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[cuddytism]

some thoughts about amber volakis and feminism, as per 4x03 "97 seconds"

I really like that Amber is shown brute-forcing her way out of the sexist games, but... I don’t deem it to be a feminist move on her part, despite the use of such feminist language from her.

It's clear that she does see the systemic barriers that are put up, but rather than choosing not to play along/standing up for the other women, she does what will put her ahead, even if it means ousting herself.

As much as the point she makes about House not hiring women, and the likelihood of him firing all of the men being slim is not only correct, but pretty feminist to point out; the actions she takes are not.

She is making it clear that she does not want to be at an inherent disadvantage because she is a woman, as well as that she is well aware of the systemic sexism that she is up against. She makes a calculated move to combat this when she asks to be a part of the men's team, and then when she works alone.

It is not that she wants to be “treated like a man” or even that she views the men as more of her peers than the women; she actually thinks that they’re idiots. It is that she would rather be ousted completely than lay down and take what is clearly sexist treatment that, to her knowledge and (correct) assumptions, will only end with her losing in the end, no matter what she does. She wants her work to be judged on her work not on something arbitrary like games or gender.

This, I think, is pretty damn feminist. What isn’t, though, is her actions. Her way of thinking is definitely that of someone who understands how sexism affects her and women as a whole, the thing is, what she does to combat this focuses solely on her.

All of her actions in this episode are supposed to be showing us how ruthless Amber is in her pursuit of this job. The fact that she will let the other women fall victim to a sexist system that she is well aware of because she knows it will put her in a worse position to fight against the illness of House’s sexist practices rather than the symptoms, is definitely doing the job there!

It says a lot that instead of suggesting they don’t get split by gender, in defense of the women as a whole, she asks for herself to be the exception. This is pretty firmly not feminist. But it is very… White feminist. Which I think is a really interesting characterization of her.

Though, I definitely don’t think Amber is trying to be feminist here. Nor do I think her actions in this episode were supposed to be read as feminist. They definitely could have taken that route and I think that there was a deliberate choice not to. She does point out those underlying themes of sexism and misogyny; she isn’t blind to the fact that they are at play. But she also doesn’t do anything to push against that system on behalf of her fellow women; she pushes back for herself, because being a feminist is not her main character trait; being cutthroat is.

All this to say: I don’t think we’re supposed to be reading Amber as someone trying to “Do a Feminism” here, but I do think there is an active choice being made to paint her in more of a feminist lens. And that is interesting to me!

[mllekurtz]

Fox's Claw

aka the Shadowgast Witcher AU part 2

Prologue

Morning came like drops of honey in warm milk. The golden sunlight filtering through the curtains traced slanted columns of amber in the room, highlighting the motes of dust that danced in and out of them. Caleb blinked, not asleep nor awake, surfacing from a dreamless sleep. Neither the dust, nor the room nor the sunlight were real, at least not in the conventional sense. Still, they didn’t feel more unreal than the arm slung across Caleb’s chest, which, on the other hand, wasn’t the result of some creative, intricate spell-work. His eyes followed the downy curve of a slim bicep, skimmed over the soft swell of a shoulder and finally landed on mussed white hair. He was aware of the pressure of a round cheekbone on his own bony shoulder (the sharpness of which was often complained about, but never renounced). The moist sensation of drool on his skin was charming, although he could imagine the horrified reaction if he ever voiced this thought. He turned his head to press a lazy kiss on the crown of that head, inhaling a ghost of lavender and rosemary. A tapered ear flicked sluggishly, but Essek didn’t move. “I know you’re awake,” Caleb murmured. The sun wouldn’t be up otherwise.

Read the rest of the prologue and subscribe to the fic 💫 here 💫

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

Beyond The Screen: Chapter 4 - masterlist

Chapter Word Count: 3.4k words.

Chapter Summary: James, Sirius, and Remus gather to watch your newest video—one born of spontaneity, yet filmed with the kind of intimacy that makes it feel deeply personal. As the video plays out, the lines between voyeur and participant blur, drawing them closer not just to you, but to each other. What began as fascination deepens into something they can no longer deny: they're hooked.

Tags: Adult content, explicit group masturbation, shared sexual experience among partners, detailed sexual video description, emotional intimacy, blurred creator-subscriber boundaries, sexually charged dialogue, light obsession themes.

The room is filled with the soft glow of their phone screens, illuminating each face in the dimly lit apartment. The air is warm, thick with a quiet that wraps around them like a blanket—a comfort despite the undercurrent of unspoken tension that has lingered since the night before.

For once, they are not creating but consuming, fingers lazily scrolling through feeds and messages, the world outside their walls momentarily forgotten. It's a rare reprieve from the constant hum of production—the filming, the editing, the brainstorming of ideas that usually consumes their every waking moment. But tonight, it is just them.

Sirius lounges on the couch, his long legs draped over James's lap. His head rests against the armrest, one hand absentmindedly playing with the fringe of the throw pillow beneath him. Remus sits across from them, curled up in an armchair, a mug of tea steaming gently beside him as he reads something off his screen.

"Anything interesting?" Sirius asks without lifting his gaze from his own device. His voice is low, almost indifferent, belying the restless energy that always seems to simmer beneath his calm exterior. Always looking, always reaching for something—distraction, validation, connection—it doesn't matter as long as it fills the void.

James doesn't answer immediately, his thumb hovering over a new notification. A familiar username flashes across his screen, sending a jolt of anticipation coursing through him, quickening his pulse. He swipes it open, and there you are.

"Yeah," James says, sitting up a little straighter. "From her."

This draws Sirius's attention. He shifts, removing his feet from James's lap to sit upright, his gaze already moving to catch a glimpse of the message on James's screen. Even Remus looks up, though he says nothing, observing with that quiet intensity of his.

"What does she say?" Sirius asks, leaning closer.

James opens the message, and there it is—your latest pay-per-view, delivered through DMs, accompanied by a simple, teasing note: A little spontaneous self-love 💋 - $20.

"Listen to this," James murmurs, his voice rich with anticipation as he reads aloud, "A little spontaneous self-love." His words hang in the air, charged with promise, and though he knows it's a PPV, he can't help but feel his pulse quicken at the thought of what images might await behind that price tag. He'd willingly pay double for the privilege of seeing more of you.

Sirius lets out a low whistle, his eyes sparkling with intrigue. "Spontaneous, huh? Wonder what got her all hot and bothered."

Remus merely raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. But James catches the flicker of interest in those amber eyes, a subtle tell that betrays his stoic facade; Remus might be the picture of restraint, yet beneath that calm surface, curiosity stirs and there’s no hiding it from James.

James doesn't hesitate. He clicks on the message, quickly paying the $20. His movements are swift, almost desperate, as if he fears the video will disappear before he can claim it. The transaction goes through, and the lock icon next to the video turns green. Unlocked.

"Ready?" James's voice is hoarse with anticipation. It's a redundant question—he knows they're ready. They've been waiting for something like this since they first discovered your page.

Sirius leans in, eyes glued to the screen, while Remus perches on the arm of the sofa, his usual composure giving way to a hint of eagerness. James hits play, and the video begins.

There you are. Framed perfectly within the confines of the screen, you lie back against your bed, the soft light casting shadows across your bare skin. There's nothing left to the imagination now—every curve, every line of your body is on full display—but it's the way you touch yourself that draws them in further. Your hands explore with a slow, deliberate pace that leaves nothing untouched, and the camera, unflinching, records every sigh, every shudder.

James's eyes remain glued to the screen, his breath hitching as he watches you take the dildo in hand. You're gentle with yourself, guiding the tip to your entrance and pushing it in slowly, deliberately. His heart pounds in his chest as he takes in every detail—the way your muscles tense, then relax; the little gasp that escapes your lips.

Then, you reach for the vibrator. It's small but powerful, and as you press it against your clit, James can't help but imagine what the sensation must feel like. Witnessing this intimate act, seeing you so lost in your own pleasure, sends a jolt of heat straight to his groin. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his trousers suddenly too tight.

"Fuck," Sirius murmurs, his voice a low growl. He's already moving, hands reaching for the buckle of his belt. There's no hesitation in his actions—Sirius Black has never been one to deny himself what he wants when he wants it. And right now, what he wants is release.

James glances up at Remus, his eyes also locked onto the screen. He sees the subtle clench of Remus's jaw, the faint flush on his cheeks, and recognises them for what they are. Restraint, and barely held restraint at the.

"She's…" Remus starts, voice barely above a whisper, but he doesn't need to finish. The sentiment hangs in the air, understood by all.

"Yeah," James agrees, his own throat dry. This video feels different from the others—less staged, more intimate. As if you'd simply set up the camera and let whatever happened next unfold naturally. That thought alone makes his heart pound harder against his ribs.

The tempo quickens, your hips tilting with a sharpness that betrays the urgency in your movements. Your hands clutch at the sheets, knuckles white against the dark fabric. The sounds you make—soft moans that grow louder, more desperate—are all the proof they need of the pleasure coursing through you. You're on the brink, teetering on the edge of release, and that's what keeps them riveted to the screen.

A heat stirs low in James' belly, winding tighter with each passing second. His hand twitches toward his lap, seeking relief from the pressure building within him. He unzips his jeans, taking himself in hand without a second thought for the presence of Sirius and Remus. This is nothing new to them; it's part of the intimacy they've built over time, a testament to the trust and understanding that binds them together. And in this moment, it feels right, as if they're reaching out across the distance to share in your pleasure.

Sirius is already there, his own hand moving in a slow rhythm that mirrors your pace. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with desire as he watches the video play out. There's a hunger there that James recognizes, one that has always set Sirius apart. Out of all of them, Sirius has been the most expressive about his admiration for your work, and seeing him so visibly affected by you only adds fuel to the fire smouldering within James.

Remus, however, still holds himself in check, but James isn't fooled. He sees the way Remus's eyes darken, how his breath hitches just slightly when you come into view, your body quivering as you ride out your climax. The sound of your soft, pleading moan fills the room, and James swallows hard, his own body responding as he follows Sirius's lead.

The tension between them is almost palpable, a current of anticipation that charges the air. They've watched countless videos together before, but this… this feels different. More intimate. Perhaps it's because they've been following you for so long, tracing the curve of your journey even as they remained shadows on the periphery. Or maybe it's the way you responded to their messages, teasing and tantalising, playing into their fantasy until it felt like this video was made just for them.

James's hand moves in a steady rhythm, his breath hitching as he watches you on screen. The sight of your pleasure, the sounds of your satisfaction—it's intoxicating. And even though you can't touch him, can't see him, he feels intimately connected to you in this moment.

You're coming down from your high, body still twitching with aftershocks as you slowly pull the dildo out, your legs quivering from the intensity of your orgasm. Seeing you so raw, so undone—it makes his own release feel imminent, pushing at the edge of his control.

"Fuck," Sirius groans next to him, his own hand moving faster now, his body taut with the strain of holding back. His eyes are glued to the screen, watching every detail unfold, and when he speaks next, his voice is a low rasp. "She's… incredible."

James doesn't trust himself to respond, the pressure growing more insistent with each passing second. He knows he's close, but he also knows that Sirius is right there with him, teetering on the brink.

Even Remus, usually the most composed among them, has abandoned any pretense of restraint. His own hand dips below the waistband of his trousers, his movements slow and deliberate, a stark contrast to the quickened pace of his breath. He's quieter than the others, his moans swallowed by the night, but the desire in his gaze is just as potent as he watches you on the screen.

It doesn't take much longer after that. James's hand becomes a blur of motion, and his breathing grows ragged as he finally lets go, body straining against the back of the couch as he finishes, a low groan escaping from deep within his chest as he keeps his gaze fixed on the screen. Sirius is right behind him, body stiffening as he curses through gritted teeth, eyes rolling back into his head as he comes undone.

Remus is quieter, but James can tell he's just as affected by the way his body goes rigid and his breath hitches in his throat. It's rare for them to be so in sync, but when it happens, it's nothing short of powerful.

The video ends just as they're all coming down from their highs, with your body relaxed and satisfied on the screen, a soft smile playing on your lips. It feels like the perfect ending to an unexpectedly intense moment, and the room falls silent for a few beats as they each struggle to catch their breath.

Sirius is the first to break the silence, his voice low and husky. "Fucking hell," he breathes, leaning back into the plush couch, his body humming with a satisfaction that he wears like a second skin. "That was…"

James can only nod in agreement, his heart still racing from the rush of release. His muscles feel warm and loose, languid in the aftermath of his orgasm. "She's incredible," he manages to say, though the words don't seem nearly enough to capture the depth of what he's feeling.

Remus doesn't speak, but the quiet intensity in his gaze as it remains fixed on the screen speaks volumes. He sits back, one hand resting lightly on his thigh, the lines of his body relaxed yet charged with an undercurrent of desire. His lips curve into a faint smile, not quite smug but undeniably pleased.

For a few beats, no one says anything else. They simply sit there, the air between them heavy with the shared experience of release and the lingering echo of your voice in their ears. It's a rarity for all three to be so visibly affected, so captivated by one woman, but it's undeniable—you've reeled them in, hook, line, and sinker.

His fingers hover over the screen, still warm from the video that has just ended. He reads your message again, the words teasing at the edges of his mind. "A little spontaneous self-love," you had called it, but he can't help but wonder if there was more to it than that. If maybe, just maybe, you had made this video with him in mind.

ProngsPlayground_free: Just watched this… and damn, it was exactly what we needed. Whether it was spontaneous or not, you've got us all hooked. 😉 We're definitely addicted now.

His fingers hover over the keys as he imagines your reaction. He's not usually so bold, but the way the three of them were drawn to you, compelled by your presence even through a screen, emboldens him. You're no longer a stranger—not after the nights spent replying to your messages, each one laced with just enough intrigue to keep them coming back for more. With a final tap, he hits send and leans back in his chair, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

Sirius senses the shift and turns his head slightly, just enough to catch the tail end of James's expression. "What did you say?"

"Only that we quite enjoyed her… spontaneous creativity," James replies, his grin broadening as he runs a hand through his already tousled hair.

Sirius chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. "Always the charmer, aren't you, Prongs?"

James simply shrugs, his smile unwavering. "Just stating the obvious, Padfoot. She should know the effect she's having."

Remus, who has been conspicuously quiet, finally breaks his silence. His voice is measured, but there's an undercurrent of something deeper, more profound. "It's not just about the effect, though, is it?" He shifts slightly, fingers absently straightening the wrinkles in his shirt. "She's good at what she does—remarkably so."

"Good?" Sirius echoes, his grin broadening until it's a mirror of James's own. "Rem, that's an understatement. She's bloody brilliant. Did you see how she—"

He cuts himself off with a laugh, shaking his head as if to clear it. "No, 'brilliant' doesn't even begin to cover it."

James' fingers tap absently on his phone, his mind already scrolling through the messages from subscribers on their OnlyFans pages. It's strange, this balance they've found between being creators and consumers. They're always mindful of their own content, managing messages and comments with a professional ease that belies the hours spent behind the scenes. But nothing captures their attention quite like your updates, especially when they're unexpected.

It's not that their own fans aren't important—they are, each one a vital part of the intricate web that supports their lifestyle. But there's something about you that draws them in more deeply, more personally. Maybe it's the mystery, how you reveal so little of yourself beyond your content. Or maybe it's your attitude, a quiet confidence undercut by a playful edge that keeps them coming back for more.

Remus clears his throat, drawing the eyes of both James and Sirius. He doesn’t speak right away, just holds their gazes with a look that’s too deep, too practiced in hiding secrets. It’s a look that has always made James wonder about the thoughts swirling behind those amber eyes.

“You both sense it as well, don't you?” Remus finally says, his voice softer than before, threaded with a seriousness that tugs at the edges of James's awareness. “That we’re… perhaps a bit too into her?"

Sirius laughs, the sound bright against the growing tension. He leans back into the plush cushions of the couch, stretching out his legs with a contented sigh. “That's the whole point, Rem," he says, grinning as he meets Remus's gaze. “We subscribed because we were already too into her.” His smile widens, a teasing glint appearing in his grey eyes. “And don't try to play innocent. We've all seen how you watch her videos.”

Remus doesn't deny it; instead, his faint smile deepens, the corners tugging just slightly at the edges, revealing nothing and everything all at once. It's a silent admission that speaks volumes in the quiet room.

James can't help but feel a rush of exhilaration at the realisation. Even Remus, always the voice of reason, hasn't escaped your allure. There's something about you that's different, something that calls to them, despite the miles and screens that separate you. This shared intrigue binds them tighter, their camaraderie now laced with a tangible curiosity that makes the air buzz with anticipation.

Sirius leans forward again, his grin now mirroring that of the Cheshire Cat. "Don't you wonder if she knows? That she's got us hanging on her every word?"

James lifts his shoulders in a half-shrug, his gaze flickering back to the phone as though expecting it to spring to life any moment. "Maybe. But if she does, she plays it well."

Remus chuckles softly, the sound muffled behind his hand. "Isn't that part of the thrill, though? The not knowing."

"Exactly." James nods, eyes still locked on the screen before him. There's an intensity to his gaze, a focus that hints at something deeper than mere interest. It's as though they've stumbled upon a game whose rules are still being written, where each move is a step into the unknown.

A soft buzz draws their attention back to the phone cradled in James's hand. Another message from you lights up the screen, and his heart does a strange little flip at the sight of your words.

You: I’m glad you all enjoyed it. 😊 I’ve got plenty more spontaneous moments like that coming your way. Hope you’re ready. 😘

Sirius leans over James's shoulder, his eyes sparkling with mischief and anticipation as he reads your message aloud. "She's teasing us again. I love it."

James chuckles, the sound warm and genuine. His fingers hover over the screen, the excitement of your interaction coursing through him like a live wire. This connection, as strange and unexpected as it is, feels almost… exhilarating.

"So do I," James murmurs, his eyes closing as he leans back into the couch. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a faint smile. "We're hopeless."

Remus shakes his head, a chuckle escaping his lips despite the gravity of their conversation. "Well, if we are, at least she's worth it."

The sentiment hangs in the air, an unspoken agreement between them. They don't need to voice it; they can feel it in the way their hearts beat faster when they think of you, in the way their minds wander back to your voice, your touch, your smile.

Sirius stretches languidly, every muscle in his body protesting the movement. He stands with a groan, padding towards the kitchen. "I don't know about you lot, but I'm starving. That took more out of me than I anticipated."

James chuckles, watching him go. "You're always hungry after."

"Can't help it," Sirius replies, a grin tugging at his lips even as he rummages through the cupboards for a quick meal. "Seeing her like that… it does something to me."

Remus stifles a laugh, pushing himself off the couch and stretching languidly. "He's not wrong."

James lingers on the couch, staring at the screen of his phone where your message still glows. He knows he shouldn't be this intrigued, this ensnared by the allure of something so intangible and yet so compelling. As a creator himself, he knows better than to get lost in the illusion. But there's something about you, something about this world you've woven that beckons him with an irresistible pull.

It's more than just the content, more than the fantasy. It's the personal touch, the way you interact with each comment, each piece of feedback. There's an authenticity to it that sets it apart from the usual sterile interactions online. Maybe that's why he's allowing himself to get swept up in this, to lose himself in the narrative you spin, even if only through the confines of a screen.

He doesn't know what will come next or how long this will last, but for now, he's content to let things unfold naturally. Whatever direction you choose to take, whatever spontaneous moment you conjure up next, he'll be there—watching, enjoying, and perhaps even becoming a little more entangled in the web you weave.

For now, though, he tucks his phone away and heads for the kitchen where his boys are congregating, their voices a comforting hum in the background. The warmth of your words lingers, a reminder of the connection that, however fleeting, has sparked something within him, within all of them.

[luvyuki0]

Amber ── .✦01.

✦ Summary: In which Esme and Hoseok fall in love but of course with love comes trouble especially when you're dating an idol.

Series masterlist| previous| next

"JUST SHUT UP! PLEASE!" Her cries echoed throughout the house, covering her ears as she laid on the floor. She couldn't deal with it anymore, the constant gaslighting and the mental abuse was getting to the point where it was too much. "I should've listened when they warned me, but nah I ignored them 'cause my dumbass didn't know any better, cutting the people I loved off FOR YOU! just so that you could be happy, for us to be happy!" She screamed while crying. He stood there confused as if he didn't know why she was crying, as if he wasn't the reason her mental health depleted and still is. when she finally looked up at him all that could be seen in her face was disgust. Disgust with they were he was looking and acting towards her over the years. "You know what I'm done with this bullshit." She got up wiping her tears, leaving the male's apartment ignoring all sounds and stares she received. All she could think about was why she never realized sooner......



. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Esme's POV:

        "Should I be doing this right now?" Biting my fingers anxiously as my decorated camera sat on my bed. I knew I would have to come back to making YouTube videos eventually,as it was all I knew and I would be nothing without it and my subscribers. I just never expected it to feel so foreign to me. Honestly I don't even know if I'm ready to get back but I know many of my fans miss me, and of course theres some who thought I'd be gone for good, and honestly I don't blame them for that knowing I did take a 6-month break with no heads up, not only on YouTube but on all my social media platforms, kinda like I just disappeared but if not now then  when?

I sigh grabbing my camera and turning it to start recording. "Hey guys! I know it's been a while and y'all are probably wondering where I've been, what I've been doing and more some of y'all were right and I did break up with Rome but I'm not gonna go into full details about it, cause I'm not ready yet when I am though you guys will know the full story and understand why I took a break but lemme not ruin the mood it's a time of comebacks and celebration! now I am going to get back on my routine, posting weekly and spamming my socials!" As I speak, I can just feel some of the weight I've been holding on being lifted off my chest.

I clasp my hands together before I continue talking. "To be honest with y'all I wasn't even going to start recording again this soon, but Jazmine and her Lil boo invited me and one of his friends to a trip to Hawaii!!! Like y'all don't understand how hyped I am right now! Like I may regret this later but who am I to say no to a trip to Hawaii." I shrug my shoulders jokingly.

"I didn't plan much for this video honestly, but I did want this video and the Hawaii flight video to be separate, and since I and Jaz are going tomorrow imma drop COCO off at my mom's, and hopefully jaz is gonna be home by the time I get back so we can pack together and hopefully make some cute matching fits." I explain to my viewers what I have planned for the day though it wasn't much. (A/N: coco is the name of her Pomeranian I didn't put her in the characters cus she wouldn't be mentioned much💀)

"Come here coco! Y'all why he tryna act like he dont know mee! get a hold of Coco who was trying to run away, I grab my keys, slip on my slides, and lock my door, leaving my apartment complex as I make my way to my car.

I prop my camera on my dashboard, so it won't fall, and put on Apple Music to play "Normal Girl". "As always y'all we're gonna stop by Starbucks so I can try a drink I saw going viral on TikTok then I'll head over to my mom's house to drop coco off." I look back at coco than at my camera as I speaking

"So, this is the drink I got and y'all already know I had to get my grilled cheese! Tew good." I showcase my order to my camera as I get the drink and my grilled cheese sandwich. I eat and drink my order as I make my way over to my mom's house.

I get there and ring the doorbell repeatedly to which she opens the door. "Esme gimme the damn dog so I can go back to sleep too damn early for this shit" she speaks groggily with an attitude.

"It's actually one though...and I don't even get a hello wooow" I joke with her knowing we were on the phone last night.

"Esme quit playin' with me and give me the damn dog."

"Damn here, Bye coco bye mama." I hand her coco and walk back to my car hearing her hum bye back.

"Ok so now that I dropped Coco off imma just head back home and hopefully Jaz is back so we can pack together." I talk to my camera as I start driving back home. . . . . .

I finally get back, unlocking my door to see Jaz in the kitchen getting a snack. "Oh, hey Esme" she turns and greets me.

"Hey sweetheart, did u have fun with your Lil boo," I ask with a smirk.

"Girl yes I have to fill you in on literally everything so fir-".

I cut her off before she started ranting on about what she and Yoongi did. "Before you even start let's pack while you tell me what y'all did because I know you ain't start yet and I know you gon be talking for a good minute. "

"You right" she laughs knowing what I said was true.

We both go into my room and start packing for the trip tomorrow.

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.

.

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A/N: I edited this chapter WAYY more than the second time and I'm actually happy with the beginning chapter and I made this chapter before the whole Starbucks boycott  so that's why they were mentioned I DO NOT SUPPORT them at all not even to the slightest degree

Please like and comment 🙏🏾

— 1089 words —

[mistninja]

Hello!! I'm here to do a little self-promoting!

What you can find on my Substack:

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Part 3: "The Pariah of Bingtown" Character featured: the Liveship Paragon.

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[amandacanwrite]

Violet Thread of Fate || Part Ten : A Sad Story

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven || Part Eight || Part Nine || Part Ten || Join Taglist || Requests Open || Subscribe on AO3

Pairing || Elinna Inklynn (Half-drow tav) and Gale Dekarios

Length || 3500-ish Words

Scenario || In an alternative timeline for the events of BG3 Elinna Inklynn, an orphan from the Moonshae Islands seeks out the tutelage of accomplished wizard Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep. She has a knack with the Weave, but no money or connections to actually learn how to harness it. She has heard the wizard is a gentleman and a schollar, and hopes she can appeal to him to take her on as his apprentice in exchange for her help around his tower, with his research, and in running errands in Waterdeep. Unfortunately for her, Gale Dekarios does not take on apprentices.

Warnings || Age gap (Perhaps about 10ish years.) Description of scarring from corporal punishment. Slightly mature themes. Shared memories of neglect and abuse. Themes of illness and death.

A/n ||

Taglist || @softvampirewhump @horizonstride @thoughts-of-bear @mymybirdie @tiedyedghoulette

@drabblesandimagines @madwomansapologist @hijirikaww @tryingtowritestuff24 @laserlope

@auroraesmeraldarose @puckprimrose @dont-try-pesticide @cherifrog @circusofthelastdays 

@nourangul @crucibelle @fan-aaa-tic @listen-to-navi @spillthetaesissy @sammywasnthere

@vermililions @weaponizedvirtue @leucineinthesky

For Elinna, consciousness returned slowly. 

Her awareness drifted through a series of dreams and memories. It was often difficult to discern which was which. There were times she thought she came up for air, breaking through the surface of that abyss. But the allure of that quiet darkness was much too tempting for her to hold onto her wakeful state. 

She was just so exhausted. She simply wanted to sleep. Being awake was so burdensome–painful, even. 

There were blips of time she could catch in her hands, as if she was capturing minnows out of a stream of consciousness. Moments where her handle on the waking world was something more concrete and tangible. Moments where she could almost remember that she was meant to be awake. 

The sensation of having her hand tugged through the opening of a sleeve by small, gentle fingers.

An enormous elf smiling gently at her and encouraging her back to sleep as he carried her in his arms. 

The cautious hitch of her weight onto Gale’s back, his hands braced firmly on her legs; as if he didn’t want to let go; as if he worried he would drop her. The sound of his voice as he assured someone, “I’ve got her.”

The sarcastic drawl of a haughty, lilting voice that flooded her with icy terror.

But they were just impressions; a triptych carved in a relief that she couldn’t fully make out in the darkness of her dream state. 

But then something shifted. The darkness gave way to the feeling being swaddled in comfort and warmth. It had been so long since she’d woken up for a day, at first it seemed like her body had forgotten how to do it.

But along with the warmth came the awareness that she had something soft beneath her. A feather bed, her body told her; just worn in enough to hug the curves and weight of her sleep-heavy body. The feeling of being bathed in a stream of sunlight followed soon after. Warm, buttery sunlight; the kind best appreciated by cats sleeping in bay windows or lush gardens.

That same light streamed through her eyelids, shifting the once impenetrable darkness into a pinkish-red hue.

Then there was the sound of quiet talking–it was far away. In another room, perhaps. 

Then smells. 

The smell of something being baked or broiled. Something savory–like a pot pie or a stew. 

Her amber eyelashes fluttered, her eyes barely opening to let in the late afternoon sun. It was too much at first; she found herself having to squint her eyes shut and turn away from the brightness. Once she did, though, she was able to let her pupils adjust and take in the room around her. 

It wasn’t immediately familiar, at least not in the way her room was back in The Nest. In fact, her mind was still so addled that she couldn’t remember quite how she had escaped the old, dusty library she’d been raised in. But there was a certain familiarity in the trappings of an inn; a certain quality that seemed to accompany every place travelers stopped to get some sleep or even just a meal. 

Warm, stained wood. Light streaming in through leaded glass windows. A small stack of neatly folded bed linens sat next to the closed door. 

There were a total of six beds in the large room, though only four of them had anything on them. 

She was alone in the room, but she knew from the sounds filtering in from the floor below that she wasn’t alone in the inn. 

She listened for a little while, hearing the lazy strumming of a lute, the clatter of tankards meeting in some unheard toast. 

And piercing through all of it, ringing in her ears as clear as a bell, was the sound of Gale’s voice. 

He wasn’t talking about anything particularly important. If anything, he sounded a little distracted as he talked about his last inn he frequented; some place called The Yawning Portal. Despite that, Elinna found herself sitting up and looking toward the door.  

She climbed out of the bed she’d been so carefully tucked into, her legs wobbly with disuse as she took a few hesitant steps. 

Her head spun, the room spinning with it, but her feet continued to move seemingly of their own accord, anyway.  She made it to the door, clumsily fumbling it open and stumbling out to the hallway, feeling as if she was being led along by a string tugging her from the center of her chest.

Her thigh screamed in protest as she came to a set of stairs and loped down them haphazardly. At first she thought it was merely soreness, but as she walked she realized the muscle in her thigh wasn’t cooperating with her. It simply struggled to support her weight, as if the sinew and tendons were no longer woven together as they should be.

She lost her footing, slamming loudly into the railing of the staircase just as the main room of the inn came into view, some dozen or so people in the middle of various diversions startled and looked over at her. Music from the corner quieted 

She was no stranger to attention in an inn. On the contrary, she often encouraged it by standing on top of a table and taking requests for songs to be sung. But the quality of this attention—the way certain sets of eyes met her face first and then traveled down the lines of her body—felt uncomfortable. 

“What are you doing out of bed, young one?” a voice called from somewhere in the room. It was a low, gravelly timbre, but it was a friendly one. In her disoriented state, she was looking for comfort and familiarity like that, though she couldn’t place why that voice was familiar to her. It wasn’t Gale’s, it was someone else’s. Yet, all the same she sought it out. 

But then she saw him. 

Elinna swiftly forgot her search for the source of the friendly, deep voice. 

Gale was sitting at the bar, a tankard in his hand, half of his hair pulled up and away from his face. He was in yet another set of new robes and his knuckles were faintly bruised, as if he’d hit them on something. 

His eyes met hers at that very moment she found him, widening with surprise. 

She couldn’t help but think that he looked tired. His usually-tan skin was a bit wan and the fine lines around his eyes a little deeper than usual. His full lips were faintly parted, but somewhat paler than she was used to. Like he wasn’t feeling well. 

She found herself moving again, stumbling down two stairs at once, and he seemed to rouse from his momentary shock.

“Elinna, wait!” He said. 

He got up from his seat, his conversation and tankard forgotten completely as he hurried for the stairs. 

He made it there just in time to catch her, preventing her from a nasty spill down the remaining few steps and even more uncomfortable attention.

His arms supported her, one grasping the underside of her elbow, the other clumsily pressing into the small of her back as he held her close and hefted her back onto the soles of her bare feet. 

She realized with no shortage of embarrassment that she was dressed in nothing but her shift. She could feel the warmth of his arms–of his hands–seep through the thin linen of her chemise. The coolness of the varnished wood beneath her feet kept her anchored; kept her from imploding into embarrassment or some other secret feeling she didn’t want to acknowledge. 

“Mystra’s Elbow, you near gave me a panic. The last thing you need after everything you’ve been through is a tumble down the stairs,” He said, even his voice rumbling through the fabric of her shift. “Let’s get you back into the room–get you properly dressed. Hm?”

“I’m sorry,” Elinna said, her face warming with her flush. 

Gale shook his head. “Don’t be,” he said, taking a couple extra steps up and helping her right herself. Had he always been so strong? He seemed to move her with ease. “Let me help you back up the stairs,” he said.

“A-alright,” She said, a little flustered and even a bit confused. 

 Gale, at least in her memory, had always been a bit frantic when she had been underdressed; even a bit irate. She thought about the bath she took at The Perch and how tightly he’d asked her not to speak to him while she was bathing. But whatever had happened while she slept, he seemed unbothered by it now. 

Gale wrapped one of her arms behind his neck, using it to support her weight as he helped her up the stairs. His other hand braced her steps by curving around her waist. She looked up at him a bit dumbfoundedly as they made their way back to the room. 

“You seem… calm,” she said. 

Gale barked a laugh. “Oh, far from it. I’ve been a sleepless mess for half a tenday. The calmness you���re seeing, that’s all relief.”

His eyes glittered a bit as he gave her a tired smile. “It’s nice to see you up and walking around finally,” he said as he led her back down the hall. “I didn’t know how much I could miss a cheeky little upstart asking me questions.”

“I…am having a hard time putting together how we ended up here,” she admitted. 

“Understandable, considering you’ve been asleep for four and a half days,” he said.

“F-four days?!” She balked. 

“Indeed,” he said as he opened the room and nodded. “What’s the last thing you remember? Perhaps I can help piece together the rest.” He led her back to the bed she’d been sleeping in, gently helping her sit back down in the feather bed. Once he seemed sure of her stability, he turned from her and walked over to what she assumed was the bed he’d been using. His pack and the one he had lent her both occupied the space there. He went into her bag and drew out her garments before sitting down on the edge of his bed, facing her. 

Elinna pulled her duvet up and around her, not because she was cold, but because it felt a little strange to be sitting in her underthings alone with him by choice. The last time she was alone with him in a room, they had been locked inside of it by the scribes at the perch.  

It wasn’t that she felt uncomfortable; she knew that Gale wouldn’t do anything untoward and knew he wasn’t ogling her. All the same, it was a level of intimacy they hadn’t broached before this moment.

Gale was eyeing her patiently, and she remembered she was meant to be telling him what she last recalled before her four days of unsolicited rest. 

It took her a while to conjure the events that led to this moment, but she eventually did find that thread of memory that brought her to the alcove where she had been attacked by the elvish vampire. 

Her skin paled and she placed a hand on her neck, finding the wound scarred over. Her fingertips brushed softly against the ridges and dips of those scars, still quite deep despite being healed over. Her face reddened as she remembered the feeling of being fed on by her captor; the cool feeling of his tongue on her skin, the warmth coursing through her low belly and the tightening of her legs as her mind had drifted to thoughts of…someone else. 

She snuck a look at him as he seemed to look down at the ground. She would have to unpack the reasons her mind had drifted to him when she was in a state of hypnotized ecstasy at a later time. Preferably when he was far, far away and unable to see what it did to her to think about it. 

Gods, what was she doing?

“I’d been captured by a vampire spawn. He’d fed off of me and then…”

Gale’s tired eyes met hers again as he nodded patiently, waiting for her to parse it out. The events that trickled in from her recollection were foggy and drenched in fear. 

“I think I tried to lead him away—he wanted to go to an inn and I was worried he’d go on a rampage,” Elinna said. 

Gale nodded again, standing and bringing her clothes to her. 

“You were attacked by a phase spider matriarch. She seemed intent on delivering you to the goddess of torture and spiders, Lolth.”

“Wh—why?” Elinna asked as she went through her clothes. She lifted her trousers and found the gaping hope in thigh, one which had been mended with a little patch of black leather and stitches of golden thread. 

“I don’t know,” Gale said, walking back to his bed to sit there again. “Maybe her intelligence was lacking; maybe she mistook you for someone else. But she seemed to think you would be a worthy enough prize that she would be rewarded for her efforts. She poisoned you, and because your blood supply was already low, it almost killed you, Elinna.”

Elinna fumbled around in her things until she found her locket, sighing softly as she brushed the pad of her thumb over the outside of it. It was a wonderful comfort to handle something familiar. 

She inhaled to ask Gale a question, but when she met his gaze again, he looked… 

He looked like he was at death’s doorstep. 

His already wan skin had taken on a sickly, ashen color. The lines around his eyes seemed almost violet…or even grey…with exhaustion. She couldn’t be sure, but she swore she could see the faint sheen of a sweat breaking upon his brow. 

“Gale?”

He swallowed audibly and then grunted as he grasped the spot over his chest and doubled over. 

Was his heart giving out?! Had he been poisoned in his fight with the matriarch? 

“Gale!” she cried, standing up from her bed and hurrying over to him, her locket still clutched in her hand. “What’s the matter? Do you need help?”

“Yes, I’m afraid I do–” he grunted.

 “Wait here, I’ll see if there’s a healer downstairs,” she said, standing up and turning to leave. Modesty be damned. She wasn’t going to lose Gale again. 

But before she could get far, he reached out and grasped her wrist, stopping her.

“N-no!” Gale said, lifting his gaze to her and wincing. “It’s not an illness,” he said. “At least, not one that can be addressed by a healer.”

“What do you mean?” Elinna asked. 

Gale’s hand faintly tightened around her wrist, his eyes pointedly looking at her hand which still grasped her heirloom. He shut his eyes tightly and let go of her with a throaty noise, as if it pained him to release her. 

“I just…need to get my hands on a magic artifact,” he said. “I need to consume the weave inside of it.”

Elinna was silent for a moment as she watched Gale, crumpled and pale, gasping for air. She could only guess at his ailment, but it looked like it was extraordinarily painful judging by the pulse he had visibly hammering in his neck. She looked down at her locket and then back at him. This had come on when she brought out the locket…

There was magic in it wasn’t there? He could consume the weave in that. 

She had to admit, she was surprised at how easy it felt to consider handing it over. For the longest time she had only wanted to open it and find out where she belonged. 

But Gale was here and he was ill and she couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t abide the way that he looked as if he might lose whatever fight was raging inside of him. 

She turned to face him fully and then she simply held the locket out toward him, offering it face up in the bed of her palm, the velvet choker hanging off either side of her hand. 

He looked at it blearily before shaking his head. “You don’t understand,” Gale said. “I would have to consume all of its magic, Elinna. Your precious gift from your mother would just be an old piece of costume jewelry after I’m finished with it.”

Elinna nodded, teeth capturing her lower lip. “I do understand,” she said. “And I still want you to take it.”

Gale looked up at her, his brown eyes filled with some complex emotion she couldn’t guess at. “I haven’t even told you why I need to consume its magic.”

“I assume it’s because without it you’ll die,” Elinna said. “And that’s is plenty enough context for me to make the choice to give it to you. It may be important to me, but it’s not a life or death concern. Yours is.”

“And what makes you so certain that I don’t deserve what’s coming for me?” Gale asked. “You’ll just give this to me; the potential key to finding where you came from or where you’re supposed to be? Elinna it may just turn into dust after I use it. Everything you’ve done up to this point has been in service to opening this locket, and you’re just going to hand it over?”

Elinna felt her face warm. She knew he was right; that she was being perhaps a little reckless and maybe even placing her trust too much in him but…

She looked down at the locket and rubbed her thumb against one of the threadbare patches of fabric. One she had brushed her thumb over a hundred times when she lay in her bed at The Nest, staring out her window and wondering if her mother could see the very same stars that she saw. Wondering if she watched them arc across the night sky like she did. 

It was time to stop wondering about figments of imagination. That’s what her mother or any hope of a family was to her, after all. They were just dreams; idle speculations. 

Gale was right here before her in the flesh. He was real. And he seemed to care about her, if only a little.

“When I was seven years old,” she started, her voice sounding brittle and small. “I came down with some terrible fever. I never really learned what caused it. But I was vomiting and sweating profusely for days. My body started to give into its weakness and finally, I lost consciousness and got very close to dying.”

Her throat tightened as she recalled this time–a terrible memory that she’d fought hard to forget, or at least hide well enough in the dark recesses of her mind that she prevented it from haunting her. From making her become bitter and cutting herself off from the world. 

“I woke up cold and naked in the catacombs beneath The Nest. Just thrown onto a stone slab and left for whenever our undertaker could bury me in an unmarked grave.

“ I rolled off of it and after finding an old burlap sack to put over my body, I literally crawled up the stairs until I found one of the scribes. I reached out to him for help, asking for a bed to rest in and a cup of water. My mouth was so dry and tasted of rot. I just wanted a small modicum of care.”

Gale’s eyes met hers with some mix of emotion she didn’t feel ready to acknowledge. She looked askance, overwhelmed by the raw feeling in his face. 

“He was…disappointed…that I’d come back from the brink of death,” she said. “I don’t remember exactly what it was that he complained about. But I remember hearing it and realizing even as a child that when I died, no one would mourn me. I realized, in fact, that most of the people in my world would likely be relieved that I was gone.”

Gale’s warm, calloused hand lifted to cradle her empty one. She hadn’t realized she had balled it into a fist until his thumb smoothed over her white knuckles. She looked down at where her hand opened for him, and then looked at his face again. 

His expression was…so very sad. His brow curved upward as the corners of his lips drew down. 

“When…when that vampire captured me. You could have just left,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. 

“Only a monster would have done that,” he said. 

She shook her head. “No,” she insisted. “The scribes at the nest weren’t monsters, Gale. They were men. Men who griped about the weather–men who pinched my cheeks once in a while when I did something right. Men who read the local paper and slept peacefully at night. Even when a child lay dying in her bed.”

“But when I was taken away by that vampire…you looked for me. And when I was close to death, you found me a healer. And when I woke from four days of unconsciousness…”

Her throat tightened to the point of choking off her words. 

She didn’t want to cry, but she found her eyes filling with tears anyway. 

“When I came down the stairs, when I almost fell, you were right. There. Gale,” she said as two tears fell on her face. “You were right there putting my arm over your shoulder and helping me get back up the stairs. You could have abandoned me–hells you may have even considered it–”

“I didn’t,” he said fervently. “Not even for a moment.”

Elinna huffed a breath through her tears and looked down at her locket with a sad smile. 

“My mother couldn’t even spare the time to make sure the doorstep she dumped me on was still the temple she thought it was,” Elinna said. “Her negligence led me instead to being raised by men who either beat and ridiculed me me or ignored me to the point where I almost died.

“This locket…it used to represent a dream I had. A dream of finding even one person who would care if I was gone,” she said. 

She looked back up at Gale, extending the locket to him one more time. 

“I think…I think for now I’ve realized that dream. I know that you may still be rid of me as soon as we solve our ceremorphosis problem. I know that you may even think that it was my fault you wound up in this mess–”

“I don’t,” Gale interrupted. 

“The point being…” she said, giving him a sad smile. “I don’t need to know why you need this. I don’t need to know why you must consume magic. I already know what I need to know about you…that you’re a good man and possibly the first person who has ever given a damn about me at all. I wish I could say it was a harder decision to make. But the truth is, it isn’t.”

“My mother is a figment, my time as ward of The Scribe’s Guild is over for good,” she said. “Gale, you and this journey are my present. I don’t want to lose you for some idea of something that I may never have. I don’t want to throw away a sure thing in exchange for something that may never happen.”

She offered the locket to him and he slowly lifted his free hand to take it. He handled it like it was a pressed flower that might fall apart if he turned it the wrong way. 

“Thank you, Elinna,” Gale said. “You honor me with this sacrifice…I will be sure that you don’t feel the gesture was wasted on me. I will be sure to behave like the man you think that I am.”

Elinna smiled, her chest feeling…oddly light…as this heirloom that had been her focus for so long was finally taken off the lanceboard, as it were. 

Gale still held her hand as he pressed the locket to his chest and closed his eyes. 

The spot over his heart glowed. I shone a pale shade of violet as he consumed the magic within. A streak of light traveled from his chest, up the side of his neck, all the way to the corner of his eye as that Drow magic left its vessel, feeding whatever beast lurk inside of him demanding sustenance. 

As quickly as it had started, it was over. 

Gale’s complexion returned to the warm tan she was used to–his full lips pinkening once again. He almost looked…younger…even though the streaks of grey remained in his hair and peppered his beard. His eyes were once again bright; alert. 

Her Gale was back. 

He offered the locket back to her, his eyes holding hers, filled with emotion. “Thank you, Elinna,” he said. “You are a companion I didn’t deserve, but I am so lucky that you darkened my doorstep.” 

Elinna smiled, inhaling to speak. 

A faint clicking sound coming from Gale’s hand rendered her speechless. 

Gale and Elinna looked to the locket offered to her in his hand. 

Elinna swooned with shock, Gale’s other hand releasing hers to brace her at her waist again, giving her a little encouraging squeeze when he realized what had set her whole world on tilt.

The locket she had carried her whole life, the one she’d spent years trying to crack through sheer brute force or whispered tips in taverns sat waiting in his hand.  

And it somehow, had finally opened. 

Her locket was open. 

[nysocboy]

Gemstones Season 4 Finale: A special goodbye message from Aimee-Leigh

In March 2023, my partner and I subscribed to the streaming service HBO/MAX to watch science fiction programs like The Last of Us and Doctor Who.  He  also wanted to watch The Righteous Gemstones, a comedy/drama about "a famous and dysfunctional family of televangelists," but "No, thanks." After a childhood of preachers screaming "God hates you!" every Wednesday night and twice on Sunday, I thought that even a critique of evangelical homophobia would be too traumatic.

Then one day I was walking through the living room on the way to a snack, and I saw the Gemstones walking in slow motion toward Jason's Steakhouse: A nuclear family husband, wife, and kids; another male-female couple and their pregnant daughter; and, taking up the rear, a gay couple!  They were holding hands!  They joined the others at the dinner table with no recriminations, no stupid questions about "which of you is the man?", no yelling about the Book of Leviticus.  I was astonished.

Watching from the beginning, I found a show that was crass, vulgar, and often grotesque, with annoying plot holes and a complete disregard for internal consistency.  Plus it took forever for the showrunners to admit that Kelvin and Keefe were canon, resulting in endless annoying "they're really straight buddies" arguments. But once they were acknowledged, Season 4 became a masterpiece of gay inclusion, with their wedding the pivotal moment of the entire series.  

A gay wedding was the pivotal moment in a series about Evangelicals!

Plus: A more obvious romance between Gideon and Scotty.

Both Eli and Baby Billy have gay relationships in their past.

Queer coded characters everywhere.  Just when you think there couldn't be any more, they start dropping hints about Pontius. 

Two gay bands of brothers taken directly from Tom of Finland prints.

A near total absence of heterosexual activity, and almost no lady parts.

Nonstop beefcake.

P* enises in nearly every episode.  

Gay men were not only welcome at the table, the table was designed for them.  There has never been anything on tv like it.

Two years have passed, with two conference presentations, a scholarly book, two blogs with over 500 posts, over 20 fan stories, and endless fan discussions. And now it's time to say goodbye.  

The Series Finale features a goodbye message from Aimee-Leigh, for those viewers who found the show, and the characters, especially meaningful:

Saying Goodbye is Never Easy: During the Kelvin-Keefe wedding reception, while Eli watches everyone dancing, we hear the letter that Aimee-Leigh wrote to Lori years ago:

Saying goodbye is never easy -- it's not something I've ever been good at.  Sometimes it's easier to never say goodbye and just leave things where they lay.  Don't wrap it up all nice and neat.  

Hear that, fans?  We're not going to tie up every loose end.

The Grave:  Eli hugging Lori as she cries at Corey's grave.  

Don't look for closure in a goodbye.  We rarely get the closure we want. Most times we don't even get the closure we need.  Sometimes things happen and the life we knew is taken from us, just like that. It can happen fast.

I'll need a minute.

Hugging: Back at the reception. Eli grins at the people dancing and hugging.  Jesse and Amber hug.  Kelvin dances with Tiffany and Judy. Keefe hugs Baby Billy.  

Cut to Baby Billy, Tiffany, and the Nanny having a picnic. 

It's in those times you realize how precious friends are, family.  

The Gold Bible: The Siblings install the Gold Bible on a pedestal at the Salvation Center, in front of a video presentation about Aimee-Leigh and Eli's ministry.

How important it is to let Jesus' love find you through them so we can lift each other up. 

Gideon Finds His Place: Performing at the opening of the new Gemstone Christian Skatepark, Gideon is able to combine his interest in stuntwork and the ministry. Banners say: Christian Skate Summit.

A shot of Jesse talking to Vance was cut. Apparently they're on friendly terms.

Pontius and Abraham, with Ash on one side and Edge on the other, gawk at the stunts.  Now there are girl skaters; previously Pontius' group has been entirely male.  I'm calling it: he's bi. 

And Abraham's pink shirt: he's gay.  Prove me wrong. 

Aimee-Leigh continues: So we can fly even higher. 

Shot of Gideon flying high.

The Fireworks: At the reception, Kelvin and Keefe count down to the banner bursting into flame, followed by fireworks. Everyone applauds.  Closeups of Jesse/Amber, Gideon/Pontius/Abraham, Baby Billy/Tiffany, BJ/Judy, and Martin/The Nanny (wait -- are they dating?).  

Aimee-Leigh: When things change, it's easy to give into the darkness. When we hold on to the pain too tight, we lose the ability to grab the light.   Sometimes grabbing the light seems impossible, so let go.

Let go of the pain, not the light, right?

Eli watches for a moment, then turns and walks away.

His love is there for you always, just like I will be there for you. 

The Dark Night of our Soul: Cut to Lori walking along a path in the swamp, looking miserable.  And cold -- it must be wintertime, several months after the wedding (which she did not attend, but not due to homophobia, because Jesse killed her son).

Aimee-Leigh: Even if years go by and we lose our way to each other. know I'll always be waiting, ready to share my love.

Cut to Eli sitting in his dining room before a painting of him and Aimee-Leigh, the same shot that opened his plot arc in Season 1.  He reads the letter and cries. 

I'm here  whenever you need me.  Please don't ever forget that. 

Epilogue: "Somewhere in Florida," Eli on his boat.  Whoops, it's Lori, with luggage. 

"How did you find me?"

"You know I always got your number." Slip 69, har har.  

"I figured you could use a first mate."  Mate, har har.  

"Someone to point you in the right direction, when you get lost." The Gemstones pointed a lot of us in the right direction, when we were lost.

The end.

The full review, with n*de photos and supplemental material, is on RG Beefcake and Boyfriends.

[vulpinexi]

"Princesa, I brought ya somethin' to eat and drink," Grimmjow would place a tray he'd made himself down upon the table, or desk Orihime was studying at. The food was some flavorful homemade soup, full of broth, vegetables, noodles, and some sort of protein, likely tofu if there was some in the kitchen. The drink was a smoothie made with some fruit, and infused with the flavor of Sakura Blossoms. "It ain't really much... I'll have to go shoppin' soon, but it should help ya focus a bit longer."

If she fell asleep where she was sitting, he'd move her somewhere and cover her up so she could properly rest, or perhaps even hold her as she slept. She'd told him before that she found him comfortable. He didn't know how true that was, but he didn't mind it at all himself. He'd place a hand on her shoulder before leaning down and kissing her cheek. He wasn't really used to soft affection yet so a faint dusting of pink washed over the bridge of his nose, accentuating his dusting of freckles.

Overwhelmed   by   a   constant   sense   of   inadequateness,   she   immersed   herself   in   continuous   academic   work,   her   mind   consumed   by   the   imminent   exam   that   preoccupied   her   every   thought.   Her   bureau   had   once   again   succumbed   to   a   deluge   of   encyclopedias   and   unorganized   notes,   each   ink-smudged   paper   murmuring   equations   that   danced   SARCASTICALLY   just   beyond   her   perception.   Like   elusive   sand   granules   slipping   from   trembling   hands,   they   eluded   capture   no   matter   how   often   she   revisited   them.   Clinks   of   porcelain   broke   through   the   web   of   frustration.

Amber   eyes   flickered   at   the   plate   positioned   near   her   elbow,   accompanied   by   a   smoothie.   Aroma   swirled   toward   her—warmly   seductive   and   insidiously   tempting—provoking   a   low   groan   from   her   abdominal   region   in   candid   betrayal.   How   long   had   she   been   deprived   of   sustenance?   Subscribing   merely   to   ketchup-slick   fries   and   sheer   intransigence?   A   smile   unfolded   hesitantly   across   her   visage,   an   authentic   delight   lighting   up   her   features.

"Guess   I   can   survive   a   few   more   hours   without   resorting   to   drastic   measures,"   she   commented   with   laughter   mingling   faintly   with   shadowy   humor—a   jest   tinged   with   dark   edges   but   essentially   innocuous.   Words   barely   left   her   lips   as   something   impermanent   brushed   against   her   cheek—a   kiss   as   transient   as   a   summer   zephyr.   Instinct   took   over;   she   pulled   him   closer   without   hesitation,   fingers   grabbing   his   collar   firmly   enough   to   claim   his   lips   for   herself—this   gesture   offering   permanence   where   the   prior   had   provided   only   ephemerality.

"Now   I'll   be   just   fine."   Her   tone   had   mellowed   significantly   now,   teasing   imbued   with   warmth   as   she   let   go   of   him   to   rearrange   space   for   the   meal   awaiting   her   attention.   "It   smells   divine."   Orihime   leaned   back   into   contemplation   but   paused   as   reality   nudged   at   her   perception.   "Could   you   grab   some   stuff   for   me   when   you're   out?   There's   a   list   on   the   fridge,"   She   asked   from   absent-mindedness,   unfinished   errands   hovering   at   the   edge   of   her   mind.   "Oh—and   take   the   key   from   the   living   room   table;   it's   yours   now."

|| unprompted ; @desgarron ||

[mirandamckenni1]

Chappell Roan - Red Wine Supernova (Magician's Cut) Listen to "Red Wine Supernova" now: https://ift.tt/24pS03v Creative Direction by Ramisha Sattar Cinematography by Ryan Clemens Production Design by Sam Neidenbach Executive Producers: Gia Rigoli & Vero Kompalic Producer: Andres White Associate Producer: Grace Perkins Production Company: Discordia 1st Assistant Director: Julia Ponce Diaz Production Assistant: Frank Pfeifer 1st Assistant Camera: Jake O’Connor 2nd Assistant Camera: Justin Wall Key Grip: Alexander Barrett Gaffer: Em Shaffer Best Boy Grip: Ellia Thornburg Best Boy Electric: Tyler Maynard G&E Swing: June Bernardin Art Director: Amber Krieg Wardrobe Stylist: Genesis Webb Key Make-Up Artist: Chloe Gingold Make-Up Assistant: Nancy Lazaro Book Artwork by Jenifer Prince POST PRODUCTION Editor: Raven Peterson Colorist: Strack Azar VFX Artist: Anderson Mills Lyrics & Graphics: Ramisha Sattar CAST Magician: Magical Katrina Old Woman: Patty Sherman Management: Nick Bobetsky & Ruby Anton Island Records: Natasha Kilibarda & Liv Kooker Subscribe for more official content from Chappell Roan: https://ift.tt/s8BmVoE Connect with Chappell Roan: https://ift.tt/Cm52taL https://ift.tt/HsZIEjg https://ift.tt/aC5Id7o https://twitter.com/chappellroan https://ift.tt/ru3tCDi https://ift.tt/bGthW50 https://ift.tt/nu8R5IA #ChappellRoan #RedWineSupernova #MagiciansCut LYRICS She was a playboy Brigitte Bardot She showed me things I didn’t know She did it right there Out on the deck Put her canine teeth In the side of my neck I’m in the hallway waitin’ for ya Mini skirt and my go-go boots I just want you to make a move So slow down, sit down, it’s new I just wanna get to know ya Guess I didn’t quite think it through Fell in love with the thought of you Now I’m choked up, face down, burnt out Baby, why don’t you come over? Red wine supernova Falling into me (Let’s pick it up now) I don’t care that you’re a stoner Red wine supernova Fall right into me I like (I like) what you like (what you like) Long hair (no bra), that’s my type (that’s right) You just told me want me to fuck you Baby I will ‘cause I really want to I just wanna get to know ya Guess I didn’t quite think it through Fell in love with the thought of you Now I’m choked up, face down, burnt out Baby, why don’t you come over? Red wine supernova Falling into me (Okay y’all, let’s pick it up now) I don’t care that you’re a stoner Red wine supernova Fall right into me Well, back at my house I got a California king Okay, maybe it’s a twin bed and some roommates, don’t worry we’re cool I heard you like magic I got a wand and a rabbit So baby let’s get freaky, get kinky Let’s make this bed get squeaky Baby, why don’t you come over? Red wine supernova Falling into me I don’t care that you’re a stoner Red wine supernova Fall right into me via YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VS6ixn2berk

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Unlikely Places - Chapter 21 - Part 1

*Warning - Adult Content*

Chapter: 21 - Polar Opposites

An incoming email flashed in the lower right-hand corner of my screen.

As I did with all of Mr. Johnstone's emails, I clicked on it immediately.

Mr. Johnstone didn't contact me unless it was needed.

I liked that about him.

The least I could do was read and respond promptly.

I groaned as I saw another meeting had been scheduled for tomorrow.

Considering I never went to the office and was now going twice in a span of a week, I was a bit frustrated.

I wondered if this would be my new normal.

My mind immediately conjured an image of Pierce.

I knew I had him to thank for the alterations taking place in my work life.

They weren't impossible changes.

I could cope but they still irked me.

Why all of the sudden did things need to be different?

'Chicken'

Pierce's last text flashed through my mind.

What was his game?

I hadn't been brave enough to find out and now that two days had passed it seemed a bit farfetched to try and reply now to find out.

I had ignored the message and the implied challenge.

I had gotten brave and then backed off at the last minute when Pierce had responded with his irksome one-word provocation.

For the life of me I wasn't sure why I hadn't.

The need to protect his feelings from what I had wanted to say seemed silly now.

Pierce was a big boy and he certainly dished out whatever he was thinking.

Why had I hesitated to respond in kind?

He wouldn't have fired me.

Instead, his last reply of 'chicken' kind of made it feel like he had wanted me to speak my mind but of course, that was part of the problem.

I had never been the type of person to say whatever I wanted.

I subscribed to the old-fashioned theory of, if you can't say anything nice don't say anything at all and that just because I could doesn't mean I should.

Two concepts I felt sure Piece had never met in his life.

He and I were total opposites.

I was a lump of coal and he was the hidden bright and flashy bauble beneath.

He spoke his mind, I stayed silent.

He was elegant and refined, I was boringly normal.

He was elite and I was... well... not.

Polar opposites yet with an undeniable attraction.

It was tortuously confounding.

One minute I wanted to run and in the next I couldn't look away.

My body reacted to his presence.

My mind shied away.

My heart beat faster and my nerves screamed.

He affected every molecule of my being so that I could feel myself now in a way I never had before, layer by layer.

If that wasn't the very definition of discombobulating, I didn't know what was.

I sighed again, something I had been doing a lot lately as my tangled thoughts beat at me.

With determination I shrugged them off and went back to work.

Numbers I understood.

Numbers made sense.

Numbers held irrefutable logic.

I needed some of that right now.

***********

I arrived at the same conference room that we had met in before.

Mr. Johnstone hadn't met me downstairs this time as I now knew where to go.

I braced myself before turning the doorknob and stepped into the room.

I needn't have been worrying.

Pierce was not present.

"Glad you could finally join us," Vernon said into the silence.

I turned to look at him with a questioning frown.

I glanced at my watch.

I was five minutes early.

His tone implied I was late.

I stepped further into the room and noted everyone from the last meeting was present except for Pierce.

Mr. Johnstone gave me his normal salutation of a brief smile and Amber beamed a welcome my way.

TJ and Vernon's expressions remained the same as they had upon our last meeting.

Possibly even a little more unwelcoming if possible.

It was apparent within minutes of my sitting down that Vernon did not like me.

He clearly resented having to report to me.

I wasn't sure why it had been set up this way and would be glad to change the setup in a heartbeat.

Displays of outright dislike only made me tense.

My mind didn't function at its best as my anxiety tried to kick in in stressful moments like this and it slowed my ability to process in a way that made me uncomfortable.

Considering I was in a work setting where I needed my mind to be functioning one hundred percent, to say I was uncomfortable would be an understatement.

Mr. Johnstone directed the meeting and often cut across any of Vernon's irrelevant comments.

I felt he passed a few my way.

As the meeting progressed, I became more confused because what I had been sent had been a sketchy outline at best.

What they were discussing at great length were minute details I simply wasn't privy to.

It made participating in the conversation extremely limited.

Vernon appeared to derive pleasure from my inability to interact equally.

He consistently pointed out my lacking in understanding and the more the meeting the progressed the more muddled my thoughts became.

I could feel tiny fingers of disquiet walking up my spine.

It was frustrating and I strove to maintain my breathing so as to not to cave into its pull.

Doing so would risk my having a panic attack in front of everyone.

The thought was humiliating.

I could only imagine Vernon's smirking face as I crashed under the strain of such a simple meeting.

Measuring my breathing, in and out, I let the flow of conversation continue.

I blocked out the words and refused to allow them to upset me further.

Instead I re-grouped mentally of what I did know and I knew a lot.

Becoming more confident as I replayed the facts of what was said it soon became readily apparent, I had been set up.

I had been supplied with the barest minimum of information to purposely make me look incompetent though they were acting with Mr. Johnstone as if I had been supplied all and was up to date.

It was very simple and childish really.

I would have seen right through it if panic had not set in.

Though Vernon would have no idea I had anxiety, his shenanigans had almost worked because I did.

A small flare of anger ignited in my mind.

As I looked up and stared at a gloating Vernon who was now chatting even more expansively thinking he had won I did something I never had before with anyone that I could remember.

"So, as you can see...."

"No, I don't see," I butted in.

[bokauffmann]

Woodford Reserve Double Oaked

Bo: Hey there! I've been exploring the world of bourbons lately, and I stumbled upon something that caught my eye – the Woodford Reserve Double Oaked. Ever heard of it?

Oh, absolutely! The Woodford Reserve Double Oaked is a real gem in the bourbon universe. It's a unique twist on the classic Woodford Reserve, where the spirit gets a second round of aging in a new set of oak barrels. It's like giving the bourbon a double dose of character.

Bo: This Woodford Reserve Double Oaked sounds fantastic, but I'm curious about the distillery itself. Who makes it?

Woodford Reserve is crafted by the Brown-Forman Corporation, one of the largest American-owned companies in the spirits and wine business. They're based in Louisville, Kentucky, and have been around for quite some time.

Bo: Interesting! What's the history behind the company?

The history of Brown-Forman is a story of perseverance and innovation. Founded by George Garvin Brown in 1870, it started with Old Forester, which is actually the first bourbon to be sold in sealed glass bottles to ensure quality. This was a game-changer back in the day.

Bo: That's quite a legacy. How did Woodford Reserve come into play?

Well, Woodford Reserve itself was introduced in 1996, but the distillery's roots go way back. The site, known as the Labrot & Graham Distillery back then, has been producing whiskey since 1812. It's one of the oldest distilleries in Kentucky and is a National Historic Landmark.

Bo: Wow, so there's a lot of history in every bottle.

Absolutely. And that history is reflected in their commitment to quality and craftsmanship. Woodford Reserve is known for its small-batch production process, which includes a unique triple distillation in copper pot stills. It's this dedication to the craft that makes their bourbon stand out.

Bo: That sounds intriguing! What sets it apart from other bourbons?

Well, for starters, the color is a deep amber, almost like a rich honey. It's got this beautiful clarity and a viscous quality that clings to the glass, hinting at its full body.

Bo: I'm already picturing it. And what about the aroma? I bet it's got a lot going on.

You'd win that bet. The nose is a symphony of vanilla and caramel notes, with a backdrop of toasted oak. There's a sweetness there, like toasted marshmallows over a campfire, mixed with a hint of dried dark fruits. It's quite the invitation to take a sip.

Bo: My mouth is watering just hearing about it. So, what does it taste like?

The taste is where the Double Oaked truly shines. It's a rich tapestry of flavors – think of a burst of sweet vanilla and caramel at first, followed by waves of dark chocolate and dried fruit. There's a subtle spiciness too, with a touch of cinnamon and clove that balances the sweetness.

Bo: Sounds complex. And the finish?

The finish is long and satisfying. It leaves you with a smooth, creamy sensation and a lingering warmth that's neither too harsh nor too mild. It's the kind of finish that invites contemplation and makes you reach for another sip.

Bo: You're making a strong case here. But what about the price and availability?

It's positioned as a premium bourbon, so it's a bit pricier than your standard bottle. However, considering its unique double-barrel aging process, many would say it's well worth the investment. It's not the rarest bourbon out there, but you might have to look around a bit or check online retailers.

Bo: Got it. And if you were to rate it?

I'd give it a solid 9 out of 10. It's a must-try for any bourbon enthusiast and a delightful experience for newcomers to the scene. It's a bourbon that respects tradition while adding its own innovative twist.

Bo: Thanks for the rundown! I think I know what I'll be trying next.

Anytime, my friend. And for those watching, if you've tried the Woodford Reserve Double Oaked, share your thoughts in the comments below. Don't forget to like and subscribe for more bourbon, scotch or cigar reviews and discussions. Until next time, cheers to good sips and great company!

[sageywritings]

Scarlet Hearts and Blue Blades

“This must be the place,” Riley thought to herself.

“Where are we?” Sapphire said.

Chapter 8 of my RWBY OC fic Flames of Change! A bit of a longer entry to make up for the slightly longer wait time than the past few chapters. Check the pinned post on this blog for the chapter list!

Auburn Vulpes, Jack Vulpes, and Sapphire Hyacinth belong to me.

Riley Currant and Jade Meadows belong to @gruntnuker-rwby

Shiina Mori and Rin Aozora belong to @solar-moon-byul

Shadow Stalvinge belongs to @shdwsprtn11

“This must be the place,” Riley thought to herself. Amidst the placards advertising what brands of alcohol were served, a small glowing neon sign of a stitched up heart was all the confirmation she needed. The Scarlet Heart. She wasn’t supposed to be here for at least another hour. But, she spent all of last night either tossing around in bed or trying to give and receive comfort from Jade and Amber. After enough restlessness, she gave up and decided to get a head start on the day. Perhaps just that much sooner in finding Sienna. With a deep breath, she stepped inside.

The bar was dimly lit, helped only by the noontime sun pouring in from the windows. Patrons were scattered about the bar and booths. Most were there to grab a quick bite to eat during their lunch break or to socialize with nothing better to do. Some casually watched sports highlights from the previous night as they ate. But, even though the operating hours said that they hadn’t been open long, there were at least a couple people subscribing to the mantra “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” Riley surveyed the poster and memento laden walls. A lot of them were centered around boxing: old newspaper clippings of historic title changes and posters hyping pay-per-view main events. There was a pair of ancient looking gloves encased in glass next to one of the TVs, and above the bar was a title belt that Riley couldn’t figure out if it was real or a very convincing replica. It quickly became no surprise why Auburn asked to meet here. Just when she thought she was too early and needed to grab a seat and wait for the fox faunus though, Riley recognized a tail swishing around.

Bent over a pool table, Auburn had cue in hand lining up a shot. Riley could only hear the distinct clack of pool balls before seeing the maroon #7 ball rocket past her tail and into the corner pocket. On the other side of the table, a man with long black hair and marked with a large pair of eagle wings watched on holding a cue of his own. Both of the arms coming out of his black tank top were coated with tattoos. A bandana sat around his neck under a face containing thick stubble. It was a face that looked clearly vexed, which did not disappear as he turned his focus to the approaching Riley.

“You want next game or somethin’?” he spoke with a country accent. Alerting Auburn to turn around, she met her friend with a smirk and a familial head tilt.

“Sup Riley. You’re here early,” she said before staring down the 8 ball. “I was just killing time till you got here.”

“Yeah, well… wasn’t exactly getting much sleep last night,” Riley said with a shrug, trying in vain to repress a downcast sigh. Auburn stopped and gave her an understanding nod but quickly spun back around to the pool table. Nothing she could say could make Riley magically feel better. But while the lack of bother was normal for Auburn, Riley couldn’t help but feel put off by it. Like she could show just a bit more concern about the situation. “You seem… really calm given the situation we’re in right now.”

“Helps when you’re making money,” she replied with a chuckle. She smacked the cue ball, whic in turn met the 8, before banking off both a striped ball and the wall before coming to a slow roll and finding its new home in the middle pocket. Auburn sheathed her tool like a sword and outstretched her arms at her opponent. “Oooooh bad luck, Shadow. Double or nothing wasn’t so kind to ya. Doesn’t mean triple or nothing won’t be better though. Whattya say?” The man she called Shadow groaned and stared at the ceiling. After a moment, he went to a leather jacket that was hung on a chair behind him and withdrew a stack of lien out of the pocket. He tossed it on the table for her to quickly take and count.

“How about we forget the lien and forget the pool? Instead we hit up the dartboard and if I win, I get a date with you,” Shadow said. Auburn folded her arms. The urge to roll her eyes was so strong that Riley wanted to do the same just thanks to proximity.

“This isn’t the guy you brought me here for is it?” Riley leaned over and asked. She couldn’t break eye contact with Shadow. She was too amazed with his gall.

“Oh hell no,” Auburn said back while stuffing her winnings in her chest.

“C’mon, can ya blame me? I know fire’s hot but you’re definitely Au-burnin’ hot one,” he said with an unabashed grin that was as suave as he thought that pickup line was. Riley was getting Beacon flashbacks in both the best and worst ways. That was somehow worse than the beyond cheesy lines Dash tried out beginning of his freshman year, including one to her that was best left in the past. But, she couldn’t stop conjuring memories of her girlfriend seeing Auburn take a page out of Sienna’s playbook and use her chest like a pocket dimension. Suddenly, a cold, unshakeable grip locked onto Shadow’s shoulder and the outstretched wings tucked timidly. He tried to twist his way free of the hold, but it was no use. The man that emerged from behind Shadow’s wings stood a good several inches shorter than him, but looked tougher than anyone in Vacuo. His hair was nearly a full buzz besides being a bit longer on top, and he had a fuller beard than the eagle faunus. His wedding ring dug into Shadow’s shoulder blade. Once Riley saw the fox ears on his head that looked strikingly similar to the woman next to her, she smiled as it all made sense.

“Son, if you’re gonna have the balls to hit on my daughter in my bar, you gotta have a better opener than that,” the man said with a gruff, raspy voice. Shadow finally wrestled free from the vice grip and faced the other man, attempting to hide the discomfort and keep a straight face.

“Damn, Jack,” Shadow said while shrugging his shoulders to stretch them, “You woulda done the same thing back in the day in my shoes and you know it. Assuming, y’know, she’s not your daughter. Still, cut me a break.”

“Oh I did. I coulda went for the wings.” Shadow’s wings instantly folded as small as he could get them. Even if he didn’t fully believe Jack would do it inside his bar, there was still a chance. A greater chance considering it was Auburn he was messing with. It was one he couldn’t afford to take. He retreated to a booth, cutting his losses where they were and leaving Jack with both Riley and his daughter.

“You know I coulda handled that, Dad. He didn’t have a hope in hell,” Auburn said, hands on her hips.

“You've been saying the same thing since you were a kid. Usually it was about a fight you started,” he said back with a hearty chuckle. Auburn rolled her eyes and stepped up to her dad so he could pull her into a hug. For a moment, her eyes closed and her ears lowered as that nostalgia of being safe in her father's arms like when she was younger washed over.

“And was I ever wrong? And why do you assume I was the one that started the fight??” Jack released the hug so he could give her a look that could only be read as “Really?”.

“Are you really gonna ask that question? I've seen you pick a fight cause one guy took the last flaming hot cheetos out the vending machine,” Riley finally spoke up. Before Jack had the chance to question anything, Auburn cut him off.

“Dad, I want to meet a really good friend of mine. This is Riley. We hung out a lot at Beacon.” As she motioned to the redhead that was trying to stuff all of her exhaustion and anxiety away, Riley gave him the best smile she could muster. Jack almost let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh she's from Beacon, thank goodness. Hate to see who you drag in here off the streets.” Jack laughed harder when Auburn held out her arms in bewilderment at what they meant. Riley couldn't help but snicker at her expense too, even though she couldn't pretend like she didn't have plenty of Vacuoan street punk in her. “Hey, anyone that has to try and keep my battering ram in check is welcome here. Jacinth Vulpes, but my friends call me Jack.”

“Riley Currant. It's nice to meet you, sir,” she replied. Jack nodded as he made his way behind the bar and began wiping down the vintage bottles of liquor that adorned the back shelves. Meanwhile, the two girls claimed a pair of stools. Riley's body seemed to flop into her chair more than she sat in it. Auburn frowned.

“How are the others?” she asked.

“They're… going through the motions right now. Can't say they're great emotionally but we're all hitting that point where we wanna do something about all this. Amber's going to work today and see if there's any trace of Sienna from security cams around where she found you. And Jade is crafting battle plans as we speak. She won't allow herself to cry though. I think she needs one.”

“And what about you?” she said next after a slow, receptive nod. There was a long, poignant pause. Auburn found it harder and harder with each passing second to maintain her gaze.

“Well I’m here early cause I’m on garbage sleep, so that should tell you a lot. But I’m still here. I’m ready to do whatever I gotta to bring her home.” Auburn finally let her eyes fall away and kept her lips pursed shut. She couldn’t show any sign of the bubbling anger inside every time she talked about Sienna like some innocent victim, and not someone who made her bed for everyone else to lie in. Mercifully, her dad made the inadvertent save from behind the bar before the silence could reach awkward lengths.

“So is it a daydrinking kind of visit or are you girls just here to cure boredom?”

“Actually we came to see you,” Auburn came back with.

“Isn’t that a nice surprise? My daughter finally coming to visit. Whatcha wanna t-”

“We came to ask you something. Do you know anything about what the White Fang’s doing lately?” Jack was brought to a screeching crash of a halt. His shock froze him to the point where he had to set down the bottle of vodka in his hand because he nearly dropped it. With arms crossed, he eyed Auburn with insatiable suspicion.

“Whyyyy?” He carried that same concerned parent demeanor Auburn had heard hundreds of times in her life. “How many times have I told you not to mess with the White Fang?? Don’t touch them with a 50 foot pole.”

“Hey, I’m not the one messing with them!” Auburn held up her hands to show her freedom from guilt. “We’re looking for someone. And since Uncle Bren used to be in the Fang, I figured maybe he’s told you something.” Jack still didn’t look convinced. No answer Auburn could’ve gave would’ve eased his worry. 

“How did you even know he’s ex-Fang?” he said.

“He let it slip one time when he was drunk.” Jack closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with an exasperated sigh.

“Dammit, Bren,” he cursed under his breath before quickly snapping back to full volume. “You’re talking to the last person that would know anything about what they’re doing. Bren and I agreed a long time ago to keep that shit in the past. And if any Fang come in here,  I just let ‘em drink in peace. They don’t need me being nosy about whatever the hell they’re up to. Like they'd tell me anyways, and besides I don’t wanna know. As long as they don’t cause trouble, it’s whatever.” Auburn and Riley’s hearts both visibly sank. She knew it was a longshot, but she was still hoping it would yield at least an inkling of a direction to go. But instead, all it was earning her was a lecture. “Is this about that redhead from Beacon that was on your team that I’ve been seeing in the headlines lately?”

“Partially,” she responded in a half ashamed mumble. There was no use lying. There was only bracing for the coming speech.

“I thought you didn’t like him. Complained to me about how he was an arrogant jackass that could never back up how much he ran his mouth?”

“Still not entirely wrong. But… he's not so bad when you get to know him. And what kind of huntress doesn't stand up for her team when they do for her?”

“I know you've always thought you could take on the whole world with one arm behind your back, but you can't take on the entire White Fang. No matter how big of a crew you can make. They're bigger, they're much more dangerous, and they will not hesitate to put you down for being in their way, even though you're a faunus.” His sympathetic smile was little consolation to her. “Please, Auburn. Sit this one out.”

“Sir, this is not her fault. This is mine, I'm dragging her into this,” Riley finally interjected. Auburn wanted to object since this was her idea technically, but Riley wouldn't allow it. Instead, she fished her phone out of her pocket and rapidly began scrolling through her gallery until she landed on a picture of her and Sienna taken in Beacon's locker room. “Have you seen her pass by your bar? She was in Vacuo recently.” Spinning the phone to face him, Jack studied the other fox faunus she pointed to for a moment.

“Can't say I have, sorry.” Riley didn't even have the willpower to accept the scroll back from him. Her head met the countertop in dejection. Auburn was handling it better than her, but she still possessed a downtrodden look in her face, mainly out of concern for her friend. She moved a hand to rub her back but backed off as Riley lifted her head.

“Well fuck, there goes my lead. Now what?” Auburn said.

“Maybe you should get back to your pool game. Hate to pull you away from your priorities,” Riley chimed back.

“What’s that mean?” Auburn was taken aback. “I’m just trying to keep us moving forward here!”

“You just don’t sound worried! We have friends out there fighting for their lives and you’re just in here shooting the shit like it’s a night out on the town!”

“And what’s worry gonna get me besides a headache from slamming my face into the bar? Just cause I’m handling it better than you doesn’t mean I’m not worried! I’m trying to get Bubblegum back!” Riley cocked her head indignantly, like she was waiting for an end to a sentence that was already over.

“Only Dash?” The two’s looks turned more into glares at each other. Raising an eyebrow, Auburn waited as if she was permitting Riley to keep going, while Riley sat waiting for Auburn to do the same. Neither of them budged.

“Enough.” In the end it was Jack who broke the tense silence. Auburn winced and closed one eye, knowing that tone all too well. Similarly, his most common patrons recognized it as well, but it didn’t fully connect with Riley. “I didn’t call this bar for 12 Rounds for a reason. You wanna fight, then you take this shit to a ring. Keep it out of my bar, got it?” He fully zoned in on Auburn, too knowledgeable with what she was prone to causing. She was leaning away to avoid the stern daggers he was giving.

“Sorry, Dad,” she said loud enough for it to come across as meaningful.

“You’re not gonna give this up, are you?” He already knew his daughter’s answer. The question was more for the red-haired woman to the other side of him. One look at Riley and he could clearly tell the distress and anguish prevalent in her eyes through the bags of lack of sleep. It looked like the only reason she didn’t cry out with “Please” was to maintain appearances. He shook his head. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this. “Well. I heard from someone that there’s a Fang run soup kitchen just a couple blocks from here.”

“A soup kitchen?” Auburn said. Both girls perked up, Riley with more renewed optimism and Auburn with more perplexity. “What the hell are they running a soup kitchen for?”

“They’ve had it since the regime change, back when they were peaceful. A lot of the programs they started to help faunus back then they’ve kept up with.” Jack shrugged after placing a freshly polished glass under the counter. “Not everything is just black or white.”

“Alright, there’s our lead C’mon let’s go!” Auburn pumped her fist and immediately bolted from her seat. She stretched her arms out like the muscles on her biceps were getting antsy, itching for some work. Riley, however, hadn’t moved. She appeared deep in thought.

“Wait.” Auburn stopped in her tracks. “We can’t just storm in there right now, we’re not prepared.”

“You’re the one that wanted me to show more urgency!”

“Which you’re only doing cause you know you got a chance to start a fight!” Auburn was not a fan of today. She felt like she spent way too much time getting grilled. “You and I can't just go in there alone with no plan. We'll be in enemy territory unarmed. You don't even have your whip anymore.”

“I'm never unarmed as long as I have these.” Auburn held her fists up in a half-committed boxer stance. Riley and Jack mirrored head shakes.

“We need to wait for the others. Jade and Amber wanna help just as much as I do,” Riley said.

“I'm not even gonna ask what happened to your chain,” Jack said, causing Auburn to again lift up her hands with palms out like she was pleading innocence to a cop. Her pleas of “not my fault” did little to Jack, even though it was the truth. “Go see Uncle Bren,” he said through muffled fingers as his head landed firmly into his hand. Auburn rushed to him into a bearhug that would snap most in half, but it didn't even get him to stumble. He returned the favor. “Love you too, kit. And make sure to visit me again soon. We got some catching up to do. Same spot as old, alright?” Nodding the whole time, Auburn promised she would do just that in between a couple “love yous”. After Riley gave one last “nice to meet you”, the duo left out the door and down the street. In the direction of the junkyard.

MISTRAL

Somewhere deep in the Mistrali woods, two pairs of footsteps crunching leaves and twigs underfoot were the only rustlings of life under the canopy of trees. They moved lightly, briskly, but frivolously hopping over tree roots and ducking under branches. The trail was just a few miles long, if you could even still call it that with how much nature had reclaimed. But it was still a few miles Shiina knew like the back of her hand. She was even using her spear as an explorer would use a machete to cut back the encroaching vines and shrubbery. Meanwhile, Sapphire was too stunned by the raw beauty of the surrounding scenery to help contribute. Despite staying here for a little while now, this place kept finding new ways to endlessly charm her. It was such a far cry from the life she led at Beacon. Soon enough, their walk led them to a clearing in the trees, causing Shiina to stop and take in the view like they had just arrived at a grand destination, the hidden city of gold.

“Where are we, Shiina?” Sapphire said.

“Where the sun and the moon’s song never dies for those who listen for it,” she said with an intimate warmth in her voice. It sounded like someone reminiscing about feelgood childhood memories, like a favorite homecooked meal. After a brief moment, she shook off the binding spell of nature with slight embarrassment. “This is where I train. Or where I go whenever the tribe gets to noisy and I need to get away.” Sapphire was confused how that little village could be too noisy in any way. It was nothing compared to the nightclubs or concerts that dotted the urban maze she called home. But, she let it slide. “It’s been awhile, and I want to train with you.”

“You and me both, girl. Now I get why we’re somewhere so secluded. But I wish you told me sooner. I woulda wore something a bit easier to get out of.” Shiina tilted her head until the realization hit and a burning red blush overwhelmed her cheeks. “Oh. Oh you meant actual training, alright.” Shiina tried to glower at her fellow huntress, but it melted quickly. She knew Sapphire was joking even before her sticking her tongue out gave it away.

“Sapph, I’m serious,” Shiina said while desperately hoping her blush would subside. It wasn’t going away nearly fast enough. If Sapphire really wanted to fluster her, she would’ve answered with “so was I”. But she resisted the urge, and again let the moment pass. “I know your bow transformers into a glaive, but you seem hesitant to use it. Why?”

“So this is why you told me to leave my arrows behind,” she said before a thoughtful pause. “I dunno though. I guess it’s because with my team, Dash and Auburn covered the close range, so they left me to handle the sniping. I just feel like I’m a better archer.”

“Which is fine until you’re without your team and a Beringel trucks you through a wall.” Sapphire bowed her head in acceptance. Her recovery was going well, but her back and shoulders were still sore from that. Shiina was more shaken up having to witness it. Someone would think she was the one getting run over by a rampaging beast. “There’s nothing wrong with being a better archer, the things you do with arrows are incredible. But the best huntresses in my opinion use every tool they have at their disposal. So I think you have to level up your spear work.” Recoiling a little, Shiina grew anxious that her words came across too harshly. But Sapphire was too focused on the authenticity of her admiration. She nodded and readied up, glaive in hand straight up and down with blade pointed to the sky. Shiina smiled. “Alright, let’s get started! So your glaive is a guandao. Not too far off from my naginata except mine is built with a thinner blade for more speed, whereas the guandao has a wider blade for more stopping power. So for the guandao, it came into use-”

“Speaking of training, how's yours coming with your semblance?” It took a moment for Shiina to recover from the whiplash of her flow of consciousness suddenly crashing. Sapphire was too restless for an entire history lesson.

“Oh uhhhhhh I haven't really made much progress lately. Supposedly I can conjure from tattoos on other people too, but I can't even master my own,” the inked fox faunus said. In the held out palm of her hand, a small garden snake inched along before fading away as she folded her arms across her chest. Her shoulder hunched forward slightly. Her gaze fell to the shine emanating from her blade. Sapphire didn't have an opportunity to inquire why before Shiina spoke once more. “I'll stop boring you with the history details. Let's just get into the combat, shall we?”

Sapphire couldn't argue, even though remorse of ruining the mood started to creep in. Shiina took center stage. Every strike she demonstrated had a light, airy flow to it, almost as natural as the landscape they sat in. It was as if the essence of the forest was channeling through her, culminating at the tip of her blade. Then it was Sapphire's turn. As Shiina pointed out, her weapon provided slower, heavier strikes. But, without a quiver full of arrows weighing her down, she could really let loose with some impressive footwork of her own. Some more acrobatic swings she made look effortless. As she moved, Shiina couldn't help but notice the muscles on Sapphire's back that were generating a lot of her power. She assumed the tone was from having to constantly pull back the bow string. She had to remind herself not to stare.

“Very nice, Sapph. You're looking good,” Shiina said. After though, her face contorted with regret. “I-I mean your moves were good! I mean your footwork and your strikes were-aaaahhhh.” The sentence stumbled along until the last few words barely petered out into a discomposed noise.

“I was hoping you were talking about me more than the fight moves, but thanks for the compliment, boo,” Sapphire giggled. She wasn’t thrown off by Shiina’s minor meltdown; she thought it was quite cute in fact. Shiina knew that too, and knew that was why she egged her on. The bushes to the west of them began to rustle. Neither of them paid any attention at first, writing it off as the wind. But, it grew louder without any accompanying breeze. Then, a low, rumbling growl reverbed through the forest. They both froze on edge. “Y’know Shiina, if you’re hungry you could’ve said something and we would’ve headed back early.” Her voice carried no confidence in the joke.

“That wasn’t me.” Shiina’s eyes locked to the bushes as they both gripped their weapons tighter. Their suspicions were confirmed when they could see several pairs of demonic red eyes peering through the darkness between the trees. Slowly, a pack of beowolves crept out of the gloom, prowling on all fours. Now revealed in the light, the growling grew louder until the pack leader stood up on its hind legs and snarled.

“Again? What is it with the grimm lately?” Sapphire said.

“I didn’t mean for today to be a trial by fire,” Shiina remarked as she spun her weapon into a ready position.

“Shouldn’t be a problem. Just watch.” With a subtle wink, Sapphire took off in a sprint toward the intruding grimm. Just before she reached them, however, she planted her glaive into the ground and, swinging around it like a pole, drove her boots right into the alpha’s head with a dropkick. A quick followup slash to stagger it freed her to begin tackling the rest of the pack. Shiina was almost temporarily stuck in place appreciating the unorthodox offense before snapping out of it and rushing in to lighten Sapphire’s load. Using the shaft of her naginata, she was able to block and parry a big swipe that was aimed at Sapphire from behind from one wolf, leaving it wide open for counterattack.

The two moved not only like they were connected with nature but also in rhythm with each other. When one needed to step away, the other would step in and take the heat. They would slide under each other and jump over each other. It was all immediate, seamless, and speechless. One by one the creatures all started to fizzle away into black smoke. One beowolf in particular they locked onto at the same time. They blitzed their target, criss-cross cutting it and leaving it nothing more than a hazy black afterthought. But just as that formation ended, the alpha was back on the hunt. It charged through Shiina, clubbing her in the face with a forearm that sent her flying several yards back. Then, in a full gallop it plowed into Sapphire, its massive claws pinning her to the ground by her shoulders. The attack knocked her spear out of her hands and out of reach.

“Sapphire!” Shiina yelled as she sat up. PTSD of their last grimm encounter wracked her mind. Last time she was left unconscious and helpless. But this time, Sapphire was awake, groaning and struggling in pain but still fighting. From Shiina’s point of view, it looked like she was trying to reach her boot, but the beowolf’s grip dug her harder into the ground as she did so. The claw raised up and began coming down right at Sapphire’s face. Right as it did though, Sapphire was able to grab a frost arrow she kept hidden in her boot. Letting out a primal yell, she stabbed the creature. With the tip broken, firmly lodged in its ankle, the grimm suddenly became entrapped in ice mid-swipe. Wasting as little time as possible, Shiina ran in and delivered the killing blow, shattering the newly made ice sculpture into pieces with one drive into its chest. Sapphire sat up and dusted herself off.

“I told you no arrows!” Shiina chastised after a second to catch her breath and her thoughts.

“You also said the best huntresses use all their tools at their disposal.” Again, Shiina couldn’t argue with her even if she wanted to. “Got ya there!” She smiled softly. She was just thankful this brush ended better than the last one. But as helped the archer up, Sapphire noticed Shiina still looking concerned. Her stare was fixed on the spot of the forest where the grimm originated from. “What’s wrong?”

“These grimm attacks are happening more frequently. And they’re coming from the opposite direction they usually do. The grimm usually come from the east, deeper in the woods. But lately they’ve been coming this way. In between our village and the bigger towns in the area.”

“Hmmmmm something must be attracting them. Something worth investigating?” Shiina responded with a determined nod. “Sweet! I’ve been wanting to hit up the town anyways, got some catching up to do with city life. Maybe we can try contacting our teammates again.” Those towns still couldn’t hold a candle to the major cities in the kingdoms, but it would still be enough for Sapphire to scratch her itch. “But that’ll have to be saved for another day. It’s getting late, we should head back.” She had no desire to trek back through that “trail” in the dark, even with a guide who knew it like the back of her hand like Shiina. So on that, Shiina led the way back home, right as the sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon.

VACUO

“Yo Uncle Bren, you home?” Auburn unceremoniously crashed the silence that the junkyard office was sitting in. But, none of the rusted wrecks around her answered back. All she could hear was the feet meeting metal steps, both hers and the ones of Rin behind her. They approached the door and Auburn knocked on it loudly several times only for nothing to happen again. Only then did she see the handwrittennote taped to the window next to the junkyard’s logo.

“Auburn. Sorry I missed you. Jack told me you were coming. Door’s open. You know where everything is,” she read from the letter. “Sweet!” She opened the door and stepped inside, with Rin following much slower as she took in the new scenery. Beyond the table and usual basic office furniture, there was scrap metal everywhere. Junk and broken bits and pieces all cluttered into various piles around the room. Some were rusted like their prime was an era ago, while others looked newly refurbished to the point of appearing fresh out the factory. Various machines that did said refurbishment dotted the outer walls of the room. It looked like a mess at first, but somehow also seemed like everything had a place, a method to the disorganized madness. Meanwhile, smaller tools like hammers and wrenches and a welder’s mask sat scattered on the table next to metal that was being fashioned into blades and gun barrels.

“Jeez, time to have a garage sale, don’t ya think? Clean out some of the old energy, y’know?” Rin said with a soft chuckle.

“My uncle recycles all this stuff and crafts weapons out of it. By the time he’s done, you would never guess the stuff he makes came from crap people threw out.” Auburn crouched down and started digging through some cabinets, tossing things like gun magazines and blade handles over her shoulder. “Ugh c’mon where is it?” she groaned to herself. As Rin casually strolled around the room, she came across a stack of several schematic papers on one of the counters. They looked like current works in progress. Rin was amazed someone could pull all this together from trash nobody else saw use in.

“Wow. So he made your whip?” Rin asked while beginning to scan through the stack of blueprints.

“Oh hell no. He made me build it myself. He just kinda lightly supervised while drinking to make sure I didn’t set anything on fire. But.” She kept searching as she talked, knocking over a whole nearly finished sword accidentally in the process. “He’s got a spare prototype that he kept around here somewhere in case something happened to mine. I doubt he got rid of it. Unless he found something else to use it for.” As she kept rummaging, Rin stopped to study one design that caught her attention.

“Would he be mad if I used some of his tools to make some adjustments to my gauntlets while I’m here?” she said.

“Knock yourself out.” Auburn again didn’t move her head away from her task. Once she saw the glint of a bladed chain under a stack of other collected items that didn’t have a set place, her crimson eyes flared with excitement. “Aha!” She yanked it free, toppling the stack over carelessly. But, out with the chain came a piece of paper tied to it. There was a design hastily sketched on it in permanent marker.

“Ohohoho Uncle you are a genius you know exactly how I think!” Rin’s ear flicked and she tilted her head, only momentarily pausing her search for a machine that could play with steel. “Let’s just say imma need a minute to work too.” The time over the next hour or two didn’t so much as tick by as it soar by. The clanging of tools meeting metal, the sparks flying, the tossing aside of pieces that wouldn’t fit for ones that may. Auburn and Rin putting whatever mechanical know-how they had to use coalesced until they hit the point where they could stop and applaud the fruits of their labor. Auburn’s phone blowing up with calls and messages was the sole thing signaling to them how much time had passed. Jade’s name underneath a caller ID photo of a rose wrapped in thorns faced her.

“Sup Jade,” Auburn answered the call. “Yeah, sorry we got caught up working on something … You’ll see … “Alright, yeah we’ll be right there. Fill us in when we get there … Alright, bye.” She quickly stashed her phone. “They’re ready. You ready?”

“Let’s do this!” Rin eagerly punched her fist into her other hand. The pair loaded up and hurriedly left the junkyard behind, Auburn barely remembering to lock everything up they were leaving so quick. Their next stop was this soup kitchen Auburn’s dad had mentioned, where Jade, Amber, and Riley were waiting, planning for whatever could possibly come next.

[gossiptrends]

Revealing the Truth About Selena Gomez's New Album! | Gossip Trends

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[splendsay]

the dirt beneath her fingernails

excerpt from no. 10 | silver sinew

"A line?" 

Merc's question caught Nora so off-guard, she could only manage to sputter his words back at him. 

She waffled between fury and interest. 

She was flustered. Indignant and perplexed. 

He'd spoiled her thing. This was her room to clean.

He wasn't supposed to be here. 

He was supposed to be off galavanting about the woods, stewing over his lot in life. 

Instead, he was here. And had been here, from the looks of it. There was a stack of books neatly piled at his feet. His rifle sat propped in one corner of the room. The blanket on the sofa beside him was rumpled from recent use.

He’d hidden from her. Here.

After insisting that she needed to train — more specifically that she needed to train with him — and then up and disappearing for a week.

More than a week.

Allowing her to mull and stew and fret over her choices. Alone. 

It was rich. It was insulting. 

It was fucking outrageous.

Something in Merc's face twitched, and Nora's flames guttered — just a hair. 

She picked at her thumb, not sure what to do with her hands. She took a sharp inhale in through her nose, and released it. 

The gravity of his amber eyes was gentle, if heavy. 

It wasn’t quite scrutiny that she felt from them. It was assessment. She returned it, though not intentionally. 

She watched as he set his book down on the sofa beside his leg, flipping it over to keep his place, and folded his hands in his lap. 

He wore what she'd last seen him in — black everything, boot to mask — but he'd combed his hair. It was coiffed neatly, almost like he had mousse in it. 

He looked rested. Clean. 

He had spoiled her thing. 

But, how curious that, after more than a week of wondering, she’d finally found him. Alone, in what was apparently his personal library. 

Reading, of all things. 

As though the world outside this room didn't exist.

She felt a flicker of envy at that thought.

And then, she felt mad all over again. 

-----

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[tonyglowheart]

rewatching that Annihilation and Decoding Metaphor video again and like.... honestly interpreting Annihilation through metaphor sounds so much more meaningful than treating it like a literal alien. Like, the idea that the people around us impact us in little ways that maybe we don’t realize is a concept I see posts about on tumblr a lot (e.g. the one about how you may still listen to songs introduced to you by ppl you are no longer friends with, or your password might be your childhood friend’s birthday, etc etc), and like the idea of to live is to change, and also reminds me of the video on Latin where they were saying how codifying it rendered it immortal but also rendered it dead, which. will potentially lead down other lines of thought that stray from the point, though they are interesting. Anyway. Yeah, the ouroboros tattoo as a physical manifestation of the ways in which we as living being absorb aspects from our environment and people around us, and how it, like, doesn’t actually matter where it’s from. but also serves to illustrate an interesting point about, like... osmosis I guess? that it’s not just “the impact someone had on you started with them and ended with you” but that there’s a lineage behind that, and a potential lineage out of you after that, and that the like heartbeat of it impacting spreading changing is what makes it - and you - alive.