#which. if you are in or anywhere around my age group. you were forced to watch this.

[sergle]

i've litchrally been going crazymode listening to Maintenence Phase, which is my current favorite podcast, and i highly highly recommend it if you like informative podcasts about debunking misinfo around the wellness/health/diet sphere. it's also just really fucking funny, Michael Hobbs and Aubrey Gordon are great hosts and i love their chemistry together. i'd say "if you're a fat person, you gotta listen to this shit" but honestly i don't even need to be that specific, i just think it's good listening in general. like actually, i think skinny people with or without fat friends would greatly benefit from hearing some of these episodes.

[futureman]

the way we fight

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and joel love taking your frustrations out on each other—in more ways than one

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, drug use, canon-typical violence, slight spoilers for minor tlou 2 cutscene, jackson era, enemies to lovers, undefined age gap, sloooow buildup, smut, grinding, rough oral (male & female receiving)

word count: 6.7k

a/n: no idea how this got so long, but here we are! generally my fics are based on song lyrics, so this one goes out to my girl ari and social house. this honestly took a while to wrap my brain around and idk how the end got so filthy but alas, i really hope y'all enjoy! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated 💕

It’s always an argument with him. He’s just so stubborn. Actually, Joel Miller might be the most stubborn man you’ve ever met. There’s never any room for disagreement or discussion with him—it’s his way or the highway. Half the time, you don’t even know what you’re fighting about, hurling callous, empty words at each other as if they don’t hurt. Immensely.

Maybe you really do genuinely hate each other. Or maybe it’s just for the fun of it.

It’s been like this for as long as you’ve known him, which, in hindsight, hasn’t even been that long. Probably a year? Year and a half? In all that time, you’ve never managed to crack his tough exterior and, as far as you know, no one else has, either.

The only things anyone knows for sure are that he’s Tommy Miller’s older brother and he’s got a daughter named Ellie. He hasn’t made a lot of friends here and it’s not hard to see why. He’s mean in a surly old man kind of way and rarely has anything nice to say to anyone—if he says anything at all.

Yet, somehow you still find yourself spending the majority of your time with him. It’s not something you do by choice. It’s a forced proximity thing.

You can’t tell if Tommy schedules you for patrols together because you’re the only one who hasn’t kicked up a stink about it or if he just thinks it’s funny to watch you both squirm. Most of the town thinks it’s hilarious, so you can only guess it’s the latter.

During your first few outings together, Joel wouldn’t talk to you unless it was absolutely necessary, and, even then, all you’d get was a grunt or some grumbled instructions. The silence got old pretty quickly. It wasn’t until you made your first mistake out in the field that he finally started communicating. Maybe a little louder than you’d hoped.

Now, Joel will pick a fight anywhere, usually over the dumbest shit. But his bark is worse than his bite—most of the time, at least.

On his worst days, his anger is explosive and it seems like he takes it out exclusively on you. It’s honestly a little ridiculous that you haven’t just asked Tommy to take you off his patrols already, but there’s a part of you that’ll never admit you actually kind of like your dynamic.

Not a lot happens in Jackson—it’s well-protected and even the community drama gets a little stale. Joel might be a dick, but he keeps things interesting, keeps you on your toes.

And it’s hard to ignore the fire in his eyes that makes you think he likes it just as much as you do.

It’s fucking freezing out and you haven’t even left for patrol yet before Joel’s muttering something condescending under his breath. Surprise, surprise—he’s in a bad mood and about to make it your problem. You throw him an unimpressed look over your shoulder, the best you can muster this early in the morning, and continue to saddle your horse.

“You wanna say that a little louder, Miller?”

He looks tired and annoyed and, god, you haven’t been awake nearly long enough for this shit. Today’s going to be trying enough as it is. You were assigned one of the longer routes and the clouds are already dark with the promise of rain or worse.

There are a few other patrol groups nearby gearing up to leave and their preparations suddenly slow, eyes darting between the two of you as if they can sense the impending argument. You barely notice their loitering, the small crowd inching forward to not-so-subtly eavesdrop.

“No, really, I’d love to hear to hear what you have to say,” you taunt him, hands settling on your hips. “Y’know, it’s really not like you to keep things to yourself. You sure you’re feeling alright today, old man?”

“Feelin’ just fine, sweetheart,” he grits through his teeth, rolling his eyes. “Just hurry your ass up so we can get this over and done with. I’m not tryin’ to spend any more time with ya than I have to.”

You quirk an eyebrow. Sweetheart? That’s a new one. It sounded sarcastic as hell and a little patronizing but, still, that’s not something Joel’s ever called you before. Useless and annoying, sure, but never sweetheart.

Your stomach swoops, but you force yourself to ignore it; that’s not even remotely something you want to analyze today.

“Uh, yeah…whatever,” you eye him strangely, and he abruptly looks away, shifting his focus back to checking his saddlebags. It’s like he’s purposefully avoiding your gaze, and it’s weird. He’s acting so fucking weird today.

Sparing him one last glance, you throw a leg over your horse and start toward the gate at a slow trot. You don’t bother waiting for him to catch up.

“What’s our first checkpoint?” you call over your shoulder, but he’s somehow already right behind you, his horse falling in line with yours.

“You should already know that,” Joel sighs, brow furrowed in what you can only assume is irritation. Oh, here it comes—the inevitable lecture. He does this every single time you're on patrol, whether you’ve done something wrong or not. You must’ve really pissed him off if you’re hearing it this early.

Except—he’s not berating you. Instead, he pulls a map out of his backpack. “Alright, look,” he says, leaning in closer so you can see. “This is us right here, and—,” his index finger traces a route from Jackson, winding along a road that passes through a small neighborhood, and lands on your first stop, located a few side streets off a main road, “—we should end up here in about an hour if the weather holds up.”

Nodding, you look up at him. You hadn't realized how close his face had gotten to yours, and your lips part around an involuntary gasp. His eyes drop to your mouth for a second too long before he pulls away, folding up his map and tucking it back into his pack.

You try to convince yourself that you imagined it, that Joel Miller would never intentionally look at your lips like he wants to kiss you, but you can still feel his warm breath on your skin and it’s affecting you more than you want to admit.

This is…not at all like your normal dynamic and it’s throwing you off. Joel hasn’t raised his voice once today and, at most, he’s only made a few snide remarks that weren’t nearly as bad as they usually are.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you breathe out, creating a tiny puff of condensation in the air. “It doesn’t even feel like it's cold enough to snow, anyway. The worst we’ll probably get is some rain and we’ve ridden in way worse than that.”

All you get in response is a low grunt, and then he’s lifting the reins, leading his horse in the direction of your first checkpoint. You sigh. Guess you’re back to square one. You never thought you’d miss your spats, and can’t help but wonder what the hell happened to make him change his behavior so radically.

“Seriously, though, are you okay? You’re, like, really quiet today,” you prod, and his whole body tenses. He turns to you, expression angry, and it sends a shiver down your spine. There he is.

“Didn’t I already fuckin’ tell you I’m fine? What, you suddenly lose the ability to hear or somethin’?” He shakes his head in annoyance, and you’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore because you can’t suppress the grin that spreads across your face.

“This girl, I swear,” you hear him mutter as he trots away.

You don’t say anything to each other for the rest of the ride to the checkpoint. The crumbling attorney's office is basically the same as you remember from the last time you were here. It’s old, obviously, and musty, but it’s stocked with random provisions, like food and ammo, so patrol crews can replenish their supplies before heading out to their next destination.

There’s also a killer view of Jackson from one of the windows, and you get distracted looking out at the lights and mountains in the distance. It’s starting to flurry, so you drop your backpack on the floor and stick both hands out to catch some of the snowflakes in your palms. So much for rain.

“You dilly dallyin’ again? Just sign the logbook already so we can move the fuck on,” Joel’s voice startles you out of your reverie. Huffing, you turn away from the window, looking for the pen that’s supposed to be next to the notebook, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“You know what, asshole, you could’ve just as easily signed the damn thing yourself. You were there too, or are you getting forgetful in your old age?” you shoot back as you hunch down, getting on your hands and knees to search under the desk. You hear him scoff behind you.

You spot the pen towards the back, because of course it rolled that far, and bend down so you can reach out a little farther. Your fingers brush one end and then you’ve got it, sitting back up with your prize in hand. Looking over your shoulder, you just barely catch Joel’s eyes darting away from where you were a moment ago, basically puppy-posing on the floor. That’s…suspicious.

“The fuck? Were you just staring at my ass?” you ask incredulously. There’s no goddamn way. He snorts, arms crossed with an uncharacteristic smirk on his face, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“You wish, sweetheart,” he says condescendingly, and there it is again. That fucking word. So, he’s calling you pet names and staring at your ass now? There’s something seriously off about him today and you want to know what his deal is.

“You wanna tell me why you keep calling me that? You’ve been acting weird as fuck all day and it’s giving me whiplash,” you glower at him, taking a seat at the edge of the desk and forgetting all about the logbook. He shrugs.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” he says simply, and you squint at him.

“Seriously, Joel? You've called me sweetheart twice today and now you’re checking me out,” you hop off the desk and walk over to where he’s leaning against the wall. “If I didn’t know any better…,” you glance down at his lips, moving closer, “I’d say you were flirting with me."

Well, that made him angry. "Fuck you,” he growls in your face, and his lips are soft where they accidentally graze your cupid's bow. He’s trembling now, fists clenched at his sides, and you think he’s about to push you away when he grabs you by the hips and shoves you against the wall. Your head lolls back and you laugh cruelly.

“Yeah, Joel,” you roll your hips into his and he grits his teeth, tightening his grip. “I think that’s exactly what you wanna do.”

But before you can go any further, there’s a crash just outside the door accompanied by a familiar sound that turns your blood to ice.

It’s unmistakable. The clicking, guttural and stuttered, is followed by a high-pitched shriek that echoes throughout the small space, and you both freeze. You look up at Joel, terrified, and he raises a finger to his lips, eyes telling you to be quiet or else.

There’s no way either of you can unholster your guns—and reload, in your case—without alerting it to your position. Joel reaches for the hunting knife strapped to his thigh, and you move to do the same, only to realize it isn't there.

Fuck, it has to be somewhere. Probably in one of the dozen random holsters you have attached to you right now.

Frantic, you pat at your sides and legs—anywhere it could be—as your panicked intakes of breath gradually increase in volume. A hand slaps over your mouth, and suddenly Joel is crushing your body against the wall, halting your movements.

"Quit," he whispers harshly, lips brushing the shell of your ear, and you nod quickly.

The creature abruptly changes course, jerking toward the open window, and that’s when you notice something familiar by its feet. It's—fuck, it's your backpack. And your knife is gleaming from where it sits, nestled in one of the side pockets.

Stupid, that was so stupid. If, by some miracle, this thing doesn't kill you, there’s no doubt Joel will once he realizes your mistake. His hand drops from your mouth and he glances back over his shoulder at the clicker, gripping his knife a little tighter.

He looks resolute, and it dawns on you that he’s about to make a move. It takes everything you’ve got not to grab onto his coat and pull him back to you as he slowly shifts away, but then something else stops him in his tracks.

Another screech rings out from the other side of the room, and now you know you’re fucked. There’s only one option left now. Either you run, or you get torn apart. He reaches down to take your hand in his, warring emotions of anger and fear in his eyes as he looks into yours, and squeezes; it’s now or never.

The path to the doorway you came through is somehow miraculously clear, and Joel takes off at a sprint, dragging you with him but, to his horror, you decide to do yet another stupid thing.

For reasons you can’t explain, you find yourself ripping your hand out of his, swerving to snatch your backpack from where it lies just a few feet from the clicker.

Joel is yelling, or at least you think he is, and you vaguely feel his blunt nails scratch the back of your hand as he reaches out to stop you, but he can’t. You’re moving on autopilot, can barely register your body moving at all, until your fingertips skim the strap of your pack and the clicker is shrieking in your face.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to one before, even dead, and it’s worse than you could’ve ever imagined. The world freezes for a moment and you freeze with it, unable to move or look away from the fungus erupting from its skull, teeth gnashing inches away from your throat.

And then you feel warmth—warm, strong arms wrap around your waist and tug harder and harder until you’re back out in the cold. Joel spots his horse a short distance away, likely spooked by the commotion, but you can’t see much farther than that. What was a gentle flurry less than a half hour ago has become a violent blizzard, and you’re both getting pelted by ice that burns as it scrapes across your skin.

There’s one horse—just Joel’s horse—but there’s no time to think about the fate of your own before his hands are on your hips, lifting you up and into the saddle, and he’s climbing on in front of you.

He urges his horse forward and you’re off without so much as a glance behind you, galloping away from danger and down a street that you realize you actually recognize.

“Joel,” you squeeze his waist and he ignores you. He’s shaking and it’s definitely not just from the cold. You can feel the anger radiating off of him in waves and it’s warranted. You fucked up big time. “Joel, turn right,” you say a little louder, and he’s still not listening. “Turn right! There’s a library up ahead, you have to turn now!”

He growls, and you think he’s purposely going to miss the turn until he’s yanking the reins to the right, nearly throwing you both off the horse.

“You better know what the fuck you’re doin’,” he all but shouts back, and you wrap your arms around his waist a little tighter.

“It’s safe!” you yell, struggling to speak loud enough for him to hear you over the wind. “Ellie’s been there before, loads of times, and she says it’s safe. “

And that’s all it takes to convince him.

The library’s completely boarded up and, with the wind howling against your backs, it takes more than a few hard tugs to yank enough of them off to get inside the lobby with Joel’s horse.

He hands you the reins before moving into the next room, crouching along the rows of aging books and knocked-over bookcases, and you peek in, watching him anxiously. Cracked bricks litter the ground, and he steps over a few as he crouches into place behind a broken book cart.

He picks one up and then shoots you a look, eyebrows lifting pointedly, and you realize he wants you to get back into the lobby, out of sight. You duck behind the wall, placing a soothing hand on his horse right as you hear the sound of the brick shattering against the ground, and wait. A few agonizing seconds pass before you hear him throw one more a little farther out, just to be sure.

When nothing startles or jumps out, Joel whistles and you know that’s your cue to come out from your hiding spot. Normally, that would piss you off immensely, him whistling for you like you’re a fucking animal, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.

You’re exhausted now that the adrenaline’s wearing off, and the only thing you want to do is curl up into one of the torn-up chairs in the corner and pass out until morning. But that’s not what Joel has in mind.

“Y’think you’re off the hook for the shit you pulled earlier?”

You sigh, head tipping back and thumping against the bookcase behind you. “Do we have to do this right now? Joel, I’m tired and hungry, and fucking cold, and I really don’t have the energy.”

“Seriously? Sure looked like ya had the energy when you were runnin’ straight into that clicker’s mouth,” he scowls, reaching down to grab something next to the book cart and throwing it at your feet. “Thought ya might want this back since you apparently decided it was worth more than your life.”

You inhale sharply through your nose, eyebrows pinching together. Joel…he—

It's your backpack.

You were so sure it got left behind when he saved you from that clicker and yet, there it is. You lean over to pick it up, but Joel kicks it out of reach before you get the chance. He looks livid and now, you realize, you’re about to get that lecture you dodged earlier tenfold.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Me? I'm not the one having an identity crisis! You’ve been nothing but distracting all damn day,” you scoff bitterly. “None of this would've happened if you hadn't had a complete personality makeover overnight.”

You can’t believe he…is he serious? There’s no way you’re taking the fall for this, not all of it. Yeah, you fucked up with the backpack, but Joel isn't entirely blameless, either. If you hadn’t been fighting again, you would’ve just signed the stupid logbook and moved on like you were supposed to.

"Yeah, alright, sweetheart. It's my fault you almost got us both killed. Maybe you’re forgettin’ I saved your goddamn life back there, somethin' I wouldn't have had to do if you hadn't gone and done something so fuckin’ stupid."

Sweetheart.

"Stop calling me that! I…fuck, Joel, I just don't get you. I get it—I know I fucked up, but…,” your voice cracks and you can feel your lower lip wobbling, but you can’t let yourself cry. That would only prove to Joel what he already knows—you’re weak. “I’m sorry, okay? What more do you want from me?”

He chuckles mirthlessly. “You really wanna know what I want from ya?” He crowds your space, leaning in slightly. His head tilts like he's going to kiss you, and your breath hitches. “I want ya to get your shit together and stop makin’ unnecessary mistakes,” he says cruelly instead.

Your jaw drops.

"No, you know what? Fuck this,” you seethe. “When we get back to Jackson, I’m telling Tommy to never put me on your patrols again. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Think I give a shit about that? Go ahead, you’d be doin’ me a favor!” he yells at your back as you storm away, and you flip him off over your shoulder. Behind you, he sighs heavily, sounding as worn out and frustrated as you feel.

What a load of bullshit. You don't deserve to be treated like this. There's a stark difference between the inconsequential arguments you normally have and whatever the hell that was.

And the worst part? It hurts so much more than you expected it to. Leave it to you to get attached to the asshole whose personal mission it is to make you miserable. This whole thing was fun while it lasted, but you meant what you said. You and Joel, it’s over.

You exhale wetly, tears still threatening to fall as you leave him behind in what the yellowing signs tell you is the romance section. Well, isn’t that ironic.

You quickly realize navigating the library in the dark is more difficult than you anticipated, even with your flashlight. Not even ten steps away from where you started, you trip over something protruding from the ground and almost land flat on your face.

Joel comes running over as you let out a frustrated noise and push yourself up onto your knees. His knife is at the ready like he was expecting danger but, no, it’s just you humiliating yourself even further. He lets out a relieved sigh, holstering his knife, but then just stands there glaring down at you.

“I’m fine, by the way,” you wave a hand from the ground. He shakes his head, reaching down to help you up, and his hand feels so nice in yours—big, strong, and calloused.

You curse yourself for still thinking about him like that, like anything at all, but you can't help it. And when his hand drops yours, it feels distinctly cold and empty.

Shaking it off, you aim your flashlight at the offending spot on the floor. “What is that, anyway?” you ask Joel as he crouches down to brush away some of the dirt and debris.

“A handle,” he mumbles, pulling out his knife again and digging it into a crack in the floor, tracing around what looks like…a door?

“Is that a trapdoor?” You lean over his shoulder to get a better look. He looks back at you and nods, looking a little less angry and a lot more concerned. “Well, should we check it out?”

Instead of answering you, he wrenches the door open and shines his flashlight into the opening. There’s a ladder leading down and you can hear something rumbling below that sounds like a generator.

“Stay here,” he eyes you sternly as he begins his descent down the ladder.

“Uh, yeah, that’s not happening,” you scoff, following him. The ladder’s longer than you expected, and once your feet touch the ground, you reach out to run your hands along the wall, searching for a light switch.

A few moments later, your fingers come across something vaguely switch-like and you flip it, a warm glow filling the room, emanating from about a dozen heat lamps hanging from the ceiling. Your eyes adjust and—

“No fucking way.”

Joel is silent beside you, and you glance over, his expression just as stunned as yours is. You step closer. “Is that…?”

“Weed,” he breathes out.

You didn’t mean to get this high. Really, you didn’t. But you're in a fucking grow room hidden beneath a library in some tiny, backwater town, and you almost just died. So really, what reason was there not to?

The blizzard’s still going strong outside and, at the very least, it’s nice and warm down here. There's also the added bonus of something fun to do while you wait it out.

…Yeahhh, so you might’ve found a mason jar full of already rolled joints between some couch cushions, literally just sitting there for the taking. What were you supposed to do? Not smoke them?

But what surprises you even more than the pot itself is that Joel is smoking it, too.

It’s cute how he coughs after every drag, eyes watering as you pass a joint back and forth. The air is thick with smoke and a strange tension that neither of you can really describe, but you’re not fighting anymore. Not yet, at least.

The couch you're sitting on is cozy and less tattered than the chairs upstairs, so you settle there for the night, sitting closer than you ever willingly have before. Enough time has passed that you’re beginning to realize neither of you plans on moving, either. That you’re actually enjoying each other’s company.

The warmth of him seeps pleasantly through your clothes, and he feels so solid and real against you. Unconsciously, you melt into his side, your fuzzy brain chemicals urging you to feel more, more of him, and he tenses only for a moment before lifting an arm to rest behind you on the back of the couch.

It's strange how readily he's accepting your touch now. With each drag, you feel a little braver and press more of your body into his, draping your legs across his lap and nesting your head in the crook of his neck. He goes boneless when you mouth damply at the skin just below his jaw, his throat rumbling under your lips as he lets out a ragged breath.

You’ve both loosened up so much since earlier. It’s an easy, comfortable sort of peace you’ve found down here, even after the horrors you experienced earlier in the day. Part of you wishes it could always be like this with Joel but, then again, that just wouldn’t be you and Joel.

Your relationship thrives on the way you fight, almost like you can’t exist together without the promise of battle. So, when the high wears off and the world feels less lazy and more dire, you’ll both remember with sharp clarity that you hate each other. The memories will fade away and the war will continue. That’s just how it is.

It’s a little sad when you think about it, but for at least a little while longer, you’ll still have this version of you and Joel. You’ll enjoy the way he feels pressed up against your body; the way he feels pliant and suggestible under your lips.

And you’ll ask the question that’s been eating away at you all day because right now, you’re positive your lips can convince him to do anything.

“Tell me why you keep calling me sweetheart,” you murmur against his skin. He freezes, clearly not expecting you to bring it up again. You lift the blunt to his lips and encourage him to inhale to calm his nerves. The smoke plumes from his nose like a dragon as he exhales, and you're enraptured by the way it swirls through the air before dissipating. He braces a hand on your thigh before responding.

"Well, I…uh—," he mumbles, his cheeks turning a deep shade of burgundy, and you can’t resist reaching out to stroke the heated skin with your fingertips. He breathes shakily as he continues, "I—had a dream about ya last night, and…you, uh—you were…"

He cuts himself off, and your mind goes fuzzy for a moment as you let that little bit of information sink in. So, Joel was dreaming about you last night…and now, he’s treating you so much differently. Calling you pet names, eyeing you up, touching you. It all makes sense—but now you need him to tell you everything.

"What was I doing in your dream, Joel?"

He meets your gaze, looking flustered and a little ashamed, and it's a far cry from the man who was yelling at you not even an hour or two ago.

"You, uh," he clears his throat, still hesitating. You bite your bottom lip in anticipation, sucking it wetly into your mouth, and his eyes darken. He lifts a thumb to your mouth, tugging your lip down just slightly, and you can see the moment his apprehension disappears. "You were on your knees for me," he murmurs. "Doin' such a good job, too, workin' that pretty mouth of yours."

You inhale sharply and his thumb drops, but his eyes never leave your lips. Gingerly, you pluck the joint still burning between his fingers and take one last deep drag before flicking the rest to the side and crashing your lips onto his.

God, they feel exactly like you thought they would, soft and a little chapped from the cold, but so fucking eager against yours. You hold his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs along the roughness of his beard, and he groans as you exhale into his mouth, tasting the smoke on your tongue.

Sighing, you lean back slowly, heavy-lidded eyes roving over his face to take in his kiss-swollen lips and that beautiful burgundy flush. He's so pretty, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his thick, graying hair as he pants heavily below you.

You need to feel more of him, all of him, so you climb into his lap, straddling his hips and grinding down against where he's already straining in his pants. He grips you tighter in response, working you steadily across his hardening cock.

"Keep going,” you moan breathily. You're already so wet, and heat blooms in your belly every time your clit grazes the seam of his jeans. It's a foggy, hazy pleasure, what you feel when he speaks, and you're addicted to it. “Keep telling me about your dream—a-about my mouth…I wanna hear more.“

You feel rather than hear him growl low in his throat as he ducks his head down to your neck, sucking and biting bruises into your skin.

“Your mouth…so fuckin’ wet—s-soft and tight around my cock,” he sucks hard under your jaw, and you gasp. “Takin’ me all the way down, like I always knew you could.”

Your breath hitches, eyes rolling back. The thought of him dreaming about his cock down your throat makes your cunt pulse, and now you're positive you're soaking through his pants.

You bet he thinks about it when you're on patrol together, too—that when you're fighting like you've both got something to prove, he's thinking about shutting you up with his cock. Fucking your mouth to show you that what he says goes.

"M-more, Joel…ngh, fuck, I need more," you reach down to shove his shirt up so you can feel him, his stomach flexing and unflexing under your palms. He starts to buck into your clothed pussy faster, like he's fucking you through the fabric, and you whine pathetically as he tugs hard on your hair, yanking your head to the side.

"S’alright, n-needy girl, 'm gonna tell you exactly how I was fuckin' that sweet mouth of yours last night…h-how you were—," he groans raggedly in your ear, voice cracking, and you swear you can feel his heartbeat racing between your legs. "…c-chokin' and gaggin' around my cock while I was cummin' down your throat…"

He keeps giving you what you asked for, tells you all the filthy shit he wants to do to your mouth, and his hips start to stutter like he's bringing himself closer to orgasm with his own words. It would make a lot of sense—Joel's always loved the sound of his own voice, especially when it's directed at you.

But you can’t hear much of anything anymore aside from the sound of your own stuttered moaning, suddenly so, so close to hurtling over the edge with him. You’re sliding so easily over his cock now and you brace your hands on his shoulders as your thighs start to quake around his waist. He digs his fingers into the plush curve of your ass, pulling you down harder, but you squeeze his shoulders roughly to get his attention.

“Y-you—Joel, you can’t cum,” you whine into his neck, and he all but snarls in response. “No…no, no, no. Want you t-to fuck my mouth—you have to cum in my mouth—”

He abruptly yanks you off his lap, shoving you back onto the couch and wrenching your jeans and underwear down in two hard tugs.

You barely have time to let out a squeal before he buries his face in your cunt, honing in on your clit and sucking wetly. He flattens his tongue, circling once, twice, three times, and then you’re cumming with a loud exhale, gushing as you grind into his face.

Your pussy’s still pulsing, locking down around nothing, as you tug him off of you by his hair.

“Joel—jeans..o-off…now.” You help him push them down just enough to free his cock, and then your mouth is on him, sucking him down to the hilt.

His hips buck off the couch of their own accord and he groans pathetically as you gag around him. He’s petting your head and saying something raggedly above you, likely apologizing for hurting you, but it’s drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears.

Instead of pulling off to reassure him that you very much want him to keep gagging you, you guide his hands to bury themselves in your hair and squeeze his thigh, praying he gets the hint. His fingers tense against your scalp as he holds you in place and, yeah, he absolutely gets it.

Your head feels like it’s disconnecting from the rest of your body as he starts fucking into your mouth the way he was probably dreaming about last night. He’s just so fucking big, and you feel a weird sort of pride bloom in your chest at being able to take him like this.

Tears are streaming down your face from the effort and you’re drooling all over his lap but, fuck, if he wants to do this every time you patrol together, you’ll let him. You take back everything you said before—if Tommy ever takes you off Joel’s patrols, you’ll kill him.

His fingers start to tug harder, painfully at your hair and you can hear him moaning something above you, his words slurred and desperate.

“S-so fuckin’ good, sweetheart, you’re…ngh—fuckin’ perfect,” he grits through his teeth, breath hitching as you wrap your lips tighter around him, flattening your tongue along the underside of his length. “‘m gonna cum…fuck, fuck—need you t-to swallow it all, sweetheart… know you can do it…so goddamn good.”

Humming and swallowing around him, you reach up to cup his balls and he erupts, pumping thick cum into your mouth and down your throat. Deep groans are punched out of his chest with every spurt and you can feel his cock pulsing against your tongue.

There’s so much of it. You try your best to do what he asked, to be good and swallow everything, but it’s starting to leak out the corners of your mouth and down his cock. Slurping up as much as you can, you pull off with an audible pop and lick off the rest of the salty, white streaks remaining on his skin.

When your watery eyes finally meet his, he’s looking at you like maybe he really has been dreaming this whole time. He’s still a little dazed, from both the weed and the intense orgasm, and he reaches out to cradle your face in his hands almost as if to prove to himself that you’re real. It’s a surprisingly tender gesture that kind of makes your heart ache.

Your lips quirk up as you lean into his touch, aching to prolong the moment, and he leans forward to press a sweet kiss to them, mouth coaxing yours open to taste himself on your tongue. You whine softly as his tongue runs along your bottom lip, and then he pulls back, hauling you into his arms to lie back on the couch.

Those heat lamps feel unbearable now. You're both hot and sweating, chests heaving from exertion, but you still refuse to separate from each other. Your brain’s feeling a lot less foggy, so you’re probably coming down from your high, which means Joel is, too. The realization sends a pang of worry through your chest like you expect him to suddenly come to and push you away, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he pulls your back to his chest, positioning your bodies more comfortably before murmuring fondly in your ear, "You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. Maybe you’ll get to keep this after all—and without sacrificing everything that makes you and Joel, well…you and Joel. You twist around to shoot him an unimpressed look, but the burgeoning grin on your face betrays you.

“What, you’re just figuring that out? Took you long enough.”

He scoffs. “Listen, sweetheart—“ But you gasp, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence. No, way. How are you just putting two and two together now?

“Wait…oh my god, wait—is this why you keep calling me sweetheart? Because it's what you called me when I was blowing you in your sex dream?” You’re grinning so hard it hurts. How the fuck didn't you notice that earlier?

There was plenty of time to work it out when you were all but fucking on the couch for the past hour. But then…he didn’t actually start calling you sweetheart until he was cumming, and the realization makes your cunt throb. You file that information away for now, but make a mental note to come back to it later—hopefully back in Jackson with Joel.

…who’s still mumbling irritatedly into your shoulder. You tilt your head back to press your lips under his jaw, and you're quickly learning that kissing that particular spot turns him to jelly.

“You can keep calling me sweetheart,” you start, thinking over your next words carefully. “But I’ve got conditions.”

“Oh, she’s got demands now,” you can hear the dramatic eye roll in his voice. You suck a bruise into his skin to stop the back sass and it works spectacularly.

“Oh, shut up. It benefits you too, asshole,” you glare up at him before continuing. “I want your dick in my mouth every time we patrol from now on. And next time, you have to fuck me.”

His fingers dig into your sides, and you’re pretty sure you just felt his cock twitch against your ass.

“…Y-yeah, I, uh. I can do that,” he stutters, suddenly demure, and it dawns on you how much you like seeing all these different sides of Joel. He’s been mean and angry, shy and tender, and so fucking sexy all in the span of a single day. It's not something you ever would've expected from him.

You used to think he was just some grumpy old man and that his one personality trait was being an obnoxious jerk, but tonight you were proven very, very wrong.

You pull his arms tighter around you, let yourself get lost in the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back, and hum contently. You’ll have to thank Ellie and her weed-grower friend later.

“Y’know, I almost thought you were gonna say no more fighting,” he says after a few seconds of silence. You look up at him incredulously, and he chuckles.

“Nah, where’s the fun in that?”

thanks so much for reading! 🥰

[quiwilove]

Like a Tattoo - Prologue

Pairing: Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan x Omatikaya!Reader.

Synopsis: Neteyam’s backstory.

Genre: Angst.

Warnings: Depiction of violence, Mentions of blood, Death, War, Arranged betrothal, Grief, ED, Nightmares. MDNI.

Word-count: 3.1k

Author’s note: This will be a multi-chapter series and I thing having a backstory gives the readers(you!) a better understanding of the characters. If you don’t want to read the prologue it’s totally fine! Also this is my first time publishing a work of mine on tumblr, so be patient with me, please! Write to me if you have any suggestions or advice regarding the story.

Combatants

- At the age of fifteen he had already learned silence.

It was his fourth time at a raid. Everything was planned, calculated to the very last drop.

Jake Sully, the great Olo'eyktan and his father, had stayed till late hours perfecting the plan of their raid. The tent in which they were staying was mostly used for gatherings of all the skilled warriors within the clan including Toruk Makto. The meetings consisted of strategic planning of their upcoming attacks, they would draw on a makeshift map of the area that surrounded the tracks made by their oppressors. The tent was large enough to hold a dozen, it had a lengthy table in the middle making the space feel confined. Air felt thick, hard to breathe in.

Jake Sully had his hands pressed against the rough wood, eyebrows furrowed and eyes searching for an answer that could not be seen. Neteyam wondered if his father’s muscles were always so tense, almost as if they were about to snap.

“The RDA has taken a huge blow on their equipment. They won’t be willing to sacrifice more. I presume they’ll bring reinforcement, Sir.”

“That’s for sure, the question is from where they will hit us.” Toruk Makto’s hand went to trace over the previously drawn lines of the movement they were planning. Ink smudged beneath his fingertips slightly staining them with black. Everyone had left the gathering hours ago, pleased with their work. But to Jake it felt like nothing was finished, nothing felt right.

“It could be from anywhere, Sir. We should be prepared for the worse. Gathering a larger group of warriors on the ground would be our best option.” Neteyam felt confident in his answer, or rather tried to.

“Why so?”

“It would be easier for us to not be seen. Sky people have a pattern to their attacks. They have no ground force, only air force, so-” His fingers traced next to the lining of the tracks on the map. “-if we move here where the trees keep us cover. We would have a greater plane to move across, they wouldn’t know where to hit.” Neteyam’s eyes glanced up to his father’s, searching for validation. But Jake Sully’s face remained stoic thinking over what his son stated.

“Spotters will still be vital for us but only a few are necessary. The less we are seen in the sky the better.” He continued. His father hadn’t uttered a word. The tent's walls painfully closed around, making it hard to inhale. The confidence he once felt had drained from him. An apology for his futile comment was about to slip off his tongue as he took his last sharp breath.

“Come on, we’ll need to get a good night’s sleep.” He patted his son’s shoulder and walked out of the tent. Yes, sir, it was a whisper, almost like he had said it to himself. He leaned against the table folding the scruffy piece of paper, placing it where all the other maps and plans were situated. They smelled like poison. Once you touch them you would be marked with the blood of the ones that died during the raids. You would be part of the reason for their death.

The fifteen-year-old tried to wholly blame their invaders, the men who shot their bullets at them. But after the names of the warriors who laid deceased on the battlefield were announced, guilt consumed his mind. The blood on his hands couldn’t be washed.

Morning had come. Everyone rushed from place to place picking up weapons. Their faces were painted in different colours, masking their fear. No one was sure whether they would live throughout the day. It was a gamble, each of their raids was a gamble with death. All members of the gatherings knew of this - an unspoken truth. A truth that was too hard to swallow. Felt taboo to even think about it, so it was never spoken of aloud.

The young boy’s footsteps matched the ones of all the skilled warriors, the sense of confidence radiating off of them - they were fast and controlled, each step very well calculated. He was marching off to the tent that had been occupied by him and his father many hours ago, knowing that Jake Sully would be there. He needed to apologize for his previous outburst. He felt compunction clawing at him, he needed to learn to be silent - to keep all fruitless comments to himself. Neteyam was consumed by his own thoughts, each yell or noise was blurred only making a slight vibration passing through his skin. Then he heard it. Her voice.

“Neteyam, yawne!” The voice of his soon-to-be mate. She jogged through the crowd, a smile on her plump lips. Her face was decorated with warrior's paint complimenting her seraphic features. Her eyes were big, having so much life in them.

“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with Kiri and Mo’at helping them?” His eyes narrowed.

“I won’t be needed there.” She took his larger hands into her own, squeezing them lightly. The smile on her face remained. ”I’ll be joining you, fighting with you.”

The scowl plastered across his face deepened. A sudden premonition came over him. He had been terrified of the thought of other na’vi, unknown to him putting their life on the line. But his future mate? He could not let such a thing happen. The mere idea of losing her left him petrified.

“No. You won’t be. You’ll be staying with Mo’at, where I know you’ll be safe.” The Olo'eyktan’s son tried to keep his voice soft.

“Your father told me I can come.” Her hands moved up to his shoulders then to his face, gently caressing his freckled skin. ”I am a warrior, Neteyam. I know how to keep myself safe and… I have you to protect me.” His gaze softened, grasping her hands in his rough ones. ‘How could my father permit such a delicate girl on the filthy field?’ He thought displeased.

Neteyam and Syay had met a year ago, not by fate but their parents. Her family being a respected household in the clan, it was no wonder they would soon cross paths. At first their interactions were forced, neither of them wanted to be betrothed to the other but they knew this was their duty. They had to get along for the clan, for the people. Months went by and the hours they spent together seemed less painful and felt less like a chore.

“Promise me you will stay by my side at all times.” It was a demand. Leaning forward Syay touched her forehead to his. She could sensor the cold sweat clinging to the boy’s skin, his muscles taut

“I will, yawne.”

The brown cloth that was used as an entry was moved to the side revealing several combatants gathered around his father. On the table beneath their palms was placed the worn out map. Their gazes shot like arrows in his way, ready to pierce through the thickest flesh. Agitation was written on their faces, mortality blooming under their skin. Toruk Makto had gathered them once again due to his own fear of failure. The Olo'eyktan was the last to pick up his head.

Neteyam’s posture was awkward, out of place, his fingers still gripping the cloth. Their predatorily stare made him feel weak as If he were to be hunted. Cautiously he took a step forward, the tent’s entrance sliding closed, then a few more steps until he was at the base of the table.

“Sir, may I speak with you?” The young boy spoke with pseudo confidence, all eyes on him but his own bore through his father’s.

“Go on.”

“Privately, if possible.”

Jake Sully dismissed his comrades with a hand gesture. They all exited the tent without questioning. Authority radiated off his father. A thing he admired about him. He often wished to be more like his father - a true leader with no fear.

“I-I want to apologize for yesterday. I was creating some stupid war plan in my head and I thought it sounded smart but after saying it out loud, it lost all sense. I should have-” He was quickly cut off by his father.

“No, you are too quick to blame yourself. You are still learning Neteyam, yes but what you stated previously was quite an idea.” He licked his chapped lips, pausing for a moment “I talked with the other warriors about it. Perhaps you were right about their lack of ground force. What I am saying is that we’ll try out your plan. With that you need to know that you and some of my men will be the only spotters.”

The boy’s yellow eyes widened at the thought. Recognised by Jake, validated. He was proud of himself. The embarrassment he had felt was draining from him but then he remembered. ‘What about Syay?’ His mind raced.

“Father, Syay told me she will be coming with us. She will be with me, a spotter, right?” He leaned over the table with his hands on the edge. The size of the wooden surface seemed to shorten as his father remained silent.

“Look, Syay’s father will be on the ground and she will be with him. We both know he is capable of keeping his own daughter safe so you shouldn’t worry.” Neteyam did the opposite. He began to worry. Even if the best known soldier to Pandora was with his beloved, he would still fear for her wellbeing. He needed her to be next to him, eyes to be locked on her. The boy was painfully aware that on the ground death was promised and mercy was granted to the strongest.

“I want her with me. Switch her with one of your men, the sky is safer and you can easily dodge bullets. I can’t allow her to get hurt. Please understand me, Sir.”

Jake Sully shook his head. Contemplating whether his decision will be fatal later on. He knew his son was responsible but still a child.

“It will be for the best this way. It’s too late to change plans.” Jake spoke and hoped his boy would accept this and move on.

“Sir, I can protect her, she'll be better off with me.”

“No.”

“I won’t let her out of my sight!” The young na’vi was beginning to bargain. Desperate to be with his Syay.

“Neteyam.”

“Father, please…” There was a pregnant pause.

“A-a-a-h, you must take full responsibility. No playing around, understand me?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir!” Neteyam let out a small sigh of relief, a breath that was caught up in him from the first steps he took into the tent.

“Now get outta my face.” With that the child warrior left the tent almost too quickly and eagerly.

Ikrans soar through the sky as their riders inspect the air nervously. Before take off all na’vi gathered listening to the words spoken from their mighty Olo’eyktan. His words were like a soothing song to the mothers, wives and children. The ones afraid their family would not return this moon. Neytiri, Jake’s mate and Neteyam’s mother was there, standing close, cradling her youngest in her arms. Prior to going on raids she felt the need to ease her children, hold them close to herself as if they were to perish. She was never too scared of a war, she knew the necessity of it and the sacrifices to be made but as her children grew they joined the war. Their safety was at risk and that is when the fear blossomed within her.

Neytiri’s gaze fell on Neteyam. Many said he inherited the strong features of his mother. The eyes, the nose, the lips all resembled her’s, but she could only see Jake in her son. He had a face stoic but gentle and pure as Jake’s. Her eyes quickly moved to the ikran’s rider gliding next to the young boy. Syay, a girl tough for her age. She was a talented warrior, her bow like an extension of her arm. She never was the type to mess around the other young na’vi girls, to weave baskets with them, to make bracelets together, to even gossip. But this was not looked down upon as her hunting skills out maneuvered the need of acquiring other expertises. Once, Neytiri tried to teach the child how to thread a piece of clothing but soon she understood it was impossible. The child couldn’t even slide a bead on the thread without it disappearing in the ground. Too sloppy with her hands to make a simple cloth but skilled enough with the knife to kill in seconds. ‘Such a strange thing.’ Neytiri would often think.

Before her thoughts could wander any further Jake’s voice boomed through her ear piece. The noise piercing her ear drums.

“We are approaching the target. Be ready.”

Bullets hit their target, fire spread on the ground, na’vi screamed and cheered. If a painter had the chance to portray the scene that absorbed the battle ground, it would have been a grotesque depiction of the colour red, splashed all over the canvas. Another shipment vehicle had been taken down. Quickly, the soldiers started searching through the containers with the intention of finding valuable weapons. In spite of that, a thud of empty boxes could be heard. It didn’t even take long for Jake Sully to realize that he had been tricked. He took the bait. Shock was what he felt, which was swiftly outlived as many dark and gruesome thoughts absorbed his consciousness. Depictions of everything in their plan going wrong.

“Sawtute!” Humans.

Jake cursed under his breath. He looked around and saw all the combatants looking in his direction, ready to take action, to listen to his command. At once it went silent. A painful silence. And so he began to scream and yell. But he couldn’t hear his own voice. Deafening ring went all around the plaine. The humans have begun their maschere. Their firearms pierced the air and then the flesh of the na’vi.

“Fall back!” The Olo’eyktan yelled. Some soldiers ran, others shot at the helicopters soaring in the wind. Several fell and the other remained. He, himself, fought however he could, but their opponents were too strong. The fight wasn’t fair and they were greatly outnumbered. An ignoble fight, a bloody and messy war.

“Dad!” Neteyam called though the throat mic distressed.

“Are you okay, son?” A premonition came over Jake.

“Dad, I don’t know w-what happened. I-I was on the ground with Syay, she-“ Neteyam’s voice broke and a pained cry erupted from his throat. “She wanted to help her dad with the cargo and-“ Jake’s patience was thin.

“What happened?!” The Oly’ektan screamed.

“Syay is dead, dad!”

The silence. Present again. A helicopter crashed 10 metres away from Jake Sully. But the silence continued. Neteyam shook with every breath he took. Stream of tears and snot went down his chin onto the burning ground, as he held his soon-to-be mate. He held her tightly, close to his chest. The hot blood that stained his skin and clothes didn’t bother him. He thought that if he held her for long enough she would come back to life, and her chest would start to rise and fall. But she was still, awfully still. The young boy wailed, unable to accept the inevitable. ‘At least her father was next to her. At least in her final moments she was next to the people she loves.’ He thought. Lucky.

With eyes red and hands trembling, Neteyam was found embracing Syay by his father. The battle was ongoing around them, but it didn’t seem as if the boy cared.

“Let me see you.” His father ordered him. The boy-soldier looked at his father with desperation. Jake brought his hands to touch his son’s scraped face and then observed his body for any fatal injuries. Relieved, the man then turned his attention towards Syay who laid next to his son. A sense of bitterness went through him as many memories of the sweet girl were brought back into his mind.

“Your mother will be here soon, she’ll take you home.”

“But-“ Neteyam didn’t want to leave his precious girl, however war comes with its many sacrifices and heartbreaks.

“Learn to be silent.” His voice was sharp. Neytiri soon landed with her ikran.

The following hours after the battle ended, the usually turquoise sky was gray. The na’vi mourned and grieved their losses. After Neteyam’s family understood of the death of his ‘soon-to-be’ mate and her father, they were all devastated. Misery loomed over them because of the major loss. However they couldn’t sulk for days to no end, because they had duties - the people were waiting for them.

Months went by, the funerals passed. Neteyam still blamed himself for everything that went on during the infamous battle. He continued to think that if he were more assertive and stern, he and Syay wouldn’t have gone to the ground where all hell broke loose. He thought that maybe… he should have been the one shot. Neteyam couldn’t sleep for days without having nightmares. Food for him seemed almost unpleasant. He was carrying the burden of death with himself. …But as many say, time heals. The said words would often cross his mind, a simple reminder that life continues. Thus, he devoted himself to work. Every chance he received, he would occupy his time with chores and training, no time for rest as it brough unwanted thoughts. The Omatikaya clan was looking up to him as the next Olo’eyktan in line and the expectations were high.

Five years later…

The Sullys had to take a leave. They had to depart from their people, their clan. The RDA hadn’t backed down and only grew stronger with time. Recently, Colonel Quarich came back from the dead in search of his target - Jake Sully. Not long ago, Neteyam’s siblings were under grave danger when they were captured by the dream walkers. In result, Jake took the hard decision of leaving their home for the good of the people and themselves. He was soon stripped of his title of Olo’eyktan and there was no turning back. The younger Sullys were distraught by the unexpected news, but it wasn't up to them to decide, so their pleas and bargains didn’t affect anything. Neteyam, already an adult, 20 years of age, was rather objective about the choice as he understood the vital nature of the resolution and he didn’t say a word.

[yan-lorkai]

*･゜ﾟ A/N: It's currently midnight but I had this idea and it won't leave me alone until I write it. I guess it's no surprise to anyone but I love soft yanderes, so writing this was a good experience as it gets out of my comfort zone a bit lol.

*･゜ﾟ Warnings: Gn!reader, Kidnapping, cannibalism, your basic yandere content. I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

Repulsion. Repulsion was what you felt as you were forced to sit there and watch as Floyd took delight in beating up some poor bastard who had the gall to try to help you escape, his teary eyes looking your way as if he wanted to to ask you for help, but all that left his lips were screams of pain and pleas for mercy.

Pleas that wouldn't have been necessary if he hadn't helped loosen your bonds and given you the key. Pleas that wouldn't be necessary if he'd just turned a blind eye in your direction and told anyone who asked that he never saw you anywhere. But unfortunately he was foolish. And he helped you. And now he would pay the price with his life and you would lose a little more of your sanity as you watched his death helplessly, letting the guilt gnaw at you a little more.

You felt the impact of each blow as if Floyd were hitting you with those bloody fists, as if the hot blood was seeping through invisible wounds and smearing your skin and clothes with the red, iron liquid. And a lump formed in his throat as you struggled not to cry or scream. If you did that, maybe Jade would torture you too.

"Shh, my pearl." Azul whispered behind you. The hot breath on your neck sent unpleasant shock waves through your body, but you bit your bottom lip to keep from reacting when his gloved hands came to rest on your shoulders and squeezed hard. "Watch and see what happens when you try to escape. Regardless of who it is, the result will always be the same for the person who helps you, I don't care if it's a child, an elderly person or even one of the strongest wizards in Twisted Wonderland . They will die and his blood is on your hands."

You dared to look away from the scene to your hands. No, you thought quickly, it definitely wasn't your fault. It was the fault of Azul's innocent smiles and sweet words that attracted you, it was the fault of the delicious desserts that Jade offered you after a tiring day and especially the friendship that Floyd offered, the way he protected you and made you laugh.

You were too innocent, you trusted too much.

And maybe, just maybe, if you had listened to the other students and walked away from them, you wouldn't be here. But you were everything they loved most; a change, a breath of new wind, something from another world. They would never get bored with you around and they wouldn't let you go now.

A hand squeezed your cheek hard enough to make you grunt and a pair of bicolored eyes came into view. It was Jade who, with his polite smile, pretended to sympathize with your situation. In other times, you would have thrown yourself into his arms and allowed yourself to tell him your whole heart. But now you held each word inside your mind as your teary eyes met his.

"You haven't even received your punishment yet and you're already crying, oh, what a disgrace." He smiled, wiping away your tears with his fingertips. He found your suffering obviously amusing and he didn't intend to hide it. If anything, he wanted more. He wanted you to scream and cry and fight, but he knew you wouldn't because you were afraid of the consequences.

And you were right to be afraid.

"We didn't know how else to communicate to you that we wouldn't do you any harm if you behaved," Jade walked away again and not being able to see him, even though you could hear the sound of him opening and closing a drawer at your back and his stifled giggles, made your palms sweat and your heart beat faster than ever. "So we had to be resourceful with your punishment, our dear pearl needs to learn that your actions have dire consequences."

Azul rested his face against your neck again and sniffed at your scent as if it were from another world—and it was. Because you were from another world and you had an addictive scent that made his cheeks flush, made him want to bite you until blood burst from your skin.

"It pains us to have to commit such barbarity," The cecaelia whispered gently in your ear. It seemed to pain him the next course of action the three of them had agreed to take, but you knew that tone of voice. You were perfectly aware of the soft way his timbre trembled so that his victim would believe his words more. You could still feel him smiling behind your back. "but it's exactly as Jade said. We must correct Your behavior, my dear."

Floyd laughed. A laugh even more evil than any you've ever heard and when you dared raise your eyes to the scene that would give you nightmares, you realized that the boy was no longer alive. A lot of blood flowed from his head and his eyes were forever scarred with an expression of terror and pain behind them. A death caused by you.

Because it's your fault, you repeated Azul's words. And his blood is on your hands.

You shook your head vehemently. It wasn't true and you couldn't allow yourself to think about it, but thinking and feeling it was difficult when tears started to fall from your eyes and sobs escaped your throat. Everything you had kept inside you was now slipping out of your eyes.

Azul promptly stared at your face with affection and carefully wiped your tears away. But the touch of his hands made you panic even more and you pressed your body harder against the chair to get away from his dirty touch. And he obviously leaned closer and closer until your bodies were close enough to make you feel suffocated. He loves to make you feel that way.

"Swallow that cry, angelfish." He murmured, licking a tear that rolled down your cheek like it was the finest liquor. "We still haven't given you a reason to cry."

You rubbed your eyes until they reddened, until the tears subsided, and you tried to control your breathing under the pressure of Azul's intimidating stare. Ignoring him couldn't be your best option so you tried to follow his order, even though you had every reason to cry and feel the way you did; they lied to you, kidnapped you and hurt a lot of people.

And now, you swallowed hard, now they've killed a boy. His parents would probably sit in their living room and wonder what had become of their beloved son. And it was your fault. Because he asked for help, involved him in this and it took his life.

"Ehehe, Azul, we're ready." Floyd announced humming. The eel was so excited for what was going to happen next that he was almost bouncing.

And suddenly a pungent smell hit you. A smell you may never forget now or a hundred years from now, the smell of flesh and blood mingling together. But the worst was yet to come.

Jade carried a plate of ground human meat. You didn't want to think about what that entailed and you didn't want to look at the boy's body to confirm your suspicions, just thinking about it made bile start to rise in your throat and make you dizzy. They wouldn't. Or would they?

"You know, little shrimp," Floyd got too close to you, stroking your face with his bloody hands and still, laughing when you tried to wipe the blood off your cheeks and ended up spreading it even more. You could see the fascination in his eyes. "Where we come from, it's common to eat your opponent to consume his essence."

Jade confirmed with a smile. "Exactly. And now, you will consume your victim's flesh and absorb all of its nutrients, especially the strength and endurance it had to withstand each of my brother's blows."

This must have been a nightmare. You felt pressure in your throat and thought you were about to throw up if things continued at this rate, eating human flesh was one of the things you never thought they'd force you to do - but then again, they weren't normal humans. They were merfolk.

You looked at Azul with a look flecked with tears and pleading, but he still had that same disconcerting smile on his face, like he loved every second of it. As if he had given the idea that it was ongoing at that moment. And a part of you knew that apologies wouldn't buy your forgiveness out of this situation, nor would any plan your agitated mind could form work.

The eels were brutal, it's true, but they were controlled by Azul. Their ringleader. And you knew at that moment that Azul had no intention of helping you, if anything he wanted you to eat human flesh and become like them, a monster. He wanted to make you think you weren't as good as you thought you were, that was his benevolence.

"Hey little shrimp, say ah!" Floyd moved far enough away to take a handful of human flesh in his hand. The scene turned your stomach in the same second. It was disgusting the way he kept smiling as if nothing unusual had happened, as if the blood staining his hands and the screaming were normal occurrences of his day that didn't disturb him in the slightest.

You dodged your face from all of Floyd's attempts to feed you that meat. You felt your whole body shiver at just the thought of that thing making contact with your mouth, the smell, the taste, everything made your head ache slightly.

"We were even nice and didn't grind him in front of you." Jade laughed.

Your wrists were bound against the arms of the chair and in that moment you struggled against the bonds. Within seconds it became obvious that running away was something you wouldn't have the pleasure of achieving again no matter how hard you tried. Azul's slender fingers trailed over your skin, raising terrible shivers down your back that made him laugh, and his hands closed over your chin forcing your mouth open.

In the end, no matter how much you struggled and fighted, Floyd fed you again and again and again. An eel should after all take good care of his shrimp and that's what e intended to do, even if you tried to scratch his arms or spit out the offered food. He had patience.

Patience because he knew you would love them.

Patience because he knew you would forgive them.

Patience because if he didn't, maybe he'd break your jaw like he broke that boy who tried to help you. Maybe that pain would help you remember your place.

"Ssh, please don't cry." Azul comforted you, rubbing your back and offering wet kisses over your neck. The gesture was comforting when the two of you had first started dating, filled with love and affection, but now it filled you with dread.

"Angelfish, now you're done eating should I suggest this?" Jade offered a gentle smile as he showed you your favorite dessert. But even the smell of dessert made your stomach turn.

At that point you weren't caring what they said or did. You just wanted to sleep and pretend none of that happened, but the lingering taste in your mouth forced you to remember what had happened. And that was something you wouldn't forget, ever. You looked at them. For someone who tells you they love you so much, they certainly only manage to exhaust you physically and mentally.

"They look tired, Azul." Floyd crouched down to your height and his hands were positioned on your shoulders as if he was going to shake you, but his brother stopped him with a shake of his head.

Shock or guilt seemed to shut down your brain and you felt your eyelids slowly close, watching as your three lovers as they like to call themselbes admired your sleepy expression. And you prayed to whatever deity was listening to you at that moment that when you woke up it would all just be a dream, a terrible dream.

[final-girl96]

Firefly Chapter Sixty

Yn

When I woke up again Ellie was gone. I quickly sat up and looked around the basement for her but she wasn't anywhere in sight. I sighed and swiped my hand down my face. My gaze found Joel's face. He was pale and clammy looking. I moved the blankets off him, unzipped his jacket, and pulled his shirt up. The wound was an angry red and a little warm to the touch, which told me it was infected. “Fuck.” I pulled his shirt back down, zipped his jacket back up, and threw the blankets over him again.

“I'll be right back. I need to go find Ellie and try to find you some antibiotics.” I kissed his forehead, his skin warmer than normal against my lips. When I went to pull away his hand cake up and grabbed onto my jacket. “Get back to Tommy. Take–take Ellie and go back to Tommy's.” I pushed his hand away and looked into his eyes that were barely open. “You're fucking delusional if you think I would just leave you here to die alone. Now shut up and rest, I'll be back soon.” I covered him up and hurried up the basement stairs.

I went through the house looking for Ellie. When I went into the garage, the horses had fresh buckets of snow, so I knew she couldn't have gotten far, and luckily for me, it would be easy to track her. I walked around the horses to open the garage door to see a note stuck to it. The paper was yellowed with ripped edges.

“Went to go hunt.”

I sighed and balled the paper up, throwing it on the ground. I wish she would have just woken me up to tell me that she was going to hunt. I pulled the garage door up enough to slip underneath, closing it behind me. I looked around and decided to just search the houses instead of going after Ellie. She was a smart kid and I figured I better start letting her take more responsibility. Better than fighting with her all the time. I remember being her age and wanting freedom. Of course, I wouldn't be giving her too much freedom. I was going to search a few houses and if she isn't back within the hour then I would go looking for her.

A lot of the houses were boarded up and the houses that I was able to get into didn't have much inside. I found a couple bandages and some rubbing alcohol, there wasn't much of it but it would be enough to at least clean the wound. I also found some sugar cubes, which would be great for the horses. I could give them a couple when I get back to the house. I looked through a few more houses but came up empty so I headed back to the house we were staying in. When I got back I gave the horse a couple sugar cubes and went down to the basement.

Ellie was there, kneeling beside Joel with a syringe in one hand and a vial of something else in the other. “What's that?” I asked. She jumped and turned to look at me. “Antibiotics,” she said, standing up and handing the vial to me. I turned it over and read the label. ‘penicillin’ “Where did you get this?” I asked her. She looked nervous and a little rattled. “Some guy. I was out hunting and shot a deer, but It ran off. I followed the blood trail to an old mill or factory, and there were two men there who found the deer before me. The one made a deal with me. They would give me antibiotics for half the deer.”

I looked around not seeing any deer or meat from one. “Where's the deer now?” I asked. She sighed and started to pace. “When the other guy went to get the medication we stayed back to wait for him. The man, I think he's the leader of his group, started a fire and we were talking. We had to fight a few runners off while we waited for his friend. When his friend came back and gave me the antibiotics I ran straight back here. But, yn…the guy Joel killed, he was part of their group.”

It didn't take long for those men to track Ellie. I had quickly given Joel a dose of the penicillin before forcing a knife in his hand. “Joel, I'm going to need you to listen to me.” I tapped his cheek until he opened his eyes slightly. “Those men from the university are here with more people. If someone comes down here you need to protect yourself. I won't let anything happen to Ellie. I love you.” I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips, then I was up the stairs. I pushed a cabinet in front of the door so it would take longer for someone to get to him if they found it.

Ellie was already getting the horses saddled. I didn't like the part of our plan to split up but it made the most sense. We could already hear voices growing closer. They had tracked Ellie back here and would find us in a matter of a minute. We had to drive them away from Joel and take them out. I opened the garage door and Ellie led the horses out so I could quietly close the door again. We both got on a horse, went over the plan and put it into action. She went one way and I went the other.

There were more men than I thought there would be. It didn't take too long for them to take both Ellie and I down. They shot the horses which was incredibly sad. Now Ellie and I sat in a cell in some building. The sign we passed said we were in some kind of resort or something. I was guessing it was a town that used to get a lot of tourists during this time of the year. They had brought us here and threw us in a cell. There was a wooden table by the door that looked like it was used to cut meat on.

“We need to get out of here,” Ellie whispered. “I know.” I looked at her and sighed, “Okay, I need you to listen. If they ask about Joel, you say nothing. Pretend he didn't make it.” Just as I finished my sentence the door opened and the guy Ellie dealt with while she was out hunting walked in with two trays of food. He slid them under the bars and smiled at us. “Thought you'd two be hungry.” There was no way in hell I was going to let Ellie touch that food. God only knows what they did to it.

[emmebearpaw]

This just in. At this rate I doubt I'm ever going to finish my OC smut fic so guess who's just going to post the unfinished thing instead of making it rot in my literal notes app forever. Anyways uh. Is it proof read. No. Did I stop, 1 paragraph into the actual make out scene. Anyways I guess it's context time. Which will be above the cut. Congrats it got too long I put it below cut. Because if you follow me I'm going to make you read about my little fuckers. I have more, I could make you read about all of them. You learn about 2. Fic will contain: vampirism, lead up to public sex (they were going to be fucking in the woods!). And also someone's first time writing smut. Please stick around. Also, the one comment I got on a very early version of some of this is that Atsuko doesn’t sound very interested. They are. I promise they are, they are just also a nerd who was initially hoping to not enter a state of brain shut down due to lack of blood because they wanted to write. This is not safe or sane but it is consensual.

Anyways let's start with the info they both share: They are both nebulous TTRPG OCs now, they have been dragged through about 5 universes (starting with an original universe that was very Shintoism inspired, hence the Japanese names) at this point but now they are in, some sort of DND-ish type fantasy world. No I am not playing them, I am not playing any TTRPGs because I don't have a group (like half my friends are in one but they don't need/want more players) and I have roleplay anxiety. Anyways, moving on to their individual Qualities. Atsuko (They/them): Elven wizard, likely Order of Scribes if talking DnD subclass. Approximate human age would be like, mid to late 20s? Maybe early 30s. Probably like, 5'9. They are really more of a researcher than a combatant but hey, magic is also a large interest of theirs and thus cast fireball. They have been working on creating as comprehensive an encyclopedia on religions as they can. They believe that in order to choose a religion, one should be able to compare the options, know what they believe, structure, holidays, symbols good and bad. They couldn't find one. They are on a fucking odyssey to decide if they are religious or not. Atsuko is interested in finding out if they are because their mother finds significant comfort in faith for dealing with the fucking bloodline curse the rest of the family is afflicted with. "Wait what bloodline curse" Watch me make up lore. Yeah so like, a portal to the feywild can be made anywhere the energy is right. This is usually places like, a forest, a hill, in a circle of mushrooms, etc. Fey also thrive best in these areas, hence why fey are not diffuse, but instead congregated around portals. Nothing stops people from having the correct energy(tm) make up to be a fey portal. However, the creation of a fey portal in a person (which occurs usually before age 1 ish when a person starts to gain a personality), usually results in their soul pulled through it the next time they sleep, which results in a small portion of SIDS cases throughout this magical world. Elves don't sleep. Which mean they often live. However, Elves with Portal-itis (i did not come up with a name) are still, you know, fucking Fey portals, and thus they are just in uh, elevated amounts of Fey danger for their entire lifespan. This usually results in them inevitably getting fucked over by a fey in the normal ways you've probably heard of (loss of their identity/soul, murder, the works). Yeah this is genetic. Congrats Atsuko's mother for being the one person in the family to dodge it. So Atsuko spent most of their childhood basically stuck inside of their mostly fey proofed house with their grandma and uncle. So that sucks. Anyways, Atsuko was bored out of their fucking mind, because like, you run out of books eventually, and managed to make themself a semi decent contract with a fey named Chiyo. In exchange for Atsuko giving Chiyo the life force energy they need to live (and like, regular food and shelter), Chiyo would help plug the portal, basically stake a claim on Atsuko so other fey don't bother. Other great features: been anemic for decades. yada yada eventually Atsuko started wandering. Anyways this was way longer than I intended. Look at Human!Atsuko, thanks picrew.

Chiyo: She/her: Fey, her class is fucking bite you I guess, she's active in combat but is not really a class. Because she's Atsuko's "familiar". Chiyo is uh, nebulous kind of fey. I don't know what she is, I made it up. She has various abilities, she can shapeshift, she needs to eat life force energy found in human bodily fluids, she has doll joints. She can also taste human emotions as flavor. This is her fey brain’s best way to understand emotion. I do have a lot of emotions mapped onto flavors for her (she describes Atsuko as tasting bad. Atsuko there tastes like blueberries and oregano). She usually is in the form of a fox somewhere between a red fox and fennec fox, or a human gijinka to anthro (yeah atsuko is a furry dw) of that form. Atsuko has been passing this fey off as their familiar for, so long, which is why she's usually a fox form. Anyways her backstory is she super got run out of the feywild for unclear reasons and basically had to make a deal or die. The two are now in a normal relationship: married and having sex but neither have the emotional intelligence to realize they are in love. I've never made a good depiction of Chiyo and her design has gotten harder to picrew so please close your eyes and imagine. A golden and white fox, turned into a slightly uncanny humanoid doll. Hollow, you can see strings in the joints. Can reduce the animal features, can not transform into a non-doll humanoid, the doll features will remain. This is my best picrew.

Anyways fic time --------------------------------------------

It was a few hours into night watch when Chiyo decided to begin the pacing. Hopping down from whatever person way blessed with the unlucky gift of the disguised fey deciding to make them their pillow for the night and just. Pacing. It was sort of fun in a way. Sitting by the fire. Watching her squirm. Enjoying a few more minutes of your lucidity before the hunger saw time take your feather right from your hands. If there wasn’t more reason to be thankful you didn’t have to sleep. Though you suppose you wouldn’t be in this mess if you did.

You’d be long dead after all. Taken by something else as its delicious reward.

Your false familiar whines as she licks your wrist. You may have chosen your beast but well. You don’t make a deal with a fey without a few concessions. Your head rushes as always as you quietly pace away from the low fire. Chiyo’s small paws scamper alongside you, racing you out of camp and into the night air.

You were barely 30 feet out of camp before the sounds of snapping were unbearable. You asked for her to transform before she fed off you, of course, but the noise. The noise the noise. If her bones weren’t already morphing you would break her bones for her. Crush them to dust and-

“You probably shouldn’t transform this close to everyone else. It’ll be a pain if they wake up.” Your mouth says without you. You are thinking of blood.

The fox-doll sniggered as her vocal cords reformed, and when the creature was satisfied teased: “What? Worried about your friends getting jealllouss??”

“I’m worried about us both getting blown up by whatever spell they decide to aim at the entity, covered in blood, pinning their acquaintance to a tree.”

“You’re no fun”

“And yet you’re the one who led me out of camp instead of just pouncing.”

“Because I respect your taste” A bone snaps into a new place. The spine was always loud. “Even if I think it would be more exciting if it wasn’t just u-“

“Breach of contract.” You take off your coat. The night air is cold against your exposed neck.

“Yeah okay okayyyyy. I get it. No feeding on anyone else. But what if they just wat-“

“Are you hungry or not?” You press your back against a steady tree and sit, in case you feel unsteady in the minutes to come.

You looked down at what was once your false fox, body shifted and morphed into a bipedal form. Her fangs still as sharp as ever, and ears just as big and yet. Well, there was certainly a reason you advised her to not take humanoid form in town. The holes in her joints were obvious, revealing the long spindly strings that seemed to make up her insides. Allowed her segmented fingers to reach up and brush the hair away from your mouth, lingering just a moment to long as she looked up to you. Face close enough you could smell the sweetness of her breath.

“May I bite you now?” She asked. You knew she had to. You tried to play with it once. See when your loyal companion would pounce without command.

Well trained dogs need a reason to— “bite me”.

The “t” had hardly graced your lips before she latched to your neck like a wolf after its prey.

The first wave of blood to leave your veins always made your head spin the most. It wasn’t as if you ever did anything to dull the pain and Chiyo’s teeth were just as sharp as she always kept them.

Your head was definitely pounding more than normal tonight though. You panted, breathing in the smell of your iron before asking, “Are you charming me again?”

If she had ever bothered to answer that, you had never been conscious enough to hear her response to that question.

The facsimile gasped for air. Its pale velvet face sullied by the dribbling blood as you winced once more. Neck raw and warm and wet and—

She had definitely charmed you. Your heart was pounding as your blood ran thin once again. With a moan— a sigh, with a sigh you close your eyes. This was moving frankly too fast. As much as the thought of her excited you, now wasn’t the time. New thought, new thought… ah yes. You were working on compiling your notes before this. You had managed to sample various common foods eaten during the autumn lunar festival of—

Her hands running along your back snapped you out of a thought on the ceremonial purpose of spiced rice dough. Fangs dislodging for a moment as she looked you in the eyes to state, “Stop thinking about lunar cycles or whatever. You taste like shit.”

“I’m thinking about the symbolism of colors in the dough from the other day actually.”

The doll laughed at you, joints creaking ever so slightly as she separates from you, “Fascinating topic. You can tell me all about it after I’m finished sucking you dry?”

A slight “Mmm…” was your form of a whine as her heat left the crook of your neck, once your brain managed to find words once more you responded: “Don’t eat too much again, please?” A please is polite. A please can help to paper over the shudder in your body as she reaches forward to collect a drop of blood from your neck with those fingers.

“But I’m still hungryyyy” she whined. Eyes seemingly warbling. “You would deny your loyal companion a full meal? Hmm. What would we call that? Ohh, right. A breach, of, con-tract.” Her fingers walked across, dancing around the sensitive spot as you two had done so many times before.

“I wasn’t saying you can’t eat more. I was trying to tell you that you could have a bit more? I’m just—” You shake your head, just skip to the explanation rather than the correction. “I need to be able to stand up without falling this time.”

“Well. I think I’m hungrier than just a little more.” Your face is so warm. “If you want my little ol’ stomach filled without me drinking more… we can always—“ She flicks her tongue. If only if only if only-

“They’d hear us you know.” You two were, what, 60 feet from camp? As much as you felt the air get ever colder against your warmer, warmer, warmer skin… “We can try and find a better spot.” You proposed. Surely there had to be another spot than the one you scouted while gathering firewood, further away, line of sight.

“So the only reason we can’t have fun is your worried about screaming?”

…when she put it like that…

“I— yes? That’s the only concern. Really we can just move and—“ you were scooped up by the arms by your small fox, her shiny porcelain skin scratching against the tree as she dragged you to your feet against it. You looked down to your Chiyo, running your fingers along the fur of her ears to keep your mind off the snap and stretch of the bones you were sat upon.

The fox licked her lips as the leg you sat upon seemed to settle, morphed to allow you to straddle it comfortably and yet… from this distance you could see all the tiny joints that ran through her face, your finger fluttering through her hair as you lean into the moment.

Then you blink. “I thought you wanted to have sex?” You vaguely gesture at, the both of you. You were both as clothed as you normally were (which, admittedly for Chiyo was rather sparse due to the whole shape shifting thing), and, well, “Figured you were going to eat me out.”

She shifted closer, pinning you against the tree as her lips nearly brushed against yours, her sudden motion pressing against

She shifted closer, moving away from your grasp on her with a slight roll of the hip, her knee pressing up into you as you respond with a simple “Ohh-hh”

She snickered at the way your breath hitched with so little, “Awww, we’ve barely even started and you’re already making noise…” she trailed off, pulling at the waist of your trousers with an inquisitive look before asking “I thought you said we couldn’t have sex unless it was quiet. Besides, how am I gonna stop you from waking everyone up if I’m down there?”

You sighed as you rose to your toes to pull your pants off, shuffling them off one leg at a time in the downbeat. Your heart pounding as it tried to get your head the blood enough blood to not tip over as you pulled the second leg off. An arm quickly grabbed at you, as if she was jealous the earth may try to claim your lust before she could if you fell. You fumbled for a moment, words stuck on your tongue, and yet, before you could even form the words she answered, “I can always charm you to keep you upright too, if that’s what that silly lil brain of yours is trying to ask.”

(Eyes sparkle with a “holy shit I love you” sort of energy)

“I thought you already charmed me?”

She laughs at you. “I knew you were into it but, sheesh, you got wet so fast you thought it was magic?” Try to retort, she presses a finger to your lips and asks if you want her to charm you, you say not immediately but yes. “Can I kiss you?” You nod and she once again launches forward and suck suck

————— Chiyo told you once that the taste in her mouth was similar to a “blue berry”. The sweet tinge of her tongue mixing with yours. The sour that mixed in as she nipped on your lip before stopping your squeak with her tongue once more.

[blazingphantom]

Wendell & Wild oneshot

Summary: Siobhan and Raul re-build their relationship.

Raul leisurely moseyed down the landing, himself donned in a plain grey hoodie and trainers. Heading over to a specific dorm. Wrapping his knuckles on the oak door and waiting patiently for a response.

It's alright Raul, just be chill. This is Siobahn.

Yeah, Siobhan. The one who didn't necessarily like him after he dropped out of her 'prize poodle' group. Or maybe it was because she didn't like him after his early transition. He knew some other stuff had happened between them. But it was so long ago, he forgot. Raul just wanted to forget, to start anew.

However, he didn't really care. Not anymore at least.

It was a new age in Rustbank- and with that came new friendships.

Raul wasn't the one to hold grudges, it just wasn't in his blood. He wasn't a hateful nor angry kid either.

The doorknob rattled and he was instantly pulled out of his thoughts. Eyes snapping up to meet Siobhan, who was wearing an anxious smile.

His eyes widened with surprise.

She was different, she looked different. No longer sporting straightened hair (which Raul had a suspicion was forced like that by her mother).

But now her locks were intricately styled in thick cornrows, that rested idly over her shoulder. A light pink sweater fitted on her, donning light blue jeans and black converse shoes. Gabby Goat nestled in her arms comfortably, looking up at Raul and bleating almost as if she's saying 'hello'. "Wow, you look-" Raul sheepishly spoke up, eyes meeting hers. "Different?" Siobhan quips curiously, her smile becoming more confident. "Yeah, I guess so. Kat did my hair earlier." She informs Raul; who's still gawking at her.

It was all so sudden, really.

"It's nice, it suits you." Raul murmurs politely, his own shy smile now visible on his face. Okay this is it, time to go out and just chat. "You want too-" He trails off, outstretching a hand. Raul remembers the time when they were young kids, always holding each other's hands as they ran around the playpark or just anywhere really.

Hesitation flickers in Siobhan's eyes, hand reaching for his, halting momentarily before clutching it. "Yes," she nods her head firmly, grinning reassuringly. The two begin to trail off down the landing, descending down the steps. Only to be stopped by a taller figure. Raul and Siobhan looked up to see it was Kat- looking rather suspiciously at the blonde girl. "You better be good to him, you hear?" Kat points a finger at Siobhan, indicating Raul with her eyes, eyebrows are formed into a frown. But her voice isn't nearly as threatening as it was when they first met. Siobahn truthfully found Kat a bit scary at times. But that fear was mostly overshadowed by the want of being her friend. And luckily for her- the green-haired girl was slowly opening up. "I will, KayKay." She bows her head dutifully and is a bit surprised that the nickname doesn't get an irritated rise out of her. "Good." Kat folds her arms over her chest, studying the two over for a brief moment. "Oh, by the way. Stop at Colette's cafe- they have seriously good hot chocolate." She leans in and informs them with a murmur, her lips breaking into an amiable smile. "Been there with Wendell and Wild- they loved it." The two grin knowingly. "Will do." Raul smiles and looks to Siobhan who in return smiles back. Kat steps aside and watches the two as they head for the large oak doors. ------------------------ Kat was right. The hot chocolate was amazing. The cafe itself was nice and cozy. It wasn't too busy either, so that was a bonus. And they even had Siobhan's and Raul's favorite- blueberries muffins and chocolate muffins! The two had sat down in the far corner near the window. At first the chatting was small- and rather awkward. But as time drifted on- she loosened up and felt more at ease. After their little rest, they left Colette's Cafe and trekked down the bustling streets. Following a path that led into a field- a playground noticeable in the far distance. Raul still cupping his hot chocolate, talking to Siobhan about his upcoming art projects with joy her listening on with intrigue. Siobhan missed this, missed them. Just talking and hanging out. But remaining guilt hung over her head like a bad omen. And it mostly distracted her, always finding herself being asked if she was okay by the boy. Raul opened the gate into the playpark and stepped in. It was fairly empty- save from the group of young kids playing on the slide and swings. "I remember going here!" Siobhan almost squealed with delight, and oo'ed. Nostalgia flooding her like a warm hug, the place hadn't changed a bit. It even had that silver birch tree that she oddly liked as a 8-year-old. "Me too!" Raul emitted a laugh and ran over to a bench, waving Siobhan over with a contented expression. Once seated the two delved into a comfortable silence. The crisp autumn air billowing in their faces. Just enjoying the tranquil atmosphere and each other's company. "This is nice." Raul hums out, breaking the quiet. Siobhan looks over slightly confused.

Raul catches her gaze and swallows awkwardly. "I mean uh.. yknow since it's been a while." Her gaze instantly alights with acknowledgment. Creases appearing in her cheeks as she smiles. "Yes, it has." Siobhan's attention drifting off to the monkey bars, staring at the rusted yellow paint. "I missed it." Raul perks up at that, glancing over at her. "Missed it?" He echoes gently, wondering if she was upset. He didn't want her to be, he hated it when people were upset. Siobhan nods her expression becoming more solemn and less cheerful. "I missed you, Ram- Raul." Muttering too herself angrily, looking away guiltily. His eyes soften sympathetically, setting down his cup of hot chocolate on the floor, reaching over and squeezing her hand reassuringly. "Hey, it's alright Siobhan. Don't beat yourself up over it." "It's just-" "Hard to remember?" ".... Yeah." Siobhan sniffs and reluctantly meets his gaze. He isn't angry, nor upset. He's just- watching her with warm, kind eyes. It's so surreal to her. That they were finally talking again, actually bonding and getting closer after almost 3 years of ignoring each other. Or maybe- Siobhan was the one doing the avoiding and ignoring, but still. She couldn't deal with this guilt, she was experiencing. "Raul, I'm really sorry about all the mean stuff I did-" "It's alright Siobhan." Raul reminds her gingerly. "I really don't care about it." Siobhan stares at him for a long moment, trying to scope out any hidden emotions behind his expression or eyes. But- he's being truthful. Almost. "Well..." He swallows a bit uncomfortably, "I won't lie. It kind of did- hurt me. How we were best friends- but then we just... drifted apart." Raul shrugs his shoulders, taking a long sip of his drink. Siobhan doesn't say anything for a long moment, wringing with her hands nervously. "I really was a prick, wasn't I?" Her tone is noticeably sad and dreary. Now it's Raul's turn to be quiet, processing what she had said thoroughly. He didn't want to admit it, but at the same time. It was true in a way. "I won't lie, you were mean. But not as mean as others have been to me." Raul explains to her, resting a consoling palm on her shoulder. It was true. The other girls in RBC were ten times more awful. Raul had nobody to help him. Not even Siobhan, who somedays wished desperately she'd break away from her other friends and help him. "And plus, you apologized and that's all I wanted to hear." His lips quirk upwards into a gentle smile. Siobhan elevates her gaze and meets his. "I still feel guilty." Raul nods with understanding, scooting closer to her along the bench. "You will... for some time, it's only natural." He utters. "Did you ever... hate me?" Siobhan asks him, appearing alarmingly serious. Yet Raul can see the melancholy in her turquoise gaze. "No." He responds genuinely, "I could never hate you, Siobhan." Siobhan is silent again and Raul begins to worry he had done something to accidently upset her. She shuffles closer, before wrapping her arms around Raul, embracing him tightly. Raul's eyes widen with surprise. This was unexpected. But he knew, somehow. This is what she needed, a hug. Raul brought his own arms around her back, hugging her comfortingly. This is what Raul needed as well. The two sit in silence. Just embracing each other tightly- as if their lives depended on it. As if their separate lives would rip them apart and whisk them away. It happened before. And some part of them was worried, it'd occur again. "I really missed you, Raul." Siobhan is the first to break the silence again. Her voice so tiny and guilt-ridden. All this time, she had really forgotten how much he meant to her. "I did too, Siobhan." Raul sighs softly, chin resting on her shoulder. Before pulling away slowly, hand still clutching hers with consolation.

They watch each other for a moment. Taking in each other. Raul looks so different too her. Yet, familiar? It warms her heart. Raul thinks the same thing. In a way Siobhan is different too, her personality is still sweet and amiable. Yet her appearance? Is the most different. It makes him smile. She's finally the true her, just like Raul can be the true him.

"It!" Siobhan suddenly chirps and taps Raul on the shoulder, jumping to her feet and darting over to the red painted fence. Raul is startled out his thoughts, and smirks. "No fair!" He initially complains, "c'mere!" Getting up from his seat, beginning to chase her around the playground. Ducking and weaving through the swings and slides. Raul missed this. The nostalgic memories come flooding in. He remembers chasing her through this very park at the tender age of 6. With his mother watching off to the side carefully. How they always laughed and enjoyed each other's company. Making friendship bracelets and telling each other little secrets. Change was upon Rustbank. And it had started with Siobahn and Raul. Becoming life-long friends once more. It made Raul want to cry happy tears; it filled him with the happiest emotions.

[drama-rebellion]

Wallflowers

(A short-story about two girls meeting on a not so superficial night…)

Tarja hated this place. Every bit of it. She wished she would never had given in to her mum’s urging of going out and meeting people of her age. What a stupid idea.

The big hall was nauseating. Those rich young people in suits and dresses, who picky nibbled at cheese-grape spikes and savoured their glasses of two hundred-dollar champagne, while they were swaying to the live music of a gruesome jazz band. And these boring, lifeless beige walls with red curtains that guarded the black windows… tasteless!

Tarja stood near the entrance without a move, watching the crowd disgusted. Maybe if she left fast now, nobody would miss her, but right in that moment, her date showed up beside her and Tarja felt the strong urge to bang her head against a wall. Instead she forced a smile towards this average guy from the neighbourhood whom her mother had chosen her to go out with. Absolutely ridiculous and embarrassing beyond words, but obviously her mum didn’t mind to force her into the next Stone Age! At least this guy wasn’t much thrilled to be here either.

“Ehm yeah…” he started uneasy, “well, I’m sorry you have to be here with me. My mum told me it would be good for me and she insisted on it. It wasn’t mine idea, really…”

Tarja just smiled again.

“It’s okay. I think it’s the best we don’t mention it to our parents and, ehm…” she pressed her lips together for a second and gave him a kinda excusing and pitying look.

“… let’s just go different ways, yeah?” she suggested and the boy nodded relieved.

“Good idea”, he spilled out and quickly revoked from her peeved presence.

Tarja was left behind in her dark green, golden dress with this small glittering bag in her hand and a head full of thoughts she was unable to shut out. Couples kept passing her by entering the hall, laughing, talking and entertaining themselves. Tarja felt like the only one in a huge group who didn’t get the joke everybody was laughing about. With a deep sigh she looked at her watch. It was barely ten. If she returned home now, her mum would assail her with questions and she wasn’t ready yet to go through more judgment and endless discussions with her parents.

But what to do now? Definitely not staying at this revolting party.

“Wanna go somewhere else?” a female voice suddenly asked and Tarja turned around.

A woman stood at one of the bar tables. She had pinned her long brown curls up and only few strands of hair covered her shoulders. She wore a black dress with a corset and a black leather jacket over it. All in all she seemed even more displaced than Tarja.

“What do you mean?” she asked interested and hesitantly walked closer. The stranger made an explaining hand gesture towards the hall.

“You can impossibly want to stay here”, she said like it was the most logic thing in the world. And it probably was. Laughing Tarja shook her head and her black hair fell into her face.

“Oh no, definitely not. I’d rather be anywhere but here”

“Good. So you will come with me?” the woman asked with a promising sparkle in her brown eyes.

“Where?”

“To a place which is much more fun”. Sly smile.

Tarja knew that she shouldn’t go. It was too risky and dangerous. Who knew who this woman really was after all?

“What is your name?” she asked curiously.

“Sharon”

The sound of her name had something mysterious what increased Tarja’s curiosity even more.

Nervously Tarja bit her lip to keep herself from blushing. She failed brilliantly.

“And with who do I have the honour to talk with ?”

The heat in Tarja’s cheeks got even worse.

“I’m Tarja”, she mumbled.

They shook hands. It felt strange, but that’s what you do when you meet new people, right?

“So, why do you come here when you actually hate it?” Sharon asked and slowly the conversation lost its stuffiness and tension.

“My mum got me a date”.

Sharon’s beautiful lips formed into a teasing smile.

“Your mum got you a date? Seriously?”

Tarja blushed again and laughed forcefully.

“Yeah, I know it’s embarrassing” then she changed the subject.

“Why are you here?”

“The champagne is good”, the woman answered with a grin and emptied her glass.

“But enough smalltalk. We shouldn’t waste more time here, don’t you think?”

The jazz band was just about to start raping another innocent song.

“Yes definitely”

On the way to the exit Sharon walked by the buffet, grabbed a bottle of champagne and stowed it in her handbag. Another few seconds they pushed themselves through the people coming towards them, before they finally breathed in the cold night air.

Without asking Sharon suddenly took Tarja’s hand and gently pulled her further away from the crowd at the sidewalk. The warmth of the touch felt strangely familiar. Tarja looked at the other girl astonished and time slowed down, only to let Tarja appreciate this moment of charm. Sharon lifted her hand and a by driving taxi hit the breaks to pick up the two women. With their cheeks burning from the cold, the girls got on the back seat.

“I don’t have much money with me”, Tarja whispered concerned to Sharon, but she shook her head disdainful.

“I have enough money”, she reassured her and then told the driver the address.

They hit the road and with a fizzle the champagne got opened.

“Here, taste the wasteful sparkling water”, Sharon said sarcastically and handed her the bottle. Tarja took some deep sips and the pleasant mild liquid ran down her throat. A light melancholy started to fill her up when she turned her head and watched the crazy coloured lights passing by behind the window. Sometimes she caught a glance at the people in the other cars and a smile played around her lips when she saw some of their expressions, grim faces or upset lip movements when the traffic slowed them down.

Tarja couldn’t say how long they had been driving and at some point she was surprised that Sharon didn’t try to keep up an superficial conversation about where she came from or what she did all day and other boring, normal stuff people just ask you when they aren’t interested or uncomfortable in your presence.

But Sharon just looked outside the window herself, sometimes took a sip of the stolen champagne and time to time Tarja glanced over to her, only to look at her mesmerizing face. Her thoughts wandered aimlessly like they didn’t know where to go next. Actually she was glad the car stopped, before her thoughts could get lost in the darker parts of her mind…

Sharon got out, paid the cap driver and the next moment the two women stood alone in front of a rusty rear entrance. While looking at this obviously neglected door, Tarja asked herself uneasy, if she wouldn’t have been doing better by enduring the discussion with her mum.

A man like a bull guarded the door, dressed in a suit and his hands folded behind his back. Unimpressed Sharon walked towards him, took out a kind of ID from her handbag and passed him without even getting a second look. Tarja followed her insecure through the door and it was like she had just entered the secret portal to Narnia or something. This was no noble club, but no total sinkhole either. It was something comfortably in between, something you could trust on without feeling doubtful.

Still Tarja clung on Sharon like they were Siamese twins.

Deep bass music sounded through the strange club which was parted in sections, just like compartments somehow but different, in a way that didn’t lock you away from anyone, but still granted you enough privacy to have a normal conversation.

Tarja followed her host through half of the club, passing some drunk dancers and stoned people laying on sofas, until they reached that one special corner at the right side. Three girls and two boys sat there, absorbed in a carefree conversation. When Sharon let herself slump down on the black sofa they looked up.

“Hey! I already thought you wouldn’t show up at all!” one of the girls said and hugged Sharon friendly.

“Yeah, it took longer than I thought”, she explained annoyed but then she turned her head and pointed at the still standing Tarja, who obviously felt pretty uncomfortable.

“Oh, this is Tarja by the way. I saved her from that creepy party and brought her here.”

She expected some distant greetings or forced smiles, but instead all of them really bothered to get up and hug her shortly.

“Nice to meet ya!”

Perplex and confused she accepted it and let herself sink down next to Sharon.

“Let me introduce”, she started.

“This is our charming Charlotte”, the red haired woman smiled brightly.

“Above all enthusiastic Robert” one of the guys gave her a nod.

“Amy. She’s a demon, just to warn ya” the girl next to him with incredibly long black hair showed a greeting smile.

“Ruud” the boy raised his fist in the air, “hell yeah!”

Everyone laughed.

“He’s a true chaotic, just ignore it”, Sharon explained smiling while pointing at the last of the three women.

“And that is Lzzy. The walking energy bomb.”

Ruud pointed back at Sharon.

“And last but not least, our heart and soul, our lovely Sharon!”

Sharon smiled and thanked him with a nod.

Slowly Tarja’s insecurity faded as she looked at all those nice and welcoming faces. They were so different from those people she had met before.

“I’m happy to meet you all”, Tarja said honestly and the next second she got already buried in questions. Everyone seemed to be interested in her and that already was a fact in totally unknown territory for Tarja. She had grown up in a wealthy family with a name which got her access to everything and everyone; she went to private school and now, to her own decision, finally to a public college that would start in two months.

I felt good to speak with those people. Normal people. People who stood up every morning trying to handle their lives somehow, not knowing about the next week, or month or year, just living from one second to the next, trying to make the best out of it. There wasn’t much expected of them and still they could give so much more.

They talked and even though Tarja liked all of them and loved to chat with them, her eyes always ended up resting on Sharon, who sat next to her, preoccupied with conversations.

But Tarja didn’t mind. She just watched her, how her lips moved, the expressions on her face, how they went along with her words. She was fascinated by the way Sharon’s clothes moved while speaking, how her hands made supporting gestures and her bright laugh that lightened up the atmosphere.

Tarja just couldn’t stop looking at this incredible human being, astonished and overwhelmed.

The music wasn’t intrusive and the questions not too personal, but despite all the comfort she felt around those wonderful people, she noticed the panic dangerously crawling up her chest. Dryly she swallowed, trying to fight it, but it was no use. Somehow the company and questions released the dark part in her and the loneliness that dwelled there.

Hastily Tarja got up from the sofa.

“Where’s the restroom?” she asked with shallow voice. Everyone went quiet, detecting something was wrong and carefully Amy pointed to the left backside of the club.

“To the corner and then the first door on the left”, she said silently.

“Thanks”, Tarja gasped.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine…” she stuttered, “Just nauseous”

Without any further explanation she rushed towards the rescuing door. Heavily breathing she entered the small and graffiti daubed restroom and propped her hands up on the sink.

Tarja looked up. A person was facing her in the mirror. Green pupils, high cheekbones, messy hair and outworn make up. The lips of the woman trembled, her eyes stared dead at her.

Minutes past before Tarja distantly grabbed her handbag and was already about to fix her face, but then she suddenly felt the unreality hitting her. Her hands felt like they didn’t belong to her, her legs seemed to give in and her head was about to explode. The vision of a red painted canvas crossed her inner eye, with splashes of dreams and hopes, irrevocable wasted and not ever to be taken back. Lost forever.

Tarja held her face under the stream of cold water and felt how the liquid covered every cell, every inch, replaced every thought, and it felt good. Relieving.

With a deep gasp Tarja straightened up and dried her face. She looked horrible now, due the messed up make-up but she fixed it within minutes and even she looked like nothing ever happened now, she was unable to move. She just stared into the mirror.

After a while she heard the door opening.

“What are you doing?” Sharon asked carefully. Tarja didn’t resolve the look from the creature in the mirror.

“Looking at her”, she whispered.

The mouth made her the saddest, next to her dead eyes. There was a dark line between the lips in the outline of several waves in a turbulent storm. It said don’t kiss me, don’t fool me. She was dancer who couldn’t dance…

Tarja turned around to Sharon, faced her with that mask she was trained to put on. This mask that prevented her from getting hurt, getting too attached and dependent. She looked intensely at this woman, the woman who had lead her away from a party into a hurricane of feelings, emotions and memories, good and bad ones, and even now Tarja was unable to say if she regretted it or not.

Sharon put a hand on Tarja’s shoulder. The touch brought the frozen statue back to life and Tarja lifted her head, with pale skin and her green eyes gone dull.

“I’m fine”, she said, but her voice sounded like plastic.

“Sure you are”, Sharon stepped even closer, now putting her other hand on her shoulder as well.

“You don’t have to hide anything from me” she said gently and something in her voice just reached out, embraced Tarja’s soul and whispered calming words to her, promised her that everything, eventually, would be okay.

“I know. I…” Tarja was close to lose control again.

“I just can’t talk about it right now”, she pressed out and lowered her eyes.

“That’s okay. Just keep in mind that you aren’t alone”, she gave her an encouraging smile.

“Shall we go back to the party now?”

Tarja nodded.

When they crossed the wide room on the way back, it felt like she was enclosed by dark water, which made all her steps slow and heavy, drained out all the noise and pressed the air out of her lungs.

Like in trance she sat down next to the others, these nice and caring people who tried their best and fought against the cruelty and superficiality of the world, but yet again got drowned in everything that didn’t matter. Even it did matter for them.

Tarja fell in love with them. Sharon, Amy, Ruud, Robert, Lzzy, Charlotte… all of them. But especially Sharon. She hadn’t mentioned the incident at the toilet and she was grateful for that. But anyway this woman just seemed so carefree, like she had figured out life, its meaning and reasons and everything what laid beyond. She could say anything and Tarja would believe it.

The whole evening the small group of these weird people who didn’t fit into society, spoke about everything and nothing at all and everyone was fine with it. At some point, whenever it happened, Sharon and Tarja looked at each other and bend over for a kiss. It wasn’t certain if it was spontaneous or planned, due the alcohol or just random. But Tarja enjoyed the feeling of the soft lips on hers for a second and of course nobody said anything. Nobody cared who loved anyone, because most people at this place didn’t know true love at all.

“Are you okay?” Sharon asked silently and if she hadn’t been only an inch away from her face, Tarja probably wouldn’t have understood her due the music.

“No. Are you?”

The other woman smiled ironically and shook her head.

“No…” she took Tarja’s hand and gently stroked over it.

“I like your friends”, Tarja changed the subject after a while and Sharon laughed.

“Oh yes, they’re really cool! I’m glad you like them”

But the passion in her voice was gone. Instead it got replaced by a distant sorrow, like someone just reminded her that everything, no matter how great or bad, was just temporary.

“Maybe I should go home now…” Tarja slowly said and somehow felt guilty for it. Sharon withdrew her hand from her hold.

“Yeah”

“Can I have your number?” Tarja asked, not willing to give all of this up already. Sharon smiled and pulled out her phone.

“Sure”

They exchanged numbers and it felt good, but the second Tarja got up and headed for the door, she felt the strong urge to go back and sit with those people forever. Just feel life, joy, hope and the will to live. Just all the feelings the night and people were able to give you.

But then Tarja left the club, breathed in the cold night air and felt the depression taking over her body, worse than ever before, while she waited for a taxi to take her home…

[nitroish]

nobody asked but i will still provide, of course ! here is the beginning of a doc i have been working on for ages now - a doc of which features quirks' warriors and my own legend, and their being in a qpr !! that subject is not actually touched on in this bit, but it does feature in later writing and i deem it important you know that that is where they stand.

this is the start of the first installment for the doc ; enjoy !

--

sweat pools around his neck and falls down the back of his shirt, earning a grimace as it rolls over his too-warm skin and adds to the pool soaked into the fabric. the sun burns above and spits heat and light down onto the field himself and the others had taken over last night for a temporary camp. he stops correcting his feet, ignoring the demanding question of why he'd stopped, to drag a finger between his tank's collar and his wet skin. he tilts his head up towards the clear blue above and scowls at it while his fingers peel away from his skin and shirt, damp with sweat. he sounds off a disgusted noise as he wipes his hand down over the tunic fabric covering his hip, wrinkles his nose at the warm feeling of the sweat-soaked fabric of the undershirt on his skin shifting with him.

the sun was close to unbearable today. the group isn’t near anywhere recognizable that would be the root cause of this kind of heat either, like eldin, or death mountain. he thinks it's rather dumb, actually, that places can simply get this hot on their own. instead of the heat coming from someplace it would at least make sense for it to be, they are standing in some wide and unknown open plains area. an area that, if his eyes are to be believed, legend is completely certain holds a very obnoxious lack of lava or on-fire mountain that you can’t look at without the heat waves warping your vision and sending you stumbling like an idiot.

it was, simply put, just fucking hot outside. and for what.

legend was only slightly sure it was just that much worse because of the constant activity they were taking part in - the training the damned knight had forced them all into was something to behold. he isn’t too sure when the knight first roused him for the ‘group activity’, but legend had initially turned over and refused to partake when he’d seen that the sun was barely peeking from the ground. of course the knight hadn’t let him get away with it - he’s standing here with his sword in hand for a reason - but he was not entirely excited to be roused from his bedroll without having gotten any sleep.

he scratches behind his ear as he idly thinks, and his face scrunches up in disgust at the feeling of his nails scraping over sweat and strands of hair that have stuck to his skin there. ugh.

[burtonbabygirlguster]

how comfortable i would feel with different stranger things characters

Argyle

8/10

he would be 10/10 but i’d be scared he’d mention what i’ve told him when he was high

i’ve got no idea if being high works like that tho???

but i’d be panicking very hard

like he’s probably use my preferred name instead of my deadname and i’d be like 🧍

would offer me weed to help with my skin picking problems or my mouth pain

fuck you braces and nails

Robin

10/10

we can ramble to each other :)

my best moments with my friends is of us rambling to each-other and getting off topic every other sentence

she’s very funny we could laugh about anything it’d be great

and i’m also queer so like..yeah, gay people flock together type shit

Eddie

6.5/10

the cafeteria scene scared me, i’d constantly think he’s about to..like..jump on my sandwich

also he’s too extroverted for me im sorry

i can’t handle that type of attention anywhere near me

he’d probably look at what i was drawing or something and show everyone 🧍

and i’ve got too much anxiety for that soooo…

Steve

7.5/10

i can’t really explain in

like, yes, i’d be comfortable, but constantly tense, expecting something, at the same time

like i said, can’t really explain it, sorry lmfao

Jonathan

13/10

would make me feel good about myself

between my fashion, music, general interests, being trans and gay, i’d be the Hawkins high punching bag

i already was at my middle school some? like nothing physical but constant shit, it was this group of kids constantly coming over to the tree i hung by and shouting slurs and jesus blah blah

plus the usual barking and being called emo in the halls

anyway

he could tell when i’m about to have a breakdown, whatever i’m feeling honestly

the only person i think i’d EVER be comfortable sharing how i actually feel with

he would never judge me

i think he’d like my stupidity and chaos, i usually get really insecure about it but he’d be nice :))

the only way i can interact with a movie/show is to vocally talk about it and my family (reasonably) gets mad but i think he’d enjoy hearing what i think and how i perceive whatever we’d be watching

even outside of movies, they don’t really like hearing me ramble or talk

and if one person did like it, another one would interrupt and they’d forget about me

even my general family issues, he’d be there to listen, and relate on a lot

i also love photography so we could have fun with that!!!

overall he’d be the biggest comfort ever

Nancy

2/10

i’m sorry but i wouldn’t be all that comfortable

i think the biggest thing was how she treated robin

and since i act like robin with the rambling and such, i really think she would not like me

opposite of Jonathan

she’d only get annoyed and i feel like she’d just act like my family when it comes to how i express myself, and would make me feel like shit

maybe she’d actually be really cool once i got to know her

but everything that the shows given me is her pushing away barb, the love triangle, being rude to robin, and supernatural stress, so not quite sure :p

Jason

-3/10

i don’t even need to explain

i would be called slurs and beat up

he was ready to break Gareths fingers

which i guess me just being casual vs him hunting a guy are definitely different situations

but i feel like he’d break something

i’d definitely be a suspect of joint murder forces with eddie lmfao

Billy

-3/10

same thing with jason

but pretty sure he’d also body-shame me

unless if we were around people

but still -3/10

Will

12/10

Same thing as Jonathan

but i’m closer to wills age so i think it’d be better :)

plus he at least used to play with legos and i fucking love legos

also we could draw DnD characters together!!

he’s gonna love my literal dragonborn himbo that wears sunglasses

i’d love to be in a byers-hopper family campaign with him :))

gays flock together again

Lucas

11/10

he’s super duper fucking nice and would always be considerate of everything

would not judge me

except in a funny way

he could help me out if i ever had relationship issues

he can climb trees i think? i feel like he climbed one in season one or two

if he can, i’d love to go tree climbing with him

i used to play basketball so we could play together!!

he’s awesome

Dustin

8/10

i can’t really explain why he’s only 8

i would, however, love to go and open curiosity doors and do random shit

i’m gonna train demodogs with him

would love to tease steve with him

El

8/10

nothing really special, just chill :)

again, would love to do a whole family campaign

i’d like making fun presentations with her like she did for the school project

would enjoy doing stuff like how she and max did, i love clothes shopping, because i can express myself- and that was the whole point for her clothes shopping!

i’d absolutely love to do that with her :))

Max

7.3/10

would maybe make fun of me a little bit?

sometimes in a funny friend way but sometimes in an actual way

i don’t think i’d be able to tell which is which so i’d be sad each time🧍

would love being chaotic with her and torturing mike (i’m sorry mike)

pulling pranks on everyone definitely

Mike

depends which season

1-2 is 10/10

3-4 is slowly declining…

i’m very childish (although i am a child so doesn’t really count) and i love doing thing how will does, and i’d too, be asking to play

would feel the worst feeling if he ever yelled at me like he did to will :(

although that’s on byler drama, so he wouldn’t yell at me like that

would make me feel both appreciated and highly judged

it switches every day honestly

but season 1-2 would be great <3

after he gets his byler drama sorted out he’d be back to 10/10

Erica

depends if she’s insulting me or not

but if she’s insulting me then i probably did something first so it’d be my fault

but overall she’d be super cool to hang with!

and she’s super smart- if i pay her, maybe she’ll do my math homework 😭

i haven’t nt watched my little pony in years (and obviously not the 80s one she watched) but i think i’d watch it so we could talk bout it

and talk with dustin too about it

cause he watches my little pony too

Joyce

6/10

As great a mom as she is, she barley ever payed attention to Jonathan

like, never

i would trust her to save me, yeah, absolutely, she’d do anything

but like i said with Jonathan..

overall though i suppose really good, she’d be fun to hang out with

Jim

4.5/10

dudes SCARY

yells too much

i’m generally spooked by older people, especially older men sooo yeah 🧍

that wouldn’t help

would constantly feel like a disappointment even if that’s not what he wanted

every so often a really good moment

maybe a heart to heart that’d boost him up a few numbers

Murray

4/10

as funny as he is, if he started talking about my relationship, i’d punch him

not actually i’m a coward but i’d mentally punch him

if he never talked about relationships then he could be a good 8/10 or something

nothing too special even then, just casual

Bob

9/10

gets -1 point because old men scare me lmfao

other than that i’d love to play his brain games and learn about the radios and such

great guy :((

would love to have him as an uncle :))

would like to listen to me ramble!

he jon and i can have camera sessions

Owens

7/10

again, -1 point for old man

but specifically during season four i kinda wished i had a dad a lil bit like him

i think the food got to me

and him trying to go against brenner

“kiddo” hit me hard

would not enjoy in the other seasons tho, no trust, thus no comfort at all

Mr Clark

9/10

once more, -1 for old man

but he’s super nice to the kids 😭

and always helps them solve the Upsidedown mystery of the year

where was he this season????

only teacher i could actually go up to and ask for help

would LOVE to have him as a dad

he’d also definitely enjoy to hear my ramblings, especially if they’ve got anything to do with science

i ramble about time travel and mythological creatures a lot (especially dragons and how they would have been) and i’d think he’d enjoy ny special interests of curiosity doors

Alexi

9/10

would love to go to the fair with him and get all the stuffed animals

and watch cartoons and eat slushes i think it’d be great fun

wanna have murray deal with both of us

harhar the old man will never know what hit him

[axelars]

It’s kinda annoying because my (actual) diagnoses came during this “fad” of being traumatized and neurodivergent. So I feel like I annoy everyone when I talk about mine and that they don’t believe me/think I’m just looking for excuses/attention.

This is my story. Human names have been changed.

I am diagnosed Bipolar 2, ADHD, and Autistic.

I went my whole life undiagnosed of what was actually the reasons behind every single struggle I had, and there were, and continue to be ALOT. I talk about it so much because it’s a relief to understand myself now and to validate my experiences and start to heal and move forward. Since as long as I can remember, I felt out of place. Always a step behind everyone else and like I didn’t really belong anywhere. I was painfully shy. Speaking to people terrified me. I had frequent meltdowns and sensory issues that were brushed off as temper tantrums and being sensitive.

But I had friends. I had large friend groups I was a “part” of. I participated in team sports and dance. I maintained okay grades in school. I didn’t scream or meltdown in public. I didn’t stim or avoid eye contact (lol yes I did but had already learned to force it and my stims have always been low key). I didn’t have any “learning disabilities”.

Now I know the reason behind this is autism but it didn’t look the same as what everything knew it as, and girls especially learn to mask very fast and at a young age. And I did have learning disabilities. Auditory processing disorder is one. I mean I guess autism and adhd are learning disorders in themselves, but I don’t like calling them that. We just connect things differently and therefore learn, understand, and do things differently. But we’ve been told our whole lives we’re doing it wrong. We’re doing life wrong. But it becomes our normal so we think everyone feels like this.

Fast forward to high school. I’ve turned dark. My parents went through a really messy and toxic and abusive divorce when I was around 12. I’m 13/14 and I’m starting drinking, and smoke weed. This progresses to drinking heavily and often, and taking various pills. I’m diagnosed with major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety disorder at 15. Medicated and things get better. I finish high school (still partying alot), go to University and do alright and kinda just party my way through it. I got off my meds cause I’m cured! Around 25 or so I start having panic attacks. I can’t leave my house. I go back on meds but as always am still apathetic about life. Panic attacks dissipate and I learn how to manage them when they do happen. Things are pretty good. I get my degree in geology, meet my then partner, John, get my masters degree and then a job. We have 2 dogs, one we got together and one I had previously, and 2 cats. It’s good for a bit and then I get bored and stop caring.

And then Covid hits. All routine and structure and societal need to socialize disappears. At first it was awesome. I could sleep in and working from home was nice. But then I got bored and started caring less and less about my work. I couldn’t focus, keep track of time or even days gone by, was experiencing executive dysfunction, sensory issues got worse, and much more. I now know this is ADHD and Autistic burnout.

I’m diagnosed with ADHD and do a bunch of medication trials. Nothing works. It makes me more apathetic and I don’t give a single fuck about anything at all. Even the one thing that brings me joy which is dog training. I realize my childhood was really abusive and traumatizing and I’d been normalizing it. So I start trying to heal from that.

My partner at the time was the only thing keeping me afloat (love you John) but it also took a huge toll on our relationship. We moved to the Yukon. I switched to a new company. I became even more depressed and move back to Alberta without him. I take all of the animals (2 cats and 2 dogs) because he’s on shift work. He gets super depressed without his Emma (dog) and finds a way to not be on shift work anymore so he can take care of her. So I send her back to him because they really did have the best bond, and she was born to be a wilderness dog. But this was heartbreaking for me. I get involved in an extremely emotionally abusive and manipulating and as I later find out, dangerous situationship. I’d known him for over a decade so I could trust him right? Dead fucking wrong but we will get into that later. John is still my best friend. I get a border collie puppy and she’s amazing. He gets involved in a relationship (also abusive) and cuts off communication with me. I finally get diagnosed bipolar 2 and and medicated for it. I learn my first manic episode was at age 19 when I decided to go to New Zealand for 2 months out of nowhere. I hate travelling. I barely remember the experience and I wasn’t drinking or doing drugs.

John gets himself out and we are best friends again. I couldn’t do life at this point without him.

Things are starting to make sense and get easier. I’m able to regulate my emotions better. I get myself out of that abusive situationship. I completely change careers and leave geology and the security along with it (it’s the best decision I’ve ever made). This change brings new meaning and purpose and joy to my life, but it also ends a years long friendship and my dog training community and support system.

Then my soul dog, Ernie, and the reason I’m a dog trainer gets bone cancer and dies. I reconnect with my previous friends from the training community (silver linings?).

My mom gets cancer which has spread and needs chemo. She’s starting her third set of treatments this week. The doctors are optimistic but she never tells us the whole truth about scary things. I’m scared but trying to be positive.

Then I find out the real truth about my situation-ship. Him and his friend have allegations of sexually assaulting women together. At least one his friend was charged for but they got dropped when she could no longer afford it. Our justice system sucks. Like how is that fucking possible. I learn of other attempted assaults or close call and just overall inappropriate disgusting behaviour. I learn of the other women. I speak to them and even befriend one. I learn he told us all the same stories that “he’s never shared with anyone before”, cooks the same meals, makes the same jokes, literally all the same things. This guy has zero conscience or personality and genuinely believes he is a good guy. He would always talk about what a good guy he is 🙄. Well he had me fooled and a trail of traumatized women before me. I learn he sent all of us at the same time pictures of his 2 year old niece. I’m disgusted by this because what human uses their toddler niece to gain trust from women. He’s despicable so I tell his sister in law.

Anyways I put that behind me and meet a really nice guy, Tyler. We have awesome chemistry and we get each other. But he’s in the dark place and can’t be what I need. I understand this because I’ve been there several times but it still really sucks. I’ve had a really hard time moving on.

Fuckface is back on the dating apps going by a different name. He’s so vile 🤮

My training business is picking up and I’m genuinely starting to be kinda happy. I can at least get more daily things done but it’s still a disaster. Still having a hard time missing Tyler but managing. Before bipolar meds I would have spiralled into my pit of despair.

A new dog comes into my life. She is an Olde English Bulldogge just like Ernie was and I sincerely believe he sent her to me. The week before I met her as a training client for a rescue I train with, I’d been feeling his presence a lot. I’m about to adopt her and I started a part time job at a canine physiotherapy clinic doing hydrotherapy. I love it. I get to see my best friend after 5 years and meet her little daughter.

So I think things are kinda progressively getting better with each setback. But frick can I just be done with everything needing to be a lesson?? I’ve got my PhD at this point.

[childeproof]

infodumping abt my genshin s/i & his relationship with each of my genshin f/os under the cut :]

first off their backstory ,, essentially , he was picked up by arlecchino and raised by her in the orphanage ( like lyney , lynette , & freminet ). sacha was very close with arlecchino , sort of clingy and annoying. instead of rejecting him , however , she decided to mold him into a killing machine. he grew up the ranks rather quickly but on one mission in particular , he sees a young woman ( younger than him ) enjoying her life so sweetly. so innocently. and he realizes that this is not the life he wants to live , so he fakes his death and leaves the fatui.

things to note: he often listened to the tsaritsa sing and was apart of the tsaritsa’s choir ( a choir formed to sing praises for the tsaritsa , sort of an indoctrination trick for younger kids ) , <- he knows how to sing opera songs due to this , sacha was childhood friends with childe ( they were around the same age by the time childe was out of the abyss and rising in the fatui ) , he turned out much like lynette in the end ( cold ish , distant ) although much more talkative because he has no one to speak for him ( no living siblings ) , when arlecchino found him he was eating from a wolf’s corpse btw ( he’s like maybe 8 or 9 so he’s aware enough ) , and um he’s masc nb. there’s more facts i have in mind for him but these are the ones that are important to me …

after sacha fakes his death ( i imagine he’s like 18-19 ) , he leaves and changes his look completely. he grows out his hair , which is why he has short two braids , he thins his eyebrows for a while to appear more feminine ( eventually he gives up on that , hence his thicker eye brows ) , lipstick , makeup etc , the whole thing. he is sacha still , he would rather not change his name because that’s like the only thing he has left of his parents at all and anyways he is just. different. he leaves the fatui and becomes an opera singer , becomes close with the conductor he works with ( father figure ) , the conductor ends up dying and leaving behind his studio / home in fontaine to sacha and sacha takes up the mantle of conductor. he is a swordsman AND a conductor. in honor of his master , his trainer , his conductor , he forms a masterclass group of musicians that he hand picks. he goes from a killing machine to the mozart of teyvat , lol.

anyways …. onto the relationships!!

sacha and childe …

sacha & childe were childhood friends / lovers & childe never got over the way sacha just LEFT. no goodbye , no nothing. when he visits liyue and notices that there’s a newly famous conductor performing , he decides to check it out. low and behold , sacha the conductor is sacha the fatui grunt from his youth. he is baffled but he is certain— childe would know those dead fish eyes anywhere— and he begs to see the conductor after the show. security tell him no , of course. they tell him he can see sacha perform again in fontaine— so that’s where he goes.

their relationship is full of ups & downs , mostly because childe is worried sacha will leave again and sacha is quite terrified of their fatui past ( and arlecchino , who he suspects knows that sacha faked his death ). there’s a familiarity between them though … like ugh , they KNOW each other , they know the fears the embarrassing moments of youth , they’ve explored each other’s bodies most likely. grrr it’s hard to explain but there’s angst and comfort ok … and childe is jealous of everyone new in sacha’s life. “ do they make you feel like i did? are they as sweet as i was? sweeter? “ like childe is a lil possessive too. silly bugs.

childe forces his way back stage during one of sacha’s performances & sacha nearly kills him , lol. he has his sword ( which he conducts with , actually ) against childe’s throat and he’s like “ what the hell do you want from me? “ and childe’s like “ i just wanted to see you again , please. please. “

sacha and neuvillette …

sacha , a newly famous composer. furina becomes quite fond of sacha’s music , so sacha often performs for her. occasionally the archon has sacha sing. he becomes the archon’s musical entertainer in a way. neuvillette grows slowly but surely fond of him , through talking back stage and discussing “ business “ ( sacha is great at derailing conversations ). I think they’d be like cristina & preston from grey’s anatomy— one part of the pair is extremely closed off and hard to reach out to while the other strives for things like moving in , regular communication , etc. sacha loves neuvillette or at least he loves going to operas with him and kissing him in the sunlight and holding him close whenever it starts to rain. however neuvillette feels like sacha doesn’t love him quite enough sometimes. ( they work on this btw lol ) ( neuvillette eventually snoops around & learns bits of sacha’s past esp when childe shows up in fontaine like in canon ) ( some people think neuvillette is sacha’s sugar daddy & he doesn’t correct them which neuvillette gets on him about ).

umm i’ll expand more on each of these relationships as time goes on ^_^ but yes Genshin s/i & f/o lore

[adito-lang]

Hiking in the footsteps of the Heckerzug (part 1)

This past weekend, my boyfriend - a history enthusiast - and I did a multi-day hike in the southern Black Forest 🌲Schwarzwald🌲 that followed part of the route taken by revolutionary leader Friedrich Hecker and his armed civilian militia between April 13-20, 1848.

The history

The Badische Revolution was part of the broader revolutions of 1848 that took place across Europe, and it was the first to take place in Germany. The first chapter of Badische Revolution was an uprising known as the Heckeraufstand. It was led by radical democrat Friedrich Hecker with the intention of overthrowing the monarchy and establishing a Republic.

Hecker and his contemporary Gustav Struve (who had relinquished his aristocratic title) organized an armed civilian militia which set out from Konstanz on the Swiss border on April 13, 1848. This march is known as the Heckerzug, and its final destination was Karlsruhe, the ducal capital of the Grand Duchy of Baden (Großherzogtum Baden), where it was to join forces with another armed group, led by the revolutionary poet Georg Herwegh, which had set out from France. Revolutionaries Franz Sigel and Joseph Weißhaar also led civilian militias as part of the uprising that were to join up with the Heckerzug - none of them made it anywhere close to Karlsruhe, as you can see on the map below.

On April 20, the Heckerzug was halted by troops of the German Confederation (Deutscher Bund) just outside the village of Kandern, at a point known as Scheideck. Hecker survived the battle and fled to Switzerland (as did Struve), and later emigrated to the USA.

The hike (day 1: Lenzkirch - Bernau 21,6 km)

Our hike began on Friday morning. We had spent the night in Freiburg and took a train from there to Titisee, continuing to Lenzkirch by bus. The Heckerzug arrived there on April 17, 1848, and Hecker held a speech on the steps of the guesthouse Zum Rößle to encourage the locals to join his cause - he won over about a half-dozen men, and the Heckerzug continued onwards the same day.

From Lenzkirch, we first hiked 8,5 km along the Schluchtensteig over to Aha and around the western part of the Schluchtsee (the largest lake in the Black Forest) before continuing over the next ridge to Menzenschwand.

Part of the path from Menzenschwand over the next ridge was closed due to forestry work, and we considered taking a long detour around the ridge, but ended up bushwhacking our way up a semi-official path... right as we got to the top of the ridge, the thunder started, and we hurried down to Bernau. The storm rolled in quickly from the southwest, and we arrived in Bernau in the pouring rain, but we still managed to see the guesthouse Adler, where Hecker and his men were welcomed with a hearty meal back in the day.

Spending the evening in Todtmoos

We hung out in Bernau for an hour before taking a local bus south to Todtmoos, where we stayed the night. The Heckerzug never passed through there, but Todtmoos was historically a pilgrimage destination due to its baroque pilgrimage church (Wallfahrtskirche). A supposed apparition of the Virgin Mary here in 1255 led to pilgrims from the Black Forest, northern Switzerland and the Alsace region to flock to Todtmoos during the Middle Ages to pray for an end to the Black Death. This was the beginning of the tourist industry in Todtmoos, and in the seventeenth century, several guesthouses were opened to accommodate pilgrims. The oldest is today's Hotel Maien, which opened its doors in 1622.

By the way, if you're thinking of opening up a restaurant or hotel in the Black Forest, might I offer some suggestions?

Rössle/Rößle: horse (dialect) 🐴

Krone: crown 👑

Adler: eagle 🦅

Hirsch: stag 🦌

Ochse: ox 🐂

Löwe: lion 🦁

Sonne: sun ☀️

Kreuz: cross ✝️

You see establishments with these names everywhere. Every town has a Rössle!

[antonballdeluxe]

The Eternal September's Late-Stages From A Disabled Woman's Viewpoint

But then again, was there anywhere for me to go in the first place, being, well...

While I try to stray away from mentioning it on other pages of my site, it does occasionally come up -- I am considered disabled. Not physically, mind you, this will not cover that. I have multiple mental disorders sprawling over both the sides of what one would call neurodivergancy, and the side of what is mental illness. It sucks, but I'd rather not host a pity party here over it. Neurodivergancy is a new and funny word, coming mostly from, well, the internet. There are a lot of disabled people on the internet, and if you asked me, I'd say that disabled people also are major creators on the internet, and it makes sense. For us, it's an easier way to communicate to keep it online and simple.

Or at least, it used to be. Within the last two years or so, the pandemic forcing more normal people to be online as much as we are for school and work, they've been able to explore the internet more than ever before. Niche websites no longer niche, and subcultures growing more popular as people find them. I guess this isn't neccessarily a bad thing, but I digress. Normies keep things alive and able to have money made off of them, but they also tend to dilute the subculture into being more acceptable to parade around in public. This includes places directly for disabled people (...like me) to be able to talk comfortably about the issues we have with our lives and what cards we've been dealt.

Before writing this, at a wit's end, I decided to look for one of those places on DISBOARD, which is basically just an advertising place for Discord servers. What I found was dissapointing, to say the least, and speaks more of a wider problem. A lot of the servers were for teenagers and younger, which is concerning giving how teenagers are with sharing their personal information online, and alienating because I usually don't like being around, say, anyone under the age of 15. Scrolling further -- a lot of these servers are obviously too friendly towards too obvious malingerers. Disorder fakers. This has grown expotentially since the pandemic started, and I'd say that if there was no pandemic, faking of a certain romanticizable disorder would've either stayed or died on fucking Tumblr. Now, there's entire conventions, communities, merchandise, for something actual doctors debate over if it's even real or not. A lot of the servers I saw for the disabled explicitly were aiming for this group of disorder fakers, it seemed, acting friendly, giving accomodations.

And maybe this is just me, but they all seemed too well held together. As if there was already a social line for the communinities and if I stepped out of that line, may Heaven grab my hands to save me from a screaming Hell. Every server I saw had to immedietly outline that if you didn't fit in the owner's personal Disability Discourse Opinion Box, go elsewhere. I am not good at staying within those lines, because my neurodiversity directly affects how I attend a social situation. I am often out of that line in general, hence how I ended up here in the first place. A normal person does not get this involved in small web communities, and if that bursts a bubble, I'm so sorry.

Oddly enough number two -- I found my best bet for disability support was to look the opposite way from those places aimed at it -- I've been able to find home recently in the official server for a game I've recently fallen in love with. Making a shrine-page for the game soon, of course! It's what I do. But everyone there kinda...got it. I wasn't good at being social, and it was ok, a silent approval of that. I feel welcome, loved by most, like I can actually talk and not worry about making people mad just by existing. Thank you, and if you are from that place, thank you even more.

Now, where does this tie into the idea of the Eternal September, where the people just living life on earth gain access to where only hobbyists have been? Because the entire internet seems like it's headed this way, since, well, after the pandemic started again. Remember the "Alternative" boom of Summer 2020, where teenage girls and alike suddenly wore all black and partied like it was 2006? Direct result of that. And it's only gotten worse for the underground communities I've been in since, including some breakcore artists, mobile games, looking at pretty things, and more. It's not just the youth, but the normie adults seem to be worse at blending in with the rest of the underground, which is...again, outcasts, more, and, bluntly, the disabled that spend a lot of time online because going outside is haaaard. Yeah, I know touching grass isn't that hard, and I've been doing that more and more often since this boom in subculture popularities has occured. Doing my art, my writing (like this one!), exercise, more. Getting into stuff I haven't cared about in years.

I'd also like to mention that this is why you just can't seem to ever escape politics online anymore. You used to, but you can't now, because the radicalized have spread, and so have the normies, the shitlibs, the 40 year old Facebook dads with their...y'know what I'm not going further into this point just know I'm right on it.

This has further isolated my disabled ass more than I was isolated when I was actively bullied for it in public schooling, where I went to the internet to just...hang out, be with people as weird as I am. But now people are socially ok and in these places and they make more rules and whatnot, and I always end up fucking things up for myself in those places. Flopping on the floor like a fish in my head right now, because that's all I can really do about it. I am just a fish in the ocean, and surfing the world wide web just isn't that fun anymore. And as fish do, it's a fight with other fish to survive. I guess I'm surviving ok so far. But I'm still a fish. Why am I a fish? Fish.

Q: What do you call a fish with no eyes?

A: A fsh.

[tempesttragedya]

idk what I expected (Accepting)

at the age of five years old, Celia’s hamster escaped its cage. she doesn’t remember much about her childhood, but this memory is distinct. 

a hamster-hunt ensued, with numerous scientists taking up the search, but ultimately coming up empty. no one could find hide nor hair of Hammie- that is, until her uncle emerged from his private lab, hamster in hand, perfectly unharmed. she remembers beaming up at Forrest and the look of what she now recognized to be amusement. 

Hammie died two days later, stiff as a board when Celia woke in the morning and checked on him. no apparent cause; it just happened. 

of course, none of that is what really stood out to Celia. what she remembers most distinctly is her uncle taking her aside during one of her classes that same day. the way he knelt and placed a large hand on her shoulder, almost kind, but for the words that left his lips... 

“Let this serve as a lesson... There is nothing that will survive so long as you, my dear. To love is to lose, and we Clarkes... we do not lose.” 

---

the day after her seventh birthday, Celia’s parents were brought to the medical wing of the Umbrella facility in which they resided, not to emerge for another week, and then, in body bags. 

when she was first brought to Forrest’s apartment, she was near inconsolable. for the entire first night, she curled in on herself and cried for what felt like an eternity, until, finally, sleep took her. 

when she sniffled the next morning at breakfast, the lesson was far harsher than the years earlier. her cheek stung, but Celia was always a quick learner. 

it did not happen again. 

---

for 18 years, Celia had dodged attachments; she moved often enough that few knew her, regardless. until rumors circulated of something big happening in Raccoon City, and she dared to go explore, herself.

 her meeting with Leon only lasted a horror-filled night, and though she could feel the strings deftly tying themselves around her heart, she had quickly severed them. reminded herself why even as the hole in her chest seemed to widen. 

but they had met again. a late night escapade of Celia’s, leading to a diner where she had felt more at home than anywhere else she had ever been. with him. 

when she tried to cut the strings once more, knees drawn to her stomach as she hid in the bathroom, shower on to drown out the quiet sound of her sobs, Celia found them reinforced... 

they weren’t supposed to meet again. she played a dangerous game, keeping in contact through letters, even as sporadic as they were. when he disappeared for a longer period of time, right amidst her own divorce from the group she had fallen in with, she told herself that was that. he was done with her, and she with him. thick ropes in her chest cavity tighten at the thought, but she resigns herself, recalling the lessons learned, both old and new... 

and yet. 

and yet he finds her again. and when she stands before him, knees weak, throat dry, all she can manage is... 

“You look like shit.”

---

Now, metal cables rust at the center of her heart; she can feel the ache deep in the marrow of her bones, tied to him despite every resistance... 

“   please ,   just  hold  me ,  ” @poisonpicked says...

grief. she can feel it wracking her body; the shake in her hands that she hides by resting them in her lap; the scream in the back of her mind, neverending, even as she smiles at him, pretending that everything is fine.  

that he is not dying and she is not doomed.

“of course.” she moves carefully, propping herself up against the headboard and opening her arms to him once comfortable. she memorizes the way he fits in the crook of her arm; the way his warmth seeps into her, forcing an unexpected, shuddering breath as he makes himself comfortable. 

tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but Celia grits her teeth and forces them back. it’s not about her. 

one hand comes up to swipe hair out of Leon’s face, fingers gentle even with the slight tremor. 

“You know,” she murmurs, gaze flickering across his features, as though memorizing each and every distinct mark, the curve of his lips and cheek... “You’re not allowed to die.” 

there’s a sharp sting on her cheek, and the hand that had hovered near his temple quickly comes up to touch the very same spot - coming away wet. 

finally, something seems to settle in her chest, and the next breath she takes could almost be mistaken for a sob as her gaze turns back to him. forehead presses to his, and her eyes close, tears finally flowing freely down cheeks even as she 

“you’re not allowed to die, Leon. because I’m a Clarke... and Clarkes... we don’t lose.” 

[jcmarchi]

Donny White, CEO & Co-Founder of Satisfi Labs – Interview Series

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/donny-white-ceo-co-founder-of-satisfi-labs-interview-series/

Donny White, CEO & Co-Founder of Satisfi Labs – Interview Series

Founded in 2016, Satisfi Labs is a leading conversational AI company. Early success came from its work with the New York Mets, Macy’s, and the US Open, enabling easy access to information often unavailable on websites.

Donny spent 15 years at Bloomberg before entering the world of start-ups and holds an MBA from Cornell University and a BA from Baruch College. Under Donny’s leadership, Satisfi Labs has seen significant growth in the sports, entertainment, and tourism sectors, receiving investments from Google, MLB, and Red Light Management.

You were at Bloomberg for 14 years when you first felt the entrepreneurial itch. Why was being an entrepreneur suddenly on your radar?

During my junior year of college, I applied for a job as a receptionist at Bloomberg. Once I got my foot in the door, I told my colleagues that if they were willing to teach me, I could learn fast. By my senior year, I was a full-time employee and had shifted all of my classes to night classes so I could do both. Instead of going to my college graduation at age 21, I spent that time managing my first team. From that point on, I was fortunate to work in a meritocracy and was elevated multiple times. By 25, I was running my own department. From there, I moved into regional management and then product development, until eventually, I was running sales across all the Americas. By 2013, I began wondering if I  could do something bigger. I went on a few interviews at young tech companies and one founder said to me, “We don’t know if you’re good or Bloomberg is good.” It was then that I knew something had to change and six months later I was the VP of sales at my first startup, Datahug. Shortly after, I was recruited by a group of investors who wanted to disrupt Yelp. While Yelp is still good and well, in 2016 we aligned on a new vision and I co-founded Satisfi Labs with the same investors.

Could you share the genesis story behind Satisfi Labs?

I was at a baseball game at Citi Field with Randy, Satisfi’s current CTO and Co-founder, when I heard about one of their specialties, bacon on a stick. We walked around the concourse and asked the staff about it, but couldn’t find it anywhere. Turns out it was tucked away on one end of the stadium, which prompted the realization that it would have been much more convenient to inquire directly with the team through chat. This is where our first idea was born. Randy and I both come from finance and algorithmic trading backgrounds, which led us to take the concept of matching requests with answers to build our own NLP for hyper-specific inquiries that would get asked at locations. The original idea was to build individual bots that would each be experts in a particular field of knowledge, especially knowledge that isn’t easily accessible on a website. From there, our system would have a “conductor” that could tap each bot when needed. This is the original system architecture that is still being used today.

Satisfi Labs had designed its own NLP engine and was on the cusp of publishing a press release when OpenAI disrupted your tech stack with the release of ChatGPT. Can you discuss this time period and how this forced Satisfi Labs to pivot its business?

We had a scheduled press release to announce our patent-pending Context-based NLP upgrade for December 6, 2022. On November 30, 2022, OpenAI announced ChatGPT. The announcement of ChatGPT changed not only our roadmap but also the world. Initially, we, like everyone else, were racing to understand the power and limits of ChatGPT and understand what that meant for us. We soon realized that our contextual NLP system did not compete with ChatGPT, but could actually enhance the LLM experience. This led to a quick decision to become OpenAI enterprise partners. Since our system started with the idea of understanding and answering questions at a granular level, we were able to combine the “bot conductor” system design and seven years of intent data to upgrade the system to incorporate LLMs.

Satisfi Labs recently launched a patent for a Context LLM Response System, what is this specifically?

This July, we unveiled our patent-pending Context LLM Response System. The new system combines the power of our patent-pending contextual response system with large language model capabilities to strengthen the entire Answer Engine system. The new Context LLM technology integrates large language model capabilities throughout the platform, ranging from improving intent routing to answer generation and intent indexing, which also drives its unique reporting capabilities. The platform takes conversational AI beyond the traditional chatbot by harnessing the power of LLMs such as GPT-4. Our platform allows brands to answer with both generative AI answers or pre-written answers depending on the need for control in the response.

Can you discuss the current disconnect between most company websites and LLM platforms in delivering on-brand answers?

ChatGPT is trained to understand a wide range of information and therefore does not have the level of granular training needed to answer industry-specific questions with the level of specificity that most brands expect. Additionally, the accuracy of the answers LLMs provide is only as good as the data provided. When you use ChatGPT, it is sourcing data from across the internet, which can be inaccurate. ChatGPT does not prioritize the data from a brand over other data.  We have been serving various industries over the past seven years, gaining valuable insight into the millions of questions asked by customers every day. This has enabled us to understand how to tune the system with greater context per industry and provide robust and granular intent reporting capabilities, which are crucial given the rise of large language models. While LLMs are effective in understanding intent and generating answers, they cannot report on the questions asked. Using years of extensive intent data, we have efficiently created standardized reporting through their Intent Indexing System.

What role do linguists play in enhancing the abilities of LLM technologies?

The role of prompt engineer has emerged with this new technology, which requires a person to design and refine prompts that elicit a specific response from the AI. Linguists have a great understanding of language structure such as syntax and semantics, among other things. One of our most successful AI Engineers has a Linguistics background, which allows her to be very effective in finding new and nuanced ways to prompt the AI. Subtle changes in the prompt can have profound effects on how accurate and efficient an answer is generated, which makes all the difference when we are handling millions of questions across multiple clients.

What does fine-tuning look like on the backend?

We have our own proprietary data model that we use to keep the LLM in line. This allows us to build our own fences to keep the LLM under control, opposed to having to search for fences. Secondly, we can leverage tools and features that other platforms utilize, which allows us to support them on our platforms.

Fine-tuning training data and using Reinforcement Learning (RL) in our platform can help mitigate the risk of misinformation. Fine-tuning, opposed to querying the knowledge base for specific facts to add, creates a new version of the LLM that is trained on this additional knowledge. On the other hand, RL trains an agent with human feedback and learns a policy on how to answer questions. This has proven to be successful in building smaller footprint models that become experts in specific tasks.

Can you discuss the process for onboarding a new client and integrating conversational AI solutions?

Since we focus on destinations and experiences such as sports, entertainment, and tourism, new clients benefit from those already in the community, making onboarding very simple. New clients identify where their most current data sources live such as a website, employee handbooks, blogs, etc. We ingest the data and train the system in real-time. Since we work with hundreds of clients in the same industry, our team can quickly provide recommendations on which answers are best suited for pre-written responses versus generated answers. Additionally, we set up guided flows such as our dynamic Food & Beverage Finder so clients never need to deal with a bot-builder.

Satisfi Labs is currently working closely with sports teams and companies, what is your vision for the future of the company?

We see a future where more brands will want to control more aspects of their chat experience. This will result in an increased need for our system to provide more developer-level access. It does not make sense for brands to hire developers to build their own conversational AI systems as the expertise needed will be scarce and expensive. However, with our system feeding the backend, their developers can focus more on the customer experience and journey by having greater control of the prompts, connecting proprietary data to allow for more personalization, and managing the chat UI for specific user needs. Satisfi Labs will be the technical backbone of brands’ conversational experiences.

Thank you for the great interview, readers who wish to learn more should visit Satisfi Labs.