#woodworking joints

[koffclubindia]

What are the functions of woodworking joints?

Woodworking joints are used to join two or more pieces of wood together to create a larger, more complex structure. The primary functions of woodworking joints are:

Strength: The joint must be strong enough to hold the weight and stress of the structure without breaking or failing.

Stability: The joint must be stable enough to keep the structure from wobbling or collapsing.

Flexibility: The joint should be designed to allow for natural movement and expansion of the wood due to changes in temperature and humidity.

Aesthetics: The joint should be visually pleasing and complement the overall design of the structure.

Ease of assembly: The joint should be easy to assemble and disassemble to allow for repairs and maintenance.

There are many different types of woodworking joints, each with its own unique advantages and functions. Some common types of woodworking joints include butt joints, lap joints, dovetail joints, mortise and tenon joints, and biscuit joints. The type of joint used will depend on the specific application and requirements of the structure being built.

Koffclub India provides d4 premium wood adhesive to bond wooden stuff.

[icy-book]

Consider, if you will, AU (either with canon post-s1 pre-s2 events but D.A.D.D.I.E.S. solves things before season 2 would start, or no Doodler/betrayal but Nicky still has to leave because FBI or other reasons) in which Terry Jr is the full time drama teacher for Teen High. Nicky returns from wherever he's been and is like "Well I want to be an active part of my kid's life and try and make up for lost time. I should go to his parents' evening, find out how he's doing in school, and meet his teachers. Especially this Mr Marlowe guy, Taylor seems to think he's awesome." And walking right into that classroom/hall to find his ex-boyfriend best friend sitting there in a dorky sweater and tie combo

Cue Terry, without missing a beat, greeting them as if nothing is wrong

Internal: when the FUCK did he come back and oh my god this is so awkward fuck I have to be professional how do I tell this guy that his kid is a loveable little shit after everything that's happened oh god oh fuck

Externally: "Hello Taylor and Mr Close-Foster-Freeman. I'm Taylor's drama teacher" *shakes hand* "Would you like to take a seat?"

[amphipodiel]

Here's the baby I've been working on for a week. I'm about to paint it. It will act as an alternative plynth for all the dolls i've made so far.

[tfidgen]

Busting out the Stanley No. 08 to joint the edge of the lower shelf. The Showcase Cabinet continues on today’s episode of An Unplugged Life…details on the Unplugged Woodshop website. #theunpluggedwoodshop #jointingplane #woodworker #woodworkerlife #woodwork #stanleyno8 #vintagehandplane #jointing #handtoolsonly #unpluggedwoodworking #madebyhand #anunpluggedlife #toronto #leslieville #unplugged (at The Unplugged Woodshop) https://www.instagram.com/p/CjRh0s8uXpG/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[nick-momrik]

Universal Box Joint Jig by KM Tools

[thecatdragon589]

silver ring and box.

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

[geocyclist]

Band saw dovetail jig, 1:8 slope

[md3artjournal]

Watch "Simple & Strong Dowel Joint #shorts" on YouTube

[makswoodworking]

Woodworking Joinery Techniques: A Comprehensive Guide for All Skill Levels

Woodworking joinery techniques are an essential part of any woodworker’s skillset, as they help create sturdy and visually appealing connections between wooden parts. In this article, we will delve into some popular woodworking joinery techniques, discuss their applications, and provide step-by-step instructions for mastering them. Whether you’re a seasoned woodworker or just starting, this guide…

[artmanutah]

Maple Box with stainless steel quoins - 2022

www.manfulldesign.com

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Easy Money

Derek Danforth x AFAB!Reader

Summery: Minimum wage is a joke these days and we've all gotta make rent somehow. And who knew blonds could be so fun?

Tags: AFAB/Female pronouns reader, no use of y/n, voyeurism, sex worker!Reader, drug use (marijuana), sex while high, drinking, cursing, bisexual Reader, fetish party, reader plays with several people, tempature play/improper use of ice cubes, sex toys, possessive!Derek, dick piercing (I will not debate this,) face fucking, breast play, oral sex (male recieving), thigh riding, cock warming, cowgirl and doggy position, praising, pet names, edging, rough sex, spanking, vaginal fingering, degradation, dumbification if you squint, dacrophillia. There is no plot. This is just porn. Straight up.

Notes: Y'all begged to me, now y'all begging to your man. You're welcome. Also, please consume substances responsibly. Do NOT assume an edible ain't shit. They ALWAYS are.

                       •°○《▪︎☆▪︎》○°•

The gig is simple. Stand there and look pretty.

The woman who had hired all of us was very clear on the rules; serve drinks, talk to the men, don't have a brain, and if Derek Danforth gives you an ounce of attention, you return it. Sex was optional, but they pay less if you do not engage.

I was just there for the check. Times are hard, but this dress is easy to fit into... if I don't breathe. Jesus, it's tight.

The architecture of the mansion is beautiful. Really, if I wasn't working this party I'd be studying every room for an hour each. High ceilings, detailed woodwork. It's a shame it's all bathed in purple blacklights with everyone wearing neon glowsticks.

The people in attendance are in various states of undress. Some wear their clothes fully, some wear nothing at all. Most are in various states of undress, including the waitresses.

All of our dresses are the same- tight, black, and an easily detachable top with nipple pasties underneath in the shape of blacklight activated glow stars. It's tacky, but the girls who have removed their tops are getting way more tips. And with the debt I'm in, plus the security making absolute sure no camera are recording anything, what's the harm in if I join them? It's more money for me.

The various trays contain different things. Some drinks or shots, others different foods. Then there's the drugs. Oh yes. Cocaine, pills, capped needles on at least one tray I noticed. On mine are several marijuana joints, blunts and even edibles. Our employer had told us we were allowed to indulge, but any damages caused due to our inebriation would come out of our check.

Edibles usually aren't shit for me, so I feel quite safe.

A strawberry cube is tucked safely under my tongue, taking a long while to melt. I can feel my muscles relaxing, making me smile more to the guests as I work my way through the crowd. The beginning gentle buzz helps me to forget the way these people leer at me, some even reaching over to touch me before retracting their hands quickly.

"These guests are quite used to casual sex," the woman had informed us. "There's a code here. You'll each have a pendant around your neck. Depending on the color you choose it will inform them of your preference. Red is for looking only, green means you're okay with sexual touch. It's up to your verbal communication if that touch leads to penetration."

The party was tacky, but at least consent was key.

My color currently is red. It will take more of this edible for anything to change. And currently I see no one making the trouble worth it, anyways.

Right now, anyways.

A man with bright, blond tipped hair and a loud outfit works his way through the crowd. Laughing and speaking with some, taking in the different women serving different items. There's a confident swagger in his walk, one that normally I would scoff at when sober. But with the melting cube quickly joining my bloodstream, I simply stare curiously. It's unintentional, honestly. But he takes notice, narrowing his eyes in reciprocated curiosity before making his way over.

"You're new," he says. I offer him the tray.

"I don't know what you mean," I say politely. He picks up a large blunt, taking out his own lighter instead of using one of the complementary ones on the tray. He takes a long pull, shoving the item back into his snakeskin jacket pocket that doesn't match his zebra print, silk looking button up with black leather pants.

"The other girls have been working here for awhile. Who brought you here?" He asks after taking a long pull, holding it.

"Riley," I answer. He nods, exhaling.

"She's worked here a couple years. You two close?" He asks.

Not particularly. "We're friends," I answer. He smiles a bit, taking another hit.

"You like the party?" He asks.

"I like the lighting," I answer. "And I can't say no to free edibles."

"You take some?" He asks. In answer I scoop the edible onto my tongue and stick it out for him to see. "Good girl, that shit will make you relaxed."

"How much is it?" I ask curiously. Can't be too much, surely.

"Told my guys to pick up 1000mgs," he answers, taking another hit.

... what?

My confusion must be obvious.

"You not used to that?" He chuckles, leaning against the wall next to me.

"I induldge regularly, just... lower amounts," I answer. He exhales, laughing.

"You'll have fun then. Especially if you change your color to green, but that's completely up to you," he says. There's a moment of silence between us before I speak up.

"Nice outfit," I say. He raises a brow at me.

"Yeah?" He asks, scanning me up and down. "I think I prefer yours."

"It matches better, that's for sure," I say. He laughs, then sticks out his hand, his smile confident.

"I'm Derek, by the way."

"Ah," I say. Derek.

Derek!

"Nice to meet you, Mister Danforth," I say, accepting his hand. It's warm and large, strong against mine.

"I don't want to hear Mister out of you unless you change colors, pretty girl," he says, squeezing my hand. I feel myself smiling, heart fluttering a little.

"And what would happen if I did change it, Mister?" I ask politely. His grin widens.

"Well, with the way you look already I'd say people would have a fun time with you," he says, stepping closer. "I wouldn't mind a taste myself. I like my girls warmed up, though."

"Warmed up?" I ask, raising my brow.

"I'll tell you what," he says. "You're welcome to leave your tray anywhere, as I'm sure they've told you. You can change your color to green, enjoy your edible and just let the crowd guide you to me. I promise they will." His eyes roam over me, taking me in with a hungry gaze, his mind distracted by obvious thoughts. I wonder how well his shoulders would hold me.

Shit. He's right, this is strong. The herbal smell on his breath is inviting, and I'm already leaning in. Plus, his outfit is beginning to make visually stimulating sense.

"Isn't it polite for a host to show his guest around?" I ask, batting my lashes. I can feel my eyes drying out, my cheeks buzzing and my body beginning to feel the bass of the music just a little bit more than I was a second ago.

"It is, pretty girl," Derek says, taking another hit. "But you're not a guest, are you?"

No, I'm not. I begin to pull away when his hand catches my pendant.

"You want me to get that for you?" He asks, exhaling through his nose.

"Yes sir," I answer with a smile, placing my tray carefully on the table beside me.

"Good girl," he praises, changing the color with a quick flick of his thumb. "You'll fit in just fine."

Before I can respond, his lips attach to my neck, sucking earnestly and harshly. I can't help the small cry that escapes me, my hand finding his hair and burying itself in it as he pins me against the wall.

His hand cups my breast, kneeding it carefully as he creates patterns across my skin with his mouth, licking at the newly bruised flesh before moving on to a new, unmarked area. He holds his blunt up for me, trying to keep it still enough to allow me to take a hit. I accept, holding his hand steady by the wrist, inhaling as much as I can.

His lips detach from my throat, his eyes red and glazed over as his lips graze mine.

"Care to share?" He asks lowly, his fingers still tweaking at my nipple. I'm vaguely aware that my pasties have been removed, where they've gone to I've no clue.

Obediently, I blow the smoke into Derek's mouth, his hand leaving my breast to cup my jaw, holding my mouth open with his large thumb. Once I'm done he takes his own hit, holding it for a moment before pressing his lips against mine, sealing them together before blowing the smoke into my mouth as well. His tongue slides against mine, tasting of whiskey and smoke. I don't hate the way it blends with the sweet, surgery strawberry cube still melting under my tongue.

He pulls away slightly, breathing heavily.

"You taste sweet," he says. "Mind if I try some?"

"Go ahead," I answer. I expect him to take an edible from the tray, but instead he leans in again, his tongue searching for the half melted candy. He finds it under my tongue, slipping it onto his and then pulling away, smiling in satisfaction.

"Oh," I breathe, batting my lashes in surprise.

"I'll trade you," he says, pressing a small kiss to my cheek as he passes the blunt to me. "Just let the crowd lead you, sweet girl. I'll see you in a bit."

Before I can even think of a response, he slips amongst the crowd, gone in the blink of a hazy eye.

Alright. This is fine. Great, actually. I take a hit of the sour tasting blunt and begin walking amongst the crowd.

Derek was right, I am an eye catcher. Or maybe these people aren't particularly picky. But it doesn't take long at all before people are touching me, sliding their hands over my hips as I pass by, stopping me for a moment to press me against their bodies, leaving a mark or three on my skin. The attention makes my mind blank, smiles on my lips as I whisper 'thank you's, the patrons slipping tips into the tight pockets of my skirt as they release me, letting me blend into the crowd once more until someone else catches me.

I should be revolted, I know this. But the people aren't hard to look at, and with as much as I have flowing through my system all I can really think about is how amazing I feel. My joints feel like air is passing straight through them, my head feels light and free of racing thoughts. The lights entrance me, making me easily distractable until a woman guides me gently towards her group, placing me on her lap as she talks with what I'm guessing are work colleagues. Or something. Fuck if I care.

Her hand strokes my back carefully, not speaking to me as I continue hitting my almost burnt out blunt. She glances at me from time to time, smiling sweetly as she watches me.

"Can I have some?" The older woman asks gently. Her lips are painted a dark black, revealing white teeth underneath. Her features are sharp, contoured by heavy makeup. Her hair is shaggy and black, and God, she's... broad. Muscular and looking like she could eat me alive. I wouldn't mind if she tried.

I hand her the last little bit, letting her have what remains as I begin to focus on her hair. It's soft, feeling amazing between my fingers.

"You have anywhere you need to be for the rest of the night?" She asks, her voice deep.

"Derek," I breathe, barely focusing. She and the other women amongst her let out a noise of recognition, some even laughing a little.

"He likes his girls pent up," Another says, nodding. "Says he likes them used, but we all know that's not true."

"Derek likes to go for hours," warns a woman with blue hair that glows in the blacklight. "Hope you have a lot of energy saved up. If he likes you, you won't go home for days."

The woman with black hair is finishing the blunt, flicking away the last little bit and letting it land wherever.

"You mind if we help you?" She asks.

"No," I answer, my hands running over her broad, leather covered shoulders. "I don't mind."

The women aw over me, moving closer and touching different parts of me.

"Focus on my thigh, good girl," says the dark haired one. "Just rock yourself against it and let me know when you're close." She turns to the second woman, nodding her head towards me. "You want to taste her?"

The second woman nods, joining me on her lap and grinding herself against the first woman's other thigh before bending over to wrap her lips around my nipple, moaning as she does.

The third woman, the one with blue hair, simply watches, continuing to talk to the dark haired woman, stroking my back as she does. The first woman seems engaged in the conversation, occasionally sucking on my other breast before responding to the blue haired woman. The second woman is fully engrossed in tasting me, sucking and nipping at my breast eagerly, moaning as she does.

The stimulation feels amazing, my head tilted back as I rock on the dark haired woman's thigh, my body feeling things it never has before. The feeling of two women sliding their tongues across my sensitive nipples, sucking on them at the same time at different paces is almost enough on its own to make me cum. I can feel how wet I am even through my underwear, surely staining the first woman's clothes.

"Shit, Ava. She may not make it to Derek at this point," laughs the blue haired woman. The first woman, Ava, simply smiles, admiring me.

"Should we let you cum, good girl? Or do you want Derek?" She asks, bouncing her leg as she does.

I moan loudly, my mind unable to form a response. This is lovely, just absolutely wonderful. But something tells me that if I waited, if I edged myself like Derek seemed to prefer, then I would be well rewarded.

"Wait," I pant, still rocking my hips against her thigh. The three women groan, laughing a little more as they begin to give me space.

"You think she's good enough for him?" Ava asks the second woman.

"If she's not, he's out of his mind," she says, tearing herself away from my breast and standing to move onto the blue haired woman's lap instead.

Ava guides me off of her before standing tall and admittedly terrifying. She pulls me up gently, taking my hand and leading me through the room. "Follow me, sweet girl," she says. "I'll take you to the main event."

The other two women wave at me, smiling wickedly before turning their focus onto each other. As the drugs begin to hit harder, just a little ways from my peak, I begin to wonder what it is I've really gotten myself into.

A pair of double doors reveal the same dyed blond man on a plush couch, lounging lazily as he speaks to a small group of people in the private lounge. Upon seeing me guided into the room, he smiles eagerly, quickly sitting up.

"I told you you'd find me," he says, setting his whiskey glass in front of him on the small, glass table.

I smile warmly at him, trying to keep my balance as I walk around to him.

"You get her all ready for me, Ava?" He asks, gently placing his hands on my hips and guiding me to sit on his lap, my back pressed against his chest.

"I did," the woman says, joining us. "She's pretty pent up."

"Did she get you pent up, pretty girl?" Derek asks, laughing softly. I can feel the blush in my cheeks, my eyes barely able to stay open as I lean my head back onto his shoulder.

"Feel her if you don't believe me," Ava offers. Derek obliges, dipping his hand between my thighs, pushing my thin panties to the side.

"Fuck," he groans. "You weren't kidding."

Derek guides my legs to spread open, one hand keeping me open for everyone to watch as his other hand explores my vulva.

"Don't worry about everyone else," he whispers in my ear. "We're all just here for a good time. Right, pretty girl?"

I nod, moaning as his finger swirls around my clit. He continues speaking to his friends, drinking casually as his hand toys with me.

"You want some?" He asks, offering me the glass. I shake my head. I'm fucked up enough.

"Water?" He asks. At that I nod, and with the quick snap of his fingers it only takes a blink before he's holding a water in front of me, complete with ice cubes inside.

"Go ahead," he says. "Take a drink."

I obediently lean forward, placing my bottom lip on the edge as Derek tips the water into my mouth. It's soothing at first, my body relishing the cold rush it gives me. Derek's hand glides up and down my folds, teasing my entrance.

"You like the cold?" Derek asks. I try to respond, forgetting the glass in front of me. The water spills down onto my body, freezing and making me cry out in shock at the sudden sensation.

Derek and his friends laugh, his lips pressing soothing kisses along my shoulder blade.

"I'm sorry, were you not ready for that?" He asks sweetly, smiling at me. I shake my head. He places the glass on the table in front of us, collecting a couple of ice cubes before leaning back and adjusting me to face him.

"Let's get you prepped then, yeah?" He asks, popping one into his mouth and chewing.

My eyes widen, mouth opening in question just before Derek wraps his own lips around my nipples, sucking gently and swirling the quickly chewed cube around the hard bud.

"Fuck!" I cry, leaning backwards. Ava catches me, stroking my hair as she watches.

"I knew he'd like you," Ava says in my ear. "He likes breaking in the new girls personally."

Derek's fingers tease my entrance, threatening to dip in while he sucks on my breast, moaning around the cold flesh. He swirls his spit around, rubbing my clit with his thumb.

"You taste amazing," he moans, his breath cold. "Love to taste more."

I moan happily, spreading my legs more and bucking against his hand.

"Take me," I moan. "Do whatever you want."

"Jesus, she's excited," he laughs. "How long has it been, sweet girl?"

Too long. Much too long.

It must be obvious based on the way he trails lower, kissing and sucking on my skin as he begins to slip my skirt and underwear off of my lower body.

"Is this okay?" He asks, looking up at me expectantly. I nod eagerly, rolling my hips towards him impatiently.

"I don't think she likes teasing, Derek," Ava comments.

"No?" He laughs. "Do you like teasing, sweet girl?"

I shake my head slightly, whining. He and Ava laugh, Derek placing a kiss on my stomach.

"Well, I don't want to go too fast, new girl," he says. "Could break you, you know."

"No you won't," I whine. Derek sucks sharply on the spot, leaving a dark mark.

"Gonna have to teach her a thing or two, aren't I, Ava?" He asks. "You know where that toy is?"

"What toy?" I ask.

"Don't you worry about a thing, pretty girl," Derek instructs. "I'm gonna take care of everything for you now. Just relax."

Ava removes herself from the couch, disappearing to look for something. As I'm distracted, Derek slips an ice cube into my warm cunt.

"Ah!" I cry out sharply, arching my back as my hips roll automatically, unsure what to do to relieve myself. "It's cold."

Derek simply laughs, sitting up straight and dragging me onto his thick thigh.

"It's supposed to be," he says mockingly. "That'll work in the meantime while we wait for Ava to come back."

I start to grind against his thigh, my cunt clenching around the cold cube rapidly as I feel the melting water begin to drip out of me. Derek pulls my hair, tutting his tongue against his teeth as he shakes his head.

"Stay still, that's an order," he says sharply. Someone offers him a cigarette, which he takes with no hesitation. When someone offers me one as well, he waves them away.

"She's had enough," he says. He keeps his hand in my hair, keeping a close eye on me to make sure I don't move.

"You enjoying the party?" He asks me.

"Yes," I say.

"Yes what?" He asks, taking a drag.

"Yes, sir?" I say. He smiles.

"Good. You're smart." He turns his attention to a man asking about some account, rambling something about bitcoin and such. Ugh. I don't know why I'm surprised.

I keep my hands clasped behind my back, pressing my chest forward to allow him easy access. This pleases him, his smile growing genuine whenever he glances my way. Once he bounces his leg, making me squirm for more. At that, he pulls my hair, shaming me for breaking the rule.

"Behave," he commands sharply. A few minutes later, however, he bounces his leg again. This time he doesn't stop.

The jolting motion sends shockwaves through my system, the drugs making me weak and stupid. He's not watching me, seeming involved in the conversation, and this ice cube is nearly melted inside of my cunt, dripping more and more. I can't handle this.

I shift my hips subtly, testing the waters. He doesn't notice, and if he does he doesn't care. I do it again, slightly harder against his thigh. Derek is talking about some party in Havana, laughing about a different conquest. I work slowly, making sure he won't turn his eye onto me. Finally, after a few minutes of grinding against him, I feel confident enough to begin a slow, steady rhythm against his thigh, his leg still bouncing against me.

My body feels amazing. Light, stimulation pounding throughout me, it only takes a few minutes before I'm on edge again, my pussy making his thigh slick and easy to grind against as I ride him. My cheeks burn with heat, my eyes eyes fluttering shut as I lose myself in the rhythm, fully focused on how hard his leg is bouncing. The vibrations go right to my clit, making my pussy seize around nothing now as my pulsing heat had caused the cube to disappear. I begin to grind faster and faster, desperate to cum. I don't realize I've begun panting, moaning as I ride him, and the attention in the room has turned towards me in full with Derek rubbing his hand up and down my back slowly, grazing his nails across the skin of my back as he watches with a look that makes him look like the cat who ate the canary.

"You close, sweet girl?" He asks me. My blush deepens, my eyes fluttering open in realization. Derek simply quirks a brow at me, exhaling his smoke into my face as he waits for my answer. My hips stutter, hesitating to continue.

"Don't get shy," Derek scolds. "You were just fine fucking yourself a moment ago. What's a few dozen people watching you?" He asks.

People are chuckling now, making small comments of encouragement.

"You looked so pretty, baby. Fucking yourself stupid on my thigh," he says as his lips tease my tits. "Didn't she look pretty, everyone?" He asks the room, glancing around at the people who respond with affirmations.

I lean forward, trying to hide my face in the crook of his neck. What had I been doing? In front of this entire room? I'd just needed a few quick bucks, that's all this was supposed to be. This was exponentially further than I'd ever planned.

Derek tuts, pulling me away from my hiding place. "Oh no, you wanted to cum. I'm going to make sure you cum," he chides. "I wonder how you'd feel on my cock. Would you like that? You'd feel better if you were on my cock, wouldn't you?"

I nod shyly, my eyes avoiding everyone but Derek. He glances around the room once more, noises of encouragement growing louder.

"You wanna get me ready, baby?" He asks encouragingly, taking one of my hands from behind my back and guiding it to his stiff, clothed cock.

I gasp lightly, squeezing it and grazing my thumb up and down his dick covered by the tight, leather material.

"You look big," I mutter.

"Feel big too," he chuckles. "Go on, try it out. I think you'll like it."

I think I will.

It's hard to see in the odd lighting, so my hands struggle with the hidden zipper.

"Try getting closer," Derek teases, his breath warm against my ear. "It doesn't bite like I do." To emphasize his point, he sinks his teeth into my neck, harsh and quick before releasing me, leaning back in his chair. The sudden movement makes me dizzy, my mind reeling as I automatically sink to my knees in front of the plush, velvet sofa.

Once his pants are opened, he springs out, no underwear confining him. Jesus. He's mostly average, leaning towards the larger side. It's mostly the piercing that surprises me.

"Like it?" He asks. I glance up at him, his grin cocky as he takes a drag from his new cigarette. Hey, man. What happens if I swallow this?

I stammer, opening my mouth and trying to say something.

"You need help?" He asks, wrapping his hand decorated with several rings around his shaft. "Open your mouth again," he commands. I do so without hesitation. His other hand guides my head down, forcing me to swallow it halfway down. I moan in satisfaction, my eyes slowly shutting as I take in the taste of his skin.

"Atta girl. Take a minute if you need to," he says casually. I can smell the thick smoke near my head, his hand stroking my hair gently. Ava must have returned because he's telling someone how warm my mouth is.

"You ready, sweetheart?" He asks. "Wanna show you off for my friends."

Taking a deep breath and opening my eyes once more, I lower myself slowly to his base. He's just long enough that when his piercing collides with my uvula I cough, nearly choking on him. More gentle laughter escapes the crowd, Derek praising me as he begins to thrust into my mouth.

"Just stay there, sweetheart," he says. "I'll do the work."

True to his word, Derek begins pumping his dick in and out of my mouth, whispering something in Ava's ear. I begin taking in the other people around the room, most of them watching us eagerly.

"Watch me, sweetheart," he commands, snapping his fingers and pointing at himself. "You don't have anywhere to look but here."

I obey, keeping my eyes trained on him as he smokes his cigarette which rests between his lips, his jaw gritted as he rolls his hips into my throat, his eyes glazed over in pleasure and who knows what else.

Without warning, someone begins fingering my cunt. A startled moan escapes me, vibrating around Derek's throbbing cock and making him moan, his face confident.

"Don't worry baby, it's just Ava," he says, stroking my hair. "You like Ava, right?"

I moan again, Ava's fingers quick and shallow in my tight pussy.

"Ava certainly likes you. Almost stole you from me, isn't that right?" He asks her, tapping his cherry carelessly onto the floor behind him.

"That's right," her deep voice purrs in my ear. I moan again, my eyes almost fluttering shut from pleasure until Derek grabs my hair, fucking my face roughly to bring my attention back to him.

"Hey now, don't get too happy," he scolds, but he's smiling. "You still like me more, right baby?"

I moan, pressing my tongue to his underside as he slides in and out. He tastes sweet, his jewelry creating an interesting feeling in the back of my throat. Ava withdraws her fingers, quickly replacing them with a vibrating bullet instead.

"Mmph!" I moan, my eyes nearly fluttering shut again. The speed increases, making me drip and writhe my hips against nothing.

"God, she's fun," Derek moans. "Ava, book her for Cabo," he says.

Cabo??

"You like her that much?" Ava laughs. Derek simply glares at her. Is this a thing? Trading girls, fighting over them? What is this?

"Just fucking talk to whoever about it," he spits, his dick quickening in my throat. I'm gagging around him, barely able to catch my breath as I press my hands desperately against his thighs. "Anyone else fuck her tonight?"

"Don't know," Ava shrugs. She brings her face close to mine, her breath hot in my ear. "Did they?"

I moan, trying to shake my head. Derek nods, smiling.

"Perfect," he drawls. The bullet inside of me is driving me insane, enough to keep me on the edge of pleasure but not enough to tip me over. My eyes look up at him, wide and begging, tears beginning to spill from my waterline and streaming down my face.

"You're killing her," Ava scolds him. "Is he being mean?" She asks me. Yes.

"She can take it," Derek says. "You like it a little mean, don't you baby?" He asks, smiling. Yes.

"See?" Derek says. "She's just fine."

Actually, I'm about to hit my peak drug wise, and I can't fucking breathe. But all it does is make me want more, my throat taking him as deep as I can as I moan around him, my tongue moving desperately, eager to swallow his load.

"Think I should cum down her throat?" He asks Ava, his head tilted back in pleasure, cigarette nearly burnt out between his lips.

"Would you like that?" Ava asks, setting the speed of the bullet to max. I scream around Derek's cock, overstimulated and stupid. "I think that's a yes."

"God, you're amazing," he praises. "Such a perfect fucking slut."

Right before he reaches his edge, he pulls me away, admiring the long, thick string of spit that still connects my swollen lips to his cock.

"Look at that," he says. "Should take a picture of that someday."

His hand drags me up by my hair, guiding me to return to his lap. Once I'm straddled across his lap, his fingers delve into my cunt, fucking me quickly as he presses the bullet against my g-spot.

"You like my cock, pretty girl?" He asks.

"Yes," I moan, my voice and throat raw.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent."

His fingers remove the bullet, and he quickly replaces his hand and bullet with his pulsing cock, both of us moaning at the feeling.

"Jesus, fuck," he moans. "You are fucking tight. I can feel everything."

My cunt spasms around him, eager for whatever friction he'll grant me. He stays still, something that's clearly a challenge for him.

"Gonna stay there for awhile," he says. "Wanna make sure you're ready, baby."

My spit on his dick makes for excellent lube, his piercing comfortable against my cervix. His hands run up and down my thighs, squeezing here and there, eventually moving to massage my ass.

"The crowd loves you," he praises, pulling me close to his chest. "Think I love you too."

I'm very high. I'm very horny. I will do whatever this fried hair, cocky ass motherfucker tells me to do.

A waitress walks behind the couch, offering us a tray of joints. Isn't that my job?

"Go ahead, take one," Derek instructs me. I do so, reaching for the lighter on the tray.

"Don't bother, I have one in my pocket. Thank you," he says to the waitress, dismissing her. He reaches into his coat, taking out the lighter before discarding the jacket, leaving him in his zebra printed button up that shows off his chest hair along with a white gold sparkling chain.

He holds the lighter for me, lighting up the joint as I hold it between my lips.

"You're gonna smoke me out, okay angel?" He says, leaning back against the couch, his arms stretched out along the back. I rest one hand against his chest, taking a hit and holding it for a second before leaning forward and blowing it into his mouth.

One of his hands find my hair, pressing my lips against his, his cock twitching inside of me as his tongue slips into my mouth, establishing dominance before allowing me to pull away for another hit. Then another. Then another.

As he inhales the last hit, his hips begin rolling into mine, his voice low as he groans.

"Go on and start riding me, angel," he moans, completely lost in the pleasure. "Show me how you want me."

My hands grasp his shoulders, clinging desperately as I begin to glide up and down his length, his cock twitching against my most sensitive spots with each glide.

"You ever fuck a pussy as good as this?" I ask, watching his jaw shift subtly from side to side as he focuses on my tightness.

"Oh, she speaks now?" He asks, smirking. "Grow a fucken brain, princess?"

His tip slams into my cervix, making me gasp and press my tits into his face. His mouth works quickly, biting and sucking at the tender mounds as I ride him.

"I'm just making conversation," I say. I'm high enough my filter is gone, my brain rotted to the point I'm only focused on my pleasure. He moans against my tit, looking up at me while he buries himself in my body.

"I can't say I have," he says, grinning. "Why, that turn you on?"

Immensely. Not that I'd tell him that.

"Say it," he dares, his cock slamming into me. "Don't hold out on me."

"Maybe I will," I tease, tugging his hair. My hips speed up, riding him hard enough I can feel the couch rocking ever so slightly.

"You're fun," he chuckles. "Say it."

"No," I say, slamming my wet cunt against his base, making him groan loudly.

His teeth sink into my skin, pulling on my nipple to the point I'm on the razors edge of pain and pleasure.

"I don't mind waiting," he says, his tongue flicking against my nipples. "I like causing pain."

His teeth sink in deeper, his fingernails dragging down my back slowly as he slams into me, making me bounce hard enough I can feel it in my stomach.

This is a hell of a paycheck.

"I like it," I say. He chuckles.

"That's not enough," he says.

"I wanna be the best girl you've fucked," I add.

"Mm, need more details." His teeth release my nipple, leaning forward and quickly catching it once more, sucking on the almost raw flesh hard enough it feels like I won't be able to wear a shirt for the next day or two. One of his hands return to my hair, gripping it and pulling it hard enough I can see the people behind us, some of them still watching, some focused on each other, most people switching between the two as they fuck each other.

"Come on, you were just so confident," he laughs against me before returning to his task. My chest burns with want and embarrassment, my eyes glazing over as I give in.

"I wanna make you pussy whipped," I moan. "I wanna glance at something and get it from how desperate you are to get the chance to fuck me."

He chuckles lowly. "I think we'll get along for a while," he says in a satisfied tone, finally releasing my tits from his torture.

"Gonna get me on payroll?" I ask, smiling as I throw my leg onto the back on the couch, giving him better access to fuck me.

"Play your cards right and I'll get my surname on you, pretty girl."

It's an evening of drugs and sex, come morning I'm sure he won't even remember my eye color. But for tonight, can't a bitch dream?

"Go ahead and laugh," he dares. "I get what I want."

"And you want me?"

"Fuck yeah."

He forces me to my side, turning me onto my stomach and hiking my ankles onto his shoulders.

"Jesus!" I cry, feeling his cock bury into me from behind, slamming straight into an overwhelming spot that makes me blind with pleasure.

"Too much," I cry. "Fuck, too much!"

"And that's a problem?" He laughs, abusing me as he smacks my ass, admiring the way my skin reddens.

"Yeah, you're not getting another dick ever again," he decides, his hips chasing after a high that tears screams from my throat. I'm so overstimulated I don't even know if I can cum, my eyes crossed and ass feeling his palm bearing down on the sensitive flesh time and time again, growing more rapid in succession, forcing me to clench his length harder with each new hit.

"Come on, pretty girl," he growls, pressing his chest against my back, his hands keeping my hips pressed against him with no chance to escape. His balls smack against my clit, making me moan in stupidity. "I know you want to."

I cry out, tears streaming down my face, hair stuck to my wet skin as I feel my cunt begin to throb in warning, my stomach clenching as the knot inside me begins to snap, my mind growing fuzzy and static as I pant eagerly.

"Fuck, she's close," Derek moans to someone, small whimpers escaping him as he pumps into me, his teeth digging into my shoulder, sending me over the edge.

Someone's screaming, and I have the vague idea it may be me. I can feel Derek's front soaked in my cum, his dick slamming into me in a way that I just know I'll have a migraine in a few minutes.

"Good girl," he praises. "Fuck. Amazing girl. Taking good dick like a fucking pro."

His cock throbs in me as he cums, deep and right next to my cervix, keeping himself buried as his seed pumps into me, hot and thick.

"I wasn't joking, sweetheart," he mutters in my ear, his voice exhausted. "You and I are going to become good, good friends."

I groan as I feel him slip out, his fingers pushing any cum that drips from my folds back into me, then placing a plug into my aching cunt. His hand grips my hair, pulling me back up to sit on his lap as he accepts a new drink, his cheeks flushed as he tries to regain his breath.

"Let's get something to get your energy back up, hmm?" He asks, pressing a firm kiss on my sweaty forehead.

▪︎《•☆•》▪︎

Cabo doesn't sound all that bad, Danforth. Not bad at all.

Masterlist

I wrote this instead of sleeping. Anyways, see you next time for Mike Schmidt. Stay safe pookies <3

[adubsar]

Dovetail joints in Achaemenid Palaces

Dovetail joints have been used in woodworking for thousands of years. About 2,500 years ago in ancient Iran (Persia) they were also used in the construction of Achaemenid palaces (such as Persepolis, Susa or Bardak Siah Palace in Bushehr province in the south of Iran). (550 to 330 BC). They were used to connect different stone parts of the structures.

Photo Source

Joining two pieces of stone with a dovetail joint at Persepolis.

This method has also been used in Urartu, Median, Egyptian, and Greek civilizations.

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love. 

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 23.

Xilä is my own creation.

~

Part 4 - Breakthrough 

During Xi’s four week mandatory stay in the healer’s tent, she had seen many patients come and go. Some were weary and completely avoided her, while others made polite conversation. 

In her third week she became restless. Her only source of entertainment were the few times her newly proclaimed friends visited or in observing the Tsahìk in her element. The art of healing had become fascinating to her.

And so ever so shyly, she’d asked Mo’at if there were small things she could help with. Things to keep her busy. 

Everyday after breakfast and the slew of medicinal tonics Mo’at would lay out for her, Xi would sweep the tent, clean out chambers and tidy bed rolls before being scolded back to resting. Tsahìk had noticed her interest and would ever so often offer up information about the ingredients or tonics she was using- Xi was entirely intrigued. 

But her time was up now. By the end of week four she already knew at that point she was practically only taking up space in the Tsahìk’s tent. 

So when Neteyam had told her she was not going to be staying with her father yesterday, Xilä had her doubts. First thing this morning though, when he came to collect her for their daily lesson, he told her to pack her things.

Xilä never owned many possessions before. Yet in such a short amount of time, she now had a pair of pretty boots, not one but three whole outfits that were specifically made for her and a small growing collection of little trinkets that Tuk would usually surprise her with during her visits. 

Neteyam led her to Salveen’s tent again that morning- him carrying her packed things in a satchel he’d swung across his body. 

When they entered, Xi was surprised to see a gruff looking male Na’vi who stood next to an excited, smiling Salveen. The elderly woman quickly smoothened her hair as though trying to make a good impression and then held her joint palms under her chin, her eyes misting slightly. 

“Xi, well you already know Salveen, but ah- this is Jxo,” Neyetam said gesturing to the elderly male, “Salveen’s mate.” 

The intimidating man gave her a surprising kind smile and polite nod, which she returned. 

“They’ve offered to let you stay here, with them,” Neteyam finished. 

“What?” Xi asked, in disbelief. “As in...to live? I- but, won’t I be intruding?” 

“Never! You are welcomed here. My D’avi is all grown up now and has her own mate and home and I- well, it will be up to you of course, but my Jxo and I would be ever so happy if you stayed. Will you at least come see the space I set up for you?” Salveen rushed out, walking over to pull back a hung up privacy curtain that was not there yesterday.  

“It’s not much right now, just your bed- I wasn’t sure if you preferred a hammock but Neteyam said you’d like this better, he mentioned you get cold often. I promise we’ll fix it up nicely. Jxo’s a woodworker, so he’ll build you something nice to store your things in and you tell us whatever else you need and we’ll- Oh darling, what is it?” She broke off, seeing Xi’s expression. 

Xi was emotional, she felt choked up and was trying her best to stifle it. “Nothing,” she said, shaking her head with a tiny smile, “Thank you Salveen. It is perfect.” 

She walked into the little space and grinned at the neat nest of furs, blankets and leathers. Pretty flowers were strung from the ceiling and there was a odd bright device, which illuminated the space in a soft homey glow. Xi had learnt it was a human contraption called a lamp. 

“So…you will stay then?” Salveen asked, with a hopeful smile. 

Xi, glanced from her to her husband who was still quietly observing them- his gaze soft upon his wife- to Neteyam who leaned against a beam with his own encouraging expression towards her. 

“If you will have me, then yes.”

“Ohhh Jxo! She said yes! Well um- okay, let’s get you settled then.” Salveen was a whirlwind- she practically attacked Neteyam to get her satchel of belongings from him, immediately ushering Xi back into her little nook to help her move in. 

Neteyam and Jxo shared matching amused looks then moved back into the centre of the tent to allow the women their space. 

“You have no idea how happy you made my mate,” Jxo said gruffly. 

Neteyam laughed, “Thank you again, for agreeing to this.” Turning serious he said, “Jxo, Xilä’s father…” he didn’t exactly know how to word it. “He’s not allowed to visit. I don’t want him near her.”

Jxo eyed him for a moment then nodded. “Understood,” he said simply, tapping the handle of the knife on his hip in response. 

This was why Neteyam liked the elder. He was a man of few words but he was honestly the best. 

~

Neteyam was greatly surprised at how fast a learner Xi was. In the following three weeks since they’d started her lessons she quickly adapted to the labyrinth of the Omatikaya forest. 

She was a determined student. Anything he threw her way she was eager to learn, eager to put her best foot forward and every time she shocked him with her ability to succeed.  

They had fallen into a simple routine which suited his schedule. Early every morning he would pick her up from Salveen and Jxo’s where he would more often than not be coaxed by the elderly woman to stay for breakfast. 

From there they’d head straight for the forest where they would cover whatever lessons he had planned for the day. They usually shared a late lunch while practicing her English skills, then he’d walk her back to her tent before heading off to perform his other responsibilities. 

All that being said, she still pissed him off. She got under his skin for some reason which he was quickly realizing that quite frankly, he found her attractive. It was mostly also her constant notion to obey and submit to his every suggestion or request- irking every fiber of his being. 

He gave up trying to get her to stop saying sorry. Sometimes he felt like she was a lost cause but then she’d say or do something to prove him wrong. 

Right now, as he corrected her stance as she held a bow, he bit down the need to snap at her. She was flinching at every brush of his fingertips. 

It annoyed him that she didn’t trust him. He was not her father. He was not a monster. But he had to remind himself of his own father’s words. About having patience, about being nice.

“For shits sake, would you stop doing that? I'm not going to hurt you!” 

And of course…she flinched, again and of course, she apologized. 

It was moments like these that he never understood why his father chose him of all people to show her the ways of his people. It made him question the Jake Sully’s sanity. 

Neteyam was a soldier, a great warrior. He thought himself a great teacher too, since he also trained many warriors beneath him. But this was different. He couldn’t be the hard-ass he usually was with his trainees. She was not like most of his students- she was not like any of them. 

Xilä was soft, sensitive. Delicate. 

He also had to keep reminding himself that she had a bad past- he wasn’t sure she ever knew what kindness was before she got here. 

“Look, you’re going to need to start fully trusting me okay? I can’t keep walking on eggshells around you, worried that every time I touch you, you think I’m going to hit you or whether I’m going to hurt your feelings with every word I say. We’ve been in this together for more than three weeks already, Xilä.”

She put the bow down and faced him- her gaze averted. “If you think your words hurt me, they don’t. Say what you wish. I promise, it will not bother me,” she shrugged, not even seeming bothered. 

“Why? Because you’re so numb to all the shit your father has said to you?” 

She flinched again and shook her head silently, hurt written all over her beautiful face but Neteyam wasn’t deterred. He was frustrated, he needed to get her out of her own head- it was time to finally fix this. Otherwise, what was the point?  

“It's true though isn’t it? You let him walk all over you and now you’re letting me do the same thing?” He stepped closer and she automatically backed away, arms wrapping around herself, head bowed in submission. 

He followed her, matching her for every step she took. “Well see, I call bullshit…they do hurt you. Don’t they?” 

She said nothing. 

“But you can stop it. You can do something about it....You want to know what I think? I think you’re strong. I think you can get out of this fucking spell your father seems to have you under….Nothing to say? Fine. Let's play a game, shall we?”

She remained silent, but he could see that her breathing was becoming erratic. He knew she was shutting down. 

“If I yell at you and call you names, what are you going to do about it? Hm?”

Silence. 

“If I get in your face like this, what do you do Xilä?” He asked harshly, as he closed the distance between them.

“If I grab you and shake you, what do you do?” He gripped her arms in a firm but gentle hold. “Look at me Xilä, what are you going to do about it?!” 

“Stop. Please- I- I don’t like this game.”

“We’re not playing right now sweetheart! You need to wake up! You let your father treat you like shit!”

“N- no,” she whispered.

“Yes, you do.”

“No.”

“Get mad Xi.”

“NO.”

“Come on. Do something!”

“NO!”

“Yell. Scream. Hit me dammit!”

WHAP! 

She slapped her hands against his chest hard. “Let me go!” She hissed angrily as she shoved him.

His grip on her fell away at another shove and furious tears filled her eyes as she began yelling at him. 

“Stop it! Stop it! I hate you!” Shove. “I HATE YOU.” Shove. “I hate you so much!” With one last shove she began to hit, slap and punch his chest, screaming curses of hate at him. 

Her fists beating against him caused no actual pain to him, but he could see the anguish it was causing her. Over and over she pummelled him and he let her at it. This was good, he thought- she needed this.

When the fight left her, she sagged against his chest- fingers tethered in his warriors belt for balance as she breathed heavily. He was shocked to see that her face was dry. Not one single tear had fallen.

“Xi,” he cupped her cheeks and raised her face. “Look at me please... Eyes, Xilä.”

She peered up at him looking so broken, it tugged at his heart. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You can cry.”

She sniffled, “But I can’t...It’s a Na’vi’s sign of weakness, remember?”

“No. No sweetheart it’s not. I am telling you right now it’s okay to cry. Forget whatever bullshit your excuse of a father has-”

“Neteyam.” The moment the first tear fell, it was like a dam breaking. 

Her head fell against him and she cried, bitterly.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he soothed, drawing her closer, stroking her hair a few times before cupping the back of her head with his large palm as she sobbed silently. 

He held her for a long time, whispering soft words in her ear, letting her have her moment. 

When her shoulders finally stopped shaking, he murmured, “You did good sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”

She looked up at him with puffy eyes, a purple nose and stained cheeks. “I don’t actually hate you. I don’t know why I said that,” she rasped. 

He chuckled, “I know you don’t…and I don’t think you meant it for me,” he said, wiping away one last escaping tear.

“Oh,” she replied, understanding what he meant. 

“We’re going to have to work on your punching skills though,” he teased, rubbing a palm over a pec. 

She gasped, horrified, pressing her palms against his tear soaked chest in worry. “Oh my Eywa…I didn’t hurt you did I?” 

“Not even a little, we’ll fix it though, don't worry. You’ll be a badass in no time.”

“Bad-ass…and that’s a good thing?” 

“Oh definitely,” he replied, stepping back to pick up her discarded practice bow. “Now, are you up to giving this another try?”

She wiped her cheeks, determination peaking through as she strode forward to claim the weapon. 

They had a breakthrough that day. Pretty much after that, there was a shift between the two. It wasn’t an instant fix of course, but in the following week, Neteyam noticed the subtle changes between them- the changes in her. 

She no longer shied away from his touch or accidental brushes. She also took his teasing or tough corrections in stride and would occasionally jibe back at him. 

Xilä trusted him.

~

Tonight was Xilä’s first communal feast. To say she was nervous was an understatement but Neteyam thought it was time- she had put it off more than enough- she needed to socialize outside of her small circle. 

She'd been here for two months already!

“You ready?”

“Mhm.”

He smiled at her anxious fidgeting. “Xi. It's just dinner alright?”

“Right,” she nodded. 

The clearing they entered was packed with Na’vis, Avatars and humans. Clusters of friends and families happily chatting and laughing as they ate. Neteyam was right, there was no segregation. 

She stuck close to him as he weaved his way through the seated crowd. 

Neteyam spotted his brother joking around with his friends and made a beeline for them. “Skxawngs,” he greeted them all, with a smirk as he crouched in front of his brother. 

“Hey bro. I seriously don’t know how you two haven’t met yet but this is Xilä,” he tugged on her hand for her to crouch next to him and get comfortable, his tail running along her ankle encouragingly. “Xi, this is my brother, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak jerked his chin in acknowledgment, barely glancing in her direction. “Hey man, where the hell have you been? We had training with dad. He’s pissed.”

“I know but there was an accident on my patrol shift, I got tied up. I’ll make up for it tomorrow,” he responded, trying to brush it off.

“He said he wants to talk to you,” Lo’ak said, jerking his chin towards their father.

Neteyam nodded and looked back to scan the crowd. “Xi listen, I hate to leave you right now but I’m going to be just there for a second okay?” He pointed over to where Jake Sully and his wife were seated. 

“Okay,” she replied, staring at him. 

“Okay, okay?” He asked, double checking, reaching out to give her hand a little squeeze. 

“Yes,” she replied with one of her beaming smiles. 

“Lo’ak will keep you company, right bro?” Neteyam jokingly ruffled his head and the younger brother pushed him away with a scowl, grumbling a “not a fucking babysitter” under his breath, but she heard anyway. 

Xilä couldn’t help but follow Neteyam with her eyes as he made his way to his parents. She felt anxiety slowly creeping the moment he’d left her side...but this was good right? She had to learn to not always rely on him. 

“....so pale and look at her ears-”

“Nah man look at her eyes.”

“...such a freak.” 

“I dunno, she could be kinda pretty if you squint.” 

Xi bit her lip as she heard the obvious whispers of Lo’ak’s friends muttering and snickering among themselves. 

“Shut the hell up up assholes!” Lo’ak hissed at them before turning back to her. “...Aren’t you gonna eat?” 

She shook her head in response and looked down at her feet so she could hide behind her curtain of hair, tucking her knee into her cheek. 

Lo’ak sighed out loud as if annoyed. He grabbed a large leaf then began filling it with some of the dishes he and his friends were sharing out of, then scooted closer to her and nudged her thigh. 

“Look, I’m sorry about them. They're just being skxawngs, I’ll talk to them. Have a bite, I’m sure you’re starving. If my brother’s the one training you, it probably means you burned a shit load of calories. I should know,” he joked. 

“Thank you,” she said with a forced smile as she accepted the meal. Lo’ak was so very different from his brother she thought. 

The food before her was unlike what she was usually served in the healing tents- although still extremely delicious, Mo’at had had her on a strict nutritious eating plan. Even the meals Salveen was now preparing for her were in keeping with the healer’s orders.

She took a hesitant bite of the meat and instantly lit up. It was probably the most delicious thing she ever had in her life. She tasted the cooked fruit next and up went her tail- sailing happily. 

“You act like you’ve never had food before,” he said mockingly yet amused by her behaviour. 

Xi licked her lips and deflated a little. She had forgotten she was in public for a minute there. 

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” She asked. 

He seemed genuinely surprised by her straightforwardness, so he returned the gesture. “Not really, no.” 

She glanced over at Neteyam for probably the tenth time since he was gone. “Well that’s okay. I’m used to it, but at least you’re being honest upfront. What do you call this meat? It’s good.” 

Lo’ak frowned. He didn’t expect that response. “…Uh, it’s fish not meat,” he said offhandedly,  “and what do you mean you’re used to it? Do people usually not like you or something?”

She swallowed another bite of the fish, deciding it was officially her favourite. “Well yes, they usually do. It is the way it has always been. That is why I am used to it,” she shrugged.

“The hell…” he muttered. “I’m sure you're exaggerating right now…you’re saying it’s always been that people don’t like you? That’s a fucking lie if I ever heard one…what about back home? In your clan? No friends your age?”

“There aren’t many Na’vis my age back there and if you really think about it, who wants to befriend the daughter of the man they all already hate?”

Xi hummed when she ate another bite, “Do they serve this fish every night? I like it.”  

Lo’ak stared at her incredulously. He had never been so wrong about a person in his life he thought foolishly.  

He’d met her father numerous times since their arrival two months ago and decided that he was a foul sad excuse for a man- no wonder his people had shun him. He’d seen the way the man was slowly testing his father’s patience and wondered why he was even allowed to stay in the first place. 

Lo’ak heard the rumours of the strangle wild girl and he had to admit maybe he did judge too quickly. He had flat out refused every time Spider invited him along to visit her when she was staying under the watch of his grandmother. 

He guessed he could chalk it up to being childish because it seemed everyone in his life had suddenly taken an instant liking to the strange girl.

She was all they talked about at home for almost a month straight.

His parents were constantly asking for updates about her health from his grandmother and then it was them always asking Neteyam about her lessons. Lo'ak purposely zoned out any conversations once he heard the words Xi or Xilä. 

Even Tuk, Spider, Kiri had all befriended her with no hesitation- he didn’t get it. He didn’t try to. 

Quite simply put…Lo’ak was jealous.  

“My brother obviously likes you, he spends all day with you,” he said, trying to show her that she was wrong.

Xi frowned, feeling a tad guilty. “Your brother has no choice to spend his days with me, your father appointed him as my-”

“My brother likes you. Trust me alright,” he said with an eye roll. He did a double take when he spotted something on her arm as she raised it to swat at a flying insect. 

“So where’d you get the bruise?” He pushed, popping a handful of sweetened seeds into his mouth.  

“It’s nothing,” she replied, shifting so that the almost faded mark was hidden from view- it was barely noticeable anymore, it surprised her that he could even see it.

“Your father do that a lot? Leave bruises?” 

She frowned, “I thought you didn't like me. Why do you care?” Xi was annoyed by his invasiveness- they had just met for Eywa sake, who even asked questions like that to people they didn’t like? 

“Because. I changed my mind. I like you. I think we should be friends,” he said with a wild grin.

“What?” She exclaimed, her head snapping towards him. “You- you want to be my friend?” She asked, confused. “Just like that? Why?”

He shrugged. “Why not? I think it would be a good idea anyway. Freaks should stay together, no?”

“Freaks?” She frowned. She’d heard the word freak, whispered behind her back before. Lo’ak’s friends had said the same thing not even ten minutes ago. 

“Yeah, like a weirdo- not normal,” he smiled, wiggling his fingers at her. 

She gasped- just noticing. “You have an extra finger!” She cried, reaching out to touch, then immediately pulling back, sheepishly. 

Lo’ak laughed out loud at her reaction and she felt herself flush as a few people looked their way. 

“Yeah, got an extra toe too,” he said, showing her. 

~

Neteyam glanced back at the sound of his brother’s laugh. He and Xilä were both grinning. Lo’ak was obviously making her laugh too from the way he could see her shoulders shaking. He was glad that they were getting along. 

“Neteyam.” Fe’ska, one of his mother’s good friends and a respected member of their council, crouched next to him, as he stooped before his parents, chatting with them. “Forgive me for intruding,” she smiled, glancing at his parents and then him. 

“You are always welcomed Fe’ska,” Netiri said, squeezing her friends hand in greeting, Jake nodded politely.  

“I was wondering whether you had an answer as yet Neteyam…about what we discussed a few moons ago,” she shot Neteyiri and Jake an apologetic look. 

“I am not rushing of course, it is just..my Leati is quite eager for the match and I admit my husband and I are too. The council of course will also be relieved to know that you are in a secure match and that as Jake's heir- on the right path as future Olo'eyktan.”

Three pairs of eyes fell upon him expectantly and Neteyam swallowed. Every sentence that came out of Fe’ska’s mouth had him itching to flee. 

“I apologize, I hadn’t given it any further thought yet but I promise I will try to,” Neteyam said dutifully. 

“Well, that is all I ask. Leati will be most happy to hear from you. You know she can be a bit shy,” she laughed. 

Neteyam chuckled at that, because in truth, Leati, Fe’ska’s daughter was the least shy person he had ever met. 

When Fe’ska eventually left, his mother shot him a disappointed look. “Have you truly not decided yet? Leati is a lovely girl. What is taking you so long?” 

“Neytiri,” Jake murmured in disagreement and she huffed but nodded. 

Neteyam’s ears folded downward, he hated disappointing his parents. “I am sorry mother, I only want to be sure.” 

Neytiri caressed her son’s cheek. “A bond between a man and a woman is for life. There is nothing wrong with wanting to be sure. I am sorry if I made you feel pressured.” 

“It’s fine,” he said, standing. “I’m going to have my meal, I will see you back at home.” 

Jake and Neytiri bore matching frowns of concern at their son's retreating back. 

~

Dun Dun Dunnnnnn. *Hides*

So this is a little bit of a filler, more to come in the next part.

But heyyyy. We've got Lo'ak! Yay! A rocky start I'll admit...but at least he and Xi are friends now.

As always, let me know what you guys think :)

Ps. I'm sorry our boys were meanies today.

@jakesullyfatjuicypeen @granddearduck @riatesullironalite @strawberri-blonde