#Blog content ideas tool

[zerodesigns]

Best Tools and Websites to Generate Blog Ideas

Generating fresh and engaging blog subjects can be a challenge, but the good news is, numerous tools and internet sites can aid produce creative content ideas. Whether you're a blog owner, digital online marketer, or material maker, these systems will certainly guarantee you never run out of ideas. If you are in the corporate branding service sector, these devices can be particularly beneficial in identifying trending topics and developing useful material for your target market. Allow's check out some of the most effective idea-generation tools available today.

1. Google Trends

Best for: Recognizing trending subjects

Google Trends is an effective tool that aids content developers uncover trending subjects and measure the popularity of search questions gradually. You can filter outcomes by area, time range, and group to customize insights to your target market.

Key Features:

Track keyword search volume over time

Contrast numerous search terms

Discover regional passion for certain subjects

Recognize outbreak trends prior to they go mainstream

How to Utilize:

Visit Google Trends and enter a keyword pertaining to your specific niche to see just how its popularity has actually altered in time.

2. BuzzSumo

Best for: Assessing prominent content

BuzzSumo aids you locate one of the most common and engaging content across social networks systems. By analyzing high-performing content, you can craft blog posts that are more likely to resonate with your target market.

Key Functions:

Discover one of the most shared content in any kind of specific niche

Assess competitors' content performance

Discover influencers who share comparable topics

Track trending material in real time

Exactly how to Use:

Check out BuzzSumo and go into a topic or key words to find top-performing posts and material concepts.

3. Blowing up Topics - Exploding Topics

Best for: Recognizing emerging trends

Taking off Topics is a device created to discover patterns before they come to be mainstream. It aids material developers and organizations remain in advance by determining expanding subjects in various industries.

Secret Functions:

Discover fast-growing search fads

Accessibility trend information across numerous sectors

Determine chances for very early material development

Exactly how to Use:

Visit Exploding Topics and search different categories to discover brand-new and trending blog site concepts.

4. Solution The Public - Answer the Public by Neil patel

Best for: Searching for audience inquiries

Answer The Public generates content concepts based upon genuine questions individuals ask in online search engine. It provides information in a visually appealing format, making it very easy to see what users are curious regarding.

Secret Functions:

Create long-tail keyword phrase concepts

Find material inspiration based on individual inquiries

Arrange search questions into categories

Just how to Utilize:

Most likely to Answer The Public, enter a keyword phrase, and discover one of the most typically searched concerns related to it.

5. HubSpot Blog Concept Generator

Best for: Quick blog subject recommendations

HubSpot's Blog Concept Generator is a convenient device for conceptualizing blog topics. By going into a few keywords, it generates numerous blog title tips immediately.

Key Attributes:

Generates five blog subject ideas totally free

Supplies a complete year of blog site ideas with premium gain access to

Offers SEO-friendly blog site title ideas

Exactly how to Make use of:

Browse Through HubSpot Blog Concept Generator, get in up to 5 nouns, and obtain a listing of material concepts promptly.

Last Thoughts

Getting fresh material concepts doesn't have to be hard. With tools like Google Trends, BuzzSumo, Exploding Topics, Answer The General Public, and HubSpot's Blog Concept Generator, you can find trending topics, examine rival content, and address real target market inquiries. If you're trying to find ideas for company branding solution content, these tools will certainly assist you create compelling and SEO-optimized post.

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTION

1. What is the best device for identifying trending topics? Google Trends assists track keyword appeal and find trending subjects.

2. Exactly how can I assess prominent material in my niche? Use BuzzSumo to discover the most shared and interesting material in your sector.

3. Where can I discover emerging patterns prior to they go mainstream? Check Exploding Topics to find fast-growing patterns in different industries.

4. Exactly how do I discover concerns my audience is asking? Answer The Public produces material ideas based on real individual questions.

5. What tool can promptly produce blog site ideas? HubSpot Blog site Idea Generator gives blog subject suggestions quickly.

Which tool do you utilize one of the most? Allow us recognize in the remarks!

#Blogcontentideas #Blogcontentideastool #contentideatool #content idea website #brandingideas #contentideagenerator #blogcontentwritingtools #branding #corprate branding #zerodesigns

[j-esbian]

does anyone else feel like they need to Make Fan Content That Is Also Good And Interesting in order to make/keep internet friends so as to be worth other people’s time

[youmakely]

Unlock your creative superpowers with AI prompting! ⚡ Whether you're a blogger, YouTuber, or solopreneur, learn how to craft perfect AI prompts for stunning content and visuals — fast, easy, and fun. Dive in and level up your creativity today! 🚀 #AI #ContentCreation #DigitalMarketing

[omgitzlo]

Unlock the full power of #ChatGPT with this free prompting cheat sheet. Smarter prompts = better results. Let AI work for you. 💡🚀

[microlearningplatform]

MaxLearn: The Future of Microlearning & AI-Powered Training

MaxLearn: Transforming Learning with AI-Powered Microlearning

Introduction

In today’s fast-paced digital world, businesses and organizations need innovative training solutions to keep employees engaged, informed, and productive. Traditional learning methods are often time-consuming, expensive, and ineffective in retaining knowledge. This is where MaxLearn, an AI-powered microlearning platform, revolutionizes corporate training with personalized, gamified, and adaptive learning experiences.

MaxLearn empowers organizations with cutting-edge tools to combat the forgetting curve, enhance engagement, and improve knowledge retention. In this article, we’ll explore how MaxLearn is reshaping the learning and development landscape with AI-driven microlearning, gamification, risk-focused training, and personalized learning.

The Power of Microlearning

Microlearning is a training methodology that delivers short, focused learning modules designed to improve knowledge retention and engagement. Instead of overwhelming learners with long training sessions, MaxLearn provides bite-sized, highly interactive lessons that fit seamlessly into busy schedules.

Benefits of Microlearning with MaxLearn

Increased Retention – Studies show that short, targeted lessons improve memory retention and combat the Ebbinghaus Forgetting Curve.

Higher Engagement – Learners stay engaged with gamification elements, interactive quizzes, and multimedia content.

Flexibility & Accessibility – Training can be accessed anytime, anywhere, from any device.

Personalized Learning Paths – AI adapts content to individual learning styles and knowledge levels.

Cost-Effective Training – Organizations save time and resources with efficient, focused learning modules.

AI-Powered Personalization in Training

One of MaxLearn’s standout features is its AI-powered adaptive learning engine, which tailors content to individual learners. Unlike one-size-fits-all training programs, MaxLearn analyzes user performance, engagement, and knowledge gaps to deliver a customized learning experience.

How AI Enhances Learning

Dynamic Content Recommendations – AI suggests relevant learning materials based on a learner’s progress.

Smart Assessments – AI evaluates learners’ strengths and weaknesses to personalize training.

Real-Time Feedback – Learners receive instant insights to improve their understanding.

Continuous Improvement – AI optimizes training programs based on user performance data.

By leveraging AI, MaxLearn ensures that every learner receives the most relevant and effective training experience, boosting productivity and efficiency.

Gamification: Making Learning Engaging and Fun

MaxLearn integrates gamification elements to make learning engaging, interactive, and motivating. Traditional training methods often fail due to lack of interest, but gamified learning creates a sense of achievement and competition, driving learners to actively participate.

Key Gamification Features in MaxLearn

Points & Badges – Learners earn points and badges as they complete modules.

Leaderboards – Friendly competition among employees enhances motivation.

Quests & Challenges – Interactive challenges keep learners engaged.

Rewards & Incentives – Encourages continuous learning and participation.

Gamification enhances knowledge retention and improves learner motivation, making corporate training more effective and enjoyable.

Risk-Focused & Compliance Training with MaxLearn

Many organizations need to provide risk-focused training to ensure compliance with regulations and industry standards. MaxLearn offers customized risk-specific training programs designed to help businesses minimize operational risks.

Key Features for Risk & Compliance Training

Scenario-Based Learning – Real-world case studies to improve decision-making.

Adaptive Compliance Training – AI-driven learning paths based on risk assessment.

Regulatory Updates & Alerts – Ensures employees stay up to date with industry regulations.

Data-Driven Insights – Helps organizations track compliance progress and risk areas.

With MaxLearn, companies can effectively train employees on compliance, safety, cybersecurity, and operational risks to avoid costly mistakes and legal issues.

Combating the Forgetting Curve with MaxLearn

The Ebbinghaus Forgetting Curve suggests that learners forget up to 90% of new information within a few days if not reinforced. MaxLearn combats this with:

Spaced Repetition – AI schedules periodic reviews to reinforce knowledge.

Microlearning Modules – Short lessons prevent cognitive overload.

Interactive Assessments – Engaging quizzes and real-world applications boost retention.

Adaptive Learning Paths – AI personalizes content for better retention.

By using scientifically backed learning strategies, MaxLearn ensures that employees retain knowledge longer and apply it effectively in the workplace.

How MaxLearn Supports Business Growth

MaxLearn isn’t just a training platform—it’s a business growth tool. Organizations that invest in continuous learning and development see significant improvements in productivity, employee engagement, and overall performance.

Business Benefits of MaxLearn

Improved Workforce Performance – Skilled employees contribute more effectively.

Faster Onboarding & Upskilling – New hires and existing employees learn quickly.

Data-Driven Decision Making – AI analytics help optimize training strategies.

Reduced Training Costs – Efficient learning minimizes resource wastage.

With MaxLearn, businesses stay competitive by equipping employees with the skills they need to succeed.

Conclusion

MaxLearn is redefining corporate training with its AI-powered, microlearning-based, and gamified LMS platform. By personalizing learning, enhancing engagement, and ensuring knowledge retention, MaxLearn helps businesses train smarter, not harder.

Whether it’s AI-driven personalization, risk-focused training, gamification, or combating the forgetting curve, MaxLearn empowers organizations to build a highly skilled workforce while making learning enjoyable and effective.

Are you ready to transform your training strategy? Explore MaxLearn today and experience the future of learning! 🚀

[ctrinity]

Canva Magic Write ✨🖊️

Canva Magic Write Magic Write is Canva’s AI-powered copywriting assistant designed to help users easily generate various types of text, from blog posts to letters.

🖊️ Canva Magic Write Magic Write is Canva’s AI-powered copywriting assistant designed to help users easily generate various types of text, from blog posts to letters. Canva Magic AI Writer 💡 Idea Generation This tool assists in brainstorming by providing new ideas and topics, making it easier to create content across different formats. Canva Paragraphs Generator 🎨 Integration into Designs Users…

[ai-innova7ions]

Ready to take your content to the next level?

Fliki AI will blow your mind! Imagine transforming a brilliant blog post, witty tweet, or stellar presentation into dynamic videos effortlessly.

Fliki AI —your ultimate content creation sidekick. With its cutting-edge AI-powered platform, we can turn text into engaging videos and voiceovers in no time.

Experience voice cloning that sounds just like you!

With an extensive stock media library and user-friendly interface, Fliki is perfect for marketers, educators, and social media gurus alike. Dive into the world of Fliki AI and let our ideas come to life!

#Fliki AI

#ContentCreation

[neturbizenterprises]

Revolutionize Content with Fliki AI's Advanced Algorithms

Fliki AI is a cutting-edge tool revolutionizing the AI industry by offering a seamless platform for generating high-quality content efficiently.

With the increasing demand for AI-generated content, Fliki AI stands out as a game-changer in the field. Generating AI content efficiently is crucial for businesses and content creators looking to streamline their workflow and produce engaging articles quickly. Fliki AI simplifies the content creation process, saving time and resources while maintaining top-notch quality. By using Fliki AI, you can unlock a plethora of benefits such as improved productivity, enhanced creativity, and access to a wide range of article ideas tailored to your specific needs. Stay tuned to discover how Fliki AI can elevate your content creation!

#aicontentgeneration #ArtificialIntelligenceRevolution

[freshinkdaily]

How i write From Blank Page to Blog Star: Mastering Prompts for Powerful Blog Posts

How i write From Blank Page to Blog Star Mastering Prompts for Powerful Blog Posts, Unlock Blog’s Potential The Ultimate Guide to Effective Prompts Embarking on the journey from a blank page to becoming a blog star is no small feat. It requires a deep understanding of your audience, the ability to craft persuasive content, and the skills to elevate your brand above the noise. This ultimate guide…

[imastoryteller]

20 Plot Twist Ideas That Will Shock Your Audience

One of the most effective tools in a storyteller's arsenal is the plot twist. A well-executed plot twist can leave your audience reeling, questioning everything they thought they knew about your story. It can turn a good story into a great one, leaving a lasting impact on your readers or viewers. In this post, we'll explore 20 plot twist ideas that will shock your audience and elevate your storytelling game to new heights.

1. The Unlikely Hero:

Turn the tables by revealing an unexpected character as the true hero. This can be someone seemingly insignificant or even an antagonist who redeems themselves at a crucial moment.

2. The Double Agent:

Introduce a character who initially appears loyal to the protagonist but is secretly working against them, only to later reveal their true intentions.

3. The Long-Lost Sibling:

Uncover a secret sibling, separated from the main character in their early years, and use their sudden appearance to shift the narrative.

4. Time Travel Paradox:

Play with time travel to create a paradox that forces the characters to confront alternate timelines or unforeseen consequences of their actions.

5. The Mastermind:

The story's villain is revealed to be a puppet in a larger scheme, controlled by a mastermind who has been operating behind the scenes.

6. The Supernatural Twist:

Introduce a supernatural element, like ghosts or mythical creatures, that the characters and audience believed were mere myths.

7. The Doppelgänger:

A character's doppelgänger appears, causing confusion and chaos as they try to determine who is the real one.

8. The Reversal of Roles:

Switch the roles of the protagonist and antagonist halfway through the story, making the audience question their allegiances.

9. The Untouchable Hero:

Create a seemingly invincible hero who unexpectedly meets their match, forcing them to reevaluate their abilities and tactics.

10. The Forgotten Past:

Unearth a character's forgotten or repressed memories, leading to a shocking revelation about their true identity or past actions.

11. The Betrayal Within:

One of the protagonist's closest allies betrays them, throwing their entire mission into disarray.

12. The Hidden Identity:

A character is not who they claim to be, and their true identity is revealed, impacting the story's direction.

13. The Inception Twist:

Blur the lines between reality and illusion, leaving the audience guessing what's real and what's a dream or illusion.

14. The Time Loop:

Trap your characters in a time loop where they're forced to relive the same events repeatedly until they can break free.

15. The Shapeshifter:

Introduce a character with the ability to change their appearance, creating doubt and suspicion within the group.

16. The Truth About the Mentor:

The mentor figure, who initially seems wise and benevolent, is unveiled as the story's true antagonist.

17. The Lost Artifact:

The much sought-after artifact or treasure turns out to be a fake, and the real item is something entirely unexpected.

18. The Pseudo-Death:

Fake a character's death to shock the audience and later reveal they were alive all along.

19. The Prophecy Reversed:

Subvert the traditional hero's journey by defying a prophesized destiny and taking the story in a different direction.

20. The Unreliable Narrator:

Reveal that the narrator has been lying or misrepresenting events, casting doubt on the entire story's accuracy.

Conclusion:

These 20 plot twist ideas are just the beginning, and by incorporating them into your narratives, you can leave your audience stunned, shocked, and eager for more. Remember that the key to a successful plot twist lies in its execution, so take your time and craft a twist that seamlessly integrates into your story, making it an unforgettable experience for your readers or viewers.

---

+ If you find my content valuable, consider Support This Blog on Patreon!

[pedgito]

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 | Joel Miller x reader x Tommy Miller

↝ series masterlist | masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | a moment of desperation and a kind gesture leads you down an inescapable path alongside two brothers and a town with a nasty secret

author's note | so. its been three months and a much needed break from this place, but i started this back in august with a fully fleshed out idea and then my motivation fell flat. i had a good chunk of this done and i love it too much to not post, even if just for myself. this will be two parts, this one and one coming in the near future. its so self-indulgent and not everyone's cup of tea. but an extra special thank you to the special and lovely people i talked about this with and that took a look at for me, i love you endlessly.

content warning | 18+ smut, dubious consent (relating to cannibalism), cannibalism, gore, mentions of violence, blood, demeaning language, joel is a hardass, high tension and angst, joel has weird kink relating to...you guessed it, this story is heavily joel leaning but tommy is a decent part of it, smut (oral), night swims, food/feeding tw, joel is a bit of creep here. please heed the warnings and pass if it's not your thing.

word count —14k

Long, desolate roads led you here. No telling how long you had until you would find the city skyline again, car running on fumes for the last ten miles, the sign at the end of the road pulling your attention up, eyes peering through the windshield as your car veered to the right and to a full stop.

Miller’s Farm, next right

Helped wanted, no experience needed

Hourly pay and lodging included

You had fifty bucks left in cash and half of that would go toward gas if you could find a gas station, your arms crossed over the steering wheel and blocked the blow to your forehead as you rested it against your forearms in frustration.The car’s AC was shotty at best, requiring you to hit it every half hour to keep it alive and even then it was a weak sputtering and a barely there chill that did nothing to quell the layer of sweat on your skin.

It takes several long, frustrating minutes before you decide that you don’t have any other option.

You were stranded, this was it.

Maybe hospitality extended this far out into the country, that even this far from the city there were still a few good, decent people around. With a deep, heavy sigh you exit the car and shove your key into the door, locking it and pocketing the keys into the pack slung over your shoulder.

It’s been weeks on the road, leaving pieces and pieces of you behind as you traveled. The lesser the weight, the lesser the burden. Were you running? You weren’t sure. But, staying in one place for too long made you antsy. Town to town, taking odd jobs where they were offered, living off the kindness of others in hopes of making it somewhere seaside.

Start a new life, forget about your past.

Austin wasn’t supposed to be your final stop, or even a detour, but the steps you took down the side of the road and toward the farm in the distance would be another place of temporary sanctuary. Hopefully.

Eventually the asphalt turns to dirt, kicking up gravel under your feet as you walk and covering your skin in a thin layer of fresh grime and sweat under the high noon sun. The barn, once a far-off dot, was now large and vibrant, that distinct red popping out amongst the rest of the dilapidated property, void of most color outside of dull brown. There was a house to the left, cluttered with a melody of things. Tools, furniture, plants, and things you couldn’t even recognize. 

You squint, hand over your brow like a makeshift visor as you look around and hope to see someone, anyone—this couldn’t be the wrong place?

A truck under the hastily built carport and a trailer attached to the hitch—someone was home. You look around carefully, peering over your shoulder and finding nothing. There was no wind, no noise, and your breath caught in your throat. 

Maybe this was the time to turn back and attempt your chances elsewhere.

The front door opening with a creak has your head whipping back over your shoulder to set sights on the person in front of you—a man, tanned skin and tall. He was stocky but lean, black hair tucked behind his ears and trimmed just above his shoulders. He looked clean, which was more than you could say for yourself. All clean-cut man, jeans and a casual shirt, boots tucked under his jeans as his hand curled around the front door of the house and half of his figure leaned out.

“Can I help you, darlin’?” The twang flows out of his mouth naturally, taking a few steps out of the house before he’s closing the door behind him and following the small path of the front yard masked with clutter until he’s near you, a few feet away. “You lost?”

“I—I saw the sign?” You implore, jutting your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the road, “My car ran out of gas, I’m out of money and it’s hot. I was just hoping for some work to help get me back on my feet and out of your hair as quickly as possible.”

The man nods, readying to open his mouth before you continue.

“I don’t mind the work, I’m not picky. I don’t have a resume or anything, but I promise—”

“Woah, slow down,” You can hear the amusement, a smirk pulling at his face and you chew at your bottom lip nervously, fingers twisting around the straps of your backpack, “We’re not lookin’ for some hoity toity types with degrees—you comfortable gettin’ dirty?”

You glance down at your clothes, a few days without a shower and driving down sideroads with your windows down has made you look worse for wear, “Absolutely. I just need the money and a bed, couch even—you won’t even know I’m here if that’s an issue for you. I can keep busy.”

You glazed over the we in his response, looking around curiously again.

He extends his hand unexpectedly, “I’m Tommy,” He introduces and you take his hand softly, feeling him squeeze firmly at your grip and the smirk in his face soften into a smile, “listen—we don’t do the whole hirin’ process. I gotta run it by my brother Joel and there’s a few cautionary steps we gotta take due to the work, but we can give it a test run? See how you feel?”

You felt inclined to ask what the work was, but you decided not to be picky.

And like a dinner bell had been rung, the other man appears out of the barn.

Joel, a stark difference to his brother in stature and cleanliness but the resemblance was uncanny in the way they carried themselves. A similar stride that felt intimidating, broad shoulders stretched out over taught muscle and a matching resting scowl on his face.

Something told you his expression was more permanent, though. His brow pulls together, eyes squinting as he looks you over. He was wiping at his dirtied hands with a rag, a sheen of maroon drying to brown that you could only assume was blood. 

It was a farm. Animals. That meant slaughter. 

The thought of it didn’t make you vomit initially, so you considered that a good thing.

It takes one look and he’s giving a disparaging shake of his head, turning his head toward his brother to offer his opinion, “Ain’t worth the trouble.”

You instantly grimace, offering a less than subtle look of distaste at that man.

Stubbornness is what he notices immediately, but then your eyes are flicking back toward his brother who looks more confused now than when you had first approached the farm.

“You said you were outta gas, right? Just needin’ some extra money?” He confirms and you answer with a simple nod of your head. He looks over at Joel, arms crossing over his chest, “Said she doesn’t mind gettin’ dirty—willing to help out wherever. I’m sure we can find her some work, right?”

Joel looks you over slowly, a predatory gaze that makes you feel infinitely smaller. He was staring through you, seeing the deepest and darkest parts of your soul. His eyes were darker, nearly black and ringed with deep set under eyes from an obvious lack of sleep—whereas Tommy, he was chipper and well-rested, eyes a warm amber and much more inviting.

“You slaughter cattle before?” Joel asks, “Cleaned up shit? Worked on a farm? Anything like that?”

You shake your head but quickly respond before he has a chance to speak, “I don’t care what the work is—I’ll do it. If I need to be taught, I’m willing to learn. I’m a quick learner too.”

Devotion is what he senses at a slower rate, the slow blink of your eyes as they flick between the two brothers—he could give Tommy an ultimatum and turn you away, but something in his gut twists. 

She’s useful, she’s good. Good supply if it came down to that. Given you passed the tests. 

But, there was something lingering in your gaze, yet to be discovered. Joel was curious.

“Send her to the doc, give her the guest room,” Joel tells Tommy after a moment of thought, sounding slightly irritated but it forces out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, “You’ll start work when we know you’re cleared.”

You nod dutifully and Tommy returns a relaxed smile, “It’s a liability thing,” He promises, “and it’s heavy work, better to know if your body can handle it alright before we put you through the ringer.”

“Whatever I need to do,” You return the grin, tracking Joel’s departing figure as he re-entered the barn and disappears, “is he always that angry?”

“Usually,” Tommy replies, rusting around in his back pocket for a set of keys, “I’ll give you a ride to the clinic and we can tow your car here tonight—to keep away anyone tryin’ to scalp it for parts. Sounds good?”

“Sounds perfect,” You agree, wiping at the sweat on your brow with the back of your hand, “but—do you think I could take a quick shower first? It’s just walking in the heat and it’s been a few days...”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah,” Tommy stumbles over his words, but nods for you to follow him inside.

With trepidation, you take your first steps and follow. 

And what you’re expecting is not what is revealed to you. It made sense that the disorganization would spill into the house, but it was nearly spotless. Pristine countertops and polished wooden furniture, a wall of file cabinets and a tucked away nook with a computer set up. It was like entering another dimension, your eyes tracking along the full expanse of the house before they land on Tommy, who’s looking on with that same amusement as earlier.

“It’s a lot of work but I try to keep it clean here,” Tommy admits, “The outside is…all Joel, mostly.”

You shake your head with indifference, holding your hands up in defense.

You weren’t judging, it wasn’t your place.

“The shower is down that hall,” Tommy points toward the central hall, rooms lining each side, “first door on the right—did you—do you have clothes?”

“Only one clean pair left,” You confess, “but I’ll make do.”

“We’ve got clothes, if you need them. Don’t be afraid to ask.”

There’s a responsiveness to Tommy that intrigues you—approachable, kind, a hard disjunction from his counterpart that was like a breath of fresh air. You don’t allow yourself to linger either, making your way to the bathroom with quick footsteps and remaining blind to the rest of the house, hearing a sharp scuffle of a chair that you can only assume is Tommy as he sits and waits.

It was the easiest predicament you've dealt with in the last few months. But you weren’t, not even for a moment, going to question it.

-

It’s a small building near the edge of the town, only a half hour drive from the farm and sat in some silence, you find out a slow trickling of information that Tommy shares, his elbow propped against the open window and the other gripping tight around the steering wheel, his hair a wind-blown mess.

“It’s been in our family for years,” he tells you, traveling down the quiet road and the low hum of the radio mingling with his voice, “s’why it's a mess—can’t be bothered to part with some of that junk.”

“I’m not judging.”

Tommy offers a look of skepticism, laced with a smile.

“It is a lot of stuff,” you grin in response, a subtle quirk at the corner of your mouth.

“Joel is a little sentimental,” Tommy adds, “he’s always been like that—harder for him to let shit go.”

You respond with a gentle nod as Tommy pulls into the parking lot of the clinic, exiting the truck with a swiftness before he’s at the passenger side and opening your own door, “Oh—that is really not necessary—”

“My momma would be rollin’ in her grave otherwise,” Tommy gripes playfully as his fingers curl around the open door, “so, just let me, alright?”

You don’t argue, chivalry be damned.

There isn’t much to be confused about as you step inside the clinic with Tommy in tow. He takes a seat near the door and the doctor, an old man with a limp and someone who refers to Tommy as son—he earns a casual nod in return and then you’re led beyond the door to the hall of other rooms.

It was a very typical line of questions, a general physical, and a blood draw that he promised would be pushed through quickly for the benefit of allowing you to work as soon as possible.

You try desperately to ignore the particular aura about the old man, thin-wired glasses perched on his sharp nose, age spots littering his face and bald head—but the most glaring is the missing pinky fingers on both hands. It was so clean cut and well-healed that you assume it could be something he was born with, but the moment he spots you noticing, he seems to switch gears.

“You’re all good here,” he tells you, “If anything comes up I’ll give the Miller’s a call—you’re lodging there, right?”

Your left eyebrow raises slightly, nodding hesitantly in response.

“Gotten a few like you before,” he comments oddly, “I’m not passing any judgment, it’s just a question.”

“Yeah—yeah I am. Staying there.” 

Increasingly creeped out as the seconds pass you breathe a sigh of relief as he allows you to leave, meeting Tommy at the front door with a less than comfortable expression. His eyes press a silent question but you shrug it off, hearing him bid a polite goodbye over your shoulder as you walk toward the truck.

Eventually, settled into the truck as Tommy turned over the ignition, he responds with comfort, “He ain’t the most approachable guy,” he admits, “but he’s been helpin’ us for years.”

That was one way of putting it.

“Hopefully I pass with flying colors then.”

Tommy shrugs, backing out of the parking lot with his arm thrown over the passenger seat, feeling the slight touch of his fingertips against the back of your neck through the headrest, “We can figure somethin’ out anyways, seeing as you’re more than eager,” Tommy grins, teeth peeking through, “I like that.

–

Tommy gives you a proper tour when you arrive back, nothing extensive but he does walk you around the property. He shows you the animal pens; pigs, goats, a few cows wandering around the pasture. And the barn, but he doesn’t enter. You note the lock hanging from the doors, clunky and rusted but securing the doors closed.

The inside of the house is less of a mystery, following Tommy as he lead you into the kitchen and showed off the expensive counter space and deep set sink—if they didn’t put a lot of effort into cooking then you didn’t understand the reasoning for the size, but as the thought floods your mind, Tommy plucks it out and answers it.

“Joel is a better cook than me,” he admits, “another bonus, home-cooked meals, a lot of our meats are ethically-sourced—” The look you shoot his way is quizzical.

“Grass-fed and they’re free to roam and forage for the most part, we’re not stuffin’ them full of grain feed to fatten ‘em up. We try to keep things humane. Joel deals with most of the dirty work and I stick to numbers and talkin’,” he explains, “he ain't’ much for socializing.”

Joel enters at the mention of himself, grunting as he steps beyond the threshold. His coveralls hung around his waist, tied at the hips and the dirty undershirt stretched tight over his broad chest. He peeled off his boots at the door and Tommy leaned against the counter lazily, one foot crossed over the other as he folded his arms and looked over at you, eyes slowly dragging to his brother. 

“She cleared?” He asks briskly, “Or we sendin’ her on her merry way?”

“Joel,” Tommy chastises and Joel smirks, taking a quick glance over at you, “doc said he’d call in the morning and let us know, we can spare a meal and a bed for a night.”

Almost as if you two weren’t even there, he strips off his dirtied shirt and works at the tie around his hips with the hand free of the balled up cloth, “Hope you like mess, girl.”

“I’m not picky,” You shrug, resting your hands loosely against your hips as he walks toward the same hallway you had traveled down earlier, “A little mud and grime won’t kill me.”

Joel chuckles softly at that, fully disparaging, “Blood make you squeamish?”

You shake your head, noting the caked bits of dried blood tucked in the crook of his arms and the creases of his neck, a faint pink tint from his chin down, “As long as it isn’t mine.” 

Tommy seems to tense at your wording, his arms flexing tight as he eyed his brother under a downturned gaze, staying quiet under the domineering energy his brother exuded.

“She might just survive ‘round here,” he directs at his brother, a smarmy remark although more boastful than he had been since the first time he spoke, but the distaste for you still lingered, oozed right out of the disingenuous smirk crossing his face.

He ain’t much for socializing.

It would only take a few weeks, you think. A few weeks and a couple cash payments and you could move onto the next place on your never-ending roadmap. You feel yourself breathing out a sigh of relief as Joel disappears, not realizing how long you had been holding it in.

“S’much as I’d like to have nice home-cooked meal, I think it’d be better if I grab some dinner from the dinner down the road,” Tommy offers, keys clutched in his grip as he rocks on his heels, “I’m gonna pick up your car on the way back, like I promised.”

And then he smiles, again. But, there’s a moment when it finally reaches his eyes and you can’t help but return the gesture, “I…think I’ll hide out in the guest room until you come back,” you admit, pointing toward the hallway, “no offense to your brother, but—”

“Don’t take it personally,” Tommy assures, “don’t let ‘em intimidate you, either.”

Fight fire with fire. 

It wasn’t your forte, but you were hellbent on survival and you would adapt if you had to.

-

You’ve spent the last half hour sorting through a puzzle on your haphazardly made bed, chin tucked into your palm, eyes tracking over the pieces until you could find a suitable match and slotting it into place before repeating the process. The deft shift and click of a door being shut pulls your attention upright, assuming it was Tommy, you clamber out of bed.

What you aren’t expecting is the solid chest that slams into your side, senses overwhelmed with the strong smell of aftershave and clean body wash—it wasn’t a particular scent, just…clean.

You look over, find Joel with a perturbed look on his face, a dinner plate hovering above your head and his expression turning more and more grim as time passes. “Sorry,” you mumble, “thought you were Tommy.”

“I look like Tommy to you?”

You tilt your head, expression pinching together in annoyance. 

Intimidation, just like Tommy had mentioned.

“Yeah,” you respond coarsely, “but at least he’s not acting like someone shit in his food—do you treat everyone like this who comes through here? Is that why you can’t keep people around here?”

His arms drop then, strutting past you with heavy footsteps as he makes his way to the sink, dropping the dirty dishes and pressing his hands into the edge of the center island that sat opposite the line of cabinets and countertops.

“You runnin’?” Joel asks curiously, ignoring your initial question. “Cops gonna come lookin’ for you?”

You balk, offended by his asinine line of questioning. 

“That’s none of your business,” you respond to the first question before spitting out a venomous, “No—what? Scared of a couple cops? Are you hiding something, Joel?”

That seems to strike a nerve decently enough that he rises, creeping around the edge of the island until he’s striding toward you, a hair's breadth away as you swallow hard.

You couldn’t help it—he was large, intense, intimidating without trying. He didn’t have to speak, the image of him did the work itself. Even as he looked more approachable, clean clothes and a freshly shaven face down to a thin layer of stubble, almost normal in appearance. But, there’s rage behind his eyes. It simmers slowly, a creeping boil that would come back to bite you if you allowed it.

“No,” he responds truthfully—at least, it seemed that way. His voice never wavered or faltered, he was strong and believable with his words, “but two things you ‘oughta know—one, don’t go snooping around where your nose doesn’t belong. Two, keep to yourself in this town.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You don’t wanna find out,” he responds without hesitation, both of you snapping out of the intensity of the conversation as the front door slides open, a very focused Tommy stepping through the door with hands full of styrofoam containers full of greasy burgers and fries.

“Nice,” Tommy notes humorously, “you two didn’t kill each other.”

Yet.

“Got us burgers for dinner,” he explains, holding up the bags, “that alright?”

Joel clears his throat, hand wiping over his tired expression, “Already ate,” he responds short, clipped. Tommy doesn’t question it, but his eyes immediately catch on you, wondering what he had interrupted as he sees your body relax when Joel steps away. But, he shakes it off, offering a lazy grumble of a noise in response to his brother as he drops the food on the nearby dining table.

The dichotomy in the pairing is strange and you can’t comprehend how they’ve managed to co-exist as roommates, let alone siblings. But, they were also strangers. You had nothing but assumptions racking your brain, so you pushed it away.

Eat, sleep, and face the next day with a different attitude. A fresh start.

–

The morning was met with a rustling of two other occupants as they moved about beyond the barrier of your room, voices muffled but constant as they carried on amidst your dreary haze, rubbing at your eyes tiredly. It had been weeks since you’ve slept in a decent bed, not the backseat of your car or a mattress that felt like sleeping on a wall of bricks. You didn’t have a reason to complain and given the circumstances—a roof over your head, a space to yourself.

You’d be stupid to argue otherwise.

There’s a quick whistle behind the closed door to your room, followed by a gentle knock.

“Come in,” you say groggily, muffling out the end with a yawn as you stretch your tight limbs and watch as Tommy peaks his head through the open door, already showered and primed up for the day, his gaze lingers on you for a while and watches quietly. It should make you feel uncomfortable, but it does quite the opposite as you offer a shy smile, “—is this the part where you tell me I have to leave? 

Your hands slap the comforter as he widens the door, letting it thud silently against the wall as he leans against the doorframe, hip cocked into his right hand.

“No, you’re all clear,” he tells you, nodding over his shoulder, “we’ve got a few things for you to do this morning but I wanted to keep it light and let you get adjusted.”

You nod lazily and push yourself out of bed, rubbing at the goosebump chill that spreads over your arms as you feel the kick of cooled air spread through the room, “Enjoy it,” Tommy remarks, “ain’t gonna feel that good outside.”

Tommy departs with his trademark grin, albeit more subdued by his tired eyes as he knocks his fist against the doorframe. But, as you’re heading for the bathroom across the hall, Joel finds you again. 

He’s dressed for what you can only assume is a long day of work, thick pants paired with an even thicker shirt, skin covered from his neck to his feet and far too stuffy for the sticky humidity outside—his job couldn’t be easy and you weren’t faulting him for it, but the scowl on his face is getting under your skin and allowing its claws to find purchase within it.

He takes a sharp bite out of an apple you don’t realize he’s holding until it is pressed against his lips, teeth digging into the skin, juices squirting out with the force of it.

“There’s a full dresser of clothes for you in the corner,” He haphazardly points to the mahogany dresser tucked away in the corner, “different sizes and shit, you’ll have to find something. Since you don’t have nothin’.”

You eye him skeptical but don’t argue, walking toward the dresser and pulling at the top drawer. It was a mix of new socks and underwear, all pressed and fresh in their packages. The next drawer, a mixture of different shirts varying in shades, sizes, designs. Your head turns on a swivel, watching as Joel takes another bite out of the apple, speaking around the food in his mouth.

“People come and go,” he explains vaguely, “always leavin’ stuff behind, so—”

Again, he waves vaguely in your direction. 

“Got it,” you answer curtly, turning your attention away from him.

You shake away the looming cloud of discomfort that Joel leaves in his departure and sift through the clothes—at least they were being hospitable. That was more than enough to allow you to push the uneasiness aside for the time being.

-

Tommy heaves the bucket of dirtied blades and utensils, cutting boards, and a collection of other tools that you weren’t sure you’ve ever seen in your life, all coated with dried, oxidized blood of varying animals, you assume. You didn’t think to ask, didn’t want to know. 

Not yet, anyways.

Tommy rested his elbow against the edge of the bucket, having led you to the back of the house—it was similar to a sunroom, an entire wall of windows that gave you a beautiful view to the fields behind the house. Miles and miles of land, undistributed by the hum of city traffic and noise. The other wall, a dead-on view of the barn that Joel barricaded himself in. Tommy looks over briefly as Joel makes his trek to the locked doors, a metal jug of water in hand, a meat cleaver in the other.

“Well, he’s a ball of sunshine,” you joke before picking through the bucket of items carefully, keeping your fingers clear of the sharp blades, “is this it?”

“Most of it,” Tommy admits, “for now.”

You nod dutifully and watch as he explains things out in a few steps, rules to follow, a method of attack.

“So, just rinse at first with some soap, disinfect with the alcohol, then repeat and lay it out to dry. Pretty simple, but they need to be clean,” he stresses, his teeth peeking out beyond his lips as he stresses the syllable on his tongue, “and always use gloves.” 

He grabs the rubber pair and offers it over before he’s speaking again, this time his words coming a little more hesitantly, “Also—I grabbed your car last night. I was gonna tell you over dinner, but I figured you needed a decent night of sleep.”

“As long as you found it in one piece,” You joke, fitting your hands into the gloves, and the silence has your heart dropping into your gut, “you did, right?”

“Yeah,” his voice wavers with hesitation, eyes squinting slightly in a tell that he wasn’t offering the full truth and you tilt your head, mouth turning down in frustration, “but—it was pretty mangled.” 

“You’re kidding me—”

“Tires were slashed,” Tommy holds his hands up, palm out as he attempts to calm you, “there’s some rowdy kids ‘round here always causing trouble. We’ll figure it out for you, alright?”

Your jaw tenses, teeth clenched behind a tight smile and you nod jerkily. A hard swallow and harsh breath later you’re looking at him with softer, kinder eyes. 

“Thank you, Tommy,” you tell him, “I feel like I’m already causing too much trouble for the both of you, doesn’t help that Joel would rather see me as roadkill than—”

Tommy rubs a finger under your chin to pull your gaze to his, a fleeting touch that has you freezing in place but looking up aptly, eagerly. He scrunches his nose slightly and shakes his head, “Darlin’, we’ve dealt with plenty of trouble. You don’t even come close.”

You laugh slightly, a grin pulling at the corner of your mouth.

Tommy claps his hands together gently before shoving them into his front pockets, looking over his shoulder briefly before his eyes are back on you, “I’m going to start on some paperwork,” he explains, “come find me when you’re done?” 

You nod dutifully, turning to your task as Tommy leaves.

It isn’t hard by any means. It’s like washing dishes if you ignore the prudent smell and extra scrubbing to get the tools completely spotless before you’re running them through the steps that Tommy had listed off, attempting to ignore how weary your arms felt by the end of it.

Your eyes kept flickering toward the barn throughout, wondering if Joel would surface—two hours passed and there wasn’t any sight of him. It was like he lived in there, a nocturnal animal that needed the seclusion and no direct sunlight. It couldn’t be that enjoyable to be held up inside the barn all day.

When you’re finished you carry the bucket into the kitchen and place it on a nearby chair, tracking the back of Tommy’s head. He’s tucked away in the corner at the desk he’d shown you the other day, typing away and sorting through a small stack of papers.

Curiosity kills, so you wander over. 

Peeking over his shoulder, nothing really makes sense.

It’s mostly numbers and an odd mixture of letters, a system that he must have come up with to track the intake of supplies and animals, some of them sorted by what looks like initials. 

Tommy has a pen between his teeth and a calculator at his fingertips, typing away some numbers that add up to an amount that has your eyes bulging out, quickly realizing that this is none of your business.

He acknowledges your presence then, pulling the pen out of his mouth and looking over his shoulder with a curious expression, “Finished already?” 

“Yeah,” you tell him, “I—sorry…if I was supposed to go slow.”

“Oh no, you’re alright,” Tommy turns in his chair, computer screen fading to black behind him, “I still have some stuff to finish up—why don’t you go check and see if Joel needs anything?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Tommy smirks but not in a way to tease or patronize, he understands the presence his brother gives off, all intimidating and mostly unwelcoming.

“Just give a knock on the door,” Tommy instructs, “don’t go inside, he’s really testy about that. If he needs something he’ll answer.”

You compare it to something akin of facing the wrath of some beastly devil, gearing to attack. 

Tommy offers an encouraging nod that you accept on less than enthusiastic legs, turning and heading out the front door with the surety that Joel would either ignore you or stir up some storm like he had the night prior.

He wasn’t nice or cordial, not that he needed to be—but it wasn’t a wonder why they seemed to go through help around the farm, running people off with his hard stares and less than appropriate comments. If making you uncomfortable was his plan, he was succeeding.

-

It’s quiet outside, morning slowly dissolving into afternoon. It’s still hot, feeling the rush of hot air hit your face as you make your way toward the barn, noticing the unlatched lock but remembering Tommy’s words.

Don’t go inside.

You knock, once with no answer. Again, notably drowned out by the rev of a chainsaw and then silence, a loud bang and rustling of dirt as footsteps come closer, instinctively you begin to step back, scampering away slightly as the door swings open just enough the Joel can fit his body between them, blocking you from peering inside over his large frame.

“You need somethin?” Joel asks, his tone tight and his eyebrow arched slightly in question, his finger wrapped tight around the rusted handle of the barn door.

“Tommy said to check if you needed help,” Joel seems to spot your curious eyes as you attempt to peek around his shoulder, his arm raising to curl around the side of the opposite, unopened door and pulling the open space tighter, his eyes peering down at you, “I finished—inside.”

“Already?” His voice is clipped but subtle with surprise, “You're the first one in weeks that ain’t emptied their stomach over that shit.”

It seemed extreme, but you knew that some people couldn’t handle things like blood or guts or even the thought of slaughtering animals. But, to you, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Sure, it was gross, but it wasn’t going to kill you.

“I’ve got a strong stomach,” you argue, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly as your gaze refocuses on him, “besides, I told you blood doesn’t make me squeamish. Did you think I was lying?” 

“Don’t know you,” He shrugs simply, “don’t trust you. Is that what you wanna hear?”

You sigh softly, trying to keep the fraying edges of your temper under control, “Is there anything I can do?”

Joel pauses for a moment, seconds dwindling into a territory that brought you silent discomfort as he looked you over thoughtfully before peering over his shoulder.

“Actually, I got some scraps for the pigs. Think you can handle that?”

You hear the disregard in his tone and take the opportunity while he isn’t staring you down to roll your eyes, just in time as he turns his head to look at you.

“Do you?”

Joel laughs at that. A genuine laugh, though quiet and short, you hear it. It was proof that he had a legitimate emotion outside of the one built around pure disgruntlement.

He disappears for a moment, barn door slamming shut in your face and before you even have time to breathe, he’s back. It's a heavy metal bin full of minced meat and a faint coppery smell that has you turning your head and huffing under the weight as Joel trades the bin off.

He points around the corner, toward the corralled pigs snorting near the entrance to their pin, sending the impending meal you were holding.

“Just throw it in there,” He gestures vaguely at the trough inside the pin, “they’ll eat it right up. Oh, clean up the pin while you’re at it, the tools are in the shed out back.”

You nod slowly, digesting the information and feeling the liquid from the bin seep into the front of your shirt, the sensation making you curl inward, gasping at the coldness of it.

“Shit,” Joel curses, “shoulda gave you the apron, that’s always a messy task.”

He sounds honest, but you stare daggers back in return.

“Next time,” He offers with a half smile that makes you sick, “don’t take too long—if you want dinner.”

“If you’re cooking, I’ll pass.”

Again, Joel chuckles. Twice in the span of five minutes.

God, maybe you were winning him over. 

“I’m a good cook,” he says confidently, though the snideness in his tone lingers but barely, “you’ll regret sayin’ that.”

You snort softly as you shake your head, turning on your heels and toward the pigs, hearing the soft thud of the barn door.

It takes you a half hour to finish the task, grimacing slightly as the pigs frenzy toward their food, leaving you mostly undisturbed as you clean up the pen, catching Joel with his overalls tied around his waist, sweat dripping down his neck and his hair matted to dirty skin. 

He seemed normal like this, natural. Dirtied and grimy, a permanent grimace on his face as he traded places with his brother, who was headed toward their truck.

You catch his eye, a waved offer in return for your smile.

Another moment alone with Joel sounded dreadful and maybe sticking out in the remainder of the hot summer day didn’t sound too horrible now.

But, the poignant smell of the pig pen was enough to turn anyone’s stomach, so you choose dread.

-

You and Joel trade off showers silently, working around each other in a less than comfortable silence, mostly trying your best to avoid him entirely, but you can only bear the avoidance for so long.

Freshly showered and in a clean set of tattered lounge clothes, you round the corner into the kitchen and catch Joel’s back, a white shirt stretched over tight muscle as his back tenses when he reaches for the burner, adjusting the heat on the stove.

His keen hearing clues him in, turning briefly over his shoulder to spot you. His expression is softer, but still mostly guarded. With Tommy not around, he was a wildcard.

“Where’s Tommy?” 

Joel stirs away at the pot full of food on the stove, answering with a casual tone, “Finishin’ up some business in town—you sure you ain’t hungry?”

As if he knows, your stomach growls.

You had managed a decent breakfast and light snacking throughout the day, but the rich aroma of spices makes the food hard to ignore.

You approach curiously, noting the emptied but bloodied casing for the meat he was cooking, cutting board with a few stray vegetable ends and Joel’s gaze flickers to you once, then twice.

“You want a taste?” Joel asks, lifting a spoonful from the pot, his hand hovering under the utensil, spotting your weariness immediately. 

As a show of trust, or just plain good faith, he takes a sip of the broth before shoving the spoonful into his mouth, a clear indication that it was safe to eat.

Not that you thought he would attempt to taint the food, but it did ease your worries and you were hungry despite your feelings toward him, so you nod.

Joel smirks slightly and dips a wooden spoon into the pot again, bringing the food to your lips and watching as you blow, the steam bellowing up in front of your face and you sip gingerly, invaded with a burst of flavorful notes.

It was an instant indication that maybe you had judged Joel too hard on his cooking skills, impressed by how savory the food was, stronger than you’re used to, but it was still pleasant. 

Joel’s eyes are stuck on you, gauging your reaction and his lips twitching as your eyes light up, a gentle nod of approval in response. He plucks a piece of meat from the spoon and raises his eyebrows in question.

You find yourself nodding instinctively and Joel drops the spoon into the pot, guiding the chunk of meat to your lips and you open your mouth willingly, feel the soft press of the food against your tongue and the tenderness of it, like butter as your teeth grind into the meat, feeling the swipe of Joel’s finger as he cleans up dripping line of sauce that slides down your chin.

And it tastes…fine. You wouldn’t dare give Joel the immediate satisfaction that you thought it was good, because it was. It was a perfect, home-cooked meal. Your stomach was craving it, mouth watering even more as you swallowed that first bite.

Joel brings his sauce covered finger to his own lips, pressing the digit inside of his mouth and sucking. He wasn’t wasteful, clearly—savoring every last drop.

“So,” Joel grins wider than he ever has, still sated but it was new, welcoming even, “change your mind?” 

You shrug indifferently, but Joel senses your intrigue.

“I’ll give it a try.”

That’s all Joel needs to hear.

-

Somewhere between your first bite and your last, minimal conversation as you sit and devour the bowl of stew without a single qualm, you fall asleep.

It was a mix of exhaustion and a full belly, slumped against the table and your eyes falling shut despite yourself. Joel cleans quietly, dishes clashing softly as he washes the dirtied ones and wipes them clean, stowing away the leftover stew as peeks over his shoulder.

You’re still sound asleep, plush lips pulling together in a tight line as you sigh, breathing out through your nose. 

Joel rubs his hands over the front of his jeans, ignoring the half-hard jut of his cock against the denim, knowing the moment your lips slipped around that spoon he was a goner. 

He’s never gone that far, he’s never tried. He and Tommy have always kept to themselves and while Tommy didn’t stick to a strict diet of Joel’s preferred meat, he did dabble on occasion.

Joel preferred it, and like his brother, was raised on it.

But, like many of the people that have come and gone, always through the process of ending up as stock for the Miller farm, Joel has never forcibly tried to push their beliefs on anyone.

Unfortunately, Joel had never met someone as intriguing as you. Not nearly as squeamish as the others, even fully grown men shying away from the task of cleaning pig shit out of a pen—you were strong, but stubborn. Joel admired it, but he liked the challenge of breaking it out of you too.

He’d wake you eventually, but for now he watches. Arms pressed against the central counter, keeping him hidden in the darkness as the soft glow of the overhead lamp above the dining table illuminated you.

Joel’s come to recognize things—good bone structure, volume of meat and muscle, all the things that make certain humans the perfect piece of product.

And you were just that. 

A pretty penny.

—

Sometime in the middle of your bleary haze you’d made it to bed, whether with assistance or not you find yourself waking with a turn of your stomach and rolling out of bed in hurried attempt, feeling the force of bile as it made its way up your throat, fumbling loudly with the doorknob until you managed to pry it open.

You make it to the bathroom across the hall just in time to spill the contents of that evening's dinner into the toilet, attempting desperately to keep your wits, arms clenched around your stomach as you heaved relentlessly.

The cold hands come a moment later, icing the back of your neck as they push the hair from your face and offer a soft reassurance.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Tommy’s voice cooed, his cold palm pressing against your forehead as your head lifted to look at him, tears streaming down your face now, “you with me?”

You nod weakly, hearing Joel’s heavy footsteps before you spot him, his stocky frame filling out the doorway.

“Musta been dinner,” Joel supplies to his younger brother, “she’s probably ain’t used to the stuff ‘round here. Less processed, harsher on the stomach when you ain’t had it before.”

Tommy’s gaze lowers, focusing on his brother harshly. It was a look of words unspoken, threatening intention and one that had you holding your breath, wondering if you’d done something wrong. His hand slips down your back, rubbing at the base of your spine. 

In any other circumstance you might find yourself shying away, but you lean into it. He glances over, touching your skin once more. Left cheek, right cheek. You were clammy, mouth suddenly dry and begging for anything to quench the thirst or rid yourself of the sour taste in your mouth.

“Get her some water,” Tommy instructs his brother harshly, “and somethin’ cold, she’s sweating through her clothes.”

Joel doesn’t argue, half-expecting him to put up a fight. He retreats, knowing his wrong-doing but not finding the guilt inside him to care. You’d assimilate eventually, they all do. Him, Tommy, nearly all the townsfolk have learned to adjust to this lifestyle. Unspoken and secret amongst the outliers, it was the way of life around here.

He returns with a glass of water and cold rag, passing them off to his brother, “Don’t run off,” Tommy bites, “we need to talk.”

Joel grinds his teeth at the order, watching as you close your eyes to the glorious press of the cold, wet rag as Tommy squeezed it against your face, your neck, before bringing the glass of water to your lips. A few seconds and one generous gulp later you find yourself cracking a joke amongst the tension, pulling a soft laugh out of the younger brother.

“If you wanted an excuse to feel me up, you could’ve just asked.”

“Oh, pardon me, sweetheart,” Tommy remarks playfully, “I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

Joel sniffles awkwardly, tongue pressing into his cheek as Tommy passes off the items and rises to his feet, nodding toward the hall and motioning for his brother to follow. 

“You need somethin’ you shout, alright?” 

You nod obediently, flushing the toilet weakly before resting your head in your hands, attempting slow breaths to calm your racing heart, waiting for the second wave of sickness to hit you but hoping it never came.

There's a muffled argument on the other side of the wall, the tell-tale sign of Joel's gruff voice, tone clipped and decisive—it was the same way he had spoken to you during your first argument.

-

“What’s our one fucking rule, Joel?” 

Tommy’s voice bites, hushed enough that you wouldn’t be able to hear him, nor Joel as they slowly moved toward the front of the house.

“You're gonna tell me not to do it?” Joel retorts, “I already did. There ain’t nothing to argue.”

There was one thing they both knew for sure.

You weren’t like the others.

“She’s gonna find out,” Tommy assures him, “She’ll find out and then you’ll be the one that’s gotta do the dirty work, not me.”

“Afraid of me choppin’ up your girlfriend into tiny little pieces for Robert and Stan down the road?” Joel asks, a vicious and cutthroat way to take a shot as his brother, who he knew better than anyone.

He’s grown attached too quickly. Joel had suspected, assumed by the immediate likeness to you, but the moment of care shared in the bathroom moments prior had confirmed that if Tommy wanted you, he could have you. The smile you offered in return for his kind efforts was enough for Joel to know.

So, yeah— feeding unknowing people human meat was the number one rule. But, growing attached was the unspoken one that the Miller brothers had always followed, without fail.

 Until now.

“She’s smart—could use that, ya know?” Joel suggests, which is a surprise to Tommy.

His brother, who only ever thought about himself—he was suggesting you stay, that you could help.

“When are you gonna tell her?” Tommy asks, eyebrows raised in question as his hands settle on his hips, pajama pants hanging low. “Tomorrow?”

“I ain’t,” Joel responds without hesitation, “Like I said—she’s smart, she’ll figure it out.”

“Joel, if you don’t tell her I will—”

“No, you won’t,” Joel bites at his brother, stepping closer in an attempt to intimidate, “you tell her and she’ll run for the damn hills—let her figure it out and she’ll confront you. Then we’ll see how good you are at coverin’ our asses.”

It was Tommy’s job, the forefront of their business. He made the sales, talked to distributors in town. He was the face—a pretty face, more approachable. Joel was always sharper around the edges, harder to read.

Regardless, it didn’t matter. Joel had dug the hole for both of them and there was no way out.

–

You wake with an ache in your muscles and the instant need for a shower, covered in a layer of sweat that makes you want to strip your clothes instantly. You remember Tommy helping you to bed the night prior, the faint memories of you hunched over the toilet as you discarded your stomach contents and Joel watching over, observing, but the rest was a blur.

Not trying to waste anymore time, you quickly shower and dress, meeting the two boys in the kitchen as they readied themselves for the day, picking over breakfast. You settle for a couple of slices of bread, toasting them to a near crisp and snagging a ripe fruit from the basket on the counter, watching curiously as Joel makes a cup of coffee. It was the most normal course of action you’ve seen him take—he even took it with sugar, but obviously no cream.

Tommy already tore through breakfast and was sipping on his own cup of coffee, looking up at you occasionally over the newspaper he was reading, knowing that you were attempting to eat light after the night prior.

“Feelin’ better?” Tommy asks.

Your nod is noncommittal but Tommy doesn’t press.

Without prompting, Joel speaks, “It takes some gettin’ used to,” He explains, “it ain’t like the shit you get in the city.”

It would explain why he was unaffected, that maybe your stomach was just too weak.

“Same business today,” Tommy cuts in, ignoring the long stare you and Joel were holding, chewing slowly at the now soggy toast in your mouth, “we might have some stuff comin’ in tonight though and we’ll all have to offer a hand in unloading it, can you handle yourself?”

You approach him casually, stripping the peel off your banana as you take a bite.

“I can handle myself just fine,” you assure him, eyes pulling up briefly to regard Joel who was already departing for the front door without a word, “—you sure he isn’t trying to poison me?”

Tommy snorts softly, watching as you chewed thoughtfully on the banana and your gaze followed Joel through the windows, tracking his movements until he hit the barn. You feel Tommy’s hand graze your bicep, pulling your attention back toward him.

“He’s not,” If it was a lie, you couldn’t tell, “it all takes some adjusting, he isn’t lying.”

His hand still hadn’t moved and you looked down, his thumb rubbing over the exposed skin of your arm, “You know, I did say all you had to do was ask.” Tommy’s eyes crinkle with laughter, not expecting you to remember your words from last night, “Or, that’s inappropriate because…you’re technically my boss—”

“There isn’t rules out here, honey,” His voice is warm, inviting—but he’s still trying to keep himself at a distance, not too fast or too hard all at once. He’d set out the bait and wait for you to bite it, “we’re just here to help out and mind our business.”

“Okay,” Your response is soft, a gentle lilt to your voice that makes Tommy smile, “and...thank you for last night. I know it isn’t the most pleasant thing to wake up to in the middle of the night.”

His hand drops slowly, fingers trailing until they find your wrist and offering a gentle squeeze before his fingers depart you entirely, “I lived on this farm my entire life. There isn’t much that I haven’t seen or dealt with before. I think I can handle a little throw up.”

Tommy offers up the remainder of his coffee, still warm as you bring it to your lips and savor the rich taste—it was much more your style, full of cream and sugar to the point where it might rot your teeth out.

And the day proceeds without problem, moving through the motions of the tasks Tommy had assigned you yesterday, along with feeding some of the other animals littered around the farm. Horses, cows, goats—it was a wonder how they kept up with it by themselves. They were capable, but it seemed like too much for just two people. Regardless, it was impressive.

By evening, Tommy was pulling in with a truck full of secured and banded boxes on the trailer and Joel resurfaces from the barn by then, reeking something awful. You turn your nose away and scatter to Tommy’s side, earning a chuckle from the younger brother.

“You get used to it,” Tommy tells you, “like everything else.”

You eye Joel wearily, who seems less than amused. He offers a low grunt of acknowledgement as he stacks the boxes two high and heaves them up and into his arms, ignoring any attempt at small talk with either of you.

You couldn’t be bothered to care, knowing that Joel’s behavior was nothing if not peculiar.

“What’s in the boxes?” You ask when both of the men are reaching for boxes, sliding a smaller one into your own grip. They share a look, uncertainty. Who speaks first? Lie? Truth?

Joel huffs quietly—fine, half-truth.

“It’s stuff for cleanin’ up the barn. All the mess and shit. Interesting enough for you?”

Your nose crinkles at his tone, turning on your heels and heading toward the barn with the men in tow, “You’re snippy today,” you remark at Joel and Tommy hollers out a laugh from behind you, full-bellied and genuine, “when are you gonna give me a tour of it?”

“The what? The barn?” Joel asks for clarification before immediately shutting you down, “Never.”

Tommy shakes his head as he places the box down amongst the others, watching as you two bicker with shared looks and a soft giggle coming from you when you realize just how frustrated Joel had become, “I’m gonna head inside—try not to kill each other, alright?”

When Tommy is finally inside, you place the final box down. Joel was rearranging them silently, occupied with the task as you step backwards slowly, turning your head over your shoulder as you reach for the barn door. 

The curiosity was likely to kill you—just a peek, that was it.

The creak pulls Joel’s attention up and he’s on you within seconds, door slamming by your head as his hand pressing against the flat of your chest, fingers itching to squeeze around your throat. You gasp, a guttural noise forced out of you as he pressed you into the hard surface of wood, feeling the splinters dig into your skin.

“What did I fuckin’ say?” He asks. No response. It sets his eyes ablaze, “Answer me, goddammit.”

“Mind—” You gasp again, sharp as his hand presses into your throat now, forcing you to answer, “mind my business.”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re doing much of that right now,” Joel points out, “seems like you’re enjoying pressing that nose into places it doesn’t belong.”

It was a barn, for christ sake. What the hell was he hiding?

“Hey,” you croak, weakly, “don’t kill me, remember? Your brother won’t be too happy about it.”

“That’s only because he wants to fuck you, girl.” He assures you, “You ain’t the first and you won’t be the last.”

Your gaze softens, fingers clawing at his forearm. The disappointment in your eyes was obvious, but a sting to Joel’s ego. Tommy was always the more favored one of the pair, there wasn’t much he could do about it. But, it didn’t soften the blow.

His hold lessens slightly.

“Did you think you were the only little lady that’s come through here that my brother hasn’t tried to sink his teeth into?” Joel grins in amusement, tapping his fingers gently against the side of your cheek. It was patronizing and foolish, but he couldn’t resist teasing you for the dejected look on your face. “I like my privacy, alright? Don’t appreciate it when people invade it.”

You nod quietly, lips opening to offer a weak apology.

“Don’t say sorry,” he tells you, “not when you don’t mean it.”

Instantly, your mouth snaps shut. Joel smirks, satisfied that he was right about that.

You weren’t sorry. You didn’t care. But, you were scared. Eyes still wide as saucers and boring into his own, all blacked out with rage but quickly fading back into their usual warm brown.

“You hungry?” He quickly adverts the topic, pulling at the fabric of your shirt to adjust it back into place like nothing happened, “I’m fixin’ to cook up dinner.”

Two could play at that game.

“Is it gonna make me sick again?” 

Joel shrugs, “Might. Might not. You willin’ to take that risk?”

–

You luck out, for the most part. Aside from the dinner being nothing short of delicious, it makes you slightly queasy but it was easily qualmed by a glass of champagne, a nightcap to the work day as Joel has already wandered off to bed after cleaning up, leaving you and Tommy to perch on the stairs out front, a cigarette stuffed between his middle and pointer finger as he flicks off the ash, sipping from his own can of beer. 

“I forgot to ask about pay, you know,” You laugh softly, “just…slipped my mind.”

“Weekly,” Tommy answers simply, “every Friday. So, tomorrow?”

You do the mental work in your head, feeling like the days have blurred together. Realistically, it had only been a few but you hadn’t expected how overwhelming those days would be, finally feeling the exhaustion settling in your bones as you rested beside Tommy on the front steps of the Miller home.

“You feelin’ okay?” Tommy asks curiously, beer tipped to his lips as he takes a sip and awaits your response.

“A little queasy?” You’re unsure what to consider it, that unsettling feeling in your gut. You weren’t even sure if it was the food making you feel that way, almost certain that even a single look from Joel would give you the same feeling.

“You’re thinkin’ about it too much,” Tommy points out, “it’ll make it worse.”

You gulp down the rest of the cheap champagne and press the flat stand of glass into the stair besides your bare feet before leaning back on your elbows. Tommy mirrored you, crunching the aluminum can in his hand and tossed it aside.

“Okay, so—distract me,” you responded pointedly, a kind smile sent his way.

Tommy takes a deep puff before you’re plucking the nearly finished cigarette from his fingers and bringing it to your own lips, feeling the nicotine burn your throat. Tommy doesn’t seem fazed at all, used to it. 

Maybe Joel wasn’t lying about all those women. 

This was a normal routine for Tommy. You were another passerby willing to take the bait.

“You wanna go for a swim?”

Your brow raises curiously, amused.

Tommy looks on, awaiting your response. 

“Oh, you’re serious?” You ask, stuttering at the unexpected proposition, “Uh, yeah—sure. I mean…where?”

“It’s a walk, but there’s a lake behind those trees,” Tommy points off to the west, a long and dense line of trees surrounding the edge of the Miller farm, “feelin’ up to it?”

Your mouth waters unpleasantly as you continue to sit with your thoughts, yearning for distraction. You nod.

Tommy grins wide and takes your hand into his own.

-

He wasn’t lying. Under the moonlight, it was a huge lake with eerily undisturbed water. Pitch black and despite the hot and sticky heat, the water was cool to the touch as you dipped your feet into the shallow edge. Tommy is already wrestling with his belt, shucking his jeans down hastily and it forces you to move, stripping your own clothes off in time with him.

Down to your underwear you edge toward the deeper waters, hissing as more of your skin becomes engulfed in the ice cold plunge, feeling Tommy hover around you as he dipped under the water for a moment of time before emerging in front of you, pushing his damp hair from his face.

The cold water has you frozen, paralyzed.

“Come on,” he jests, “dunk yourself, it’ll help.”

You shake your head hesitantly, managing the inch by inch efforts as you move forward slowly.

“I’ll do it with you.” Tommy suggests, his fingers wrapping around your wrists as he wades the water—you feel yourself rising on your tiptoes to give yourself a few lingering moments before you have to force yourself under.

Tommy doesn’t force you, only waits for your reassuring nod after a long moment of indecisiveness before he’s doing a slow countdown and you’re both slipping under the water.

Moments later, you emerge with a gasp but it is full of elation. Tommy had pulled you out deeper, forcing you to swim until neither of you could touch and you clung to him instinctively, feeling the words that fall from his lips brush the back of your neck, “Distracted enough?”

It had, truthfully. You nod in response, feeling deft fingers at your hips as they turn you, your legs kicking in a melodic synchronicity. His touch lingers for a moment before he’s pushing away, using his arms to gain momentum and swim away, looking over his shoulder with a silent challenge.

Chase him. 

You giggle to yourself before following, moving gracefully through the calm waters. It continues like that for a while, minutes passing away effortlessly. The monotone buzz of insects hovering over the lake water and the insistent chirp of the crickets hiding in the grass kept your mind busy. It was peaceful out here, like the rest of the farm.

“So, you grew up here?” 

“All my life,” Tommy answers easily, “it isn’t exactly tourist worthy sights out here, but it has perks. Where are you from?”

“Here, there—” you answer noncommittally and shrug, earning a dismissive laugh from Tommy, “everywhere, honestly. I don’t stick around places for very long.”

“Which reminds me,” Tommy interjects, “your car should be fixed up soon—but, if you wanted to stick around—”

“I don’t think Joel would appreciate that,” you respond, feeling the heat of his gaze on you despite the farmhouse being miles away, “besides—I’m just another mouth to feed.”

“Most people who pass through here don’t last more than a day,” Tommy admits, “it may not seem like it, but he’s warmin’ up to you.”

You reminisce on the heat of his palm against your throat.

If looks could kill….

Joel would have maimed you at that moment.

“He’s a dick, but he ain’t immune to pretty girls,” Tommy teases and it makes your gut twist, “we don’t get many women through here anyways—I think he’s just forgotten how to talk to ‘em.”

You think back on Joel’s words again and decide to poke the bear. 

Swimming toward the shore you turn your head over your shoulder and speak, “You know, he said this is a bit of a routine of yours,” you begin, “seducing helpless women who come asking for help.”

Tommy rolls his eyes lightheartedly, chuckling at the absurdity of your words.

“Joel told you that?” Tommy inquires, swimming toward you. You turn on your hands, slowly scooting your way upshore with your palms until your ass is pressed against a bed of rocks buried in the dirty, shallow water lapping at your shins. “Honey, it’s been nearly a year since any type of lady came across our farm—and the last one? It was some old lady needin’ a jump on her car.” 

Tommy is edging closer now, on his hands and knees as he works his way forward.

“People see the farm and they drive in the other direction,” Tommy admits, “but, not you.”

You lean back slightly as he hovers over you. Your heart pounds in your chest, a salacious grin spreading across his face. 

“Helpless, remember?”

Tommy shakes his head slowly, “Ain’t nothin’ helpless about you.”

You bite first, silencing him with a heated press of your lips against his own, your hand curling around the back of his neck and your blunt fingernails pinching at his skin. His hiss turns into a warm chuckle. He spreads his palm out over the inside of your thigh and beckons your legs apart until he can fit between them comfortably before it curls around the side and pulls you back in, your knees barricading his hips. 

He coaxes you back, taking the balled up shirt on the shore and sandwiching it between the dirt and your head as he pulls back with a low sigh, eyes half-lidded and switching between your lips and your steady gaze, catching the way your tongue licks at your bottom lip.

“Need a little more distraction?” Tommy asks softly, the fingers on his free hand toying with the waistband of your panties, awaiting the nod of confirmation. It comes without thinking and he’s peeling the fabric off gently, watching as it stuck and rolled against your skin, sopping wet from the lake water as they fall to the ground with a soft squelch.

His fingers curl around the back of your neck, pushing forward in a way that beckons your chin up, meeting his lips in another hot and messy exchange of tongue and sweet, soft sighs breathed into each other’s mouths, feeling the tingly pulse at your core as his fingers drag through the center of your pussy. There was no mistaking the slick that had gathered there amongst your heated exchange, a low hum rumbling in his throat as he leaves you, sinking further and further down your body, eyes locked on your own.

“Open up for me,” he commands gently, his hands curling around your thighs as he settles on his stomach, “fuck—that, just like that. Goddamn girl, she’s glistenin’ for me.”

He chuckles at your meek response, looking away with a subtle smile that made you want to crawl away from him, but he held you firm.

“Nothin’ to be shy about,” he reassures you.

You exhale slowly, a calming breath that quickly melts away as he licks a broad line up your cunt with his tongue, through your folds and slurping up with sweet, sticky slick. You gasp, hands curling into fist helplessly, moaning out into the silent night. There was the softest wisp of a breeze that blew over your skin, prickling your skin. But, it’s beat out by the heat of Tommy’s touch as he pulls your hand to his scalp, silenting guiding you toward his long locks and hoping you get the idea. You curl your fingers into his hair and tug, pulling his motions up toward your clit and he sucks, sucks so hard you think you start to see white before he smooths the intensity out with the gentler licks of his tongue. 

It doesn’t take long before you’re coming with a loud moan, nearly uprooting yourself from the ground as he holds you still, the insistent wiggling of your hips from the overstimulation of his tongue enough to make you beg, plead even.

“Tommy, please—stop, s’too much. Too much.” You breath out in a hurry and eventually, a few greedy seconds later, he relents.

He rises with a sated smile sometimes later, watching as you desperately try to catch your breath. Whatever uneasiness you were feeling in your stomach earlier was long, but it didn’t snuff out the mental feeling of it. Fear, worry—like you were being watched.

-

The weeks beyond that pass with ease, falling into a steady routine.

Your car still sat untouched, but you couldn’t find it in you to be a pest about it—things were going well, a steady paycheck and roof over your head. You could bother them about it eventually, but not now. Not while things were good.

By October, the air is cooler and the work is easier to handle. Sometimes you help Tommy on the administrative end, filing away paperwork with information that doesn’t make much sense to you, as much as you try to piece it together. But, you do know they’re bringing in money. And lots of it. Absurd amount, actually. You don’t press Tommy on it either, worried that it would pop the pristine bubble around you both.

He was smitten, kind—sometimes he would sneak into your room at night instead of the latter for you, tiptoeing around Joel in the chances he might have something, anything to say. He’d lied to you about Tommy for his own benefit—but why? You tried not to dwell on it.

But, eventually you find yourself around Joel more often than not. Or, attending to him. 

He still barricades himself in the barn most days, only popping his head out as he calls for things—but there’s one particular evening where things, usually calm, fly off the rails. 

Mentally, at least.

And it isn’t the most auspicious way to let you in on their secret, but Joel can’t seem to rid himself of you. You’re always there, lingering, and even if you weren’t certain of things, suspicion had been raised long ago.

You weren’t even sure what you were trying to confirm, or if Joel’s unsettling nature was just a ploy to scare you into behaving, but you could feel it. Something was up.

He’s tasked you with feeding the pigs a number of times—it’s always gross and messy and not a favorable task by any means, fortunately you’re used to it. But, a large, stray rock buried in the dirt robs you of normality and the bin of bloodied scraps spills out as you land on your hands and knees, the skin scraping off your shins against the rough ground and a loud hiss slips beyond clenched teeth as you scramble to get back on your feet, looking around in desperation and hoping that neither of the brothers had witnessed your misstep.

Your nose scrunches up in disgust as you hold back a gag, scooping the discarded scraps back into the bin, the meat like mush beneath your fingertips and you reach for a bigger chunk, immediately startled by the more solid texture of it. 

Joel usually grinded up the meat, making it easier for the pigs to consume. But this, it was a whole and solid chunk. You push the bin away gently and swipe away the chunks of congealed blood and fat and rub your thumb over the texture of it. Thick, solid. The color was dull and pale but there was no mistaking it. It was skin, but more notably amongst that was the tattoo. It clearly wasn’t the full piece, a couple letters surrounded by an intricate design where it was precisely sliced.

You’ve heard of people using pig skin for tattooing, wondering if Joel was taking up a side hobby amongst the already interesting career path he had taken, but something doesn’t sit well. 

Five pigs, that was how many you’d seen since you arrived. You push the bin weakly toward the pin on your hands and knees until you can find the strength to dump it into the trough, allowing the metal to clatter to the ground carelessly as the pigs flood to their food. One, two, three…and two stragglers trotting over leisurely. Five pigs, not a single one missing.

The creak from the barn has you peering quickly over your shoulder, eyes landing on Joel as he leaned around the door, a perturbed look on his face. You thought it was worry for a split second and as he came closer—curious and cautious over the loud noises he had heard when his saw cut dead—it was. 

He spots the blood on the ground first, a mess you had made. His eyes follow the trail of blood to the pin before they travel over you, covered in the rest of what didn’t make it inside the trough and then your legs—you don’t feel the sting until he kneels, his fingers running over your knees, tiny bits of dirt and gravel buried in the wound as his fingers continue down your shin. His eyes scan the expanse of the property before they’re locked back on you.

“Get inside,” It was a cold demand, detached and emotionless but you can’t move, frozen with a fear that didn’t hit you until Joel’s fingers touched your skin, “go on—you can walk, can’t you?”

Vehemently, you swallow down the lump in your throat. Human skin, not pig skin. You weren’t feeding the pigs scraps of other animals—it was humans. Weeks of clueless wandering, the itching feeling of uneasiness was confirmed for you in seconds. The bile in your stomach was threatening to escape as you walked on wobbly legs to the house, falling down into a chair tucked under the dining table, flexing shaky fingers into fists over and over, slowly in an effort to calm yourself alongside your practiced breaths.

Tommy wasn’t here. He would’ve come running otherwise—you vaguely remember the truck missing as you made your way inside, wondering how distracted you had to be to not realize he left. You hear Joel clearing his throat as he approaches the door, swinging it open harshly as it nearly pops off its hinges.

You make the effort to move, but Joel is quick to snap at you.

“Stay put,” He commands, eyes washing over your stoic expression.

You must’ve been a sight, wide-eyed and disturbed, following Joel’s every move. You were covered in a mix of your own blood and someone else’s—maybe not even one, it could be multiple. Joel seems to sense your stomach turning and lunges toward the trash bin in the kitchen and quickly shoves it in front of you, barely catching the vomit that spills from your throat as you retch your breakfast up forcefully.

Joel moves quietly amongst your sickened state, grabbing a few supplies that he slides onto the table beside you and waits, kneeled down at near eye level as you peer up, wiping the string of spit from your mouth and he looks enthralled, wondering what had caused such a chaotic string of events to unfold.

“You’re upset,” He notes, ripping open a package of cotton balls and pouring a handful onto the table, popping open the cap of isopropyl alcohol, dosing the cotton before he was pressing it into your leg without warning, earning a sharp whine of pain from you.

Was he expecting a different reaction?

“Fuck!” You shout, shoving the trash can aside as your fingers dig tightly into Joel’s shoulder, earning a fiery look from the man—but if he wasn’t willing to give you sympathy, you weren’t going to return the favor, “—you are too, are we pointing out the obvious?”

His fingers drag along the back of your calf, position your heel against his hips as allows no relief, haphazardly pouring a small amount of alcohol against the wound and you grip the wood of the chair so hard you swear you hear it crack.

“Jesus, ease up,” you snap at him, “I fell, I fucked up. I’m sorry, is that what you wanted to hear?”

“What’re you apologizin’ for?”

There’s a distinct rip of tape as you watch Joel smooth the gauze over your shin, securing the bandage over the wound before he works carefully at your knee, cleaning the cut before leaving it alone and moving to the opposite leg.

“Are you not mad at me?”

Joel chuckles dismissively, eyes flicking up toward you briefly, “Not everything is about you, girl.”

Fed up and simmering with your pain, you don’t think and the words slip from your lips before you can stop them, “Is it about Tommy then?”

Joel’s hands still, stopping the slow dragging lotion down your wound as he tilts his head up at you curiously, “You think I’m jealous of that little thing you got going on with my brother?” Joel shakes his head in amusement, his teeth peeking out beyond his grin, “I don’t get jealous. If I want somethin’, I’ll take it.”

The words pierce your chest, knowing there was deeper meaning beyond those words but you look away carelessly, feeling his less than gentle press into your skin as he continues. 

“Business is slow, I don’t like it.” Joel admits, hearing the hesitancy in his voice as he admits it, but it seems harmless. In his mind, you have no clue of the nefarious nature behind their work.

Except, you do. Or at least you think you do. 

“Is there any way to fix that?”

Joel shrugs, “Tommy’s workin’ the people around town, doing all the talking. We’ll see if it works.”

You have two choices.

Admit what you found or bide your time, poke around and see what you can find—you know that won’t go over well with Joel, or Tommy, even. So, you call his bluff.

Because something—be it Joel or that sinking feeling in your chest, tells you that whichever path you take would lead down the same road. You weren’t leaving here without a fight.

“Does the body reject it the first few times?”

You ignore the way your voice shakes, the recognition sitting with you, knowing that they had fed you the meat without your consent. Tommy, too. He’d sat there at the dinner table and tore into the meals all the same, less intrigued as his counterpart, but he was still an accomplice. 

Joel’s expression changes, like switch flips. Bandaging up the opposite leg he rises, answering with a clipped, “Yeah.”

Silence amongst the clattering of items as Joel piled them into his arms and stored them away, another question slips past your lips.

“Was it on purpose?”

Joel’s brow raises, but he doesn’t answer. 

“The tattoo,” You explain, “did you want me to find it? Or did you fuck up?”

At those words, he lunges. His hands grip the table behind you, pinning you against the chair as you lean back and look up, feeling the deep rumble in his chest.

“I don’t fuck up,” Joel retorts and your eyes stray from his hardened gaze, “No—look at me. Now.”

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip harshly, but you listen.

“You knew,” Joel challenges, “long before that, I’m sure. You could’ve ran if you wanted, granted you’ve got that busted car out front, but you could’ve ran. Hell, you could have while you were outside just now—but you listened to me.”

You know what angle he’s pushing, backing you into a corner and you feel it, that tingling feeling of guilt in your gut. He was right, you could have.

“What are you hidin’ in there?” He presses, eyes narrowing as his pointer finger taps gently at the center of your forehead, “I’m telling you we’re murderers, cannibals, and you haven’t screamed or shed a tear. You aren’t scared of me, are you?”

You shake your head and Joel speaks again, “Scared of dying though, right? What’s stoppin’ me from killing you? Tommy ain’t here.”

The finger on your forehead follows down the center of your face until Joel can reach your chin, tilting it upwards.

“You like it here, don’t you?”

There was no nod, but the subtle twitch in your cheek as you bite down hard on the inside of it was enough of an answer for Joel. Don’t give him those words, don’t give him the satisfaction.

“You killed before?”

Another question that goes unanswered, but your actions give you away.

You twist away, desperate to flee his touch. Joel isn’t done with you yet, one hand pressed against his knee as he leans down to your level and the other grabbing for your face, forcing you to look at him.

Admittedly, they weren’t all bad men. Some of them had tried to attack you on the road and ended up at the wrong end of a blade, but others—the few with bad timing and things you needed…it was collateral, in your eyes. Seven of them that you can remember, all unsuspecting men with an eye for the meek and defenseless. 

You snarl slightly, fighting against his hold but Joel is stronger, much stronger. 

“Knew you’d be useful,” Joel admits, “s’why I let you stick around. You got that…look about you.”

Your brow furrows in a mix of disgust and confusion and you catch the way Joel spaces out for a moment, admiring your expression and you twist, shoving him hard with both hands in an attempt to send him stumbling back. It only forces him off-balance and your attempt to flee is stopped by his large, bear-like grip on your forearm as he throws you against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs.

“Nuh uh,” Joel mocks, “can’t letcha go that easy, sugar.”

Joel's grip on your wrist is deadlocked, crossing your arms over your chest tight, pressing himself against you. Under this light, this closeness, you notice the small scars, years of healing left it fading into the skin and Joel notices you admiring for a brief moment—incredibly brief as your teeth clamp down around the side of his hand. Hard. It breaks through the skin and forces blood to spill from his hand and pool into your mouth before he pulls the wounded hand back and balls it into a fist, freezing as you spit his blood back into his face, an instant chuckle ripping from his throat.

“There you are, ya little killer,” He goaded, his eyes ticking up at the sound of a car door slamming outside and a wide grin spreading across his face, “well, isn’t that some fine timing.”

The door swings open a second later and Joel has already pushed away from you, nursing his flesh wound with a dry, clean kitchen towel, leaving Tommy to examine you both with a less than auspicious gaze, blood ringing your mouth and a smug expression on his brother's face.

You approach Tommy hesitantly, reaching for the door with a worried gaze but his hand comes up too, slamming against the flimsy frame and preventing you from roaming further.

“Can’t let you out, honey,” he apologizes, his voice more sincere than you’ve ever heard it to be before his head turns up toward his brother, waving around a white envelope addressed out to the both of them, “we gotta figure somethin’ out.”

He tosses the letter on the dining table and slides his hand down your forearm, a softer grip than his counterpart but it didn’t leave room for argument, jostling you around until he could get the front door locked, dead-bolted, and secured.

“This is home now, baby.” Tommy soothes.

Because really, where else did you have to go?

[perry-the-human-fanzine]

A FANZINE? A PERRY THE HUMAN FANZINE?!

Welcome to this first little intro to what this fanzine is going to be! Some things might change as we get organized, but for now, here are the main details—so exciting!

Non-profit. I have no idea how to use platforms like Kickstarter and similars, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable handling other people’s money. So this zine will be completely free, made purely for love and our monotremed muse.

For all audiences. No explicit content, at least in this first edition.

This is a Perryshmirtz-friendly zine. You don’t have to be a shipper to participate, and the content won’t focus on the pairing, but keep in mind that a large portion of the fandom centers their work around it. Respect and community are key.

If all goes well, sign-ups will begin on June 5th (baby, we are back), and there will be two checkpoints: June 21st for submitting the first part (don’t worry, this part is just basic info about your version of Human!Perry), and August 1st for submitting the rest (fanart and fanfics). The official release date of the complete zine is currently set for August 31st. PDF download links will be posted on this blog so that anyone interested can access it.

Fanart: Traditional or digital—it doesn’t matter. We want every Perry flavor we can get.

Fanfics: The saddest thing you’ve ever read? Perry on an actual day off? Write, write, write—we want to read it all.

Articles: We are people of culture.

Printable. On the other hand, the design will be print-friendly for home printers—for those who enjoy binding their own books—or even for print-on-demand services, as long as, of course, it's not for commercial use. It’ll be as accessible as we can make it.

English: This will be the official language. If it’s not your native language or you struggle with it (look at me), don’t worry—there are tons of tools online to help you, and you can even ask another participant for help.

This zine is open to suggestions, so if you have an idea you think is amazing… we’re all ears.

Spread the word! If you have friends outside Tumblr who have their own version of Perry, encourage them to join in. The more, the merrier!

Summer belongs to you! Remember, this is a fan project made by fans for fans, just for fun. If you have any doubts or run into issues during the process, don’t hesitate to reach out via blog messages, chat, or the Discord channel (which doesn’t exist yet, but will be the sing-up day). The main goal of this zine is to have fun.

[pastel-charm-14]

how to start and maintain a successful girlblog

hey girlies!! here are a couple tips i wish i'd known when i was starting up my own girlblog :) enjoy!

FIND YOUR NICHE -

decide what you want your girlblog to focus on. it could be fashion, beauty, lifestyle, self-care, a combination of any of these, really anything that excites you!! having a clear niche will help you get a loyal audience.

CREATE A GOOD USERNAME -

your username should be memorable and reflect the vibe of your blog. try to keep it short and sweet, and personally try to avoid using too many numbers or special characters.

some username ideas

sugarplum

cupcake

glitter girl

dainty daisy

peachy

DESIGN A THEME -

choose a theme that matches your aesthetic/niche. spend some time customizing it with colors, fonts, and images that represent your style. a visually appealing blog will attract more followers and is just nice to look at :)

POST REGULARLY -

consistency is so important! try to post at least a few times a week to keep your audience engaged. i'm starting to use the scheduling tool to plan out my posts.

ENGAGE WITH YOUR FOLLOWERS -

respond to comments, messages, and reblogs. making a blog is about building a community, and your followers will appreciate the interaction!!

USE RELEVANT TAGS -

tag wisely to help people find your blog. research popular tags related to your niche and use them where relevant!

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG -

don't just post your own content – reblog posts from other girlblogs that inspire you. this helps you connect with other bloggers and keeps your blog diverse.

STAY INSPIRED -

follow other girlblogs, browse pinterest, and stay updated on the trends in your niche. keep yourself inspired!! it will reflect in your content and keep your blog fresh.

some of my favorites

@honeytonedhottie

@pinkpigtailsprincess

@girlbossagenda

@girljournal

@universalitgirlsblog2

DON'T BURN YOURSELF OUT -

if you feel burned out, please take a break!! i felt burnout for the last half of may, and it sucked because i felt like i couldn't produce any good content, and i was tired of posting!

[inky-duchess]

Writing Theory: Dialogue

One question, I often get asked on this blog concerns dialogue and how to write it. Dialogue is the characters speaking to one another or even to themselves and while it sounds easy, it can be difficult to chose what your character might say or how they might say it or even how it might present on the page/word doc/napkin you're writing it on.

Content: The What and Why

What is your character actually saying? Your character is in a situation (which hopefully you put them in or at least know what is going on, if you do not, it is OK). But in most situations, most characters interact in some way, whether it is verbal or not. What your character says has to link to the situation in some way. Picture yourself on a bus sitting next to a friend and you have just seen a dog out of the window. What would be the response or the natural line of conversation here? Probably 'Oh, that dog is cute.' or 'This journey is taking forever.' etc. It unlikely would be a long monologue about a character's deepest darkest secrets or an admission of murder. It is unlikely, but of course not impossible. But generally, one usually tries to keep the conversation to the present and the now. Allow your character to get their point, or even part of it, across to who they talking about clearly. Remember not only does their companion need to know what is being said, but as do your readers.

Why is this person saying this? There is a deeper level to what anybody says and we all know this. A person will generally keep to neutral phrases or topics in order to keep the peace, distance themselves from whoever they are having the conversation with or a person will be curt and short with somebody they are not getting along with or a person will be polite and formal to somebody who demands the respect. There is a reason behind word choice, a reason behind tone and even topic. You won't have to delve into the intricacies of the 'hello' or 'hey' types of dialogue but say if a character was in a situation they must or do chose their words carefully, then you have to consider the why of it as you write the conversation.

Characteristics of Speech

Characters don't talk like they are reading from an instruction manual. Personality, experience and other factors effect how your character might speak. Next time you are in a group setting, focus on how the people around you speak, whether its the sentence structure, the tone, the volume or the flow of their words. No character speaks the same as another, and nor should they. I go further into this in this post here. Now you have established your character's voice as it pertains to personality, now consider the actual voice of your character. How would you describe your character's voice? Even if you don't include a description of it in your narrative, you should have some idea of how your character speaks. Some people have gravelly voices, high pitched voices, clear, garbled, etc. You can of course, fan cast a voice if you wish. The way your character speak can give away things about them as people. Contractions, slang and colloquial phrases are often used to denote those of working class or poorer factions whether the lack of them, including a larger vocabulary, are often attributed to a wealthier, more educated class. You can say a lot about somebody by the way they speak and is an important tool in the entire show don't tell deal. Speaking of...

Showing, Not Telling when Your Character is Yapping

People don't often come out with what they really want to say. Thankfully or else I would be unemployed and in jail.

Concealment: Like I said before, characters will sometimes chose words or specific tones when speaking or breaking off at certain points to conceal what they are thinking. The dialogue might look something similar to using different approaches either with a character trailing off before the offending phrase (...) or catching themselves (-) or hesitating/considering their words/pausing before speaking. It doesn't often mean a character is being evasive, they may be avoiding harming somebody's feelings.

Class/Social rank: Like I said above, the way somebody speaks can be an indication of their status in society. This is not a bad thing, we have different ways of speaking because we come from different walks of life, we have totally different experiences. Writing the character's voice with this in mind can indicate your character's background.

Nationality/Culture: As in the real world, we don't all speak the same language, it makes us who we are and marks out our culture and place in the world. Phrases, sayings and specific words or even pauses to consider the wording or sentence structure can denote a character from having a different mother tongue or culture than those around them. Your character may sometimes have to tailor what they say to somebody of a different culture or nationality even if they speak the same language. For example, if I'm writing a post here or in my WIP, I often have to steer clear of slang, sentence structure. grammar structure and phrases that non-Irish people are not familiar with.

Emotion: Emotion and dialogue walk hand in hand, a character will not speak without some emotion behind it and most emotions make us want to say something. Anger will make our words sharper, harsher, more abrupt. Happiness will make words flow faster, more positive and sometimes even jumbled. Grief will make one sound disconnected, numb and unable to think straight. The way your characters speak can tell your reader and the rest of the cast able to read their emotional state even if they cannot see their face or your helpful dialogue tags.

Sensibilities and Personality: Word choice and avoidance of certain words can tell somebody a lot about the person speaking. Somebody who avoids cursing or using 'vulgar' language might be considered proper, mannerly and formal. Somebody who does might be judged. Somebody who avoids topics that are considered taboo is somebody who aligns to social norms and expectations while somebody who tends to venture into incendiary topics is likely not and more free willed. These are not bad things but it can tell you a lot about the person speaking or in the way that person responds to somebody's words.

On Dialogue Tags and the Controversy of 'Said'

(nobody would ever fucking say that)

I don't buy into this drama over dialogue tags. Some writers will denounce them, some swear by them and they have been arguing over this as often as we do about the Oxford Comma. The real truth is that it is up to you. It is not a cardinal sin to use them and there is nothing - NOTHING - wrong with using the word said. There are of course some dialogue tags I personally hate and some I love but there is nothing wrong with the word 'said' or 'says'. Here are a few commonly used tags.

A

Accused: Used to pin the blame on somebody.

Added: Usually used when the character is adding to something they or somebody else has said.

Agonized: When a character is distressed over something.

Agreed: Used when a character allows something or agrees with something that is said.

Acknowledged: Used when giving voice to a fact.

Announced: Used for a statement.

Asked: Posing a question

Answered: To address a question.

Addressed: When a character draws attention to something or draws the attention of somebody.

Affirmed: Used when a character is stating an opinion or fact.

Apologized: When a character is saying sorry for something.

Approved: When a character is giving their support to a fact or something somebody has said.

Articulated: When a character expresses a thought/idea.

Asserted: When a character affirms an opinion firmly.

Advertised: Used when a character is drawing attention to something.

B

Babbled: Used when a character is talking excitedly, often nonsensically.

Backtracked: Used when a character is going back on something they have said.

Badgered: Used when a character is nagging another.

Bawled: Used when a character is crying out, usually wildly and very loudly.

Bellowed: When a character is shouting.

Began: When a character begins a sentence or thought.

Bemoaned: When a character complains of something.

Bit: Used when a character is being sharp with something that is irritating them or angering them.

Blamed: Used when a character is assigning blame for something.

Bleated: When a character is complaining or moaning, usually used in a derogatory way.

Blurted: When a character says something without pause or thought.

Boasted: When a character displays self-pride.

Boomed: When a character speaks loudly.

Broadcasted: Used when a character is announcing something, usually loudly.

C

Called: When a character cries out for somebody.

Chanted: When a character speaks in a monotone or often repeating words over and over.

Chattered: When a character speaks rapidly, usually out of nerves or excitement.

Chastised: When a character rebukes another character.

Cheered: Used when a character is excited or pleased about something.

Chimed: When a character adds something to something already said.

Choked: Used when a character is having a difficult time getting the words out.

Chuckled: When a character laughs slightly.

Chortled: When a character laughs slightly and breathlessly.

Coughed: When a character’s breath catches.

Croaked: Used when a character’s voice is strained or dry.

Crowed: When a character boasts loudly about something.

Cried: When a character exclaims or weeps.

Cursed: When a character use swear words or denounces another character.

Cautioned: Used when a character warns somebody.

Complimented: Used when a character is lavishing praise on somebody.

Condemned: When a character denounces something.

Considered: Used when a character is thinking aloud.

Conferred: When a character discusses something with another, usually quiet.

Commented: Used when a character is expressing a thought or opinion.

Complained: Used when a character is annoyed over something.

Criticized: When a character comments negatively on something.

D

Declared: When a character announces something.

Denoted: When a character is indicating something.

Dictated: When a character is insisting on something, usually forcefully.

Drawled: When a character is talking in a low, slow voice.

Droned: When a character is talking on and on, usually derogatory.

E

Elaborated: When a character goes into detail explaining something.

Emitted: Used when a character makes a sound.

Enunciated: Used when a character makes their words clear, often to add emphasis.

Expressed: When a character conveys their thoughts and opinions on something.

F

Fumed: Usually when a character is angry over something.

Fretted: When a character is anxious, usually a reputation of intrusive thoughts.

G

Gasped: When a character inhales suddenly, usually in shock or pain.

Giggled: Used when a character laughing.

Gloated: When a character is boasting over besting another character.

Grinned: When a character is smiling widely when speaking.

Groaned: When a character makes a low sound, usually in pain or discomfort.

Growled: Used when conveying anger.

Grumbled: Used when a character is complaining but in a quiet, low way.

Gulped: When a character swallows.

Gushed: Used when a character is talking excitedly about something they care about.

H

Hissed: Used when a character is angry or irritated.

Howled: Used when a character is making a loud, drawn-out sound noise out of pain and grief.

I

Insisted: When a character speaks or lends their support persistently.

Interjected: When a character adds something into somebody else’s discussion.

Insulted: To speak negatively about another character.

J

Jabbered: Used when a character isn’t making sense but talking rapidly.

Joked: Used when a character is making a jest or fun of something.

L

Lamented: When a character expresses a deep thought or grief over something.

Laughed: Used when a character is laughing.

M

Mewled: When a character’s voice is talking in a feeble voice.

Mentioned: When a character interjects something but doesn’t explain it.

Mocked: Used when a character is teasing, either in humour or spite.

Moaned: Used when a character is complaining, in pain or discomfort.

Mumbled: When a character is speaking in a low, almost unintelligible voice.

Muttered: When a character speaks quietly, usually in an effort to not be overheard.

Murmured: When a character talks quietly, usually not to be overheard or to not gain attention.

N

Noted: When a character brings attention to something.

Nattered: When a character goes on about something almost absent-mindedly, usually when nervous or preoccupied.

O

Observed: When a character is offering their view on something.

Ordered: When a character is giving instruction to another, usually forcefully.

P

Panted: Used when a character is out of breath or panicked.

Praised: When a character is showing positive attention to something or somebody.

Prattled: When a character is talking about something without a line of thought or sometimes reason or attention.

Persisted: When a character keeps at a thought or opinion.

Q

Quavered: When a character’s voice warbles usually out of fear or anxiety or sadness.

Quipped: When a character makes a witty remark.

R

Raged: Used when a character is angry.

Ranted: When a character goes on about something, usually in a monologue expressing their emotion about the subject.

Rambled: Used when a character is talking about something that doesn’t matter or warrant attention.

Relayed: Used when a character is telling another character about something that happened previously.

Remarked: Used when a character speaks about something.

Replied: When a character answers back.

Reprimanded: Used when a character is rebuking another for an action or word.

Responded: When a character replies to something said.

Recited: When a character repeats something from memory.

Repeated: When a character says something again, usually right after they have said it.

Retorted: When a character replies tartly or sharply.

S

Sang: Used when a character is happy or light about something.

Scolded: When somebody is reprimanding a character.

Screamed: Used when a character is scared or angry.

Squalled: When a character is crying out loudly.

Smiled: When somebody speaks when they are smiling, usually positively but can be negative.

Smirked: Used when a character is being smug.

Sneered: When a character is speaking in a derogatory way.

Snarled: Used when a character is being aggressive or angry.

Snivelled: When a character is speaking through a runny nose or tears. It is usually used to denote a character as weak or vulnerable.

Sniffled: When a character is speaking with a runny nose and tears.

Shouted: When a character is saying something loudly or with extreme emotional.

Shrieked: When a character makes a sharp sound, usually from extreme emotion.

Stammered: When a character’s voice becomes halted with pauses, usually an indicator of a speech impediment or nerves or anxiety or fear.

Stated: When a character makes a statement.

Stuttered: When a character speaks with difficulty, often repeating the beginning of words, usually out of fear, anxiety or nerves. But it can also be attributed to a speech impediment.

Swore: When a character curses or uses vulgar words to express their anger.

Scoffed: Used when a character is being derisive about something.

Sighed: When a character exhales out of annoyance, anger, tiredness or boredom.

Screeched: When a character’s voice becomes high-pitched and erratic.

Spat: When a character speaks so forcefully that they almost spit saliva in their effort to get their often emotion driven words out.

Sputtered: Used when a character is unable to get the words out, usually out of disbelief.

Sobbed: When a character is crying so hard that their voice is garbled by their tears and gasps for breath.

Suggested: When a character proposes an idea.

T

Thundered: When a character is talking about something in an angry way, usually loudly.

Told: When your character is relaying something to another.

Tittered: Used when a character is half-laughing, half-trying to stifle it.

Thanked: When a character expresses thanks.

Trumpeted: Used when a character is excitedly announcing something.

U

Uttered: When a character speaks.

Urged: Used when a character is prompting another to take an action.

V

Voiced: When a character expresses their opinion verbally.

Vociferated: When a character argues vehemently.

W

Wailed: When a character makes a sound of grief, pain or discomfort.

Warbled: used when a character’s voice quavers.

Wept: When a character cries when speaking.

Whispered: Used when a character speaks quietly, so not to be overheard.

Whimpered: Used when a character’s voice is feeble and weak, usually in pain or fear

Wheezed: When a character’s voice is strained from lack of breath, such as after a coughing fit.

Whined: When a character complains usually in an irritating way.

Y

Yammered: When a character is talking about something with no line of thought.

Yelped: When a character cries out in shock, pain or discomfort.

Yawned: Used when a character is tired or bored.

Yelled: When a character speaks loudly out of anger or panic.

Yowled: When a character cries out, usually high-pitchedly.

Overusing dialogue tags can sometimes take a reader out of the narrative and make your scenes read more like plays. I generally follow the rule of 'if it not essential' it is out the window. You can simply write dialogue in speech quotes and nobody will stop you.

What's in a Voice?

While we have already gone through the personal sound of your character's voice, what does it actually sound like when they are speaking? When describing the voice of your character while they speak, allows the reader to hear what they can only read and offer a clue how the character is feeling in the moment.

Absent-mindedly: When a voice betrays one’s distraction

Booming: When a voice is loud and carrying.

Breathy: When a voice is peppered with breathes.

Brittle: When a voice betrays a strained mind or fragile sense of mind.

Clear: When a voice is devoid of anything to obstruct or conceal it.

Deep: When a voice is low pitched.

Flat: When a voice is devoid of pitch or emotion.

Gravelly: When a voice is rough, croaking like when one just wakes up.

Guttural: When a voice is rough, coming from the back of the throat.

Harsh: When a voice is unkind and hard.

Husky: When a voice is rough.

Monotonous: When a voice is unvaried in pitch, all in one tone of voice.

Muffled: When a voice is obstructed, such as when the mouth is covered.

Nasally: When a voice sounds like it is coming from the nose, often sharp.

Piping: When a voice is high-pitched, almost sing-song.

Raspy: When a voice is dry and rough sounding.

Rich: When a voice is pleasant sounding to the ear.

Shrill: When a voice is high-pitched.

Silvery: When a voice is clear, soft, and musical.

Soft: When a voice is quiet.

Sonorous: When a voice is deep in sound.

Thin: When a voice is strained, with uneven pitch and tone.

Throaty: When a voice comes from the throat, often rough and croaky.

Tremulous: When a voice is shaking.

Velvety: When a voice is smooth.

Warm: When a voice is comforting, gentle.

Weak: When a voice lacks any strength.

Whispery: When a voice is low, hushed.

Wobbly: When a voice is unsteady.

Avoid the monologues if you can

Nobody can really have a conversation with somebody when that person is rattling off about themselves or their dastardly plans etc. It's not really realistic but in fiction, we kind of want to allow characters to do on a little, to let loose and bare their soul in a speech worthy of Peter Dinklage's best work (Laws of Gods and Men, GoT Season 4). Personally I only give somebody monologuing a few minutes before I interrupt with the good old "that's crazy" or multiple "yeah"s. A character has to be captivated - or captive - to listen to somebody keep talking, talking, talking.

Interaction

Again, your characters are meant to be real people, they are not robots on stage. When people are talking, it isn't perfect. When emotions are high, people will often cut across one another or interrupt one another. When characters are excited or in agreement, they might finish one another's sentences. The dialogue in The Bear, is fantastic for this as the interactions feel real. The characters interrupt one another, talk over one another and finish each other's thoughts. People follow a pattern of talking with people they know, they are less guarded and more prone to speaking their mind if they are comfortable with them or know what to avoid saying. People are more formal when speaking to strangers. People will speak differently to different people, there are things you can only say to your sibling and you wouldn't talk to a classmate you barely know the same way you will speak with a dear friend. The way character's interact can tell the reader a lot about the relationship between the characters.

[microlearningplatform]

The Science Behind MaxLearn: Evidence-Based Techniques for Effective Microlearning Platform

In today's fast-paced corporate environment, effective and efficient employee training is paramount. Traditional training methods often fall short, leading to disengaged learners and suboptimal retention rates. Enter MaxLearn, an AI-driven microlearning platform designed to revolutionize corporate training by making learning fast, fun, and effective.

The MaxLearn Methodology

MaxLearn's approach to microlearning is encapsulated in its three core principles:

Fast: Leveraging AI-powered tools, MaxLearn enables rapid content creation and delivery, ensuring that training materials are up-to-date and relevant.

Fun: By incorporating gamification elements, the platform enhances learner engagement and motivation.

Effective: Utilizing scientifically proven methodologies, MaxLearn ensures that learning is retained and can be effectively applied in the workplace.

Fast: Accelerated Learning with AI

One of the standout features of MaxLearn is its AI-powered content creation tool. This tool allows for instantaneous authoring of training materials, significantly reducing the time and resources traditionally required for content development. Key components include:

AI-Author: Assists in generating content tailored to specific learning objectives.

Built-in Authoring Tool: Enables seamless editing and customization of learning materials.

Learning Cards: Facilitate the breakdown of complex information into digestible, bite-sized pieces.

Rapid Updates: Ensure that content remains current and aligned with organizational needs.

Real-time Data Analytics: Provide insights into learner progress and content effectiveness, allowing for timely interventions.

Automated Assignments: Streamline the distribution of learning tasks, ensuring that employees receive the right training at the right time.

Fun: Engaging Learners through Gamification

MaxLearn recognizes the importance of keeping learners motivated. To this end, the platform incorporates various gamification elements:

Win-Win Competition: Encourages healthy competition among learners, fostering a collaborative learning environment.

Badges and Rewards: Acknowledge achievements, providing learners with a sense of accomplishment.

Leaderboards: Offer visibility into individual and team performance, spurring motivation.

Anytime, Anywhere Access: Ensures that learning is accessible across devices, allowing employees to engage with content at their convenience.

Effective: Ensuring Learning Retention and Application

To maximize the effectiveness of training programs, MaxLearn employs several evidence-based strategies:

Risk-Specific Assignment of Learning: Tailors content to address specific areas where learners may be at risk of underperformance.

Active Learning Feedback: Provides immediate feedback, reinforcing correct understanding and rectifying misconceptions.

Spaced Repetition: Schedules content review at strategic intervals to enhance long-term memory retention.

Adaptive Delivery: Adjusts the learning pathway based on individual progress and performance, ensuring personalized learning experiences.

Verifiable Learning Growth: Utilizes assessments and analytics to demonstrate tangible improvements in knowledge and skills.

Addressing Common Training Challenges

Many organizations grapple with training programs that are time-consuming, lack engagement, and fail to provide measurable outcomes. MaxLearn addresses these challenges by:

Reducing Development Time: AI-powered tools expedite content creation, allowing organizations to deploy training swiftly.

Enhancing Engagement: Gamified elements make learning enjoyable, increasing participation rates.

Personalizing Learning: Adaptive delivery ensures that content is relevant to each learner's needs.

Providing Real-Time Insights: Analytics offer visibility into learner progress, enabling data-driven decisions to improve training effectiveness.

Conclusion

MaxLearn stands at the forefront of modernizing corporate training through its innovative microlearning platform. By making learning fast, fun, and effective, it empowers organizations to equip their workforce with the necessary skills and knowledge, leading to enhanced productivity and sustained business success.

For more information, visit MaxLearn's official website.

[mythicmanuscripts]

PLEASE more aemond PLS i am on my knees begging for scraps. ur one of the only writers who actually GETS him

Thank you so much!! One of the main reasons why I started this blog is because I couldn’t find much content of Aemond and how I picture him so this means a lot!! I have a few little ideas that aren’t really long enough for full imagines that I’m just gonna babble on about here for more sub!Aemond content :)) also, you guys are more than welcome to send more requests and to send more specific requests!! Anyway, here’s some random disjointed sub!Aemond babble

I didn’t intend for this to all be SFW thoughts it kinda just happened?? Honestly I have no idea how but yeah this is all SFW, I am happy to write more NSFW though! So if you have any ideas for NSFW sub!aemond then let me know :))

————————————

The first time you ever give Aemond anything resembling an order is at your first dinner after your wedding. Aemond is stiff and formal, barely entertaining conversation, you get the impression that he wishes he were anywhere else.

There’s a pitcher of wine next to Aemond, and you ask to have more wine. You say this out loud, and as expected a servant immediately takes the wine pitcher and fills your glass. You thank them, but then to your surprise when you look back at Aemond he looks angry, and maybe even tells the servant to get lost?

So now obviously you’re beyond confused and you ask him what’s wrong. Which leads him to blush. BLUSH?? And he softly mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like “you asked me to do it and they did”

You press him and eventually realise that for whatever reason, Aemond thought you were asking him to refill your glass and he’s upset that a servant did it before he could. Which… you’ve never been so confused in your life because you what?? He’s barely even speaking to you and then he’s upset he couldn’t fill your glass?? He’s upset he couldn’t do that has always been the servants job?

So without thinking you get up, put your now full wine glass on the cabinet and grab an empty one. You sit back down and ask Aemond to fill your wine glass. You expect him to roll his eyes but he immediately takes the wine pitcher and fills your glass and then gets up and carries the glass to your side of the table, putting it down for you.

You thank him, and to your shock he… smiles?? So then you decide to lay it on thick and say “thank you very much Aemond, I appreciate it” and then he just… actually starts a proper conversation with you and seems very pleased with himself??

So after that you start experimenting, asking Aemond to do things for you, thanking him when he does and praising him and well, he now follows you around everywhere you go and will fire any servants who dare to try and do whatever you’ve asked him to do.

————————————————

When Allicent first met you, she was beyond relieved because she very quickly realised how much influence you have over Aemond. She thinks that she’s finally found a way she can control Aemond and ensure he behaves and does what she wants.

Unfortunately she very quickly realises how wrong she was when she tries to form some sort of pact with you and you shoot her down immediately. You tell her that you have absolutely no interest in being a tool for her to use to control Aemond.

And well, now allicent is in even worse a position because before Aemond would at least mostly listen to her and now? Now Aemond doesn’t even look at her, nevermind speak or listen to her.

Aemond gets all the love and affection and guidance he could ever need from you. Allicent could be on fire next to him and he wouldn’t even notice.

————————————

The first time you suggest kneeling for Aemond, he’s mildly offended. He thought you understood how much he needed to be cared for and loved and never degraded and now you want him to kneel for you?

But, Aemond trusts you and he knows you always know what’s best for him so he agrees to try it once. You put a pillow down on the floor in front of a chair by the fire in his chambers. You sit down on the chair with a book, and have Aemond kneel on the pillow. You let him rest his head on his inner thigh.

Within 2 minutes Aemond is obsessed. He just…. He feels so safe?? You’ve got your hand in his hair, the fire is providing warmth, and it’s just the two of you. Very quickly he closes his eyes and just lets himself drift, the sounds of the fire and of you turning pages lulls him into this calm, almost half asleep state.

So obviously from there kneeling for you becomes common place. And maybe he even starts to tell you things while he kneels? It’s like once he’s there, his head on your thigh, all nice and safe, he’s able to just vent and complain and tell you everything that’s been on his mind.

As much as Aemond loves hearing your counsel and always asks what you think of things, you don’t give him any advice while he kneels for you. That’s not the time, he only wants to be allowed to vent and feel safe when he kneels.

And then maybe you also start reading to him? And god Aemond is just in heaven, not a single one thought in his head. He vents to you, gets all his frustrations out and then gets to just close his eyes and listen to your voice until he’s about to fall asleep right there. Then you help him up and crawl into bed with him, he’s asleep before you can even blow out the candles.

———————————