's nerves. This was a…complex choice and her father had clearly weighed the risk of the Rookery too great of crossing paths with… Graceaugustine. Her father had ordered her not to make contact unless she could help it and she knew better than to disobey. Her uncle could not know of where she was, even if she desired to lift that burden for him. It was not her place. She had to think of the clan first.

“<Perhaps he thinks the Rookery is…too close to the Tree of Souls?>” Neytiri scrambled for an excuse and was glad to find one swiftly. The rookery was in the mountains and often shifted around between the floating mountains and it seemed close that it was possible to be in the range of the sacred sites. It wasn’t uncommon but… it would be a plausible excuse to use that wasn’t a lie either. She was comfortable enough with that. “<You are not allowed there>”

N’deh let out a frustrated sigh. “<The only other rookery close is… further north close to the Tawkami clan. It’s on their territory.>”

Neytiri’s head cocked to the side. “<You have visited their clan before.>”

“<Yes,>” N’deh paused in his work, “<, Unlike the Ikran at the floating mountains here, there will be little way in fighting to the death. Their Ikran do not see Na’vi as prey but have other methods for proving a bond.>” N’deh’s mood tapered off a little in consideration. “<I would need to spend time at the rookery there for one of them to choose me.>”

Neytiri’s brow pulled in confusion. “<You do not choose each other? No fight or challenge.>”

“<Each rookery has different behaviours depending on Na’vi exposure the young Ikran have. It’s frequented a lot by the Tawkami when they harvest the flowers up there; some plants grow exclusively in the rookery that would not go elsewhere in their territory. With that much exposure over generations of Na’vi, they feel no concern over Na’vi but they still hear Eywa’s calls for when a Na’vi is there to be chosen to be a rider. A few are like that, like the Aranahe clan’s rookery but again, a portion is much like ours given that there is significant distance between the People>” N’deh explained with warmth in his voice. “<It was something I was taught when I stayed with them for a little while after my initial banishment. A few women were fond of Txon'ong’s colouring and wondered about our story.>”

Neytiri nodded but she couldn’t help but feel a little fascinated. There wasn’t much news recently from clan-to-clan and not many travellers that came to Hometree but she knew it would be important to learn from each clan still. It was…remarkable that the Ikran taming was so different. She had believed that they were all the same.

“<I know they’re not fond of Dreamwalkers but…perhaps Kimgreene would finally be able to tame one before her children’s birth.>”  

Her uncle seemed to light up with pride at the mention of the Dreamwalker. A distant reminder to Neytiri that… she vaguely remembered Kimgreene had been close to getting her own Ikran before their banishment. Neytiri had seen the woman hunt and could see she was fully trained. Had to be and certainly her uncle had trained her well in what areas they hadn’t gotten to after they were gone from the Omatikaya. A robbed rite, but... she wasn’t suitable just yet. One child was risky enough but two in her womb? No.

“<Let’s not be too hasty, Uncle.>” Neytiri reminded, “<She is a few months until she is due to birth. I don’t think it’s wise. Perhaps after her children have their first breaths but before....” She trailed off a little, her tail lashing. “<As docile and as calm as those Ikran are, they are still wild animals before they’re tamed by a bond>”

N’deh let out a reluctant huff at her wisdom. “<I know. She has desired one for years. I want her to feel the same joy as I first did when I took my first flight. To feel the wind and the…senseless freedom. I want her to have that joy as well. She had worked so hard for it.>”

Neytiri reached for her uncle’s shoulder warmly. “<One day, N’deh but… after her children breathe our air and rest happy upon their parent’s chest.>”

N’deh remained quiet for a moment. “<I’ll consider the Tawkami’s rookery. It’s… the most viable option unless your mother can convince Eytukan to allow me passage to the Mountains.>”

That thankfully pacified his mood enough for him to relax into his work, his fingers picking out seeds and separating them far faster than hers but she didn’t try to go quickly.

-

The time continued to turn, long enough that Jeromeepstein made his appearance back to the camp with concerns and having heard of Harper’s sudden health turn but they were still waiting on news. Nadinereza had also been busy; anxiety reorganising the storage supplies by the sounds of it and the occasional burst of profanity when she dropped something.

Morgan made an appearance, this time with an overly large skull in his hands with his carving tool kit but…the skull itself was very unfamiliar. It looked very close to a Nangtang but…it wasn’t. A carnivore for sure.

“<What animal is that skull from?>” Neytiri asked, leaving her uncle’s side to crouch beside as the human seemed to settle down with his tools.

Morgan looked up, “Oh, this is... a vekreng. Humans call them Cloaked Panthers. It’s an old skull from the bone carvers got from some Zeswa traders that passed through years back. I asked if I could have it and they agreed. I think I’ll probably settle fully into bone carving. I’ve worked in most of the areas Hometree has but… bones seem more interesting and…I still got a shit ton I need to put to use. Might as well invest.”

Neytiri smiled a little. “You have found a calling?”

Morgan paused for a moment then nodded. “Hopefully. Took almost two months but…yeah? That and sling-training.”

“May I?” She held her hands out for the skull. Morgan handed it over after a second and she gently turned it in her hands to…see more in-depth of the creature’s face. The natural pathways into the skull for its dual kuru along the tops of its head, the eye sockets as well that were strong and the sharp teeth that were still set into its top jaw. “An impressive animal.” She could see its strength with how thick the bone was and how sharp the teeth were.

“Indeed.” Morgan agreed, taking it back from her. “I want to make this into something stunning. Maybe some sort of mask or perhaps a deceptive piece for my shack.”

“A mask? This is bigger than your own head.” Neytiri pointed out softly, “It may not fit.”

Morgan shrugged, “Maybe a mask for Jerome or Jake? Or N’deh if he’s curious.” He tossed a look down to the weaver who didn’t seem to be paying them any attention. “Like, I get they hunt but I was thinking…what happens if they run into an RDA patrol? Dreamwalkers will get recognised so… why not have them dress up for a bit? Maybe splash in some body paint?”

“The Sky people won’t be that foolish to be that deep into our land.”

Morgan let out a dry laugh. “You say that like they’re not already carving a path to your home or hunting us down.”

Neytiri’s eyes narrowed but… he did have a point there. Sky people often would push their boundaries and small groups could be missed in their patrols.  Perhaps caution must have some consideration. Still, Jerome and Kim had been out for years and hadn’t been recognised. Jake as well for months.

“Well, I think Jerome can slap on some paint to cover his eyebrows or see if he’ll shave them off. The RDA think his Dreamwalker is also dead so they won’t initially recognise him…or Kim for that matter.  They both wear Na’vi clothes anyway.” Morgan continued, “I’ll scan a 3D scan of this and do some mock-ups on my tablet.”

With that and otherwise still pleased, Morgan headed away towards his mauri-shack with a wave. Of course, the silence didn’t last long and the human disappeared off into his shack as the airlock hissed shut after him. Neytiri’s attention turned as she heard steps through the tree, her ears perking in the relief of seeing her mother upon a pa’li. Sitting in front, holding his chair with all the might of his arms was Jake who seemed to relax visibly to be back.

“Neytiri!” he noted, waving at her with a beaming smile that…made her heart flutter with warmth at his cheerfulness.

Neytiri smiled in relief; no look of worry or concern which meant everything had gone well. Neytiri took his wheelchair from him and opened it then set it onto the grass. Taking him softly from the Pa’li but placed him on the ground for him to get into his chair; why he didn’t allow her to sit him into the seat, she didn’t know but he was stubborn enough to argue her attempt.

Nadine abandoned her organising, coming straight over loudly and Jerome seemed to come out of his mauri with an armband he was crafting.

“Jake!” Nadine came over and hugged his head. “Did you faint?”

“No. Although Zeke did get a concussion.”

“How? He wasn’t the one being operated on!” Jerome laughed a little. “Let me guess, he keeled back like his soul left his body?”

“Pretty much. The guy does not like blood, it seems.”

“All was well, it seems?” Neytiri asked, her eyes flickering between him and up her mother. Although her nose wrinkled at the… strong alien smell that seemed to linger on her mother’s skin. Sharp and…chemically. Unlike the sweet sap and herbs smell she was familiar with.

“Yes, Harper is recovering well. I will visit often to ensure she’s healing well. It will be some time before she can return to Hometree. Eliza will also be absent for some time as well.” Mo’at spoke calmly. “But I must return. I need a wash with a stronger scrub.”

Neytiri chuckled a little, bidding farewell with the familiar gesture then followed Jake as he pushed his wheels over the uneven terrain. Her body itched to lean down and help push but she suspected that wouldn’t be welcomed gesture. He might get offended given how stubborn he was about doing it himself so, she restrained.

“Stay here, Let me have a snack quick and then link back up.” Jake said, pushing his wheels faster towards the shack, “Then I can tell you all about it.”

Neytiri hung back but at her uncle’s gesture towards the mats, she sat down. Nadine also sat down and Jerome although neither of them touched the fibres and Jerome simply carried on with his armband. It didn’t take more than a few minutes before Jake descended down

“Is Kimgreene not back yet? Morgan?” Jake asked, his eyes scanning about as he crouched down

“Morgan’s in his shack, I think he’s cool getting an update later. He’s got some plans with a cranium.” Nadine said, “Also, Kim’s still at Kung’s camp. When the message got to her, you lot were well into the surgery so she figured it was all handled. She did ask to make sure.”

“I suppose. Plus, she may not have been able to help much given her size. Mo’at did struggle. I had to be her hands for the event given she couldn’t work a human-sized scalpel.” Jake said, “But the surgery went smoothly, barring Zeke fainting. It…could have gone better but none of us are trained like a surgical team. We relied heavily on Eliza’s orders to make sure it was smooth going. I do think…maybe we need some of us to train with Eliza to cover the areas needed if this happens again. I’ll bring that up at Hometree tomorrow. Today was fortunate but we can’t rely on luck.”

Neytiri found herself nodding, “Why is it that…you smell? My mother too, for that matter? It’s a horrible stench.”

“Oh, Eliza had everyone involved sprayed down with a sterilisation spray. Your mother was no exception. Humans can be susceptible to infections brought in on a normal basis. On Earth, anyone operating on another human must undergo the same procedures to ensure minimal risk. Since we’re on Pandora, an alien world, our bodies will be more likely to get an infection given our bodies don’t know how to fight alien germs.” Jake explained, “Everyone was masked up, sterilised, and covered so Harper was at minimal risk. As she heals, that’ll tell us if we’re successful.”

“I hope that…smell goes. It’s not pleasant.”

“Me too, but needs must.”

Needs must indeed.

-

Neytiri found herself not opening up the rest of the day for intense training; the headspace for Jake was…not one she knew would be ready to partake given the natural emotional exhaustion that would come from aiding the life of a friend so directly. Instead, she helped around his camp, keeping him speaking in Na’vi and particularly; to recite the prayer for hunting as they went.

“<…and your body stays to be the people>,” Jake said slowly as they cleaned up the hand-made bullets that had been since scattered in their earlier training when he had been showing her the sling weapon.

“<Your body stays behind to become part of the people>” Neytiri corrected, adding one of the cracked bullets to her growing collection. “Close.”

Jake wrinkled his nose. “Not close enough.”

“<you’re doing very well, Jake.” She said, “You’ve picked this up far quicker than I expected.”

“I’m still too slow. I feel like…I’m still too passive. I need to do more.”

“You’re a skilled bead maker and you’re learning the weaving patterns very well. I have noticed that you show promise of a leader with the humans that are here.” Neytiri gave him a soft look, “You need to See yourself. You’re a hunter at heart but you’re also of two bodies.” She grasped his shoulder. “You are enough. You are doing well for being bound between worlds.”

Jake’s yellow eyes were like pools of golden honey, deep and rolling with emotion but there was the lingering uncertainty that floated within them. She wanted nothing more than to remove his doubt but she hoped he’d reflect on her words later.

“Tomorrow, we will…work on your bow and arrow. You’re posture when actively hunting needs work. On the Pa’li and crouched. We can spend all day working on it if you want?”

“I…I want to visit Harper in the morning; check in on her.” Jake said, “It’d be good…to see her when I’m not elbow-deep in her intestines and covered in blood.”

Neytiri’s nose wrinkled but she agreed to the adjustment. That didn’t sound pleasant but… a new memory to go over was better than reflecting on that grotty aspect of aiding her. “The area of land that they’re in is a good area for hunting. It’s open to a large river and it can attract many animals for you to track. Fresher. Your ability to track through scent needs more work but we can work on that too.”

Jake nodded, looking more determined. “When will Ashely get her Ikran?”

“Two weeks by Tsu’tey’s estimates,” Neytiri said, a little surprised really that Tsu’tey would think so soon but she had seen the woman hunt and train; she knew her Dreamwalker body well and had since developed it. It was a warrior body. She hadn’t seen much, if of anything of Ashelysloan’s human body but she hoped to see her soon. If she had healed up fully.

Jake looked surprised. “Wow.”

“She’s had much longer inside her Dreamwalker, its age is much older than yours and lived life into it. Tsu’tey did take over my teaching with her so I could up for work with you.” Neytiri said.

“I’m just…amazed. Jealous but… at least she’s making real good progress.”

“Once she’s passed Iknimaya, she will be able to participate in hunts with the people. As she is not Omatikaya, my parents are…still deciding on whether this means you’re considered a fully-fledged adult in our culture or not. You cannot have Uniltaron, the second rite that would make you one of the Omatikaya.” Which was…unfortunate. “They’re still uncertain on how to accept sky people into their traditions.”

Jake let out an unsurprised huff. “Na’vi as a whole never will. We gotta make the best of it, even with Uturu.” He offered a tight smile but took her little basket of sling whistle bullets from her. “Let’s not dwell on that now. Let’s focus on something else.”

-

The Na’vi stepped through the base with a determined pathway. Familiar now having helped construct Refuge’s new home to make it fully airtight and suitable for earth-atmosphere so no one had to sleep in masks when there was another leak.

Excitement hung in the air as well as anticipated and they were almost set to go but… Teylan had not shown up. So she decided to find him first. There were little known places Teylan would be and she had passed most on her way to see there was only one viable place. She slipped through the large airlock before the doors opened at the end of the lab.

To no surprise, Teylan was there.

“…and today, the others are going to visit the Aranahe clan. I think you would be quite proud of them.” His voice echoed.

Kìoetey watched as he was kneeling next to the grow-tank. Alma’s Na’vi self was almost asleep inside. Nude and life sustained through the umbilical cord, the thumping beats of her heart going through the monitors that kept her vitals in check; keeping her alive inside.

It had thrown her off the first time she had seen her teacher like this. Never seen her with her hair down and out of that braided bun, or asleep… or…vulnerable like this. Her body twitching as if she was an unborn baby within the womb. A few instances when she was sucking on her thumb out of basic reflexes. But she had gotten used to it now but.. it seemed Teylan had taken great comfort in coming here often. The most familiar person he knew from the RDA was in the tube.

Kìoetey understood but she knew he had to concentrate his energy on those who would speak and interact back. Alma couldn’t hear him, as much as he liked to think otherwise.

“Teylan,” Her voice echoed, coming around to his side, “We need to do.”

Teylan’s ears drooped. “Must I?”

“Alex says that it would be good for us all to go and make a good impression with the Aranahe. It’s well into the morning. We shouldn’t leave it too late.” Kìoetey said softly.

“I…I don’t want to go. I’m sorry but...it’s just too much pressure. I like it here. Plus, who will keep Alma company here? I can help when they need to sort something out with this tech. Alex showed me how it works.”

“Alma will still be here when we get back tonight.”

Teylan spared a look to the avatar. “But… she’s so alone in there. I know she can’t talk back but I’m sure she’s listening. I don’t want her to get lonely.”

Kìoetey sighed heavily. “If everything…does go well with the Aranahe, can you…at least try and visit next time?”

Teylan paused for a moment. “Well, I suppose if the Aranahe do like you, I can visit but...only for a little bit. I do not like it outside that much. It’s so dangerous.”

Which was the best she was going to get from him, she supposed. “Okay.” She grasped his shoulder warmly. “I will speak to you later. I have a radio on me as well Ri’nela and Yefti but the others will not. The Aranahe may not like them so we’ll use them for emergencies.”

Teylan nodded, his hand coming to touch his new radio. “Okay.”

Kìoetey left him to it and returned outside where Nor was waiting with the others. Raj had kitted them all out in Na’vi clothing. Some burying shades of grey from reusing old clothing but Na’vi enough she hoped would be acceptable. Ri’nela of course had gone all out and had added decoration back into her hair. As many as possible.

Okni had also added some decoration to hers but since it was shorter, she hadn’t had as much. Telisi’s hair was still growing out from her scalp since Mercer had had it shaved as punishment for disobeying him in their last training session. The only hair on her head was the braid protecting her kuru. Alma had epic timing in bursting and grabbing the electric sheers before the guy could take that hair too. She had apparently broken his wrist in the process which had brought some joy in Nor and Telisi to hear. The next day, Alma had led them out of TAP in secret when her SecOps mutiny occurred.

It was all a rush after that but everyone was still finding themselves and Kìoetey hoped the Aranahe clan would be the first step now that they were out. To be with real Na’vi. For the first time since…they were babies and toddlers.

They barely looked the part and she could see the anxiety on the other’s faces. Especially Yuayt’s face.

“Teylan won’t go but he’s agreed to visit if everything goes well,” Kìoetey said as she reached her group. “Now, we all have our bows? Arrows? Knives? We have to walk to the Hometree but we don’t know what sort of animals we may come across on our journey. Don’t shoot first and see. We can read the body language.” She reminded, eyeing the latter half of their group like Okni and Telisi.

“Let’s go. We’ve waited long enough.” Nor said impatiently, “I’ve got a quick route in mind. Let’s go.”

With that, they headed out.

“Good luck!” Priya’s voice echoed from the airlock.

-

The journey through the foliage was long. Though the terrain was unfamiliar to most, Kìoetey had learned enough in her time out to steer a few other's way from dangerous plants. Like those puff pods that Okni thought were like balloons up until she told her that they exploded if touched.

Kìoetey liked to think it was Eywa watching over them by the time the canopy broke to show the top of the massive Hometree in the distance, spurring them one before they found a trodden path to follow and so they charted it with confidence.

The closer they got, and as the tree was looming above, Kìoetey’s heart sang in her chest with nerves but she held onto the truth that this must be done for them to have any part of their people. For their future.

“<Is that…>”

“<No, that clan is long gone.>” The voices were hushed, distant in Na’vi but Kìoetey’s attention turned to two hunters that looked to be in their path and have stopped. “<This must be something else.>”

“<The mark is clear. Kat’nat will want to know.>” The second hunter hissed to the first, her eyes sharp as she took them in. “<If you do not, I will help. They all look lost.>”

The first looked unappeased but after a moment he nodded. “<Fine, I’ll go ahead and inform Kat’nat. You take them.>” He said then turned tail and began to jog away.

The female hunter rolled her eyes at her hunting partner’s antics but turned back to the group. Kìoetey stepped forward, hoping to look less intimidating. “<hello. I am Kìoetey. We…wish to go to your Hometree to relearn more of Na’vi ways.”

The hunter’s eyes dipped down to their attire, clearly sensing something based on their appearance. Hopefully to verify her words. “Your reasons will be heard by our clan’s leader. Kat’nat. I will suggest you put your bows away. Predators will not be this close to Hometree. Our Hometree scouts may not like them to be easily drawn before they know why you’re here.” She was sharp in her tone but gestured the seven of them onwards.

Perhaps reluctant but not passive to let them go on their own, Kìoetey was still relieved that…a guide was better than none and the trip to the tree was shorter too.

As expected by the hunter at least, an Ikran swooped as they neared the main entryway with a very young man, perhaps a teenager with a raised bow. Nor tensed right up with a hiss at the aggression. Ri’nela grasped his arm to temper his reactions before he got them shot.

“<Calm, Neyan.>” The woman said.

“<What is this, mother? You bring strangers to our home?”

Thankfully, the question did not need an immediate answer. The first hunter they saw seemed to return, with three others in two. One male who Kìoetey assumed was the clan leader, but two women; one dressed in bright yellow and seemed to be about her mid to late forties with a bounce to her posture, the second woman as more stern, sharp-eyed and had complimentary colours to the clan leader.

“<Sarentu.>” The woman spoke, moving past her mate towards them. Kieotey held her gaze, allowing her to properly look at their shared mark. “<It had been a long time since we last saw your people here. You’ve been gone a long time.>” She was light in her remarks, her hand coming to her jaw but not touching.

“<Sarentu?>” Kìoetey couldn’t help the question, “<No one has ever called us that.>”

The Tsahìk’s ears tilted in a sense of alarm but her eyes were narrow, taking in her outfit and the others more closely “<Where have you been for all this time?>”

“<The Sky people. They took us when we were little and told us our clan abandoned us. We knew better. We escaped recently with sky people who did not like their ways.>” Kìoetey spoke, “<But… we know little of our own people and what happened to them. You and your people are the first Na’vi we have seen since we were stolen.>”

The woman in yellow shooed the teen warrior into putting the bow away. “<Put that away. There is no need for hostilities. Can you not see they are frightened?>” She reprimanded, moving past the teen and towards Okni first who immediately shied away. “<Do not fear him, young one. His bark is bigger than his bite.>”

The clan leader moved as they spoke, taking each of their faces. “<We knew the Sarentu. Yet none wore these…sky people scraps. Have your spirits been moulded by the sky people or do you remember the ways of your clan?>”

“<Some things I remember, not a lot. My mother’s smile.>” Kìoetey said, her tone coloured with some warmth. “<I cannot speak for the rest of my people here on their personal experience on that. We have a lot to learn and we cannot learn such things from the sky people.>”

“<Ma Mate, it is clear they need guidance and they are here for it. To have Sarentu return to us is a wonderful gift and in such numbers.>” The Tsahìk spoke, “<Aranahe and Sarentu have always had a good relation, let us not judge them upon their start in life and restart them back into our way of life>”

“<And get them into far better and colourful clothes at the very least. They’d frighten the hide off an Angtsìk.>” The woman in yellow spoke, her eyes looking in mild disgust at their clothes. Telisi’s arms came over her front. “<I will happily take them under my wing, Kat’nat>”

Kat’nat eyed them for longer and then nodded softly. “<As you wish, Nefika. They will need time to settle and many hands to guide. I trust you to direct them.>”

“<I will help.>” The Tsahìk said, “<Come. Hometree will welcome you and you can rest your burdens with us. We can celebrate the return of Sarentu.>”

-

Priya sighed deeply but gladly accepted the box Anqa handed straight to her and headed directly into the bathroom, taking a full second to secure the door, shut the lid over the makeshift toilet and set the box into the sink with a huff. The mirror was barely fixed onto the wall but it was functional as she stared at her reflection for a long moment, tilting her head to the slight shadows from under her eyes.

Not good.

They needed more protein; more than what the RDA rations they had stolen had so far. This box’s shortcut wasn’t going to last forever and certainly not when it was shared between the three of them.

She opened it up, took the little pot and filled it with some water first then added the treatments into it; watching the water turn a soft pink before she set the denture glue onto the side before she reached up to her mouth. Sharpening fingernails sunk under the faux teeth but it took force to push each of the five teeth covers out and let them drop each one into the chemicals to clean before she’d eventually put them back in fresh.

The eight from her lower jaw soon joined the rest before she fumbled with her pills, the red pill barely in her hand a second before she swallowed it down and then sighed, taking a second to bare her inherited Vampiric teeth in the mirror. Blunter than a first-generation Dhampyr but… still too sharp for a human. One day they wouldn’t need to cover them.

Just not today.

No one needed to know after all.

Masterlist

[prozac-shaped-urn]

Rules: list your top 5 albums from 5 different artists on a poll so your followers can vote which album they think captures your vibe best.

I was tagged by my friend @droughtofapathy who wisely suggested this trend because it is, in fact, very much up my alley.

Alright SO! Here's the breakdown and I'll give like the ~vibes~ of these too, for those of you who have no idea who these artists are (meaning you DOA).

Rumours is very much spiteful witch classic rock goddess vibes thanks to the multiple breakups and affairs going on with that group in 1976. I don't think anything else can compare to it, to be honest. Every single song is still played on the radio to this day, and 8 of the 10 tracks are singles. It was pretty fucking traumatic for them to make but the music has held up nicely. Christine and Stevie writing songs about their ex-partners while also having affairs with band members and sound crew was........... something. Check out You Make Loving Fun and Dreams for more evidence. (This is kinda cheating but there's another song called Silver Springs that Stevie wrote about Lindsey which was a B-side to his spiteful anthem You Can Go Your Own Way which was written about her. Anyway, Silver Springs really gives him the finger. "I'll follow you down 'till the sound of my voice will haunt you/You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you" is a curse if I have ever heard one. Like FUCK Stevie....... jesus christ woman)

River of Dreams is classic rock, heavy on the piano and bass. Billy's chops are on full display and his writing is clean and clear. It has some underrated bangers like Two Thousand Years and Famous Last Words. The album is overall more symbolic than most of his work. Think literal dreamscape (which is then-wife Christie Brinkley designed the cover art in reference to).

WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO? is indie pop at its finest. Billie and her brother/producer Finneas created something utterly fucking whack and unmistakably brilliant, and it's one of my favorites because Billie's main design when crafting music is using a minor key and 4/4 time, which is like my go-to when finding new music. I love her other works too, but ilomilo sits inside my psyche so well that I forget where I am and let it guide me into a writing flow. I also love bury a friend mainly because the high-pitched whizzing sound bite is a literal dentist drill. Finneas recorded a literal dentist drill to create that sound.

Let's Talk About Love is your typical contemporary love song album with lots of slow and steady major key songs, but Treat Her Like a Lady is my favorite track on the whole thing. I love its reggae rhythm and upbeat anthem sound. A close second is the much slower and moodier Where Is The Love. Also, Celine doesn't write her own music, whereas everyone else on this list does. But I love her sound and her technique is a masterclass.

Dreamboat Annie oh my god... Dreamboat Fucking Annie. What a hell of an album. You've got Magic Man which is a funky, swamp witch type of song, and then you have the frenzied Crazy On You with its wide swinging tomtom hits and strong bass line, and then the sisters on Sing Child is like the female version of The Guess Who's No Time with the beautiful harmonies and HOLY *SHIT* Nancy Wilson can play a guitar. Like oh my GOD can she play a guitar.

I'll tag @jennamacaroni @thestarlightforge @die-schwanenkoenigin and @tinathedragon if y'all haven't done this yet

[daddynektas]

Finished AFITF, and I am conflicted. The first 60% was a chore to get though because it was so painful. It was like being stuck at the dentist for hours to get a crown put on—you know it’s neccessary, and will benefit you in the long run, but it hurts and you hate it.

The parts I did like (Attes) were few and far between until the last third of the book. I felt really deprived of Nektas, and Jadis and Reaver. I really missed the dynamics and interactions amongst all the different side characters. Again, having to spend 60% of the book with just Kolis and Callum was the worst torture.

I am definitely looking forward more to the next book and the parts with Sera being full Primal and Queen of the Gods, and gaining back those full cast interactions. I also do appreciate there was no cliffhanger on this one.

NOW. To the part that I really want to address…did anyone who has read JLA’s book The Fall of Ruin and Wrath, catch this little snippet in chapter 40:

I knew that the Ancients who’d returned to the ground must never, ever return to the surface. Because they were no longer the beginning of everything, the great creators, the givers of life and the balance that kept the realms stable. They were the end that would shake the realms, erupting the tallest mountains, spewing forth flames and clouds that would consume all in its path, turning day to night. They would boil the rivers and turn seas to deserts, laying utter waste to sprawling stone kingdoms and toppling those great steel cities in distant lands. For if they rose, they did so as blood and bone, the ruin and the wrath of that once great beginning.

👀👀

[courseyoulovemeyoudontknowme]

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005, Tim Burton)

29/03/2024

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is a 2005 film directed by Tim Burton.

The film stars Johnny Depp and is based on the novel of the same name by Roald Dahl.

Another adaptation had previously been made from the book in 1971, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, by Mel Stuart, with Gene Wilder, from whom, however, Burton said he did not take inspiration for his, instead trying to return to the spirit original of Dahl's novel.

Charlie Bucket is a poor child who lives with his family, consisting of his parents, his paternal grandparents George and Georgina and his maternal grandparents Joe and Josephine.

One evening grandfather Joe tells Charlie that, years before, he worked in the first shop opened by the man who would become the most famous sweets maker in the world, the enigmatic Willy Wonka. Unfortunately, Wonka's rivals, envious of his sweets and success, sent spies to steal his secret recipes, to the point that Willy Wonka was forced to close the factory, firing his employees.

One day Willy Wonka makes an announcement that shocks the whole world: whoever finds five golden tickets hidden in as many chocolate bars produced by him, which could be found anywhere in the world, will have the opportunity to visit his grandiose factory, and one of the five visitors will win a special prize. As soon as the news spreads, the sweet shops are stormed and, after a short time, the first four tickets are found by four children: Augustus Gloop, from Düsseldorf, Germany, greedy and obese; Veruca Salt, from Buckinghamshire, England, a capricious and spoiled little girl by her rich father; Violet Beauregarde, from Atlanta, Georgia, a vain and arrogant little girl, world bubble gum champion and winner of numerous awards; Mike Teavee from Denver, Colorado, a very intelligent and grumpy child addicted to television and video games.

During the tour of the factory, a series of flashbacks reveal Willy Wonka's past: he was the son of the uncompromising dentist Wilbur Wonka, who made him wear enormous orthodontic braces and didn't allow him even the smallest sweet. One Halloween night, after his father had thrown the sweets he had collected into the fire, little Willy secretly managed to retrieve and eat a chocolate. After closing the factory due to recipe thefts, he decided to reopen it having found new and loyal workers among the indigenous Oompa-Loompas.

During the tour inside the factory, unlike Charlie, the other four children turn out to be unpleasant and disobedient and are involved in various events due to which they leave the scene one after the other: Augustus falls into a river of chocolate from which he was trying to drink and is sucked into a tube that collects the chocolate and takes it to the various departments; Violet tries an experimental chewing gum on herself and swells, transforming into a huge blueberry; Veruca is attacked and thrown into the garbage dump by a group of squirrels trained to shell nets, after trying to catch one; Mike gets teleported by a machine to transfer Wonka Bars to the television and becomes very small.

Charlie Bucket, played by Freddie Highmore.

Willy Wonka, played by Johnny Depp.

Mr. and Mrs. Bucket, played by Noah Taylor and Helena Bonham Carter.

[razzle-zazzle]

Whumptober Day 02: I'll call out your name, but you won't call back

Delirium

1427 Words; PN Rapids AU

TW for injury

AO3 ver

Raz groaned. The pain had only gotten worse since waking up next to the river. His head was pounding, distant sights and sounds passing through it only to elude his memory once they were gone.

Still, he continued to follow Loboto through the trees, trusting in the dentist to know where to go. It wasn’t like Raz knew, after all. Better to follow someone who hadn’t had all of their memories washed away by the water.

(Was that how it worked? Did the water sluice over his head and wash all of the memories away? Was that why his head hurt the way it did?)

Loboto clambered over a fallen… log, that was the word. An overturned tree was a log.

There were still a lot of words that Raz didn’t know, a lot of things that they passed that he couldn’t recognize. But Loboto was “the Greatest Dentist of this Century” which had to be important. And important people knew things, Raz was sure. So it made the most sense to continue following him along.

But still. Ow.

Raz stumbled over—he wasn’t sure. Was the ground (that was the word, ground) supposed to be uneven?—something, he stumbled over something—it didn’t matter what it was called, just that he had stumbled over it—and his arms snapped out to his sides as he took several steps too fast in an effort to keep himself upright. In doing so, he ran smack into the back of Loboto’s… coat and bounced backwards, landing on the ground.

Pain lurched through him like… well, Raz’ everything hurt, and that was what was important, here. The snatches of forgotten memories ceased for a moment—oh, wow, was the world supposed to spin like this?

Loboto said something, but it was lost against the rush of… whatever in Raz’ ears. His chest ached and the thought of getting back up only made his limbs heavy with dread. Yeah, that’s what he was feeling. Dread.

(Such a weird word. Dread. One letter off from dead. That had to be intentional, Raz was sure.

He wasn’t sure what death felt like, but he was sure this had to be pretty close. He couldn’t imagine feeling much worse.)

A gloved hand grabbed Raz by the shoulder, guiding him up until he was sitting. Cool metal pressed against Raz’ forehead. “Well, you don’t seem to be feverish.” Loboto mused. They removed their metal hand from Raz’ forehead, standing back up.

Loboto began to mutter, and for all that Raz tried to pay attention, his words were lost against the throbbing of Raz’ head and the ringing of his ears.

With a sigh, Raz let his eyes slip closed, the back of his head impacting the ground again.

+=+=+=+=+

The problem with finding children washed up on the riverbank was that the water was rarely so kind as to leave them unscathed. Compound that with the lack of supplies resulting from being maybe-but-not-really-on-the-run, and Loboto was faced with quite the conundrum.

The kid had all but agreed to work for them, Loboto thought, so it was Loboto’s responsibility to take care of him. Letting employees fall to harm just wouldn’t do! He was a reformed man!

…Even if they were still trying to figure out what that meant for him.

Well, whatever. Loboto shook his head. Raz had helped him in the past, and now Raz was hurt with nary a single adult figure in sight. Nary a single adult figure but Loboto, who was now obliged to handle this.

Loboto muttered to themself. The kid was injured, and maybe even sick from the dip in the water. Loboto had… none of his tools, not that they would help here. Raz didn’t have any cavities last they’d checked. Tooth care was still very important!! But somehow, Loboto had the distinct feeling that not even pulling teeth could really help Raz out here. What was afflicting the child was something… different. Something that wasn’t tooth-related at all.

Which was way too far from Loboto’s expertise. Oh sure, they’d stolen brains and mutated fish, but that was all behind him now! And even then, Loboto hadn’t been a doctor, and they sure weren’t now!

Well. He was a tooth doctor, but, as previously established, that wouldn’t help them here.

Loboto turned back to Raz. The kid probably needed rest, but this was hardly the place for it, they were sure. Raz had already gone back to laying down in the dirt, eyes closed—

Shit.

“You better not be dead.” Loboto muttered, leaning back over him. They poked at Raz’ face. No response.

The kid’s chest did seem to be moving, though, so he probably wasn’t dead. Yet.

“C’mon c’mon c’mon,” Loboto all but whined, “You gotta get up, kid.” The longer they stayed in these woods, the longer they were unable to access supplies. Loboto was not cut out for foraging, they were sure.

But Raz remained out of it, lost to the world. Loboto was half-tempted to simply pick up the kid and continue on, but they should at least make sure he was alright to be moved, first. Right?

Ugh. Children could be so fiddly, sometimes. Surely Loboto had never been so confounding.

With nothing better to do, Loboto sat down, continuing to poke at Raz’ chest. The kid would have to wake up eventually.

Right?

+=+=+=+=+

Raz floated.

That was really the only way he could describe it. He was floating, limbs splayed out around him in the nothingness that stretched around him. He couldn’t tell up from down, couldn’t tell if he was moving at all. He simply existed, cold tugging at him as he floated.

There was something familiar about the sensation, though—or maybe that was why he was feeling this, maybe his brain was only making all of this up based on what it could remember.

…Where did that thought come from? His brain making things up? That didn’t make sense. What even was a brain, anyway, and what would it have to make up?

An open door, a tugging sensation under his scalp.

Twisting colors, frustration stinging under his scalp like ants, weightlessness propelling him along, color turned gray and slow, playing cards, giant teeth, milk, tiny screaming voices, ringing bells, rolling squelching, red lights and loud music, squirmy bugs, flowers, water, water, water, water everywhere, water coming to HURT HIM—

Raz jolted. His head screamed at him, painfully. He tumbled, end over end—

Blue and green fabric, bright lights, loud thoughts and voices, rough hands in his own, catching him, holding him, making sure he’d never fall—

Raz reached out desperately for the memory. That was important. It had to be. If he could only just—

Nothing. Blue and green fabric melted together into nothing in his brain. A sense of longing filled Raz, but no matter how hard he reached, there was nothing for him to grab. Nothing for him to remember.

The nothing spun. Light erupted throughout the nothingness, a scratchy voice pulling Raz back.

The world came into existence around him. The ground was rough beneath him, sunlight coming down in dappled beams through the leaves on the trees. Loboto was leaning over him, poking at his chest.

“We need to get out of these woods.” Loboto decided.

Bereft of any other course to take, Raz nodded. He had to trust the dentist; he had little other choice. There was nobody else in his memory—and even if there was, how could he be so sure that they’d help him? How could he be sure that the longing he felt wasn’t in some way misplaced? That it wasn’t for something rather than someone?

Raz knew so little about everything, thanks to the river, and that left him so utterly dependent on Loboto. So he shoved the pain to the back of his mind and stood up.

A gloved hand wrapped around his midsection, lifting him up and bracing him against Loboto’s side. “This should be faster.” They declared, “And you shouldn’t be walking on your leg right now anyway. Wouldn’t want it to get worse!”

As they set off, Raz tucked against the dentist like… well, he was more or less hanging from the arm wrapped around him, his arms and legs kind of dangling before he got it in his head to grasp at the fabric of Loboto’s coat.

But as they set off, at a faster pace, Raz let himself relax.

He knew so little about everything, thanks to the river—

But he’d make it with Loboto’s help, he was sure.

[admiredentalfallriveer]

Family Dentist Fall River

Teeth whitening performed by a dentist is a simple, quick, and safe way to improve the appearance of your smile.

[yyuryyubicuryy4me]

it is my turn to clean the entire apartment every fifth Saturday but sometimes i clean parts of it anyway because i believe in living in a clean apartment #real . when i put on the gloves and get the rags i enter an altered state of consciousness called “bloodlust.” i get into an 18+ restricted access log into see this content fist fight with the toilet and I FUCKING WIN. EVERY TIME.

one week it was Betty Boop’s turn to clean [NOT her real name] but she was, of course, in Japan (such a convenient excuse). i wish i could describe the faces i saw from my roommates when they saw me cleaning for her. hello? i’m not just doing this so the landlady doesn’t get mad at us, i believe in living in a clean apartment #real and also some of you don’t know how to put onion skins in the trash can instead of right next to it.

i wish other people enjoyed cleaning as much as me, sometimes i walk in the kitchen ready to create some sort of edible goop for myself, only to find the traces of some noxious gurgling Witches’ Brew which double bubble toil and troubled over the river and through the woods onto everything and every corner and every crevice in the kitchen. god damn it! now this is a situation where you would usually just act a little disappointed in the group chat, maybe even pull out the @ if it’s that dire, but also i don’t want to be cooking my gay little spaghetti with crusted-over Potion of Slow Falling II just picometers away… so the soapy scent of Generic Cleaner floats from the open bottle into my ample nostrils (wtf? ample?), and my eyes turn all black like that one shark in Finding Nemo, and i reach down, and it begins again… no, the stovetop is no stranger to the elbow grease of my right bicep, formed after years of intense dental hygiene that ruins every toothbrush within weeks but also gets me clompliments from the dentist… God gives and takes.

[april-is]

April 25, 2023: Still Life with Nursing Bra, Keetje Kuipers

Still Life with Nursing Bra Keetje Kuipers

Fall open, unfold me. Hook and eye undone with one hand, fingers that know their way now in the dark. You contain me: underwire circling my breasts in half-bangle like the copper bracelets lemniscating wrists of women who’ve never worn bras, never held back their multitudes. You of the hidden crab-apple bruise yellowing on my chest. You of her ecstasy, eyes rolled back in her head, hands in her sweat- damp hair. You: milk that rivers down my skin, shimmering of hunger, the want of a wet mouth. Nursing bra—black, nude, electric orange and lace-trimmed, tucked in the back of the drawer or hung dangling from a doorknob—I once fumbled with you, stale of the dentist’s lobby cut by a thin mewling that made us all shiver, the waiting room’s terrified ripple as I struggled with the clasp that kept me from spilling open. Instead, the leaking through, a sticky flower blooming down my chest, until I wrenched you free, flapping and fearless, one wing taking flight from my breast.

--

More like this: » Only she who has breast-fed, Vera Pavlova » The Cambridge Afternoon Was Gray, Alicia Ostriker » After the First Child, the Second, Mary Austin Speaker » Morning Song, Sylvia Plath » First Night, D. Nurkse » When Your Small Form Tumbled into Me, Tracy K. Smith

Today in: 

2022: A Small-Sized Mystery, Jane Hirshfield 2021: Prayer for My Unborn Niece or Nephew, Ross Gay 2020: Vigil, Phillis Levin 2019: Nights in the Neighborhood, Linda Gregg 2018: I Dreamed Again, Anne Michaels 2017: wishes for sons, Lucille Clifton 2016: Told You So, Keetje Kuipers 2015: Accident, Mass. Ave., Jill McDonough 2014: This Hour and What Is Dead, Li-Young Lee 2013: To Myself, Franz Wright 2012: Manet’s Olympia, Margaret Atwood 2011: Three Rivers, Alpay Ulku 2010: Ode to Hangover, Dean Young 2009: We become new, Marge Piercy 2008: The Only Animal, Franz Wright 2007: Dream Song 385, John Berryman 2006: The Quiet World, Jeffrey McDaniel 2005: Man and Wife, Robert Lowell

[thelandofbritain]

Watch "Sir Michael Marmot on the 'grim reality' of poverty in Britain."

The decline and fall of Britain under a Tory government for 14 years.

Everything is fine for the wealthy tax dodgers who support the Tory Party, but the rest of us are going under...

Poor health, no affordable housing, the rise of charitable foodbanks to support those in poverty, sewage in our rivers and seashores, unaffordable energy prices, failing healthcare system, no affordable dentists, exorbitant rail fares and poor local council services... the list goes on.

[existslikepristin]

can you explan what the deal is with vivi?

No. Fuck Vivi and, consequently, fuck you, probably. If you aren't somehow already in the know about how stupid and useless Vivi is, then frankly she doesn't deserve to enjoy any of the food she eats. Vivi needs to trip on a piece of garbage (to be clear, she could accomplish this by tripping over her own feet, as it were, because Vivi is garbage). If I had one extra minute to live for every dumb thing Vivi did, I would be immortal by now. Vivi is so stupid, unrelated diseases have been named after her. Nine out of ten dentists agree that Vivi is the worst because the tenth dentist misheard the question and later retracted their decision after realizing the harm such an incorrect opinion was causing. She is a couple nuggets short of a four piece, if you know what I'm saying. Long ago, a scorpion needed to cross a river and asked Vivi for a ride across, but once she was a few steps into the water the scorpion decided to fall off without stinging her and fucking drown because she wasn't worth the venom. I'd rather live through another, somehow worse economic recession than pass within twelve meters of Vivi on the street.

[forestraydentists]

Haringey

The London Borough of Haringey is a London borough, north London, classified by some definitions as part of Inner London, and by others as part of Outer London. It was created in 1965 by the amalgamation of three former boroughs. It shares borders with six other London boroughs. Clockwise from the north, they are: Enfield, Waltham Forest, Hackney, Islington, Camden, and Barnet. Haringey covers an area of more than . Some of the more familiar local landmarks include Alexandra Palace, Bruce Castle, Jacksons Lane, Highpoint I and II, and Tottenham Hotspur Football Club. The borough has extreme contrasts: areas in the west, such as Highgate, Muswell Hill and Crouch End are among the most prosperous in the country; in the east of the borough, some wards are classified as being among the most deprived 10% in the country. Haringey is also a borough of contrasts geographically. From the wooded high ground around Highgate and Muswell Hill, at , the land falls sharply away to the flat, open low lying land beside the River Lea in the east. The borough includes large areas of green space, which make up more than 25% of its total area. The local authority is Haringey London Borough Council. In recent years, Haringey Council has become the subject of nationwide criticism over its handling of the welfare of young children in connection with the murder of Victoria Climbié and the death of Baby P. In March 2009, Haringey Council’s performance was placed by the Audit Commission in the bottom four of the country and the worst in London. In December 2009, Haringey’s performance was placed by Ofsted in the bottom nine in the country for children’s services. The Council’s Children’s Services has significantly improved over the last two years. A series of positive Ofsted inspections culminated in the service being taken out of ‘special measures’ by the government in February 2013.

Driving directions to Forest and Ray Dentist Driving directions to Islington

Originally published here: https://forestray.dentist/kb/haringey/