#it was a long time ago in terms of life perspective

[justaz]

merlin places all his friends to rest in avalon. first freya, then lancelot, then arthur, then gwaine. and then the rest of the knights when they pass along with gwen. freya and co spend time together in avalon but freya is the lady of the lake so only she has the power to manifest herself to merlin. she does so when he comes to visit. she tells him that all his friends arrived safely in avalon and are resting peacefully, recovering from their lives. merlin passes her messages that she carries to the rest and they pass her messages which she carried to merlin.

its a few years later when freya manifests and asks about morgana. merlin isn’t a fan of the conversation but freya says that they’ve all made progress with themselves and each other and have kinda sat back and viewed everything that happened from and outside perspective and gwen wants her best friend and arthur wants his sister to have that same chance, they can’t bear the thought that she’s wandering the forest, driven mad and in pain. they ask that merlin puts her to rest. she’s been tormented enough in her life, she deserves a chance at rest and peace.

merlin begrudgingly treks out to the spot where he stabbed morgana and gathers her remains to carry the bones to the lake. he puts her to rest. freya thanks him and keeps him updated on her progress, it’s slow going but arthur, gwen, and leon want their morgana back, the girl who fought for what was right and just, damn the consequences. years layer freya shares how morgana is more akin to the young girl they described from all those years ago. merlin cries and finally mourns his friend.

morgana’s apology is carried by freya and merlin’s apology is carried back. her first request is for mordred to be put to rest in avalon as well. arthur seconds the request. the knights echo the same sentiment for their brother in arms. morgana tells freya where she buried him and merlin follows her directions and finally puts him to rest in avalon. freya tells him that mordred sobbed when he realized emrys put him to rest, he had thought that bridge was forever burned. merlin will never admit it but he definitely shed a few tears for him as well.

all his friends are together now. at rest. in avalon. more and more years pass but merlin’s health never declines. he’s old, too old, past 100 now at this point. yet he lives. he thinks it might be a cruel joke played by the gods but man can’t live forever so it’s only a matter of time. more and more years pass and he still lives. out of morbid curiosity, he closes himself and imagines himself as he was when he first arrived in camelot. at once, all his aches and pains melt away, his skin tightens, his beard and long hair shrivel up and when he peers into a looking glass he barely looks 20.

a cruel joke by the gods indeed. all of his friends are at peace, resting in avalon, and merlin will never join them. he will remain walking the earth until the end of time or when the gods deem his punishment fulfilled. he will never see his friends again. not unless they rise as the dragon said, but merlin has since come to terms with the fact that the scaly bastard is as manipulative as they come. he may have been lying about that too.

as more time passes and magic begins to fade from the minds of men and they turn to science, pillaging the environment of it’s resources and pumping it full of pollution, freya finds it harder and harder to manifest until she all but can’t. merlin sits by the lake for days without moving and she never appears. the world is different now and merlin is all that remains of albion. camelot fell centuries ago and invaders conquered the isles and made it their own. merlin is all that remains. he is completely and utterly alone.

[mages-internal-dialogue]

I lay on their bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. They sat next to me, once again pestering me about helping them study for some sort of upcomming math exam

"C'mon, help me out. Everyone knows you're a genius with this stuff."

"While I can technically be classed as a genius when it comes to a lot of things, I think the word your looking for here is prodigy, since you're asking for my help with math."

"What's the difference?"

"Geniuses create and discover new things nobody considered before, prodigies are essentially just really good at absorbing and recreating the information that's already there."

"Geez, you really are a nerd."

"I do suppose that sounded rather nerdy, but it's just something I read in a book a really long time ago. I prefer the term geek, nerd implies a level of intelligence that I haven't felt myself possessing in a really long time," I replied, tears of frustration welling up in my eyes.

They laid down next to me and pulled me into their chest. "It'll get better, I know it will. You just have to be patient with yourself. One day you'll figure it out, you'll find your spark again."

I snuggled deeper into them before replying, "Thank you, though it's hard to see it getting any better right now. I suppose I can at least help you study for your math test. I must warn you, though, I am a bit rusty so I may need a refresher."

[cakemoney]

i don't want to put my uninformed foot in my mouth or get involved with the Discourse but i've been seeing the two extremes of reactions to the korean low birth rates issue (on tumblr and twitter both) and i'm just kind of like. look. i feel like "low birth rates (in many countries but especially japan and korea as part of this conversation) are more broadly the result of capitalism/a culture of overwhelming overwork that makes social relationships and having families incredibly inaccessible to young people" and "low birth rates are very much a part of the current conversation about misogyny and social expectations for women in korea especially in the context of reproduction as 'unpaid labor' for women" are statements that can both be true

[indigovigilance]

The Final Fifteen is about Terry Pratchett's Death

read on Ao3

The final fifteen is obviously a major plot point, and serves a role in a story that was written long before Terry Pratchett was ever diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. But the scene itself wasn’t written until just a few years ago, during the writing of Season 2. In fact, the scene came about during a park bench conversation between Neil Gaiman and John Finnemore.

Others have noted that the non-romantic kiss that signals the story moving into the third act is a Neil Gaiman staple. The function of such a kiss, from Gaiman’s perspective, is to communicate.

In 2023 we are seeing a lot of stories written by men, for men, about men who are best friends and discover that their friendship can go deeper than the norms of society would usually allow; that platonic and romantic love are not so far apart, and perhaps the better word for a relationship that can be described this way is intimacy.

Neil Gaiman has made it clear in interviews that his friendship with Terry Pratchett was deeply intimate. They began collaborating on what would become Good Omens in the 1980’s, endured a tumultuous experience together through the first publication, wherein Neil offered to martyr himself on behalf of Terry if the book failed, and then spent the better part of two decades touring the world, meeting the people who loved their work. Neil would even off-handedly remark that Terry’s fans were so cheerful, and Neil’s seemed like they were ready to kill themselves; wouldn’t it be nice if they got married? From the outside, it looks very much as if Terry was Aziraphale-coded, and Neil was Crowley-coded, working together in an unexpected partnership to make the world a little bit more tolerable for the humans inhabiting it. I am not conjecturing that Neil and Terry had romantic inclinations the way their fictional characters do, but I think it is fair to say that their opposites-attract intimacy became an important part of who each of them were.

In 2007 Terry Pratchett was diagnosed with posterior cortical atrophy, a rare form of Alzheimer’s. As the disease progressed, he began to lose himself, and knew that the person he used to be was slipping away. He wanted to end his life on his own terms, and die as himself, but England did not and still does not allow for voluntary euthanasia or assisted suicide. He advocated for the right to die but never achieved it, and ultimately succumbed to the disease in 2015. Neil Gaiman has spoken a lot on the topic of death, and one answer of his that resonated with me reads:

Mostly it feels terrible. It even feels terrible when it’s someone who has been in a lot of pain for a long time or has not really been there for a long time and you know that Death has in some ways been a blessing: suddenly you are mourning the whole person. 

It doesn’t get easier as you age. It gets stranger. The point where you realise how many people you used to know and like who aren’t there any longer, and you cannot talk to them or see them or laugh with them is painful in a way that I had never expected. The first time that someone you had a romantic relationship with dies and you realise that there had been moments both of you shared and now you are the sole custodian of those moments and one day you will be gone and they will be lost forever is peculiarly strange and hard. 

~~~

The entire show is seeded with references to Terry Pratchett, but the most important one is the one that’s missing. Neil Gaiman cameoed as a sleeping moviegoer in S1E4, but a long time ago, he and Terry had discussed cameoing as sushi restaurant-goers, because sushi was weirdly prominent in the book. That cameo would have been in S1E1. But when it came time to do it, Neil couldn’t. Not without Terry. 

Neil: I was gonna say our location is a Chinese restaurant we’d had turned into a sushi restaurant. So Terry and I, Terry Pratchett and I, had a standing… not even a standing joke, just a standing plan, that we were going to have sushi - there was going to be a scene in Good Omens where sushi was eaten and we were gonna be extras, we were gonna sit in the background, eating sushi while it was done. And I was so looking forward to this and, so I wrote this scene with it being sushi, even though Terry was gone, with that in mind and I thought: Oh, I’ll sit and I’ll eat lots of sushi as an extra, this will be my scene as an extra, I’ll just be in the background. And then, on the day, or a couple of days before, I realized that I couldn’t do it.

Douglas: You never told me this before either. I might have pushed you into doing it, had I known. I think you were right not to tell me.

Neil: I was keeping it to me self ‘cause I was always like: Oh, maybe I’ll be… this will be my cameo. And then I couldn’t. I was just so sad, ‘cause Terry wasn’t there. And it was probably the day that I missed Terry the most of all of the filming - it was just this one scene ‘cause it was written for Terry and all of the sushi meals we’d ever had and all of the strange way that sushi ran through Good Omens.

~~~

In the Final Fifteen, it is clear that Crowley and Aziraphale want to stay together. They love each other. They each know that the other loves them. There’s nothing that needs to be said, no convincing that their bond is true and real and precious.

But Aziraphale has to go to Heaven, and Crowley cannot follow him there.

I cannot speculate what it must have been like for Neil to endure losing a friend who, though I’m sure he desperately wanted to still be in his life, he also knew that life had become a burden to him, and grieved that Terry was not able to choose the time and manner of his departure from this Earth. This sort of complex grief, we fan-ficcers know, is the kind that is often best processed through story-telling. 

I think that what we see Crowley going through in the Final Fifteen, alongside its importance to the story arc of Good Omens overall, is Neil processing his grief at losing his friend Terry Pratchett, and even the kiss, that violent, terrible, awful kiss, was the symbolic representation of Neil saying goodbye.

[raayllum]

EZRAN: Prince Karim, all Queen Janai wants is peace. There's no need to attack. Take your army, the people who follow you, and build your own future somewhere away from here.

KARIM: But I agree with you. There is no need for violence today if my terms are met. EZRAN: Your terms? Prince Karim, I may be a child, but I know how to count. Janai's five armies are more than your one. The Queen expects to defeat you decisively. KARIM: And I expect my sister to surrender unconditionally and acknowledge me as the High King of the Sunfire Empire. EZRAN: I don't think— KARIM: And all humans will leave our lands immediately, and return to the other side of the border. Where you belong. EZRAN: You can't force the humans to leave. People have made friendships, built families. Your own sister is marrying a human! KARIM: I know this must seem harsh to you, but... history cannot be forged without fire. Without strength.

EZRAN: I am a king. And as a king, I choose love over strength. Sometimes it's hard, but when I struggle, I think about the people I love and how they are counting on me to do the right thing. Not the harsh thing, not the strong thing. The right thing.

KARIM: But she will always be my sister. EZRAN: Then you can still choose love. It's not too late. KARIM: The great Archdragon of the Sun was faced with a choice long ago. He chose fire. I honour Sol Regem now, as my sister should have done when she had the chance. [...] EZRAN: You want Janai to attack! And when she does... you'll call down Sol Regem and—they won't stand a chance! KARIM: Ah. Humans might be more clever than I thought. I don't need five armies when I have one archdragon.

A few notes, as always:

Karim, when nudged by Miyana, acknowledged in 6x02 that what they were doing, they were doing "for us" and "for [their people]" and I think in a lot of ways, like Viren, that's what it initially started out as. However, here we see most clearly that this is about Karim's ego (shocking, I know) and pride. He wants to be king of this land, he wants to crush and restore 'natural order' to Xadia by expelling humans again. Just having this own followers and his own piece of land elsewhere isn't enough, even though it would be if his people's happiness was all he cared about.

Ezran offers a variety of options and perspectives to Karim to appeal to him — you could leave peacefully with your people, you can make active choices, don't you love your sister? — the latter of which being the only one to really get under his skin. I also like seeing Ezran advocate on behalf of his citizens (and possibly others) who have been integrated into Sunfire society and daily life. Karim wants to return Xadia to being wholly divided, but Ezran — like Janai, and Amaya, and the bulk of the main cast — want reintegration, for humans to live on both sides of the border again (and elves beyond just Rayla I'm sure).

We also see consistent motifs such as the 'paths' element that arc 2 has largely fostered, Karim's focus on history and fire, consistent themes like the emphasis on choices, as well as anyone — but especially Ezran — harkening back directly to Harrow's letter from 2x06, which is the first time in seasons we've heard the same sentiments so directly expressed. (Crying over "No, it's too late for that" in 1x02 vs "Then you can still choose love, it's not too late").

I also really enjoy the way this scene tests Ezran. As he said in 4x03, "We all want love and we all want peace" and here, he's presented directly with the opposite: Queen Janai wants peace, but Karim wants violence, he wants to be attacked so that he can have the upper hand, and that's when Ez and Corvus know they need to get out of here.

I also can't help but think about how relevant Ezran's speech here is going to be when he encounters Runaan in S7. We saw in the TDP short story "Deep Below" that he will likely want to do the "harsh thing, the strong thing," rather than the right thing. It makes me wonder if we'll see more of an Ezran&Rayla focus as a way to guide him through. After all, Runaan murdered his father, but Runaan is also Rayla's father—and doesn't Ezran love his sister?

[catboybiologist]

Hi! I’m CatboyBiologist.

Formerly a femboy, now a trans woman just starting HRT, and a PhD student in molecular biology. I started using this online persona as a fun, shitposty way to explore gender a few years ago. I post selfies (generally sfw, but somewhat sexy, so minors and ppl who don’t like that have been warned), rambles about science, tutorials and advice from the stuff I’ve learned by being a femboy in the past, nature pictures, stuff about the ocean, my adorable grumpy little tortoise, and unsolicited opinions on random nerdy topics. Any pronouns are fine. I don’t plan to socially transition for a while, and still present as a man most of the time, so I’m used to whatever you wanna use for me (for now, I’ll update this if that changes). Please send me pictures of your pets or other cute animals in your life!

As a scientist, I’m also documenting my transition! This google sheet will be updated at least monthly. I also have additional metrics I’m keeping to myself, and pictures that go with this, but I’m not sharing them publicly yet. Keep in mind that this is just one person’s experience with HRT, and may not represent universal trends!

Adding a little something here, bc I think it was an interesting bit a writing: if you want to see me respond to a transphobe about what "biologically female" means, here's a thing I wrote about it. CW for transphobia and discussion, obviously.

Also, if any of my measurements look weird, its entirely possible I fucked up. Let me know if anything looks off!

Here’s some of my favorite pre-HRT pictures:

If you want to see more of my pre-HRT selfies, browse the “femboy” tag on my blog!

And as of this writing, I’m only 2 days after the start of HRT, so here’s a picture with my tortoise that’s technically post-HRT (but with 0 time for actual changes):

If you want to see my future post-HRT selfies, browse the “trans selfie” tag on my blog!

Also here's another really cute picture and fanart of my tortoise by @whalesharkcat:

I have affectionately given my tortoise the title of The Grumpus.

I also wrote a couple of tutorials and general vibes about being a femboy before I started HRT:

Sometimes I make shitposts of myself, I don’t take myself too seriously:

This includes the way I came out on tumblr:

And here’s an overly serious, long ramble about trans thoughts and things that I wrote shortly afterwards:

Later addition: Someone asked how I take selfies, so I wrote a quick and dirty guide with some tips on how I do so in response to their ask:

Oh yeah and apparently I was a 196 microcelebrity? I never to thought I was popular enough for that but apparently some people do 🤷‍♀️. So uh, hi 196 tags, I'm abusing you for my pinned post LOL

As for terminology, I personally do think of myself as a “man who is becoming a woman” as opposed to having always been a woman. If that doesn’t resonate with your experience, I totally get that! But that’s why I freely call pre-HRT me a femboy, while still calling post-HRT me a trans woman. I’m also keeping the blog name as CatboyBiologist for the forseeable future, because at this point, Catboy just seems like a gender neutral term to me.

I’m also trying to put together a script for a podcast regarding how studying biology influenced my perspective on sex and gender- lmk if there’s any interest in that! It’s probably gonna be way too long and indulgent but oh well.

So uh. Yeah. I don’t end these types of things well. Byeeeeee

[askinkiskarma]

ꜰᴀʟꜱᴇ ɢᴏᴅ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɪ: ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ 'ᴛɪʟ ɪ'ᴍ ʙᴜʀɴɪɴ' ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴀᴄᴋʙᴜʀɴ��ʀ

pairing: dilf!Jake Sully x (f)human/avatar!reader

synopsis: Jake struggles to adapt with the way being next to you is making him feel.

this story will contain an unhealthy, co-dependent relationship, and dark themes (smut, mental health, death, violence, infidelity), so pls read at your own discretion.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, angst, age-gap (23 vs 43), (a little) smut at the end

wc: 6.1k words

a/n: umm, hi there?? do you remember me? i know it's been such a long time and I am so so sorry, but I am backkk besties!!! i am so happy to finally be able to complete chapter two and I hope you enjoy because it's quickly picking up pace. i really hope this isn't garbage, i'm so so out of practice and so insecure about my writing, but i still hope you are able to understand and enjoy this, because i am so excited to finally be back writing.

ps: this story will move perspectives and timelines a lott, so i hope it's not too confusing but pls do let me know if it is and i'll figure something out xx

replies and reblogs are massively appreciated, i loveee to hear from you so much!

na'vi compendium: tanhi - bioluminescent freckles, paskalin - sweet berry (term of endearment)

series masterlist (x)

Maybe I'm just not better than this, I haven't tried Maybe life's less romantic when I don't wanna die You'd think I'd be a fast learner But guess I won't ever mind crisping up on your backburner

Jake has always felt comfortable in nature. Even back on Earth, the comfort of a bed was a luxury mostly lost on him throughout his life. It was peaceful, and comforting, feeling the ground beneath his feet, beneath his skin, malleable and nurturing, like a warm embrace. It was a given here, with the connection the Na’vi had with the world around them, with the forest surrounding them, that he would become one with it, too, that he would find solace in it. He did, most days. Just not tonight, as he lay on the slightly damp surface with an arm underneath his head for support, trying to find meaning in the stars that were still so beautiful and bright they took his breath away, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat and his wandering thoughts. 

What was that? This whole day, that conversation that was still ringing in his ears like an insipid echo, making sweat bead on his forehead and trickle down his temples, until they were one with the soil. Why would you say that? What possessed him to confide in you about parts of his life he forsook, he gave up what felt like eternities ago?

He’s never truly noticed you before. The shy, timid girl who was far too attuned to others’ feelings to be able to overlook the disdain still present in some members’ of the clan when it came to anything human, always holed up in that lab he hated, that was at odds with everything he’s come to known and too much like everything he was trying his best to leave behind. It used to be different back then, when you were young, just a child craving connection and companionship, always tied to the hip to his eldest son, Neteyam, where Spider always took more to his two middle children. Par for the course, he thought. You and Neteyam were much alike, and somehow still managed to complement each other well, at the same time. He used to think you’d be good for him, back then. Not that he’d ever tell Neytiri that, the seemingly blasphemous idea, but yes - he thought that, even before you got an Avatar. But now, the thought made him uneasy - queasy, even. It wouldn’t be right. Your relationship would be frowned upon, and the Omaticaya would never look at you and see the future Tsa’hik that’s meant to lead them, to interpret their deity’s way. You were too fragile, too tuned in to your own and others’ emotions to be able to overcome it, and it would break you. Being with Neteyam would break you. 

The night was torturous and slow, so many thoughts eating away at him like a disease. By the time Eclipse passed, he was ready for this trip to be over. Being here with you alone wasn’t good, he realises now. It was a mistake, to talk to you, to look into your eyes, to notice you. Because now that he did, he couldn’t stop. The way your Avatar body twitched in sleep, the way he couldn’t help wonder what you were doing in your human body - were you sleeping, like you should be? Was this on your mind, this night, the same way it was his? Were you cramming everything you once used to do in a day in the few hours you had in your now secondary body?

“Oh, kid. You better know how to fix this better than I do.” 

“Is the Avatar safe?”

Norm trusted Jake with his life, and still, he knew he had to ask. The scientist in him, the Avatar program leader de facto, he’s always taken every responsibility, every chance to prove himself to the Na’vi and to his late mentor, Grace Augustine, very seriously. And that included taking care of you. You were not his blood, but you were his family, and he wanted to protect you, he wanted you to be alright. And so when Jake suggested getting some much needed tutelage, he was happy to wait until the night to hear all about it. 

“You know it is.”

“How did it go?”

“Well, I think. He was right, I guess. I definitely feel a bit more comfortable outside of the village, of all the prying eyes.” 

“Amazing. Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m… not sure. I think… I overstepped.” The blush in your cheeks and eyes glued to your fiddling feet made Norm’s brown eyebrow rise, a small grimace mirroring the one marring your beautiful, soft features. Still, he placed a hand on your head, gently brushing the stray hairs that were raised from the hours of being in the cryocapsule.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“He… told me about his life on earth. About his father, and I… made a comment. I have no idea how he reacted to it, but now that I’m here, I have no chance to fix it.”

“I’m sure whatever it is, it’s not as bad as you think. We always tend to overthink in our heads, and, as humans, we always tend to see the worst in ourselves. You, more than most.”

After helping you out, making sure you were settled on your wobbly, weak knees, he gave your shoulder a small squeeze and left to his quarters, but not before telling you one last thing.

“I think someone overstepping once in a while is exactly what a man who’s always obeyed needs. Go to sleep, love.” 

The next morning, you felt dizzy as you woke up in the forest, slight groan audible with every stretch that allowed your sore muscles to loosen. You weren’t surprised to see Jake already up, busying himself with gutting a fish which would most likely constitute your breakfast. You gulped at the sight of him, veiny arms expertly handling the animal, his relaxed postured at odds with the slight frown on his face. Was that because of you? Was he mad at you? What possessed you to talk to him like he was a friend and not the Toruk Makto, the mighty Olo’eyktan? What possessed you to confess about an old crush, that died with your innocence about the world, about the same time you finally started to notice how the Omatikaya, particularly Neytiri, have looked at you all your life. 

“Um, good morning.” 

His eyes flickered over to you, lingering for a second longer than they needed to on your golden eyes before turning back swiftly, and the expression he adorned, a mixed between shame, guilt and desire, would have been obvious to anyone with more life experience, but not to you. Still, you noticed the blush in his cheeks, and couldn’t help the anxiety bubbling in your chest at what… or whom, might be the cause of it. 

“‘Morning, kid. D’you sleep well?” 

“I guess. You?” 

“One of us have to stay up and keep an eye out for predators, you know. Can’t have you get eaten before I’m done teaching you how to defend yourself.” His smile was teasing, and if it was an effort to put your mind at ease, you did appreciate it. It made what you had to say next come out easier.

“Listen, Jake… what I said last night… it was none of m-“

“It’s alright, kid. It’s been a while since anyone’s contradicted me, apart from my wife, so…” his laugh was rugged and unforced, and you couldn’t help join in at the sonorous melody that rang in your ears and all of a sudden couldn’t imagine being without. 

“So you don’t hate me?” 

Jake’s eyes settled on your own, but not before flickering to your parted lips, so focused and eager, you were clinging on to his every word, waiting desperately to be put out of your misery. 

“No, kid. I don’t hate you.” 

Jake didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he did know one thing: it was just a stupid conundrum, nothing more. He didn’t feel anything for you, he was just taken aback by someone who seemed to be a lot more intuitive and incisive about someone’s inner workings than he gave you credit for. But that’s it. Just because you talked about something he cared about, that nobody asked him about, just because he confessed to you feelings he hasn’t said out loud in more than 24 years… that didn’t mean anything. He had a mate. A mate he loved, a mate he was sworn to forever. He had a family, children, a life. It was nothing. So he did his duty and helped you, keeping a safe distance and the conversation to a minimum, outside of instructions he ought to give you. Still, despite his apprehensions, being with you was easy. You were docile and listened well, you were quiet and kept to yourself, and, in the moments you did talk, there was a pureness, a light to your heart that made his own feel lighter. 

“Good form. Now focus on the target and, when you’re ready…”

He watched as the arrow flew at high speed and travelled the length of the forest until it hit the ground next to a tree marked with an X - a makeshift target, but it did the job. 

“Release.” 

“Sorry.” Your ashamed disposition was as clear as day on your face and in your body language, and the purple twinge in your cheeks brought forth the luminosity of your tanhi and he hated himself for noticing it to begin with. 

“Don’t be. You did well. Just make sure you draw all the way back before releasing. The target’s a bit narrower than you’re used to, so you’re doing well.” 

His eyes softened taking you in. A sigh reverberated from deep within his chest and he said the words before he could stop himself, fully knowing he might regret them later. 

“Let’s focus on your tracking instead for a little while. A change of scenery might do you well.”

He knew he should leave the tracking skills for back to the village, for someone else to teach you. He should just hurry back home - to his life, to his wife, to the normalcy he’s both craving and desperately afraid of. Any extra time spent with you is time where he could talk and say something, confess something else that is better left unsaid, fall prey to your uncanny ability to see through him, to will out words he hasn’t even realised he’s been dying to say out loud. 

The ground was wet and cold, accentuated by the heavy moisture surrounding you. it still took getting used to, the air, breathing it in and out, like you were born to do so, such a colossal departure from the mask that covered your face for most of 23 years of your life. Still, it was a blessing, and one you made sure to appreciate with every breath you took. You forgot a little about it, all the gratitude, as the air felt particularly dense and thick as you took it in, as the man you now called mentor crawled skilfully like a steady, stealthy apex predator, little to no evidence of his presence other than the hand that was rested carefully on the small of your back, sending bouts of electricity all throughout your body. His voice was quiet as he spoke it near your ear, a velvet shroud that enveloped you and stirred something in you, something primal and carnal, something you’ve never felt before. What was happening to you? What was he doing to you?

“Lower, kid. The lower you are to the ground, the fainter your scent, the easier to hide.” 

“I-it’s… hard.” 

You could hear his smirk as he answered your quiet protestation, and you wondered whether he found it endearing or irksome, praying and hoping with as much power as you still had left in you that it was the former. 

“I know, girl. Guess we’ll have to train those abs for more core strength, huh?” 

You were happy your back was to him so he couldn’t see the violent blush haunting your cheeks, but even so, there was little you could do about your rampant heart or your heaving breath.

“I can hear your heartbeat like it’s echoing through the whole forest. And if I can, every other animal on a half a click radius can, too. You have to learn to calm your mind. Can you do that for me?”

Although what he was asking of you seemed impossible, considering his touch set your body and soul ablaze and your mind’s already erratic rumination seemed to reach an incandescent high, you tried, and although every muscle in your body hurt and ached, much like the first few times you allowed yourself to train in this body, you did as you were told, and, by early afternoon, you managed to track a pack of Yarik without even as much of a perk of the ear to give you away. You remember still, those early days, like they were happening to you now, as you stood here, in your bedroom, as the tears blurred the familiar space, the rock you were holding so tightly in your hand that it was cutting through your palm until all that inundated your sight was a watercolour red stain. You should have known then. What would follow. When he touched you, how it made you feel, you should have known to stay away. Norm once told you life, especially in your 20s, was about the joys and miseries of growing pains, but if you knew, how the journey was full of polarising extremes that pulled at every fibre of your being, how the high was insurmountable, but the pain was unbearable, maybe you would have thought twice before jumping in. 

You wonder if he knew, then. If he felt it, too. You wonder if he realised that this was the beginning of the end, if the pull you felt was the same one that drove him to what came after, to all he ended up putting on the line. You wondered if it was all a ploy, getting you alone, or if he truly just wanted to help, innocent and undiscerning, just a dutiful Olo’eyktan. You thought you knew his heart, and how much it hid and how much it hurt, you thought you came to know it all through all this time, but as the bleeding in your heart mirrored your gashing palm, you weren’t sure anymore. 

“Come.”

The Yarik were all gone now, unfrightened by your unassuming presence, which you took as a win. Still, you almost flinched when his now much louder voice rang above the quiet murmur of the forest. 

“Where?”

“You worked hard today, so you deserve a break. And I know just the spot.” 

Jake wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, what he was about to do, but he knew you needed something to break apart the times of pain and struggle. It was something he’s learnt, being here, on Pandora, as one of the people, that there was more to life than duty, than sacrifice and pain, then the daily struggle of fitting in, of pitching in, of simply existing. You had to live life, face it, enjoy it. And he wanted you to have that, especially now. He understood, more than most, what it was like to be inhibited and trapped to a space or a time, paralysed, literally or figuratively to your immutable circumstance. For him, it was his legs, trapping him in a body he hated and couldn’t recognise, in habits he took on just like the soldier he’s always been, because there was nothing else he could do. For you, it was your human body, that confined you to the lab, to a mask, to a life that could never be experienced fully, until now. So, despite a small part, probably the logical part of his mind, telling him he should just keep the training going or go home, he decided to share with you a place he found while hunting for food last night. And when he saw your face as you took it in, all doe-eyed and bushy tailed, ears twitching enthusiastically and a beautiful, innocent smile taking over your whole face, he knew he made the right call. He found his own smile brewing without being able to contain it, your joy so contagious, it was like the whole world shone just a little brighter than it had a few minutes ago.

“Jake… I love it. Thank you.”

The roar of the waterfall crashing on the otherwise peaceful lake almost drowned your words, and he laughed at the way you were tentatively approaching the water, as if scared that the caress of it on your skin might hurt your already aching muscles. 

“Good. Let’s see how you like it up close.” 

And with that, and a gentle tap on your shoulder, a loud splash ensued where you hit the water. He laughed yet again at the way you emerged from it, wet and startled and almost as if you could not believe what just happened. 

“I-I… you… I cannot believe you did that!” 

He couldn’t help how much fun it was, doing this, being with you - it was as if for the first time in ages, in decades, being alive was fun again. It was as if this forest was completely separated from his own, from what was waiting for him back home, the unsurmountable pressure that plagued him every second of every day, especially since the humans returned. 

“Believe it, kid. You need to learn to let loose once in a while, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, but seemed intrigued by his preposition. 

“I will if you will.” 

And so he did. And for the next few hours, life was easygoing and fun, and spending time in your presence felt like coming out for a deep breath when it felt like he’d been drowning. He’s learnt you didn’t really know how to swim, and that the first song you’ve ever learnt on piano was one you deeply related to, that he’s made you promise you’d sing to him, and he found out plenty of small things, but nothing important, or of substance. It was clear to him more and more you loved being the one asking the questions and never the one answering them, and, soon enough, here you were again, curious as a cat about things nobody else was when it came to him.

“Did you ever expect it?” the sun was still shining brightly upon you both, warming your strong, supple bodies as you floated in the otherwise cold water. Eclipse wasn’t too far behind, but right now, neither of you particularly seemed to care. 

“What’s that?” You continued floating, looking intently at the sky - focused or too embarrassed to look at him, Jake couldn’t really tell. 

“Everything. What you did, what happened. Did you ever expect it, when you were offered a place on a shuttle to Pandora?” Once again, Jake was taken aback by your propensity of asking deep, profound, intimate questions like you were asking about the weather. He wondered briefly if you realised that that’s not how most people talked.

“No… I didn’t. I didn’t care, about the job or the mission. I cared about the money. And later, about the chance to get my legs back.” 

“Do you ever miss it? Being… normal.” 

“I was given a second chance - a purpose bigger than me, bigger than the measly life I left behind. I -“ this finally got your attention, and for the first time since your first question, you adjusted your position in the water so that you were fully facing him, inquiring eyes like beads of light and focus, intent on taking in every expression, every shift in mood, every slight adjustment of his face. You tried again, this time more forceful and intense, this time almost demanding of his full attention.

“That wasn’t my question. It’s a privilege, and an honour, to be who you are…”

He struggled as he always did to stifle a roll of his eyes and the speech he’s heard a million times before, from his wife, or his Tsa’hik, from every villager of the Omatikaya, from every other tribe leader he’s ever met through diplomatic missions. The answer he always kept at the ready was caught in his throat, because you kept going.

“…but I’m sure it’s also tiring, and hard. And lonely. So do you ever miss it? Do you ever wish things could go back to the way they were? Do you ever wish you didn’t have to be there for everybody all the time?”

He looked at you, pleading, not knowing whether he needed you to stop or keep going, only knowing it hurt, being torn at the seams like that between two choices that both led to heartbreak and epiphanies he wasn’t ready to face nor strong enough to deal with on his own, especially right now.

“Kid…” 

“I went too far again, didn’t I? What is wrong with me?” 

The attempt to get out of the lake was swiftly overthrown by his much stronger physique keeping you in place, caging you in between the edge of the lake and his muscular arms. Jake wasn’t an emotional man, he wasn’t one to be overcome with feelings that could cloud his judgement, that could interfere with a plan of action and yet, standing there, in that moment, your wide golden eyes looking fearfully and surprisedly up at him, the rapid pulse of your heart clearly visible in your carotid artery running up your neck, he felt his mind clouded and his own heart trembling with the overwhelming, unexpected urge to taste you, to feel those lips crashing over his, your tongues intertwined, his fingers wander in wondrous places he was sure no one else had before. He needed you, like he’s scarcely ever needed anything else, like he rarely ever allowed himself to. But you weren’t his, you never would be. And this was wrong and immoral, and it didn’t matter - that you seemed to be able to see right through him, that everything you said cut like a knife through all the bullshit and pretence, that your pupils were so wide they were swallowing the golden of your irises, that he could feel that you wanted it too. None of it mattered. 

“You didn’t go too far. You just… see things. And ask things, no one else ever does. And it scares me, kid. You scare the shit out of me.” 

“Me? I’m nothing. I’m… just a girl.”

“You’re everything.”

It was then you knew, that the crush was not a crush, it was so much more, too much more. It was then you knew you were heading for a potentially life-altering, life-ending fall that would break all your bones and leave you tethered on the ground, shattered and broken, unable to ever be put back together the same. And so you tried. You broke the moment that felt eternal, even though it pained you, to know at some point he wouldn’t be looking at you the way he had been then, and asked him to go home. You were quiet and compliant all the way back, and he made it easier on you by a performance of the same caliber. You didn’t know if it made you feel better or worse, that the moment clearly affected him too, enough that both of you looked like dogs with their tails between their tails as you arrived back in the village, without having spoken another word to the other, without as much as risking a glance in the other’s direction.

It was for the best. There was nothing, absolutely nothing that could come of entertaining this little troubled happenstance, and truth be told, you couldn’t wait for your life to get back to normal, where he barely spoke to you and you were free to withdraw within yourself the way you knew you had to in order to heal. You were able to get over your mindless crush once before, and you were certain to be able to do it again, especially given you would had the perfect opportunity in the annual clan celebration that you had come just in time for. 

“How was it?” Neteyam was quietly hopeful about your trip with his dad, eager to be able to call you one of the People as soon as he possible could. Any effort to aid that, to allow you closer to a life he knew you deserve and knew you could make your own, was beneficial and encouraged in his mind. You loved Neteyam, and appreciate him for who he was and what he meant to you - a brother, a best friend, a confidant. You told him most things and yet, some things were just too ugly to share, and so you didn’t. Some things were better off swept under the rug, praying the lump they made was not big enough to trip on. 

“Great. I think he was right, being away from all the prying eyes helped. Guess I’ll just have to show you tomorrow. Who knows? I might even be better than the mighty warrior soon, eh?” 

He threw his head back and laughed, and you joined in his joy, already feeling better just being away from him, leisurely walking trough the village and helping out with anyone who needed a hands for tonight’s celebration. 

“Dream on, paskalin. Although, you could show me what you learnt tonight, and maybe even win a prize in the knife throwing contest. Better than sulk all night in a corner the way I know you’re itching to do.” 

“Actually, I wasn’t planning on doing that. Not tonight.” 

“Oh?” You wish you hadn’t said that, because you should have realised Neteyam would be curious and it was a subject you didn’t feel ready to talk to anyone about, especially a man, a beautiful, glorious, obviously-experienced one, such as your best friend. 

“I just mean, it’s time, you know? To try to live my life. Maybe even find someone with whom to share it with.” 

“Y-you mean… like a mate?” 

Neteyam looked taken aback by your confession, so much so that he stopped in the middle of the path, making two children bump into his legs and fall down behind him. It took a lot to make Neteyam flustered, and so you couldn’t understand why your words affected him so much. Was it so unsettling to people, the thought of an Avatar finding love on the planet that wasn’t quite home, but was the only chance at home you would ever get? Were you so repulsive as a person that the one who knew you the best thought it hard to digest that you could ever be loved by a man? 

“Forget about it, Neteyam. I’ll be at the celebration, alright? I should go get ready.” 

You left before you could hear his excuses or explanations - you knew you were sensitive, probably too sensitive. You knew you were probably overreacting, and his words didn’t have any malintent, and you knew he was most likely just taking a second to adjust to a new stage of your life you’ve never shared with him before. You knew all of these and more, and yet, your heart was tired and bruised, your mind a tumultuous whirlwind of doubt and misery. You needed time, time to heal, time to think. Time you didn't have, when the celebration was upon you.

You almost wanted to laugh now, months after that night happened, at how stupid you had been that night, how desperate and pathetic. You knew about some Na'vi, certain warriors who loved the idea of humans, of experimenting with them, of using them. You've heard the stories, you've seen the scientists coming back to the lab with them, you've been around when they talked about how good it was, how necessary the release, how passionate and life-changing the experience. In your head, that was exactly what you needed then: some sex with some random Na'vi who wanted to show you a good time, help you forget about the one you really wanted. It wasn't hard enough to find one that night, especially after you won your prize in the knife throwing competition, when the warmth of liquid courage was still embedded deep within your throat and soul, much to Neteyam's dismay. Still, the performance attracted attention, of one man in particular you cared about. Strong, 10 feet tall and muscular, he was looking at you like a meal and right then, you wanted nothing more to be devoured. You wondered what your life would have been like if that night went differently than it did. You wondered...

He barely noticed it, his wife’s touches or his clan members’ words of admiration or respect, not when the only thing his mind could focus on was the way his hand was caressing your shoulder and down your arm in gentle and intimate touches that felt too familiar for two people who have seemingly barely ever interacted before. His skin crawled at the sweet, shy smile you were sending his way and at the slight tint of purple he could see in your cheeks. You were too pure for this, Jake knew. Too pure for the intentions clear on his face that he didn’t think you fully understood, how this was all a game, a conquest, how you were a prize to be won, a trophy to be paraded around to the Na’vi who loved to brag about fucking the Avatars, the humans, the aliens. It was a game to him, and you… you weren’t a game to be played, not to Jake. 

To his surprise, he realised he was angry with you. Angry that you were humouring him, that you were giving into it, that you were enjoying it. That guy was not good enough for you, and you should know that. You should know that for your first time being touched, being someone else’s, you needed someone who knew how to handle you, how to make you feel good, show you what it feels like to give in to your wildest dreams and fantasies. You needed someone to teach you. The fury bubbling just beneath the surface worried him.

You weren’t his. You were free to do as you wished, and the thoughts that plagued him as the mother of his children was sitting in his lap, perfectly unaware, were enough to pool other feelings, like guilt and shame, and form a heady concoction of emotions that he knew sooner or later would explode all around him. None of the feelings trumped the relief that washed over him as soon as he saw Lo’ak approach the two of you and break apart the scene, and right then, in that moment, Jake never felt more grateful for his troublemaker son and his propensity for meddling in other people’s business.

You looked disappointed with the interruption, slightly irked at his son and at the way the hand that was running up and down your thigh was now vacant from the spot you obviously thought it belonged on. The boy was clearly annoyed at Lo’ak, and a smirk breeched the carefully constructed expression resting on the Olo’eyktan’s face - annoyed or not, everyone knew better than to challenge one of his sons. So, with a careful goodbye, he was gone, leaving you gesticulating widely in his direction and clearly despondent with the outcome. It wasn’t long before you left for your tent, and Jake knew that if he was to survive this night, he’d have to be careful not to give in to the one thing he wished for the most in the world. 

Your shower was hotter than what you were used to, hot enough to hopefully scald away the shame and embarrassment you felt now that you were sober once more. Your life seemed to be comprised mostly of those, recently, and while it was somewhat easy to forget how badly you fared in training your Avatar body once you got back to your bedroom and the safe confines of the labs, this new, fresh development lingered like a cold sore, painful whenever you remembered it. Did anyone else apart from Lo’ak see you, shamelessly flirting and allowing a Na’vi warrior to feel you up? Did everyone know how desperately you wanted someone to take you away and make you forget about the one man you actually wanted, the man who made all the other ones pale in comparison, the one man who you couldn’t have? You knew it was so wrong, how badly you craved his touch, what effect even a fleeting image of him in the back of your mind had on you, how your slick was running down your legs, how your brain couldn’t stop conjuring all the ways he could teach you how to be, how to love, how to live. How you knew his touch would ruin you and put you back together, kill you and finally bring you to life. 

As you fastened your towel onto your body and opened the door to your bedroom, you were startled to find the one man you couldn't shake from your mind sitting on your bed, eyes wandering over your barely dry body.

“God, Jake, you scared me!”

You couldn't believe he was in your room, as if by thinking about him hard enough you manifested him here. He was so tall, so much bigger than you as you stood now, in your human body, frail and delicate and so easy to break. He barely fit on your bed and in your room, taking most of the walking space, so much so you struggled to adjust your position to face him properly.

“…What are you doing here?” 

“What were you doing with that grunt at the party?”

You couldn't believe your ears, settling on a double take as you considered his question carefully, mulling over every word in your mind, as if doing so will finally reveal a secret meaning to it that you couldn't quite understand yet.

“Pardon?” 

“You heard me, kid.”

His words were dry and humourless. There was no levity to them, or to the situation, the room filled with thick tension, and for the first time in your life, you were almost...scared of him. Why did he care?

“I… he… we…”

“That’s what I thought. Why him? If you want someone to mate, I’m sure there’s better options out there.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it, Jake.”

You started turning around, dizzy from the way his presence was making you feel and tired of giving him so much power to do so. You didn't manage to, though, as his large hand caught your forearm and held you in place, and when you were forcefully turned back to look at him, you saw it all. The hurt. The anger. The... betrayal. The jealousy.

“No, this isn’t how this works. You always ask questions and get me talking about shit I haven’t said out loud in decades, or ever. You’re not going shy on me now, not anymore. So why him?” 

Fuck it.

“Because it’s not you, ok?! Because it can’t be you! And I don’t know if you’ve realised this, but it’s not like I have a line of men willing to mate or even be seen with a human, an alien, a sky demon. So it has to be him! That’s why.” 

“Kid…”

The tears were pooling in your eyes like beaded pearls making your vision blurry, and the struggle with which you've been trying to remove yourself from his grasp finally paid off because you did it, you finally manage to break free, but it was too late. You were exhausted, and you knew it was time to lay it all on the table, once and for all, for him to know, and to disprove, for him to break your heart so you could finally move on.

“No, Jake! You’re in my head, all the time. It’s messing with my mind, the deluded reality I’ve been living in. You talk to me, and you notice me, and you give me attention. You touch me, and you look at me like…”

Soft sobs broke your words apart and let their meaning linger all around you, sounding like infinite echoes in the room. It would all be over soon.

“...Like you want me. And I know you don’t, and I know it’s not real, and it hurts me! So I need something else, I need someone else, I need someone to show me there’s other men out there, to pull me out of this nightm-“

His lips, soft and needy, not at all like you imagined them to be, ceased your pleading words before you got a chance to speak them. It took a second, just one second, for you to understand what was happening, to process the way the kiss was everything you've ever wanted and more than you've ever dreamed about, the way he was desperate and hungry for your touch, for you to reciprocate his feelings... so you did. And you melted under his touch, and before long, the whole world disappeared from view, and there were no consequences to your actions, and all you knew, all you needed... was him.

You were both panting when you finally came up for air, and all you wanted was more. More. A little more. Always more.

“Fuck, kid. You’ve got no idea how much I want you. But I’ll show you.” His hand wandered down your much smaller body, until his large fingers found the knot of your bathrobe, that he skilfully undoes, before sliding them over your soaked folds. “Shit. Look how wet you are for me. Let me show you, please.” 

With a nod, you dropped your head backwards and knew, in your heart, whatever was next would be the beginning of the end, of you, of him, of everything you’ve both worked so hard for and yet, all you felt was unadulterated, heavenly, euphoric bliss. 

Maybe I blame my mother bleeding into my stride Maybe it was my father and his wandering eyes (It's their fault that) I'll always be in your corner 'Cause I don't feel alive 'til I'm burnin' on your backburner

taglist:@yagirlheree @mashiromochi @deepdarktower @tojisleftarm@childofgod-05 @youngpersonaathletebear @cinetrix @hinataashoyos @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @misscaller06 @v1l-ismissing @legendarynoodlebowl@analuw @imjustcal @the-fractured-eye @pandoraontop @sweetirilly @kouyoumarryme @blxkstar @ok-boke @myheartfollower @the-mourning-moon @pandoraslxna @jakexneytiri @blue-slxt @kingjulian0o9 @erenjaegerwifee @babyduk213 @@toocoldoutsideforyou

[jeonscatalyst]

Hi May, so glad youre back!

There has been a lot of negativity in this fandom since AYS dropped, and it's always nice to have sensible Jikookers to turn to and discuss some things from the show.

I'm curious about your take on the car talk - since that one has been most controversial one. I know you said you'd probably make a master post about AYS but in the meantime I'd like to hear your overall opinion

Hey anon, thank you so much.

Yea it’s been a shit show since AYS dropped with everyone having very different opinions about different things but if you think about it, it’s always been like this. It’s literally always been a war zone everytime we got a new content with Jikook so just like any other time, this too shall pass.

Now about the car talk.

I think many of us already knew that Jimin and Jungkook weren’t seeing alot of each other or spending much time together in chapter two mainly because of their different schedules but them actually talking about it gave us more context.

Now, I am not going to behave like a taekooker and start coming up with lame ass excuses like, “it was scripted” or “they lied to hide their relationship” or “they didn’t mean it like that”. I’m not going to do all of that. If Jikook said they didn’t see each other much, then they didn’t. If they say they didn’t make time to call each other much then I 100% believe that, that is exactly what happened.

The car conversation started with Jimin saying that it’s been long since he went somewhere with Jungkook and Jungkook joined in a mentioned that they were supposed to go for drinks but unfortunately didn’t. Jk then mentions that when he was free and Jimin was busy, he didn’t call him and when he was busy and Jimin was free, he didn’t call him. Jimin said no he called but it seems like Jungkook doesn’t remember that he did. I have seen some different translations suggesting that Jimin and Jungkook weren’t talking about literally calling each other on the phone but talking about calling each other to hang out and do stuff together but all of those are technicalities and don’t really matter or make much of a difference to me because the point still stands that they didn’t seem to make time for each other for some reason and it seemed to have been a mutual thing.

Now, while some people will hear this and throw their hands in the air saying that this debunks Jikook and pack up their bags, it doesn’t. The only thing this possibly debunks is the fact that Jikook possibly weren’t actively in a romantic relationship at that particular point in time but it doesn’t debunk the idea that Jikook have in a romantic relationship before or are currently in one.

I have mentioned before that so often, many of us only look at the black and white of the world and neglect the grey and possibly the color. People often have a simplistic, binary way of thinking where things are seen as either all good or all bad, right or wrong, with no middle ground or shades of gray but the truth is that, in the real world, things don’t quite work like that. Situations, decisions, and people often exist in a spectrum, with various factors to consider, and understanding these subtleties is important. It important to look beyond rigid categories to appreciate the complexity and diversity of perspectives, emotions, and experiences in life. To put things in lay man’s terms, if Paul and Mary were in a relationship 6 months ago yet for some reason weren’t in a relationship last week, does this mean they never were in relationship? Short answer is no. People possibly not being together at one particular point in time doesn’t debunk the idea that they have ever been together and thinking that Jikook’s car talk debunks them completely is you looking at the world only in black and white and again, the real world doesn’t work like that.

I had also mentioned before on my other blog (gosh can tumblr give me my blog back already😩) that there was a good possibility that Jimin and Jungkook were not in the traditional or conventional type of relationship many of us are used to but this idea wasn’t welcomed by so many people because once again, to so many people, it is either Jimin and Jungkook are in a committed long lasting relationship or they are not at all but the issue with limiting things to opinions like this is that, when we get this kind of information that we got from Jikook, you don’t know how to make sense of things because to you, it had always been either this or not, true or false, yes or no and never the possibility of maybe or maybe not and that is why I kept maintaining that it was necessary to open your minds when it concerned things we don’t have full context of because you never know. You could be 100% right about Jikook being in a romantic relationship but when you limit that type of romantic relationship to just the conventional type, then it that’s an issue. It could also be a little to heteronormative to look at things like that and that unfortunately doesn’t also factor in so many things that could affect the kind of relationship jikook have, like the fact that they are idols, members of the biggest boyband in the world who live in a homophobic country etc.

Let’s look at Jikook’s history for a bit. Out of all members, Jimin and Jungkook are possibly the two who were usually seen around each other in and outside of work the most. For years, they were the two who spent most of their time together, by their own admission so they have a long history of spending time with each other in and outside of work. Taekook on the other hand don’t have a history of spending much time together outside of work. As a matter of fact, they both admitted that they didn’t. The person we always saw Jungkook with for so many years was Jimin while Tae was usually seen with his wooga and other sets of friends outside of BTS. So a jikooker thinking that just because Jikook were not seen together in chapter two, completely debunks Jikook is exactly the same as a taekooker thinking that just because Tae and Jk hung out together quite alot in chapter two proves they are a couple even though they don’t have a history of hanging out together outside of work before chapter two. See how dumb it sounds? It makes no sense because for a romantic relationship to be plausible, there needs to be history and that is something that Taekook doesn’t have while Jikook have a lot of it, so Taekook could have hung out every single day in chapter two while jikook never hung out a single day in chapter two but that will still never mean that Taekook is real and Jikook never was.

Jimin and Jungkook had consistently prioritized being with or spending time with each other more than anyone else for years, so the fact that this abruptly stopped in chapter two, convinces me more than anything else that those two did not have a platonic relationship with each other and that something probably happened. Jimin isn’t the type to just stop hanging out with his friends and especially not Jungkook. He isn’t the type of person who is flaky in his relationships. He isn’t the type of person who doesn’t value friends and relationships in his life. Jimin did seem to make time for everyone else but just not much of Jungkook and we know that it’s not like there wasn’t a chance for them for them to meetup at all because even Jungkook had tried a few times to ask Jimin to come have chicken with him, come box with him, come do a Live with him, Jungkook even opted to go to Jimin but Jimin said no. I’m not going to pretend like I know what was going on with them because I obviously don’t but it is obvious that something was off.

I think that now, it makes more sense why we saw Jungkook obviously pining. It makes more sense why we saw him waking up at 4am to watch Jimin. It makes sense why we all saw him visibly glow up everytime he saw Jimin comment on his Lives. It make sense why he talked about Jimin so much because for two people who didn’t seem to care to reach out to each other, they both really seemed to have each other’s names in their mouths and thoughts alot especially Jungkook. It made alot of sense for Jk to mention Tae as much as he did because he hung out with him alot, but what was his reason for mentioning Jimin as much as he did when according to them they barely kept in toch with each other? What was his reason for sitting his ass down and watching Jimin centric videos as much as he did?

I think that something was off with Jimin and Jungkook at the beginning of the solo era but it seems like things went back to normal after their NY trip because we know for a fact that Jimin and Jungkook spent time together after that. Jimin spoke about always discussing music with Jk when they were together, we heard him singing 3D before it’s release date which means he had heard it and the most important thing….Jimin and Jungkook enlisted together. They wouldn’t have done that if they were not in a good place.

It’s important to note that we are all watching Jimin and Jungkook’s lives unfold before our various eyes and what this means is that, we would witness good, bad and ugly moments. We would witness moments of them being so in love with each other as well as those moments when something seems a little off. These are things that happen even in our own relationships and maybe if we all had our lives being broadcasted and we sat down to watch every action, word, facial expression, body language etc, we would be more understanding of these people. We wouldn’t be so quick to judge, to get annoyed, to accuse, or to jump into conclusions. We would understand that human beings are complex and life itself is not and will never be a one size fits all.

Seeing as we are still following the story, I guess we all would have to wait to see how things play out but for now, I think Jimin and Jungkook are good. I cannot say for sure what they are to each other (cause I really don’t know) but what I can say is that those two really love each other.

[aurora-starwars]

Hi! I was wondering if you’re doing requests if not pls ignore this but if you are….

I was wondering if you could do a neteyam x human reader where human reader has glasses and is really self conscious abt them. Thank you and I hope you have a good day 🫶💗

Insecurity Is Suffocating

Pairing: Neteyam x human!reader

Summary: You are self conscious about your glasses, Neteyam tries to fix that

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: none, just fluff! <333

A/n: I tried using second person perspective for once… I don’t like it. But i do have experience with glasses and i hate wearing them, contacts for life. Anyway, thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy! <333333

Masterlist

For as long as you can remember, you have needed glasses.

Living on an alien planet, estranged from your own, much safer world, was already a struggle enough. But managing glasses on Pandora? More of an inconvenience than anyone would have thought. You would always struggle to fit your glasses under your oxygen mask, Spider often teasing you about it, running ahead and leaving you behind because you took too long.

But not putting on your glasses was worse, you did not have good sight and you would be lost or dead in the forest before you even got anywhere. It wasn’t even like they had contacts on Pandora for you to use, those all expired years before you needed glasses, the people that had used them long gone. It was lucky they had glasses for your prescription at all.

This was always frustrating to you, having to wear glasses all of the time. When you are out exploring with the Sully kids, you felt just that bit more separated from everything, having two panes of glass between you and Pandora.

But you did have one comfort through your insecurity.

Neteyam.

Neteyam was always there, watching you silently. A small smile on his face, every time you were in his home.

Every time you would ask, “What?”

He would always smile and shake his head slightly, “Nothing.”

It was never nothing.

When he would get you alone, whether his parents were out or he visited you back at the lab, he would always shower you in praise.

“You look so pretty.”

“Your hair is so soft.”

“I like how your glasses frame your face.”

“You are so cute.”

You were never sure where it was coming from, what all of the compliments were for. So you just smiled, blushing at his words each time.

But on this particular day, you had a tough time coming to terms with the permanence of your blurry vision and the glasses you needed to correct it.

You looked in the mirror, tracing the lines on your nose that your glasses left before putting your glasses back on and sighing. You liked your face, mostly, it was hard to see without your glasses, which was even more frustrating. But your glasses got in the way of it, you could feel it on your face at all times, and you could never get rid of it. This drove you insane.

Thankfully, today also was one of the days Neteyam came to visit.

You heard talking in the main hall which was the room next to you. You sighed, thinking it was Lo’ak and Kiri coming to terrorize the avatar driver’s again, although that was mostly Lo’ak.

But your thoughts were interrupted when you hear a knock at your door. When you opened it, you found Neteyam hunched over on the other side.

“Can I come in?” he questioned, his posture looked uncomfortable and you giggled at his strange hunched over look as he stood in the doorway.

You opened the door to let him in and he moved quickly, squatting next to your bed like he usually does. You go to sit in the chair by your desk, with him squatting and you sat, you look at each other practically eye to eye.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks after observing your face, his head tilts to the side curiously.

“Nothing,” your eyes flicker to the mirror you were staring into only moments ago.

Neteyam’s eyes follow yours, even if it was a quick look, to the mirror. He sighs.

He has know of your discontent for your glasses for a while, as long as he has been talking to you one-on-one like this. He sees it every time he compliments something to do with your glasses, you make this little face of disagreement but never voice your thoughts. Every time he traces the lines where your glasses would be on your face when you take them off, he sees your little nose scrunch when you notice what he is doing. He sees it when you look in the mirror and your eyes flicker to the delicate frame.

Neteyam always though your glasses looked so cute on you, framing your face with its delicate design and shape. He thought you were cute enough to make anything look good, in fairness.

Looking into your eyes again, your eyes finally made their way back to his, he slowly reached over to cup its large hands around your considerably smaller face.

“You look so cute, you know this,” he started, to which you roll your eyes playfully.

“You look so cute, cute nose, pretty eyes, lovely hair, cute chin, silly but nice eyebrows, soft cheeks, oh look they are turning pink,” he smiles at you, looking into your eyes like they were the windows to your soul.

Now you were blushing, cheeks red and your face flushed, you looked up at him and you felt like you would crumble if he let go of you.

You knew where this was coming from but that did not make any less defenceless to his words.

He kept talking, figuring if he stopped you would somehow object to what he is saying.

“I have seen photos of human models and actresses but they can’t even compare to you, all of the na’vi girls in my clan can’t even compare to you. You and your glasses are so beautiful,” Neteyam looks into your eyes sternly, as if what he was saying was not up for debate.

“Your glasses only seem to accentuate your beauty, framing your face and accessories everyone of your outfits. Besides, I have seen some of the scientist’s glasses here, your frames look amazing in comparison,” he smiles at your giggling, your face still flushed, but you were feeling a bit better.

“Thank you, Neteyam.”

“Anything for you, oeyä syulang.”

Oeyä syulang: my (possessive) flower

Masterlist

A/n: Thank you for reading! I did not really like this but I hope you did! <333333

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @adrunkskeletonsduck @luvlykrispy @tainted-artist4161 @gamorxa @valentineheartzz @nighttimemoonlover

[wannabehockeygf]

You All Over Me - Auston Matthews

“‘Cause no amount of freedom gets you clean,

I’ve still got You All Over Me.”

Pairing: Auston Matthews x fem! oc Word Count: Currently 8.2k

Pairing: AM34 x Social Media Manager fem!oc

Warnings: alcohol, smut later on

Notes: (***) indicate chapter change, (---) time skip within chapter, or a seperation from a post or messages. Italics at the beginning of the chapter indicate who's 'pov'(not really cuz we're in third person) we're looking at. BOLD LETTERS LIKE THIS during chapters (excluding posts/the first word of the entire book) indicate location. Locations within Toronto will be more specific, outside of Toronto will be vague.

Story will be continued on my wattpad (same handle) and here, but should prob follow my wattpad because I won't announce new chaps here lol.

***

Toronto.

A place of endless opportunity – bright lights everywhere, bustling city streets, and the sinking feeling in one's stomach when realizing each of the 6 million people in the GTA have their own lives.

It's humbling, truly. Sitting on the subway, heading to a destination, one can't help but wonder about the people around them.

Thoughts don't often dwell on it, but that girl with the pink hair and the septum piercing? She just found out her dad is sick. The guy with the navy blue baseball cap? He just got promoted at work.

Sometimes she wondered if people look at her and wonder what her story is. What brought her to that moment, being in the same place as them.

She doesn't know if they do, but it brings her a sense of normalcy. Weirdly enough, it's one of the only things that makes her feel human when in doubt. Everyone is just trying to get by, right?

And sometimes, that can be especially hard - at least in her case right now.

Moving across the country had never been on Blair's radar until about 4 months ago. She had just finished her first year of law school after sustaining a season-ending, and career-ending, hip injury competing in figure skating last year.

As a little kid, she always wanted to play hockey, but her mom pushed figure skating on her, saying it was more 'feminine.' She didn't like it all that much, but it consumed her life so much that when she lost it, she didn't know what to do with herself.

So, when it blew up in her face, she decided to deny it and work towards making her communications bachelor's degree worth something in law school. Problem was, she hated it.

It drove her mental health into a ditch, and by the time she was finished, she was a shell of who she used to be - and who she used to be was broken too.

She didn't want to live like that anymore.

So, she finally broke things off with her long-term boyfriend, which she probably should've done earlier, and left. Left Vancouver behind to start a new life across the country - in Toronto.

Her music boomed in her headphones as she looked up, seeing that they were at the station she needed to get off at. Standing up, walking off the subway, she climbed up the stairs and faced the unfamiliar streets once again.

She had just come back from a job interview and was heading home to her tiny studio apartment in Trinity-Bellwoods. The job, which required navigating the trenches of Toronto public transit, was at Scotiabank Arena - working for the Toronto Maple Leafs.

Coming from a fan perspective, she had been a Canucks girl her whole life, growing up in Vancouver. But this position of social media manager paid really well, and she wasn't letting team bias get in the way of putting some weight in her pockets.

Seeing the ice could be a little irking for her, sure, but it's not like she was being put out there with a puck and a stick and nothing else other than a pat on the back. She'd just be responsible for the social media platforms. Can't be that hard, right?

They said they'd get back to her within two weeks, and now the waiting starts.

***

Blair

SCOTIABANK ARENA

Blair shoved her face into the badly drawn map the information desk attendant had given her for directions. It really wasn't helping.

"Right... here?" she mumbled, taking a sharp turn without looking up and bumping straight into a firm chest, dropping the paper.

Startled, she let out a little squeal before stepping back to see who she had just run into. "Sorry!" she said, meeting the gaze of a blue-eyed man.

He smiled brightly at her. "All good," he replied, crouching down to pick up the paper and furrowing his brow at it. "What even is this?"

Blair let out an awkward chuckle, moving a lock of dark brown hair away from her face. "A... map? Sorry, I'm just so turned around here." She paused, swallowing hard. "Do you happen to know where I could find a... Brad Treliving?"

"Sure do," the man said, folding up the paper. He seemed about to give it back to her before he held out his other hand for a handshake. "And you are?"

"Blair Hanson," she replied, shaking his hand firmly. This guy must be the happiest man on earth, holding a full-on goofy grin for the entire interaction.

"Nice to meet you, Blair. I'm Mitch," he remarked, freeing her from the handshake and handing her the paper at last.

"Mitch...?" she questioned. As little as she knew about professional settings, she thought you were supposed to introduce yourself with your full name, which 'Mitch' didn't do, if that's even his name.

Mitch laughed, surveying the skeptical look on Blair's face. "You don't know who I am?"

Who did this guy think he was? Blair blinked a couple of times, then pushed her glasses up her nose. "Should I?"

Mitch chuckled again, clearly amused by her confusion. "How new are you here, exactly?"

"Well," she started, crossing her arms, "Does it matter? Maybe you should stop expecting people to recognize you on sight. I mean, what are you, Mark, like, a fitness trainer or something?"

Mitch furrowed his eyebrows, his friendly smile fading slightly. "It's Mitch," he paused, running a hand through his dirty blond hair. "Mitch Marner. I play for the team."

Oh. Oh. Blair should have known that, shouldn't she? She felt her face burn up as she started to apologize profusely. "I'm so sorry! I'm just... very new," she admitted, her guard wearing down.

Mitch waved it off, his smile returning. "No worries. So, you were looking for Brad, huh? Big day for you?"

"Yeah," Blair said, feeling a bit nervous under his gaze. "I'm starting as the new social media manager."

Mitch's eyes lit up. "Oh, that's awesome! You'll be handling all the behind-the-scenes stuff, right? Making us look good on Instagram and all that?"

"Pretty much," she laughed, starting to feel more at ease. "I'm still figuring out how I'm going to make a bunch of sweaty hockey players look good, though."

Mitch grinned. "Good luck with that. But seriously, welcome aboard. You'll do great." He gestured down the hallway. "Brad's just around the corner, I'll take you."

"Thank you, Mitch. I appreciate it," she said, falling into step beside him.

"No problem," Mitch replied, walking with an easy confidence that made Blair envious. "You'll find that everyone here is pretty welcoming. It can feel like a big family, especially once you get to know the guys."

Blair laughed. "Oh, sure. I'm sure I'll fit right... in." She trailed off, her eyes widening as Mitch pushed open a big double door. She first spotted the man she was looking for, Brad Treliving, standing at the head of a big conference table, along with the entire Maple Leafs roster seated around it.

She swallowed hard, standing frozen in place while everyone's heads turned towards her. Mitch placed a friendly hand on her shoulder, "This her?"

Brad Treliving looked up from the papers he was holding, a welcoming smile spreading across his face. "Yes, it is. Come on in, Blair."

Blair forced her feet to move, taking tentative steps into the room. If she wasn't nervous before, she was now, with every pair of eyes scrutinizing her. She offered a polite smile, trying to hide her nerves. "Um... Hi," she said, approaching Brad and standing beside him. "Is this... are we doing this here?"

Brad chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yes, Blair. I thought it might be good for you to meet everyone right away. This is the team you'll be working with closely, after all."

She swallowed again, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on her. "Okay, sure. Hi, everyone."

The players nodded and mumbled their greetings, some offering small smiles. Blair could feel her heart pounding in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm. This was what she came here for. This was her new beginning.

Brad gestured to a seat at the table, and Blair sat down, her back straight and her hands clasped in her lap. "So, Blair," he began, "We're thrilled to have you on board. Should we start with some introductions?"

She nodded, attempting to steady her breath as she glanced around the table. "Well, I'm Blair, as Mr. Treliving said, um..." She paused, fumbling with her fingers under the table. "I moved here from Vancouver a couple of weeks ago. I went to law school for a bit, and I used to figure skate competitively."

A chuckle came from somewhere across the table, and Blair's gaze shot in that direction. Her eyes met those of a tall, muscular, brown-eyed man as he stifled another laugh. "Figure skating, huh? No offense, but what do you know about hockey?"

Blair forced a polite smile, trying not to show her frustration. "None taken. I've been a Canucks fan my whole life, so, a lot more than you'd think."

A lot taken. It was like she had walked into a room with egos inflated to the max.

"Yeah, okay," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of sarcasm as he adjusted his Maple Leafs branded ball cap. "Nice glasses, by the way."

Blair pushed her glasses up her nose, feeling a little self-conscious at this point, and she was about to respond before another man she didn't recognize spoke up. "Auston, lay off. It's not like she's getting on the ice with us."

Auston. That name rang a bell, she thought. Of course, Auston Matthews. Blair made a mental note to remember the faces and names, but for now, she just needed to get through this. Auston rolled his eyes, leaning back as he replied, "Says the one whose wife is a figure skater."

The other man, with strawberry blond hair, tensed up, gaining his composure before he met Auston's gaze. "And how many Olympic gold medals do you have?"

Auston smirked but didn't respond. The tension in the room was palpable, and Blair could feel her anxiety rising again. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she needed to stay professional. This was her chance to prove herself, and she wouldn't let an arrogant hockey player get to her.

Brad cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to him. "Alright, let's focus, everyone. Blair is here to help us elevate our social media presence, and I expect all of you to cooperate and make her job easier."

The fact that the general manager was talking to the players like they were literal children made Blair tense up even further. This was going to be a long day.

--- 436 TRINITY-BELLWOODS

Blair's phone rang as she shut the door to her apartment. She fished through her bag and pulled it out, seeing her brother's name, and slid to pick up the FaceTime.

She was met with the face of her baby niece, and it instantly warmed her heart. Sometimes, she thought she regretted choosing this type of life instead of settling down and starting a family, but she always brushed those thoughts away. She wasn't ready to be a mother—being the hot, cool aunt was enough for her.

"Hey, munchkin!" she greeted her niece, her voice softening. "Where's your dad?"

Her niece giggled, the camera shaking as she toddled around. "Da-da!" she called, and Blair heard her brother, Sam's, voice in the background.

"Hey, Blair," he said, taking the phone from his daughter and giving her a friendly smile. "How are you? How's the city?"

The stress of the day slowly dissipated as Blair saw the familiar face that brought her comfort. "Yeah, it's... different. Bigger, for sure, but nothing a little walking around can't fix. How's everything back home?"

Sam laughed, adjusting Blair's niece on his lap. "Same old, same old. Lila just started walking, so that's been fun." His face lit up with pride as he talked about his daughter, and Blair couldn't help but smile. Someday, she hoped she had that too.

"She's getting so big!" Blair said, watching as Lila reached for the phone, her chubby fingers grasping at the screen. "And walking already? Wow."

"Yeah, she's a little terror now," Sam joked, tickling Lila's side and making her squeal with laughter. He turned back to the camera, and his smile slowly got replaced with a frown as he looked at Blair's disheveled state. "We miss you, little sis."

Blair took a deep breath, feeling a wave of homesickness wash over her. "I miss you guys too. It's been a crazy day. I'm just trying to adjust, you know?"

Sam chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. "Hey, you've dealt with worse, right? Remember when that one coach at nationals—"

"Sam! Don't!" Blair squealed, not wanting to be reminded of that. Figure skating might have been her entire life, but it was also the most traumatizing thing she had ever gone through.

Sam waved it off, returning the conversation to safer waters. "Whatever. But you got through that, right? You can get through anything, Blair. Toronto ain't nothing." He joked, trying to offer her more comfort.

Blair honestly felt bad for people who hadn't experienced having a big brother because they were literally the best. He was her only one, yet his words could always bring a smile to her face. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Sam. I needed that," she replied, smiling back at him.

"Anytime," Sam said, giving Lila a kiss on the forehead. "Hey, if you ever need to talk, you know we're just a phone call away. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"I won't," Blair promised, feeling a bit lighter. "Give Lila a big hug from me."

"Will do," Sam said, waving as Lila babbled in the background. "Take care, sis."

"You too," Blair said, ending the call and setting her phone down on the coffee table. She took a deep breath, looking around her tiny studio apartment. The walls were still bare, and the only furniture she had was a small bed and a desk. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

A new start. Her new start.

***

Auston

SCOTIABANK ARENA

Auston Matthews was always straightforward with people. He thought that was a good quality, but recently, it seemed quite the opposite. His friends liked him, though, even though they butted heads sometimes. That made him not an asshole, right?

Through some light stalking, Auston had found Blair's Instagram the next day, and was actively scrolling through it, hunched over and everything while in the locker room. He didn't have shame doing it, because they might not have liked each other, but damn she was hot.

It started innocently, perhaps curious, when he searched her name at the gym the night before and saw that Mitch had already followed her. He even looked around before he tapped on it to make sure no one was looking, even though he was the only one there, and he'd been hooked ever since.

It was surprising that he wasn't drooling currently, as he was elbow-deep in her feed fifteen minutes before warmups. Mitch, who had been trying to hype the whole team up for their season home opener, frowned when he saw Auston didn't even glance up from his phone.

"Yo, Matthews!" Mitch exclaimed, trying to get Auston's attention. Auston glanced up, trying to find the source of the noise. His eyes scanned the room until they met Mitch's, whose eyes narrowed at Auston. "What?" Auston said, his tone annoyed.

"What?" Mitch mimicked Auston, mocking him as he rolled his eyes, "We have a game in fifteen minutes and you're glued to your phone. What's so interesting, anyway?"

Auston put his phone down on the bench as he started to put a glove on. "Nothing. I mean, nothing important. It can wait." He stated.

William Nylander, another one of their teammates, took the opportunity to snatch Auston's phone on the bench. He thought it would be an innocent prank to get him to flinch, but his face lit up when he saw it was still unlocked.

"Aw, you guys gotta see this," William said, quickly standing up and holding the phone out of Auston's reach.

Auston lunged for his phone, but with his gloves on, it was a futile effort. "Willy, fuck off and give it back." he snapped, his annoyance evident.

William grinned mischievously and darted away, holding the phone high. "What are you so worried about, Auston? Is it your secret mistress?" he joked, drawing the attention of a few other players in the locker room.

Mitch stepped forward, grinning at William's antics. "Let's see what's got our boy so hooked," he said, grabbing the phone from William's hand before Auston could protest.

The room fell silent as the players gathered around Mitch. Auston could only watch in horror as his teammates stared at Blair's Instagram feed. A few chuckles broke out, and Auston's face flushed with embarrassment.

"Man, she's cute," William remarked, nudging Auston playfully as he handed his phone back. "No wonder you've been glued to your phone."

Auston felt his frustration bubbling within him as he finally snatched the phone from William's hand. "I know she's cute, that's why I was looking at it, genius. No other reason."

"Whatever you say, buddy," Mitch said, rolling his eyes as he put his own gloves on, "No harm in trying anything, right? I mean, no rules are saying that we can't–"

Auston sat up from the bench quickly in his defense. "I'm not–" He paused, looking around to see that everyone's eyes were on him which made him decide to sit back down, "I'm not going to try anything, okay? I can do way better than some figure skater media manager or whatever."

The locker room fell into an awkward silence after Auston's defensive outburst. Mitch exchanged a glance with William before deciding to break the tension.

"Alright, let's get our heads in the game," Mitch said, clapping his hands to grab everyone's attention. "We have a season opener to win."

Auston kept his head down, focusing on putting on the rest of his gear. The other players started to shift their attention back to the game, the momentary distraction fading away. Auston could feel the weight of their looks, though, and he knew he'd have to find a way to get everyone to forget about it.

And he knew how to do that, precisely. He had to push away the subject – Blair – as much as possible, and that's exactly what he was going to do.

Tagged Location: Toronto, Ontario

austonmatthews: Thanks for the awesome home opener 💙🤍💙 @/morganrielly @/marner_93

♥ Liked by marner_93, williamnylander, and 73297 others.

Comments: marner_93: 🔥🐐💯

mapleleafs: Leafs nation has the PASSION

random: Auston one chance please

matthewknies: Arizona boys doing what they do best ↳ williamnylander: ice hockey...? ↳↳matthewknies: shhhhh

random: cup this ssn!? ↳ random: 1967

---

BAR DEM

"Another round?" William cheered loudly, urging his teammates on as he flipped his head of sweaty blond hair back. He was drunk – quite literally the entire team was as they celebrated their season opener win, and had what seemed like too many rounds of shots in the upscale bar downtown. Another one couldn't hurt, right?

Auston nodded towards William, approaching the bartender and placing his forearm on the sticky bartop, his credit card placed deliberately between his fingers. He waved over the young woman manning the bar until she noticed him, brushing her hair over her shoulder as she stood infront of him. "What can I get ya?"

Auston smirked, his eyes scanning the bartender head to toe. "Another round of shots for the best puck players in the league," he said, his words slightly slurring together at the end. He gave the bartender a wink before handing over his credit card.

Auston's inner dialogue, although absolutely plastered, was screaming at him to not do something he'd regret, but he decided to ignore it. The bartender flushed as she quickly pulled out the shot glasses from under the bar, then bent over slightly to grab the team's choice of tequila from the wall of alcohol. Auston's eyes, unfortunately, betrayed him at the moment but eventually found hers again. "What's your name, baby?"

The bartender's cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she glanced up at Auston, her movements slowing as she poured the shots. "It's Natalie," she replied, avoiding his gaze momentarily before meeting his eyes again with a shy smile.

Auston grinned, unapologetically eye-fucking the bartender once again. "Nice to meet you, Natalie. I'm Auston."

"I know who you are," she said, her voice barely audible over the noise of the bar. Auston raised a brow, leaning closer to Natalie, "Really? Then who am I?"

Natalie's blush deepened as she filled the last shot glass. "You're Auston Matthews. Everyone here knows who you are," she replied, her voice steady despite her shyness.

Auston adjusted his ball cap, which he was wearing backward before he focused on Natalie again. Even while wasted, he couldn't lie – he loved the attention. "Well, it's nice to know I'm famous," he joked, his words still slurred. "When do you get off tonight?"

Natalie hesitated, glancing around to see if anyone was watching her too closely. She met Auston's gaze again, her blush deepening. "Couple of hours," she said quietly, trying to maintain a professional demeanor despite her flustered state.

Auston grinned wider, sensing her interest. "Maybe you can join us for a drink later," He said, his gaze flickering to her lips for a split second, "We could... get to know each other."

Natalie bit her lip before rolling her eyes, "We'll see," She said, swiping Auston's card through the machine and turning the tablet around for his signature. He frowned slightly, scribbling on the screen before Natalie slid the tray of shots toward him, "Have a good night, Mr. Matthews."

Auston opened his mouth to reply to her, but before he could, Mitch yelled from their booth and waved Auston over. "Auston, stop hitting on the bartender and bring us those shots, would you?"

Auston rolled his eyes at Mitch's interruption but grabbed the tray of shots and made his way back to their booth. The rest of the team cheered as he approached, slapping him on the back and grabbing their glasses.

"I had this grreatt idea, Auston," Mitch started, right after he downed the shot the second he got it, "You've got the hots for our new media manager right? Well... I have her number!" He slurred, the alcohol clearly hitting him as much as anybody else.

"Okay?" Auston replied without missing a beat. He had an uncanny ability of being able to look like he didn't care about things, even if he did, and this was one of those times. "Why? And... how does this affect me?"

"I'm a nice guy, I make it my personal duty to get to know everyone on staff," Mitch leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper despite the loud music and chatter around them, "And, how does this affect you? Come on, you were looking at her pictures with more passion than you play our game, Tone."

Auston's jaw tightened as he sat back on one of the worn-out leather sofas, "I don't want anything to do with that prissy 'businesswoman'" He scoffed, using his fingers to make mock quotations.

Mitch rolled his eyes, talking louder this time. "Well, here's your one chance then. I've got Blair's number right here," he said, pulling out his phone and waving it teasingly in front of Auston.

Auston hesitated for a moment before snatching the phone out of Mitch's hand, his fingers fumbling on his own phone screen as he copied the number down. Yeah, okay, he might've absolutely detested the thought of actually being with someone like Blair, but casual, no-strings affairs were his specialty.

After he was done, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and handed Mitch's back. "There. Now fuck off and let's have fun, yeah?" He said, to which Mitch gave him a smirk back.

***

Blair

PRIVATE MESSAGES 2:43 AM

???: I got your number babe Cnt fuckin believe he gotb to yous before meeee Gna tell his wife lmaoooo Im sooooo fuckshng wastped rnight nkowww I took thnis grl hime Can't stolp thisnkinf aboust u thouglh Need a girl likes u in my lifne

8:01 AM

Blair: What? I think you have the wrong number And, word of advice, never drunk text someone ever again.

436 TRINITY-BELLWOODS

Blair woke up to her alarm. She squinted at the bright screen and saw several messages from an unknown number. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to make sense of the jumbled text, feeling a mix of confusion and annoyance. Who would send something like this at such an ungodly hour?

Setting her phone back on her nightstand, Blair groaned and rolled out of bed. The small studio apartment felt even tinier in the morning light, but she had no time to dwell on that. She had her first full day at work ahead of her, and she was determined to make a good impression despite the rocky start with the team. Or, atleast, with a certain person.

She had been in Toronto for about a month now, and it felt as if she hadn't gotten a good nights sleep since. The sooner she got more comfortable with her new place, the sooner she'd be comfortable in her new life.

She quickly showered, dressed in a professional yet comfortable outfit, and made herself a quick breakfast. Her phone buzzed again, and she reluctantly picked it up.

PRIVATE MESSAGES 8:32 AM

???: Oh fuck My bad Right number tho This is Auston Matthews

Blair: Did you even read what you texted me? Completely inappropriate. Who gave you my number?

Fivehead: Look, I'm sorry. Was pretty wasted last night. Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable Or whatever Read 8:34 AM

Fivehead: Mitch did. He was also pretty drunk

Blair: Asshole.

Fivehead: What?

Blair: What?

Fivehead: Me or him?

Blair: Him.

Fivehead: Oh, so I'm not an asshole?

Blair: No, you too.

Fivehead: You can't just call me an asshole

Blair: Who's stopping me?

Fivehead: I could get you fired.

Blair: You wouldn't do that. I thought you said you needed a girl like me in your life?

Fivehead: Better stop talking before I actually do it.

Blair: Make me.

Auston's typing bubble came up for a few moments, then stopped, but his reply came a couple of minutes later.

Fivehead: Whatever you say Cya in a few, princess Or would you prefer "your majesty" ? Read 8:42 AM

--- SCOTIABANK ARENA

Blair hunched forward in her office chair, the clacking of keyboards around her becoming more irritating by the second. She was told she would have her own office, but today, since renovations were going on, the general manager sent another woman to share the space with Blair.

The red-headed woman who went by the name of Jess was nice enough, but she was so focused that it drove Blair nuts. I mean, seriously, in the three hours they'd been at work, she hadn't stopped typing - other than when she would take sips of her strong-smelling herbal tea.

That's why when someone knocked on the door, Blair immediately shot up, thankful for a sound other than that goddamn keyboard. She quickly scurried to the door, passing by Jess who was unbothered by the distraction.

Blair opened the door to see Auston Matthews standing there, leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin on his face. She fought the urge to roll her eyes as she took a step back, crossing her arms, "Can I help you?"

Auston's grin widened as he took a step into the office, closer to Blair. "Thought I'd come say hi. You know, our last interaction wasn't all that great."

Blair raised an eyebrow, her arms still crossed. "And texting me at 2 am drunk off your ass, trying to fuck me is what you consider 'not all that great?'" She replied, using her fingers to make mock quotations.

Auston's grin faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, adopting a more serious expression. "Okay, I get it. I was an asshole, and I'm sorry. Can we start over?"

Blair rolled her eyes, "I don't think I can after that string of texts," She said, walking forward to back Auston out into the hallway. She shut the door halfway before continuing, "Do you need anything? Or are you just here to distract me."

Auston chuckled and rolled his eyes back. "Yeah, actually. We need you downstairs. Something about an on-ice interview for TikTok?"

"Are you serious? I have to get on the ice? I don't even have skates." Blair remarked, slightly panicked. Auston, oblivious to the discomfort he had caused, motioned for her to follow him. "We're a hockey team. We have extra skates for everyone, come on."

Blair reluctantly followed Auston downstairs to the ice. There, she found no other players or people at all, just a selfie stick with a company phone lying by it on a bench. She turned to Auston, quite practically fuming at this point, "Small budget, huh? And I have to interview you?" She said, to which he nodded, "You didn't mention that! You said-"

"These should fit, ma'am." An equipment person interrupted, holding out a pair of white hockey skates.

Blair forced a smile as she took them and thanked the employee before turning back to Auston, "You really should work on your communication skills," she muttered, sitting down on a bench to put the skates on.

Auston smirked, leaning against the wall. "You're a fast learner. You'll be fine."

Blair rolled her eyes, trying to focus on lacing the skates, but she very quickly realized that these were very different to figure skates. She swallowed hard, not looking up as she struggled to figure out a way to make sure they stayed on.

Seeing her struggle, Auston sighed and walked over. "Let me help," he said, kneeling down in front of her.

"I don't need your help." Blair muttered, quickly angling herself away from where Auston had knelt down.

Auston chuckled softly. "You're not going to get far if you can't tie them properly," he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. Blair huffed, realizing he was right but still not wanting to be in this situation in the first place. Reluctantly, she turned back towards him, allowing him to help.

Auston expertly laced the skates, his fingers moving with practiced ease. Blair watched him silently, feeling a mix of frustration and just straight up hatred. Once he finished, he stood up and offered her a hand. "Ready to go?" he asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Blair looked at his hand, and then back up at him before completely disregarding his help and getting up on her own, although it wasn't easy in the new bulky skates.

"Always so independent, huh, princess?" Auston said, trying to hold back his laughter as Blair wobbled trying to walk out to the ice.

Blair managed to steady herself, her annoyance bubbling just beneath the surface. "Whatever, let's just get this over with."

***

Auston

YYZ - TORONTO PEARSON INTL. AIRPORT

Roadies - an inevitable event for a hockey player.

Usually, the Leafs schedule tried to make it so that they'd visit multiple cities during a roadie, getting it all over with and rewarding them with a long homestand, which is the way most of the players liked it. Today, though, they had a one-off trip down to Raleigh, just to fly back the same day.

Auston had decided to engross himself with his teammates today and pretend to be humble, flying on the team plane instead of his own private jet. He trudged on, a backpack slung over his shoulder and his dark hair sticking out of the beanie he was wearing.

Since he was running late, no one saw him at the terminal or even expected him to fly with them, so when he walked on everyone turned their heads. Mitch even shot to his feet, tilted his head in confusion, then finally waved him over.

Auston took a deep breath, hoping they would just talk normally, about the game or something, but braced himself for the inevitable other conversation as he walked down the aisle.

Mitch grinned widely as Auston approached, clearly eager to tease him. "Look who decided to slum it with the rest of us," he said, playfully nudging Auston's shoulder as he took a seat next to him.

Auston chuckled, shoving his backpack into the overhead bin and plopping down in the seat. "Yeah, yeah, I figured I'd give you guys the pleasure of my company for once."

Mitch's grin widened as he leaned back in his seat, rolling his eyes. "Pleasure, huh? More like a rare sighting of the famous Auston Matthews. What's next, you actually sitting with us on the bus?"

Auston rolled his eyes, adjusting his beanie. "Don't push it, Marner."

William leaned over the aisle, holding out his phone with a grin as wide as Mitch's. "This you?" He said, gesturing to the screen. Auston furrowed a brow as he leaned closer, but when he saw the Maple Leafs TikTok and a nicely manicured hand in frame along with Auston himself, he immediately looked the other way.

Auston groaned inwardly, realizing that the infamous TikTok interview had made its rounds. "Yeah, that's me," he said, pretending to not care as he slouched in his seat. "What's your point?"

William chuckled, pulling his phone back. "What's my point? Dude, are those hockey boots she's wearing? How'd you get Blair to do that?"

"Crazy thing, Willy, normal people don't carry skates around with them," Auston replied, his tone slightly annoyed, "She had to borrow them from equipment. No big deal."

William raised his hands in mock surrender, "Alright, don't kill me, but damn, I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little scared of her."

Auston scoffed, scratching his cheek. "Scared of her? What's there to be scared of, Willy?" He remarked with a passion. Auston, if asked, would describe Blair as many things, but 'scary' was not one of them."

William leaned back in his seat, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that she seems to have no problem putting you in your place?" he teased, drumming his fingers on the tray table, "I mean, seriously, who ever tries to put you in your place? I don't know why we haven't started calling you Mr. Ego yet."

Auston shook his head defensively, "First of all, ouch, and second of all, there's a difference between 'putting me in my place' and just being annoying and bitchy," He sat up slightly, his posture straightening, "And which one is she, again?"

William chuckled, clearly enjoying Auston's discomfort. He folded his arms casually. "Come on, Auston. You've got to admit, she's got you wrapped around her finger."

Auston scowled, his annoyance growing. "I am not wrapped around anyone's finger, Willy. She's just...holy shit." He suddenly said, catching a glimpse of Mitch's phone beside him.

Tagged Location: Toronto, Ontario

blairhanson_: last warm day ever :(

♥ Liked by han.samwich, marner_93, and 1072 others.

Comments:

random: holy

han.samwich: Come back to van pls, it may be rainy but atleast it doesn't snow

↳ blairhanson_: It's also a complete ripoff of a city I fear

↳↳han.samwich: Fair point, Canucks better though

↳↳↳ marner_93: Ouch

↳↳↳↳ han.samwich: MITCH MARNER ????

random: what a hottie, age?

williamnylander: make me look this good on the ice please

↳ blairhanson_: I will try <3

---

"Hmm?" Mitch said, straightening his head up from his phone, seemingly inconspicuous to Auston's reaction.

"Give that to me." Auston muttered, ripping the phone from Mitch's hand and holding it up to his own face. It was a simple Instagram post from Blair, nothing overly special, but Auston found himself unable to rip his eyes off of it.

It only took a few moments of Auston gawking at Mitch's phone before everyone burst into laughter, including other members of the team around them. "See something you like?" Mitch teased.

Auston felt his face heat up, but he quickly regained his composure, throwing the phone back at Mitch. "Whatever, man. Just checking her out. Nothing wrong with that."

Mitch caught his phone, grinning ear to ear. "Sure, Tone, sure. You're just checking her out for work purposes, right?"

Auston rolled his eyes again, slouching further into his seat. "You guys got me fucked up if you think I've never seen you checking out a pretty girl before."

"Yeah, but I think her eyes are up there," William remarked, looking over at Mitch's phone where the photo was still pulled up. He looked at Auston, then at the photo, then back before smiling. "You think she's pretty?"

"Fuck, I..." Auston facepalmed, running his hands down his face. He couldn't believe he was in a situation where his teammates were bugging him about a girl, at their big age. "She's not bad to look at, okay? Can we drop it?"

The laughter from his teammates finally began to die down as everyone took their seats. "Okay, we'll stop... for now." Mitch conceded.

---

RALEIGH, NORTH CAROLINA

The Leafs took a tight victory against the Hurricanes that night in Raleigh, with a final score of 5-4 in overtime and a surprising Auston Matthews hat trick.

Fans in the arena booed him as he left the ice, but he didn't care. Drenched in sweat, he trudged into the visiting locker room with a big smile on his face, his glove out to fist bump anyone who wanted.

Auston pulled his jersey off, and left in only his compression shirt and chest protector was given the belt by last game's MVP, Matthew Knies. "Good shit, Tone, let's keep it going back home," Matt said, giving Auston a firm pat on the back.

With a smile just as wide, Auston sat in his stall, belt thrown over his shoulder and the three pucks from his hat trick in his other hand as he posed for a photo. William, as the second star of the game, posed with him, putting an arm around Auston.

Later that night, on the team bus to the airport, Auston leaned his head against the window, watching the city lights blur by as he tried not to fall asleep. All he wanted to do at the moment was collapse on his bed and have his dog cuddle up next to him, but he'd have to wait a few more hours.

As his eyelids got heavier and heavier, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket and he shook the sleep out of him as he fished it out and brought it to his face.

PRIVATE MESSAGES 10:07 PM

Princess: No fucking way.

Auston: ?

Princess: Do I really have to post that?

Auston: What are you talking about?

Princess: *insert MVP photo*

Auston: Wow! Who are those handsome guys?

Princess: Is there one without the egoist on the right?

Auston: Sure But he wasn't the MVP Was he, princess? See the game?

Princess: I did. Can I have his number?

Auston: Willy's? Why?

Princess: He's cute.

Auston: You're cute.

Princess: What?

Auston: You can read, right? Plus I know you're just asking that to make me jealous

Princess: Not everyone's obsessed with you.

Auston: Sure. See you tomorrow Read: 10:12 PM ***

Blair TORONTO TRANSIT COMMISION - DUNDAS ST. WEST at OSSINGTON AVE

“I’m just wondering why he has your personal Instagram. I mean, isn’t he basically your client?” Sam asked, holding his phone up to his face while he sipped a frozen margarita. Blair’s entire family had decided to go on an impromptu trip to Cancun, and when she realized her work schedule interfered heavily she was devastated. So, instead of tan lines and sun-bleached hair, she was doomed to a gloomy November in Toronto. 

Blair was looking up at the directional signs as she tried to navigate her way through the busy subway station while her brother was on FaceTime. The 8 a.m. rush was definitely a real thing, and being in a new city turned her around even further, “You know he’s a human too, right?” Blair remarked, her eyes darting wildly around at the multitude of directions she could go.

Blair heard Sam chuckle through the one Airpod she was wearing, “Sure, but commenting on your posts? Doesn’t he have a wife?” He replied, his words barely audible over the rush of the station.

Blair sighed, glancing down at her phone for a moment before finding the right platform and walking towards it, “Yes, Mitch has a wife, but I don’t see the point. He’s trying to be nice, and he’s a lot nicer than some of the other assholes there.”

"Okay, okay," Sam relented with a chuckle. "But what about the other players? Are they really that bad?”

Blair adjusted her bag as she stepped onto the train, glancing around for a seat before giving up and holding onto one of the poles. “Most of them are fine. I’m talking about Mr. Rocket Richard every year.” She replied, her tone annoyed.

 Sam's voice crackled through the earbud in her ear, his curiosity unabated. “Who? Oh, Auston Matthews?” He asked with a chuckle, “I thought he seemed like a pretty nice guy, through interviews I’ve seen anyway.”

“Yeah, well, the dude puts on a real good media face. I would know.” Blair scoffed, shuffling in her purse to find a pack of gum, “I mean, seriously, I wish he could be genuinely nice for one moment in his sad-”

Suddenly, Blair felt a hand tug at her sleeve, and she quickly turned on the balls of her feet to, most likely, tell whoever it is who just touched her to fuck off. Blair was undoubtedly more bark than bite, but being skittish by nature didn’t help that fact. “Hey, how about you-” She started, quieting down as she met the eyes of the man who looked up at her from his seat.

The blond cracked a smile, then laughed. And what an addicting laugh it was because Blair’s heart immediately skipped a beat at the sound and found herself smiling back. “Rough morning?” William asked, sliding his bag off the seat beside him.

Blair felt a flush rise to her cheeks, partly from the surprise and partly from embarrassment at her earlier irritation. She quickly composed herself, sliding into the now-open seat next to William Nylander. "Yeah, you could say that," she replied with a small smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "What are you doing here?"

Sam’s voice came through suddenly. “Blair? What’s happening? Who is that?” He questioned, which caused Blair to not hear whatever William said next. “Sam, I gotta go,” Blair mumbled, her fingers fumbling against her phone for the hang-up button. She looked back at the blue-eyed man, leaning slightly closer to him, “Sorry, what was that?”

William laughed, once again, which Blair simply could not get enough of. “I always take the subway to practice. I like to blend in, plus, beats dealing with traffic.” He repeated as the train began to move.

Blair found herself more intrigued by William than she expected. She wasn’t actually going to try to get to know him unless it was to purposefully get on Auston’s nerves, but she immediately saw this as an opportunity to make a friend, and maybe get some actual action later on. “You never get noticed?” She questioned.

William shrugged as he scratched his cheek, which was already too stubbly for his liking. “Nah, not really,” He started, surveying Blair as she crossed her legs, “Who was that?” 

Blair quickly dropped her phone into her bag, not wanting any further distraction. “Oh, my brother. He was just… curious about how the job is going.” She said, knowing that it wasn’t the full truth but wanting to move on from the topic.

Unfortunately, William didn’t budge. “Ohhh,” He chuckled in realization, “You told him about Tone?”

Blair shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the question. She knew that they were friends and she couldn’t reveal much about her very strong feelings about Auston without offending William, so she offered something simple. “Oh, yeah. He’s been… difficult to work with.”

William snorted, outstretching his arm so it rested on top of the seat Blair was sitting on. “You can just say he’s an ass, no judgment.” He said, casually.

Blair’s eyes widened at William's straightforward comment. She hadn't expected him to be so blunt about Auston, especially considering they were teammates. Despite her own frustrations with Auston, she didn't want to badmouth him to someone who knew him personally.

"Well, yeah," Blair replied carefully, choosing her words. "He can be... challenging at times."

William chuckled, shaking his head. "Challenging, huh? That's one way to put it. Auston has a way of rubbing people the wrong way."

Blair nodded, relieved that William seemed to understand without her having to elaborate further. She shuffled in her bag for her water bottle, finding it and unscrewing the cap. "Yeah, you could say that. But he's not all bad. I think he means well... sometimes."

William raised an eyebrow, his expression curious. "You think so? I think he’s just into you.”

Blair was in the middle of taking a sip of water as William spoke, and when the words hit her, she choked on it, a small amount of it coming out of her nose as she tried to catch her breath. 

“Woah, Blair, you okay?” William questioned, sitting up and placing a firm hand on her back. People around them in the subway stared as Blair wiped the wetness off her nose with her sleeve.

Blair coughed and cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure after choking on her water. William's concern was evident as he patted her back gently. She straightened up, angling her body towards William as she furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean he’s into me?” She said through gritted teeth.

William pulled his hand back, realizing his comment had caught Blair off guard. He glanced around at the other passengers on the subway, who were surreptitiously watching the exchange with curiosity.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," William said softly, his voice tinged with concern. "I just… Nevermind.”

The crease inbetween Blair’s eyebrows deepened as she leaned into William further, “Nevermind? You can’t just say that and say ‘nevermind’” She remarked, trying to keep her composure

William, once again laughed like he always did when he was uncomfortable and put his hands up in a mock surrender. “Hey, Bro code, I can’t tell you anything else.”

Blair stared at William, her mind racing with questions. She hadn't expected him to suggest that Auston might have interest in her, whether that be sexual or romantic or some other way - It was a notion that caught her completely off guard, and she struggled to process it.

"Bro code?" Blair repeated, her voice incredulous. "What does that even mean?"

William chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Look, I probably shouldn't have said anything. It's just... Auston can be hard to read sometimes, but I've seen the way he acts around you."

Blair frowned, crossing her arms defensively. "And what exactly does that mean?"

William hesitated, glancing around at the other passengers who were still discreetly watching their conversation. Outstretching his arm once again, he looked forward at the wall as he responded. “Okay, well, he looks at your pictures.”

Blair's mind raced as she processed William's words. Auston looking at her pictures? She hadn't even considered the possibility that he might view her differently than their professional interactions suggested.

"He looks at my pictures?" Blair repeated, her voice a mix of surprise and skepticism.

William nodded slowly, his expression serious. "Yeah. I mean, I've caught him a few times scrolling through your Instagram,” He laughed, the words keeping flowing without him noticing, “Like the other day, on the way to Raleigh, I was talking to him and Mitchy was scrolling his phone and saw your post. Auston grabbed that phone so fast, it was like-”

He abruptly stopped, swallowing hard as he turned toward Blair with a realization that he definitely overshared. “I… that didn’t happen. I just made it all up. April… fools?” He tried to lie, shrugging jokingly.

Blair stared at William, wide-eyed with her jaw dropped for a few moments before she took a breath, composing herself. “It’s November, Will,” She said, nudging him, “What the fuck? Auston Matthews? Really?” She said, more to herself than to William, but it was audible.

“Blair, please don’t tell…” William started, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. Right then, the train stopped at a station, and Blair abruptly shot up, William’s arm falling limply to his side. “I gotta go.” She murmured, quickly stepping off at the nearest door before William could get another word out. 

As Blair stepped off the subway platform, she felt a rush of conflicting emotions swirling inside her. William's unexpected revelation about Auston had caught her completely off guard, leaving her reeling with disbelief and confusion.

She walked briskly through the bustling station, one she didn’t know at all, at that, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of what William had said. Auston Matthews, looking at her pictures? Could it really be true? And if so, what did it mean?

Blair shook her head, trying to push aside the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her. It didn’t matter. Auston Matthews was the most rude, full of himself, selfish man and she would be damned if she let herself-

And then, she felt her phone buzz. As she kept her pace, walking in who-knows-what direction, she pulled it out of her purse, and it felt like her eyes were about to pop out of her head at the notification.

New Follower: austonmatthews

***

SCOTIABANK ARENA

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Auston demanded, his hands gripping the smooth, polished leather of the chair's armrests. He took a deep breath, the scent of the office's faint cologne and clean air mingling in his nose as he exhaled. Meeting the eyes of his general manager, he added, "Sorry, language."

"Look, Auston," Brad began, his tone measured, "We're not asking you to do anything outrageous."

Auston furrowed his eyebrows, his glare piercing straight into Brad's soul. "Last time I checked, I'm an adult and I can be involved with anyone I want to. Surely you can't actually ask me to do this, right?"

Brad placed his hands on the mahogany desk, the rich grain reflecting the dim light of the office. He met Auston's intense gaze with equal resolve. "Actually, we can. This is an important event for our sponsors, and it's a 'bring your significant other' type of thing. We can't have you show up alone and hit on every breathing human woman there."

Auston gritted his teeth, feeling his frustration bubbling like molten lava ready to erupt. He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms defensively, the leather creaking under his weight. "So, what, you want me to find someone to bring along as arm candy for the night? Just to make you and the sponsors happy?"

Brad sighed, his expression weary as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know this isn't your idea of fun, but it's important for the team and our image."

Auston scoffed, his gaze darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. "What makes you think that? Am I just some piece of meat?"

Brad sighed again, the sound heavy with exasperation. He picked up his phone, which had been sitting face-down on his desk, and scrolled for a few seconds before turning it around to show Auston. It was a video of him and a bartender from their post-season opener night out, sloppily making out outside of the bar.

Auston blinked, glaring at the video posted on Twitter by a fan. "Fucking hell, why did no one tell me that existed?" His cheeks burned with embarrassment, the heat spreading up to his ears. The truth was that he regretted that night, but no one knew that but him.

"You have really good publicists, Auston. Most of it is deleted; this is just something they haven't gotten to yet," Brad replied, putting his phone back down with a heavy thud. "Do you see what I mean, though? We can't have something like that surface after such an important event."

Auston stared at Brad, a storm of frustration and resignation swirling in his eyes. The video on Brad's phone was a stark reminder of the consequences of his actions, even those moments he thought were private. He rubbed his temples, the pressure building like a headache.

"Fine," Auston finally relented, his tone begrudging. "But I'm not promising anything. This is just for the team's sake, not because I actually want to be there."

Brad nodded, his expression softening slightly at Auston's reluctant agreement. "I understand, Auston. Just find someone who can handle the spotlight and won't cause any drama."

Auston rolled his eyes, leaning back further in the chair and crossing his arms tighter. "Right. Because that's so easy to find."

Brad chuckled, though the tension in the room remained thick as fog. "You're Auston Matthews. I'm sure you'll manage."

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Auston stood up from his chair. "Yeah, yeah. I'll figure it out." He turned and left Brad's office, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality that matched his mood. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through his contacts, contemplating who he could ask to accompany him to the event. As he turned a corner in the hallway, his eyes still on his phone, disaster struck.

Out of nowhere, hot coffee splashed over Auston, soaking his shirt and causing him to yelp in surprise. He heard a squeak and then a thud as his phone hit the floor. "Shit, sorry, I didn't see you... there."

Blair looked up at Auston, her eyes wide with a mixture of bewilderment and anger. "What the fuck, Auston, watch where you're going?" she exclaimed, her voice echoing in the empty hallway.

Auston grimaced, his eyes unintentionally drawn to the lacy red bra now visible beneath her coffee-stained white blouse. He didn't say anything else, only glanced around to make sure no one else was watching before opening the door to a random closet and pulling them both inside.

Inside the cramped, dark closet, Blair immediately yanked her arm free from Auston's grip, glaring at him with a mix of confusion and frustration. "What the hell are we doing in here?"

Auston glanced around their tiny, dimly lit surroundings, the smell of cleaning supplies and dust filling his nostrils. "Look down, Blair," he hissed.

She followed his instruction, looking down at her stained blouse and realizing her bra was completely visible. "Oh fuck, holy shit!" she exclaimed, her voice too loud for comfort.

Auston glanced at the door, then back at Blair, his discomfort clear. And even though he tried to resist, the sight of Blair’s wet shirt clinging to her curves did nothing less than make him adjust himself awkwardly. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? It was an accident. Do you have like, a jacket or something in your bag?"

"Close your eyes!" she squealed, feeling his gaze on her chest. "And, no, of course I don't today."

Auston squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head away to give Blair some semblance of privacy in the tiny, dark closet. He could hear her rummaging through her bag, cursing under her breath. "Seriously, Blair, I'm sorry," Auston said, his voice muffled as he spoke through clenched teeth. "I didn't mean to—"

"Save it," Blair snapped, finding a tissue in her bag and trying to dab at the stain, which did little to help. "Just my luck. Of all people to bump into—"

Suddenly, Auston put a finger to Blair's lips, stopping her from talking as he heard a noise in the hallway. "Shh, shut up for a second." He hissed, listening intently.

"Auston?" Mitch called, his voice getting closer. He crouched down to pick up Auston's phone from the floor, recognizing it from the distinctive case. He figured Auston must be around somewhere if he had dropped his phone.

Blair's breath hitched as Auston's finger rested against her lips. Her irritation was still bubbling just beneath the surface, but she kept silent, listening to the footsteps approaching the closet door. Auston kept his eyes squeezed shut, clearly aware of her presence as well.

Auston finally spoke, his whisper barely audible. "Ok, you've gotta have something to cover up with, right? Maybe—"

"Give me your hoodie." Blair said suddenly, so casually that Auston did a double take. "What?" he echoed, quietly.

"Your hoodie," Blair insisted, her tone firm. "Unless you want me walking around like this."

Auston blinked, his eyes now open despite the darkness of the closet. He didn't want that, eyes on Blair and her see-through shirt even though he had no right to say so. "I'm not—I'm not wearing anything underneath it," he tried to reason.

Blair's glare intensified. "Auston, I don't care. Just give me it," she hissed, tugging at his sleeve.

Auston hesitated for a moment, realizing the predicament he was in. He couldn't exactly walk around shirtless without drawing attention, but leaving Blair in her current state wasn't an option either. With a resigned sigh, he began to pull off his hoodie, the fabric rustling in the confined space. He handed it to her, trying to avoid making eye contact. "Here," Auston said, his voice gruff and his eyes still closed. "Just make it quick."

Blair took the hoodie, her frustration still simmering but appreciating the gesture nonetheless. She turned her back to him, slipping off her stained blouse and quickly pulling on Auston's hoodie. The fabric was warm, still wet from the coffee stain, and besides smelling like it, smelled faintly of his cologne, a detail she tried to ignore as she adjusted the sleeves.

"Auston?" Mitch called out again, his footsteps echoing in the hallway. Auston knew that Mitch wouldn't leave until he found him, and that made their predicament even worse. "Alright, Blair, just think," Auston hissed, "We've gotta figure something out. He's not going to leave."

Blair, now clad in Auston's hoodie, took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing thoughts. They were in a tight spot, literally and figuratively, and the urgency of their situation was growing by the second. She crossed her arms, looking up at him, "Well, go out there then."

"Yeah, right," Auston chuckled quietly, waving a hand as if it was a joke, but when he met Blair's gaze he knew she was serious. "You can't be serious, right?"

Blair stared back at Auston with a determined expression. "Dead serious. I need to get out of here unnoticed, Mitch is not leaving until he finds you, and the longer we stay in here, the worse it looks."

Auston sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "But you're... you're in my hoodie, Blair. If I walk out there shirtless, people will talk."

Blair rolled her eyes, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice. "Let them talk. It's not like they haven't seen you shirtless before," She paused, shuddering from the now cold stain on her shirt underneath. "What, you'd rather me go out there wearing your clothes?"

"No, of course not, I just-" Auston started, but he was cut off as Blair swiftly opened the door a crack big enough for him, hiding herself behind it, and pushing him out into the hallway before shutting the door again.

Auston stumbled slightly as Blair pushed him out into the hallway, his bare chest exposed to the cool air. Mitch quickly turned around from the noise, raising an eyebrow as he glared at the shirtless Auston that had just appeared. "Uh, hey, man, where did you come from? And why do you have no shirt on?"

Auston stood awkwardly in the hallway, his bare chest feeling uncomfortably exposed. Mitch's incredulous stare didn't help the situation either. "Uh, long story," Auston muttered, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "Just... spilled coffee and went to clean up."

Mitch's eyes narrowed, his skepticism evident. He crouched down, picking up the now-empty Starbucks cup from the ground. "This one? I didn't know you were one for sugar cookie oat lattes."

Auston glanced at the cup Mitch held, trying to formulate a response that wouldn't raise more suspicion. "Yeah, well, I was in the mood for something different," he replied vaguely, shifting uncomfortably under Mitch's scrutiny.

Mitch raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying Auston's explanation. "Right. Well, you dropped your phone." He said, stretching out his arm to hand Auston his phone back.

Auston took his phone from Mitch, offering a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks, Mitch. I've been looking for it" He tucked the phone into his pocket, glancing down the hallway as if considering his next move.

Mitch crossed his arms, still eyeing Auston suspiciously. "You sure you're okay, man? You seem... off."

Auston shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play it cool despite the uncomfortable situation. "Yeah, just one of those days, you know?"

Mitch nodded slowly, clearly not convinced but deciding not to press further. "Alright, well, see you around, I guess."

Auston's eyes widened as he saw Mitch take a step in the direction of the closet. "Mitch!" he blurted out, "Let's go get a coffee, yeah?" he suggested awkwardly, nodding his head in the opposite direction. "Spilled mine anyway."

Mitch raised an eyebrow, clearly still suspicious, but he decided to go along with Auston's suggestion. "Alright, sure. Let's go," he replied, turning away from the closet and heading down the hallway with Auston.

As they walked, Auston kept glancing over his shoulder, hoping that Blair made it out without anyone seeing her.

to be continued!

[aspirationalmess]

✿ Episode Six ✿ : This is youth.

It’s finally Stray Kids blog content time!

I think many STAY’s have come across this by now and a lot of people have been posting about it so, I’m not the first but I’m gonna waffle about it.

Their concert that took place two days ago in Seoul, Chris was talking about their song Social Path and the line “Gave up my youth for my future”. I’ve put the clip below but the translation (as provided by spearhyunnie) is:

Chris: We did give up our youth...

Changbin: Hyung-nim, this is youth. Don’t think of it as giving up your youth. You’re just living in a dream that can’t be bought.

(You can view the tweet directly, all credit of the video and translation goes to spearhyunnie for this one).

The reason I’m waffling talking about this is because what Changbin said is more true than he realises, or maybe he does realise. He was able to say what Chris really needs to hear and what STAY hope he knows. He can continue to live out his youth, it's not too late.

They’re all only in their twenties with Chris being the oldest; turning 26 in October. Not only do they have so much more time in their lives left to live but also, their time as “adults” hasn’t been that long either. If you’re considered an adult as 18, Chris is only an 8 year old adult from that perspective and Jeongin is only a 5 year old adult. They’re still in the prime of their youth.

I do think it’s important to consider the impact that working from such a young age, especially for Chris, would've had. They didn't live a traditional youth, in many means of the term, but they still have time to curate those experiences.

Considering the fact that most people don’t know what they want to do with their life until much later on, and some people never fully figure it out, I think Skz have done well to get to where they are today and still be having fun with it. They’ve achieved so much already that they have every right to connect more fully with their youth. To many people, they are living the dream - to have achieved so much at such a young age.

They sacrificed years of their life to get where they are but they are still young with the ability to live out their youth for a long time. For example, elderly people who travel a lot or engage in more “youthful” activities are considered to be “full of youth”. It’s not something that you can easily lose but rather something that you find throughout life.

Youth isn’t an age, it’s a type of experience. Youth is living to your fullest, being full of wonder and hope and excitement. Skz are still full of that and they will continue to be; but so should we.

I do think it can be a privilege to be full of youth. When you have a lot of responsibilities and stress, it’s not easy to have and in that sense, it’s easy to see how Chris gave up the youth of his teens to create his future with Skz. However, I think that people should try to retain their youth when possible because “This is youth.” Living and experiencing new things, getting excited and being full of hope for the future; that is youth, and it’s a very important thing to have.

[itsgrimeytime]

The Lover (Part Two) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!reader

1, 2...

series taglist: @catlalice

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

The Sequel to The Nurse (my series masterlist)

Summary: A long time ago, you were Rick Grimes's nurse. Now, you loved him, and he loved you. Or at least that's where you left it off. With Judith safe in your arms and Rick distinctly not by your side, you could only hope his feelings stayed the same because they sure as hell did for you.

TWs: threatening someone's life, vague mention of murder, blades, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: Takes place right after part 1. Also, I know literally nothing about Aaron and Eric so like sorry if their characterization is off. Enjoy :))) ]]

"Where is Alexandria?"

"What?" The man asked, incredulously.

"Alexandria," you restated -voice low, hand unwavering, "-I know you come from there. I've been tailing you for hours-"

"We can't just," the man paused, eyeing the axe, "-Why do you want to go? How did you even hear about it?"

You pursed your lips, replying vaguely, "It's safe, isn't it?"

The man just skimmed over you a second, almost like he was judging you, "We can't just-"

"Is it safe?" You repeated.

He took a breath in, "Yes, yeah, it's safe, but there's a system. We can't just let anyone in. I'm sorry-"

Sirens were going off in your head, as your knuckles turned white against the handle of your axe. Your eyes twitched, and your jaw set. All you could hear was Judith, Judith, Judith-

"I need to go there," you said -simply.

The man looked at you a little like you'd explode, and he was probably right, "Why?"

"I'm a nurse, or... or I was," you deflected, voice a little softer, shakier, "-I can help. Help your people."

He seemed to think on it a moment, eyeing you. There was something else, particularly tied to your chest at the current moment, but your instincts were screaming. You needed to protect, you couldn't just let them know. But he wasn't going to budge, not until you did.

Taking in a shaky breath, you pulled the axe back and hoisted it onto your belt. Walking a few steps back, you rolled your lips in-between your teeth. It felt so heavy on your tongue, in your shoulders, almost like you couldn't do it.

"I need to be safe," you repeated, weakly.

Judith was hidden but the fabric that tied her to you like one of those slings you put babies in. It's an extra layer really, to protect her, but right now it was blocking her off from lingering eyes; from an outsider's perspective, it looked like you just had supplies there. And she was fast asleep, so she didn't move an inch.

Both men were looking at you now, and you felt your footing sway. Something in your breath catching, you really didn't want to risk her. But, she needed to be safe in the long term, cared for properly, fed, sheltered-

You inhaled, eyes darting over the two of them, and carefully pulled down the fabric over her head -revealing her head and the little hair she had. Both men stalled in place.

You mindlessly repeated, "I need to be safe."

"You..."

"That's a-" one of them swallowed, "-a baby. How long have you...?"

"Few days," you replied, shortly, "-lost our shelter, escaped."

Their eyes both swam along you for a second, as you gently pulled the fabric over her head again -she was fidgeting a little (you brushed a hand down her back, instinctively). Both men seemed to process a moment, eyes hinging on her tight to your chest. You couldn't decide whether or not to tell them more, like maybe on the off chance they'd seen anybody-

"I'm Aaron," one of the men spoke, carefully, before pointing to the other one, "-and this is my husband, Eric."

The man, Eric, smiled at you; you stood decidedly still and expressionless.

"Y/N," you responded, plainly. Something in your stomach biting up (protect, protect, protect).

"And the baby?"

You gnawed on your lip, fingers tightening into a fist -back and forth, back and forth. Your tongue felt like lead in your mouth, and you just kept darting between the men, waiting for one of them to do or say something (on guard). They both did nothing, and it made you feel a lot of things at once.

"We won't-" Aaron started, "-We're not going to hurt you, or... or the baby."

Your eyes flickered along the both of them, staring. Trying to really see what they were saying, to see if they were lying or not. Even still, you felt part of you relax. It had been a long time since someone came in peace and an even longer time since you'd allowed yourself to think that they actually were.

Taking the two of them in, you decided.

With a shaky breath, you spoke -gently, "Judith."

"Judith," Eric repeated, smiling a little -maybe trying to make you feel at ease (it did just a little), "-that's a nice name."

I didn't give it, your mind chimed.

"You said," you started, cautiously, "-You said there's a system, are you... are you a part of that system?"

"We're recruiters," Aaron clarified, "-we watch groups, and see if they're a good match for Alexandria."

"Is that-" you blinked, "-Is that what you're doing now?"

"Yes, we just spotted them, not really seen much, but yeah," Eric answered -softly, "-Why? Are you looking for someone?"

You bit your lip a second, eyeing the two of them. If anyone would know, it would be them. Anybody being around here, they were supposed to find them, watch them; if they were alive, they'd seen them or would see them.

"Her Dad," you echoed out, "-and, and her brother. His name's Rick and her brother's name is Carl. He... He wears a sheriff's hat, or... he used to-"

"Rick," Aaron spoke to himself, as if he was remembering, "-Carl, and a sheriff's hat. Okay."

You took a deep breath, something in you shaking, "Do you think you'll find them?"

Eric paused, "We can't promise anything, but we'll try our best."

You nodded, succinctly. Hands shaking a little, you clenched them into fists by your side.

"Have you eaten?"

You rolled your lip through your teeth, answering shortly (you hadn't really been speaking a lot), "Yesterday... a little."

"And Judith?" Aaron followed up.

"She has formula," you answered -briskly, "-I feed her pretty regularly."

"Good, that's-" he cleared his throat, "-that's good."

You bit at your lip, taking a deep breath in. Your eyes smoothing along the two of them, you tapped your foot, and brought one hand up to smooth along Judith's back, "So?"

Aaron sighed, looking at Eric (they shared a gentle sort of glance), "Yeah, yeah, we can... we can take you."

You let out a breath, eyes foggy up a little (your lip trembling). God, she was going to be safe. You had been working so hard-

Safe, safe, safe. She was going to be safe.

You tried to school the sob that climbed up your throat, Judith was going to be fine. Cared for, sheltered. She might be the last of the Grimes (bile twisted in your stomach) and she would live. You'd do everything in your power to make sure she did. Everything.

The men looked at you a little with pity, eyes darting to your eyes -you knew them to be shiny at this point. You wouldn't cry then, though, you'd gone so far without crying-

"Thank you," you whispered, and maybe it was a little shaky but they didn't say anything (gratefully).

"Let's figure this out," Aaron started, offering you a spot to sit and seemingly some food that was cooking on the fire. They both sat on the opposite side, probably understanding your hesitance to be near anyone. It had been a few days (as far as you knew), yeah, but you'd been running on adrenaline totally and completely.

You carefully took the food, eyeing them both extensively. If they rose a hand-

"I think," Eric interrupted the thought process, "-I think it's best if I take them back to Alexandria."

"What?" Aaron asked, seemingly concerned.

"Look," he soothed, gently touching his hand (something in your mind chimed Rick), "-you need to keep watch of the group, see if they're worth entry. And-"

His eyes darted over you and Judith, particularly your eyebags.

"-I think both of them need to be safe. As soon as possible."

"Yeah, but alone?"

"They seem to handle themselves well," Eric offered, and you slowly nodded (you were used to it all at this point), "-With the both of us, we're bound to get there in one piece."

Aaron pursed his lips, eyes skimming over his husband and then you. He seemed to look at you critically. It made you conscious of the blood staining your face and the symbolic stain of blood on your hands. You'd done a lot that you would one day regret, but with Judith? All you wanted was her safe.

"And you-" he started, "-you'll keep him safe?"

"I don't know you both, but-" you licked along your teeth, trying to find the right words, "-if Judith will be safe and he can bring me there, I'll do whatever I have to."

"So," he tsked, "-you will?"

"I'd do anything for her to be safe," you confirmed, one hand gently cupping her head, "-and that includes keeping your husband safe."

He nodded succinctly before Eric questioned, "You said you were a nurse before, right?"

Your mind flashed with bloody hands, unhinged jaws, hospital beds, bordered up doors and windows. And then, you saw the same things behind prison bars.

"Yes," you answered, shortly, "-I was the medic at my last shelter."

"And when it all started?"

You swallowed, picturing locked rooms and one last patient (Rick, Rick, Rick), "I was at work. I saw the beginning of it all."

"The frontlines," Aaron remarked, slowly.

"They kept us in the hospital," you picked at the food, absentmindedly, "-I slept in an on-call room. Saw the first few where I was, rooms became cells, walkers clawed against the glass. They would tell us about vaccines, I watched them all fail."

"Jesus Christ," Eric hissed.

"But you left, eventually?" Aaron asked, carefully.

"Eventually," you put the food into your mouth, stomach screaming out. You didn't want to remind yourself of more, it made everything in you twist and pull. It made you think of Rick and Carl now, not just the death and your coworkers. You felt a little like you might throw up.

"You'll tell me if you find them, right?"

"Rick? And-" Aaron paused a moment, "-uh, Carl?"

"Yeah," you responded, quietly.

"Hopefully," Eric eyed you (maybe deciding on what you should hear in your current state), before gently saying, "-Aaron will find them and bring them to Alexandria."

"Would you?" you asked, and they looked at you confused, so you clarified, "-Bring them to Alexandria?"

Aaron looked at Eric a second, before rolling his teeth along his lips, "Yeah, yeah... If I find them, I'll bring them."

"Rick, he might," you paused, thinking of eyepatches and sacrifices, "-he might be hesitant, he doesn't... The wrong people have made communities-"

They both looked at you attentively.

"-and without... without me and Judith, I-" you cleared your throat, eyes a little foggy, "-I don't know what he'll be like. But he's a good man, a good man. You have to bring him back to me, to... to us."

Aaron nodded, eyes flickering over you, "You have any ideas on how to get him to trust me? If I find him?"

You pursed your lips, carefully thinking. You remembered him when he lost Lori, he was barely living, the only thing that kept him sane was Carl. Judith was too much for him then. He stayed sane, kept living because of who he loved.

You'd like to say that you helped, but Carl... Carl was the reason he came back at all, and maybe, at his core, Judith. And eventually, eventually, you were on that list.

"I'd never stop... I'd never stop lookin' for ya."

"Tell him," you started, hope a flame in your chest (they're alive, they're alive), "-Tell him that you found us."

[howtofightwrite]

Does Ser Arys Oakheart’s performance in The Queenmaker in AFFC (killing a handful of men and jumping clear of his palfrey before being swiftly dispatched by Areo Hotah) suggest a decent amount of martial competence on Arys’ part, in your view?

I’m going to make George R.R. Martin fans angry again and say, no. However, this is because I don’t feel any of Martin’s characters (throughout his work) really demonstrate any degree of martial competence. A lot of Martin’s characters aren’t supposed to possess any martial competence, but even the ones who are meant to don’t have it. Their “martial competence” is roughly the equivalent of action figures being angrily smashed together. For me, his fight scenes/battle scenes are the weakest part of his writing and I tune them out. Martin heavily focuses on “ironic” surprises and subversions of expectations like in the scene with Arys Oakheart, where everything is going well and then the character is just randomly and unceremoniously offed.

Boom. Goodbye.

“Like they would be in real life!”

I’m going to imagine someone yelling that because I’m sure someone, somewhere wants to.

Look, unlike Starke, I read A Feast for Crows and I genuinely have no memory of this character. They have been memory holed. They are gone. (Which is wild because I remember random minor character deaths from a lot of other major and minor fantasy properties that I read as a tween ages ago.)

The thing about reality is that real people are also capable of the following: Strategic and tactical awareness, long term strategic planning, working in unison with their fellow soldiers, and, yes, that includes knights in the Middle Ages. Knights in the Middle Ages might’ve (sometimes) been wealthy bastards, but they had to be functionally aware of violence and its impacts or they weren’t knights for very long.

Martin does not understand how armies and professional combatants function, their purpose, or their place in maintaining order in a feudal society. The irony is that politics are not his forte. His combat sequences read like they were written by someone who spent a great deal of time reading original historical accounts and not enough time thinking from the perspective of the people committing those gruesome atrocities. Make no mistake, medieval warfare was far, far more gruesome than anything you’ll find in Game of Thrones and the most terrifying part is the reasoning behind those atrocities was actually sound. Once you’re past the shock value, GOT is fairly comforting because the majority of the time no one makes sense. There’s a moral lesson hidden in the undercurrent ready to bludgeon the audience when they least expect it and all the violence works from that perspective, and all of it is written very specifically with the audience’s reaction in mind. Martin doesn’t seem to care how it works both on the technical front or in the utilization of violence to deliver narrative catharsis, he cares how the audience will react.

His violence doesn’t feel good, which is his intention, he doesn’t want it to feel good, but it also doesn’t feel bad. The violence just sort of exists.

One of the pieces of tragedy that is fundamentally important is a sense of foreboding. In fiction, death flags aren’t necessarily bad. In a tragedy, they’re necessary. Character death doesn’t need to be surprising to be meaningful. In fact, death is often more meaningful when the audience knows it’s coming. Whether it’s because they want the character to die or because they don’t want them to die. Their death creates narrative catharsis. The catharsis releases the tension, it feels good. Satisfaction through tears. When the audience and the narrative knows death is coming, it creates tension. If you invest early, the tension builds, and builds, and builds until it pops. The trouble is that, one way or another, the author has to invest in the character for that to happen. The surprise can be how the character dies, the manner of their death, and even who kills them, but not the fact they die. Shock value is sudden. The reason to use shock sparingly is that it lacks a lasting payout and eventually the audience acclimates. Too much shock obfuscates the narrative importance of a character’s death and shortens the long term impact of their loss. The impact of the death ends up as sudden as the death itself. Here, then gone, then forgotten.

In a well-structured tragedy, it doesn’t matter whether the audience cares about the character who dies or not. It helps, but the focus of the impact is on how it affects the other characters, how that loss is felt, and the way it’s internalized. An observation that’s always stuck with me is when I was in college studying Shakespeare, and my professor told us that Shakespeare structured his tragedies and his comedies the same way. They’re the same until the fourth act, and it’s the characters’ decisions leading into the final crisis which ultimately decides whether the story will end happily or tragically. All Shakespeare’s characters are important cogs in his play (including the bear.) When one of them goes, the narrative and the characters feel it. If a character is never important to the story, then the impact of their loss can’t be felt.

Martin’s characters don’t fight smart. They don’t fight cleverly. They don’t really fight stupid either. They fight with the combined equivalent of a single brain cell failing to function harmoniously. Probably the standout sequence for me that demonstrates this point is the Battle of the Crab from House of the Dragon. They had two dragons, a beach, an isolated cave system where their enemies were hiding to get away from the fire. They had corpses, and they had tar. And what didn’t they do?

Set shit on fire.

Smoke. Cave. Smoke. Cave. Smoke. Cave. Smoke.

The easiest and most low energy plan in the world that should be obvious to anyone who has ever cooked in an enclosed space. While this is a great way to signal that your characters suck at warfare, the characters involved were supposed to be the ones good at it! People being burned alive as they got smoked out of a cave is more gruesome than what actually happened and would have demonstrated the power of the dragons a lot better. Instead of, you know, the mighty House Targaryen being outwitted by… a cave.

If the dangers of dragons could be mitigated by a cave, people would just live in caves and not castles like they do on Pern.

Thank you for listening to my fanwank.

(No, the presence of saltwater would not have, in fact, saved the pirates. However, the Targaryens could have tarred the driftwood, set it ablaze, and let the tide carry it inside in addition to setting fire at every entrance like real military tacticians. Which shouldn’t be a reach given that half the army was made up of sailors.)

(They could’ve also used the crabbed up bodies for this with the added bonus of it being extremely horrifying, smelly, and gross.)

(We’re not talking about the Crab Army.)

(I mean it!)

-Michi

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

[antvmnos]

karasu

bi-han x female character x kuai liang 

summary: In another era, a powerful elder god with bravery to command and win battles, but  devised a cruel plan by Shinnok motivated by his cruel intentions, she was betrayed and killed for not accepting his deal. Now, returned by the dead and with a new perspective to start following Lord Liu Kang, she was trying to begin again and forget the painful past but her heart had other plans. 

1K WORDS. elder goddess, female gender, afab — mild language, violence, slow burn, mentions of death/blood, injuries. 

You are surrounded by this decrepit place. Limbo seemed less worse in the legends you used to hear, until the day you were confined to remain there and could see it with your own eyes. Time does not seem to pass as it should, always returning to a repetitive starting point from his ancestry to his cruel death. You are forced to watch these events beyond your control over and over again, until you remember every detail, every line, every action, finally coming to terms, long ago, that it's not Raiden's fault — he was protecting the plans, just like You would do it too, you would give up your own life if it meant peace on the earthrealm.

Just as he also abdicated yours… right?

He wouldn't make it in time.

If he had been there, could things have been different?

He couldn't. Cause you deserve to die.

It is these questions that force her to resent her unfair punishment, fueled by this feeling of hatred. Indeed, there are fates worse than death. And you are aware of this by being here.

"I can help you free yourself from this place." A distant voice speaks to you. You are scared at first, but somehow it brings you comfort.

"I know what I did."

"It was never your fault. Shinnok's vile intentions doomed you, I saw."

"Yes it was. If I had fought him, I could have avoided all of this, I was foolish and ignorant to believe that Shinnok could simply… change."

He doesn't respond or agree with what you said. The male figure materializes in front of you, and in all your existence as a goddess you have never seen him before. But he couldn't be just any deity, he wouldn't be able to get to this place if he were.

If you could blush, you certainly would have.

"If you follow me I can't rid you of your memories, but I can give you a new purpose to move forward."

At first, you looked at him with palpable disbelief, deeply intrigued. You were afraid. Fear of everything happening again, of being used, of returning to this damned place. However, something remained there. He didn't seem to be bluffing or lying.

He didn't look like Shinnok who in every measly word spat out a variety of lies to usurp power.

Something inside you tells you to believe him.

You look around you, there is no life beyond this. You were alone. Each deity, when he died, acquired the punishment he deserved inherent to his actions.

"If I accept your proposal, will I have the peace I seek?"

"Maybe… much more than that. You must walk the path for the answers you want."

He extends his hand towards her, offering a tender look that moves her, for the first time, in centuries or decades, perhaps? You don't know how to discern how much time has passed since your death. Hesitantly, you touched his hand and that place you had been confined in for so long dissolved into a distant mist.

A misty memory of a dream.

You shield your eyes from the brightness as you are greeted by the gentle wind of a morning, somewhere whose location is unknown. The world you once walked in prostrates itself before you again, this time a little different from that period but somehow familiar and welcoming. The birds chirp in a happy and infectious song while the soft sunlight touches their face warmly. You closed your eyes to taste the liberating taste of the usurped life, and for a brief moment you feel immeasurable relief at the sight of the vast rice fields and the village.

This world has changed during his absence, but at the same time, he feels that there is still a certain grace in it. Mortals have always captivated their attention in the little things, their appreciation for that land and its skills both in combat and its uniqueness.

 Your walk continues for a while longer, he takes you to an establishment. At the time of his entry, it was empty with just a few workers organizing the place. You don't understand at first his motivations for being here, but a middle-aged lady, upon noticing you, heads towards you.

"Liu Kang!" She greets excitedly. "I haven't seen him in a long time!"

He respectfully bows to her. You imitate the gesture, not wanting to appear rude.

"It's always a pleasure to see you again, Mistress Bo."

"So what brings you here?"

"Sorry to ask for one more favor out of the many I've already asked, but my guest needs to spend some time with you, if it's not inconvenient."

Her gaze flicks to you momentarily, looking you up and down, you flinch. Your clothes were not in the best condition, the kimono that once carried grace and subtlety was full of tears and blood marks, you immediately remember that infamous moment when your life was taken — the deep cut that marks your stomach. Instinctively, you bring your hand to the scar that extends from your lower back.

She was cauterized.

"Oh no, you know it doesn't bother her, on the contrary I will be very happy to help her. Gods, what happened to her? Poor thing, she looks horrible, covered in dirt and that is... Blood?"

"She… went through some difficult situations. I also hope to share your description."

You watch him without understanding why reality is blatantly omitted, he just shrugs and offers you a look as a silent request not to utter a single word.

Your thoughts are interrupted when your stomach makes a noise, as if a dark beast is living inside it.

The lady laughs.

You blush embarrassed.

"Don't worry Liu Kang, she is in good hands. Come young lady, let's prepare a nice bath and something for you to eat."

Without many options, you follow the woman into her affectionate grip. Turning to say goodbye, the god offers you a soft smile before disappearing.

[sunlightmurdock]

Operation Apollo | 2.3 | Jake Seresin x Reader

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Synopsis: After a threat is made against her life, the President’s grown up daughter gets her security tripled. Her long term detail is about to retire and needs replacing, only — she isn’t the easiest to work with. Ex-Navy and current Secret Service, Jake Seresin is devoted to being the best at everything he does. He isn’t going to let a bratty little girl cost him this job.

Warnings: age gap, power imbalance, enemies to lovers, danger and angst, guns, serious injury, mentions of potential character death

…

…

“Don’t touch me.” Your voice is dry, hoarse. Worn out from crying and screaming, breaking your hurt and cursing his name. Jake presses his tongue softly to the inside of his cheek, setting his hands in his lap, staring at a cigarette burn on the window ledge.

You’re sitting in the bay window of Allen’s youngest daughter’s room, head leaned back against the wall behind you, your heart aching. It’s raining tonight, which seems fitting. A peaceful and sunny afternoon, washed away by the events of this evening. Allen had mown the lawn earlier. It still smells of wet grass and fresh air.

Jake cracked the window a while ago to see if it would get your breathing back in check. He glances towards it now, and back at you, wondering if he should shut it before you get too cold.

Out of your dress and wrapped up in more of Allen’s daughter’s hand-me-downs, you should probably be trying to sleep. There’s no way you’ll be able to.

“I need you to know that I did everything that I could to stop it from happening.” Jake says quietly, his tie has been discarded and his jacket is downstairs on the back of an arm chair. He sits beside you now, a white shirt with a blood-stained collar and circles under his eyes.

He should be letting you sleep, Allen told him to just give you some space. He couldn’t. Even with what you had said to him, he can’t leave you like this.

“You didn’t fucking tell me.” You answer immediately. Jake closes his eyes. Exhausted, you close your eyes and grit your teeth, certain that you must be out of tears by now.

“I know,” He nods slowly. “I believed what they said — that you would be safer if you didn’t know. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, this wasn’t what they told me —“

It all feels so obvious now. Jake hates this feeling — perspective, wondering if he is a fucking idiot for not seeing it coming all along. Copper on his tongue, his ears are still ringing, and his heart is beating so fast that he can hear it.

“What did they tell you? - What was supposed to happen?” You interrupt him this time, growing tired of his excuses. You pull your knees up to your chest, drawing further from him.

Allen’s place is cozier than you were expecting. A real family home, just as warm as Jake’s. Even the clothes feel softer. You haven’t been left alone once since you got here. Allen’s wife sat with you for forty minutes, coaxing you out of your dress and into warmer clothes, washing the blood gentle from your skin with a warm washcloth.

The dull ache, the violent envy that you have always pushed to the back of your mind, it sits in your very core and threatens to consume every smiling family portrait in this home.

Jake stares at the ground, fidgeting with his hands. He can’t look at you to say it. There’s no justifying it. He wants to touch you. To graze his palm against your ankle and make you understand. He doesn’t even understand it. He knew that it was wrong and he let you walk in there.

You just can’t stop thinking about every opportunity that he must have had to warn you. Your mind goes back to the last time that you were in D.C with him. Sitting in the bathtub with your back to his chest, telling him how terrified you were.

The thought crosses your mind that he must have known. He must have remembered that conversation in the bathtub too, remembered holding you and promising you that he was going to protect you. Bullshit. Anger bubbles in your stomach, watching him stall.

“It… I was told that it was a kidnapping plot. But we had a plan, we — I — I wasn’t going to let anything-“

“Oh my god,” Nausea rising in your core, you stand up a little too quickly and ignore the head rush and black spots in your vision as you stumble back. Jake stands with you, brows knitting together as you bump into the bed frame behind you. “You son of a bitch!”

You reach behind you, for something, anything that will work as a projectile. A stuffed animal first, it hits his shoulder and falls to the ground. Then, a pen holder filled with colourful markers on the nightstand.

Manny glances up at the ceiling as a loud thud comes from above him, then winces sharply as the needle drags through his arm.

“Hold still, son, gotta make sure this is closed up and clean.” Allen mumbles, somewhat tenderly, pushing his glasses up his nose with his shoulder. He hasn’t worked with stitches like this in years. Manny doesn’t have the luxury of a hospital tonight. He’s luckily that he was just grazed by a fractured bullet, no real harm done.

“You fucking asshole! I can’t fucking believe you! Don’t you dare fucking touch me!”

They both glance up at the ceiling together as the screaming continues again after maybe fifteen minutes of quiet. More thudding as you throw what you can find at him.

Allen shakes his head, “Told him to leave her alone.”

“So, you, uh — you knew about them?” Manny’s knuckles whiten around the edge of the table, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. He hates needles. He stares at the ficus in the corner.

“You didn’t?” Allen scoffs.

Manny chuckles dryly and rubs at his temple, giving a soft shake of his head, “Plausible deniability, man. I didn’t know a thing.”

They exchange half-amused, knowing glances. This entire thing is just a time bomb, and after what Jake did tonight, it’s only a matter of time. Only now, the entire world is going to have eyes on you and your family for the next few weeks. With the election drawing to a close too, it’s going to be quite the scandal to end your father’s time in office.

Manny finally looks away from the ficus and happens to glance upwards, catching sight of the muted news broadcast on the television to his right. He reads over the information at the bottom detailing the events of the attack. Suspected terrorism. Four dead, nine injured. The First Lady in critical condition at Walter Reed Military Medical Centre.

“Oh my god,” Manny breathes out, brows knitting together. He swallows quickly and reaches for his phone. “Did — did anyone call you? — Shouldn’t someone have called us?”

“Stop — Stop it.” Jake grabs your forearms and holds them down at your sides, eyes stormy, jaw clenched. Your features ablaze, you thrash against him, trying to pull your arms free. “I’m sorry, okay? — I didn’t fucking know.”

You struggle against him, growling in frustration and kicking at him in an effort to get free, all the while still yelling. “You listened to me sit there and apologise to you tonight and you knew that this was going to happen — you let me, my family, walk in there!”

“Your family? — Your family fucking knew!” Jake barks back. It’s cold and maybe he should have lied to protect your feelings, but he’s done protecting those people. They wouldn’t do the same for you. “I begged your dad to do something, I called him every day for a week.”

You wipe the tears from your cheeks with your shoulder, sniffling as you tug against his grip. Exhaustion sets in, aching each muscle that you flex in the struggle. You swallow the whimper in your throat. “Are you kidding me, Jake? — Do you seriously think that he would let me, my mom, walk in there if he knew that it was going to be like that?”

“Do you think I would?” Jake answers back, shaking his head. Stepping closer, trying to hold your gaze, Jake wills you to see what he’s trying to show you. “I have been with you every single day and night for four months. I love you, and I’m sorry that I let you down. But I’m not lying, your dad knew about all of this.”

“I don’t believe you.” You whimper. He wouldn’t risk his career for this. You, maybe. It doesn’t even hurt you to realize. But his career? — Never.

“Believe what you want,” Jake squeezes your forearms, brows knitting together. He exhales slowly. “I love you, and I did what I had to do — but you have to trust me,I—”

“I don’t trust you!” You snap at him, voice trembling.

The door to the bedroom swings open. Allen glances between the two of you. You, with your tear-stained cheeks and furious glare. Jake, with his heart in your hands.

“Sweetheart,” Allen says softly, taking a cautious step into the room. You didn’t think you heart could have possibly sunk further. Jake slowly lets go of your arms. “It’s your mom. I think you should let me take you to see her.”

Jake thinks back to the voice in his ear, the urgency and the panic and you barely conscious enough to stand in his arms. He could have gone back, he chose not to. You’re standing in front of him now. He doesn’t feel an ounce of remorse.

You stare at Allen, wordless.

“She’s in surgery at the moment, I think that you should be there.”

Walter Reed is one of the best facilities in the country. A punctured lung is practically a broken wrist to them. A splintered bullet, sitting in three different spots amongst the large intestine, that’s complicated for anyone. It’s a tricky procedure, and she lost a lot of blood — but no doctor wants to be responsible for the death of the President’s Wife.

You’ve lost track of what time it is by the time you arrive there, still in Allen’s daughter’s pyjamas. Dropping Allen’s hand, you rush forwards and your father opens his arms. Jake tucks one hand into his pocket. Once you’re wrapped into a warm looking hug, all attention turns towards Jake.

Matthew looks at him over your shoulder.

Everyone heard him over the comms, his defiance is practically headline news amongst the White House staff. He couldn’t care less, you’re standing here to witness the trouble that he’s in and that’s all that matters.

Including this moment, Jake has seen your father hug you twice in the past four months. Your mother maybe five times. Still, easy enough for him to count on one hand.

Arms crossed over his front, blood on his collar, Jake watches your father with discontent. A furious look in the green of his eyes. He isn’t listening to the conversation that you’re having, he doesn’t particularly care about whatever it is your father has to tell you. Lies, probably.

For a man who almost lost his wife and daughter in the same night, Jake notices that Matthew looks pretty put together. Hair still styled neatly, suit perfectly in place. Not even his tie loosened.

He seems calm. Well prepared. Jake stares calmly, studying him as the two of you talk. He can’t help but wonder where all of this intel came from. These tip-offs, anonymous warnings of what was to come. All of them directed at you, not one at your father. Something that left the entire staff hideously under-prepared for tonight.

It’s absurd — a baseless and ridiculous accusation, but he’s not even sure of the motive behind all of this. Something Matt had signed off on that an activist group was upset about. That’s as much information as Jake has ever been given.

It doesn’t make much sense. That they’ve never once targeted your father in these past four months.

“Can I see her?”

“Of course, princess. She’s sleeping but you can go in and sit with her,” Matthew smiles at you calmly, squeezing your shoulder gently. “I’ll be right in.”

Eyes on the ground, you walk by without a word. You’re glad that he doesn’t reach for you, you’re not sure that you could take it right now.

“Seresin.” Matthew’s attention is on Jake from the moment that you’re out of the room. Jake uncrosses his arms and gives a nod of acknowledgement. More defiance, a blatant disregard for the highest figure of authority that there is. “Heard that you were quite the hero tonight.”

Jake shrugs.

“Thank you for keeping my daughter safe,” Matthew slips his hand into Jake’s clasping their palms together in a firm handshake. Jake stares at him, cold. Matthew leans in slowly, his polite smile fading once he is close enough to Jake to whisper.

“If you ever disobey orders like that again, I’ll see to it personally that you never work again.”

Jake squeezes his palm a fraction tighter and nods, his face stoic. “If you ever put her in danger like that again, you’ll wish you had gone out quick and easy tonight.”

“Are you threatening me, son?” Matthew squares his shoulders and steps towards Jake like he is something to be feared. Jake stands up straighter, silent.

It takes either a lot of guts or a real lack of brains to be speaking like that in front of all of these people. Matthew studies Jake. Having worked as a politician now for longer than Jake has been alive, Matt is an expert at calling bullshit.

People try to lie to him regularly, he lies to other people even more frequently. He has become pretty skilled at calling someone’s bluff. He knows that Jake isn’t bluffing.

Standing down, Jake gives your father a shake of his head and turns away. In search of a coffee machine, or water — some reprieve from your fucking family, perhaps.

“How long has he been working with my daughter?” Matthew asks, brows furrowed as he watches Jake walk away.

“Um, around four months, Sir. Since the end of April.” An assistant answers sheepishly. Four months is a long time. Matthew hums in annoyance.

“Do some digging. Camera feeds, paparazzi that we might’ve paid off — come get me if you find anything.”

…

@alanadetigy @thedroneranger @momc95 @basicchelsea @perpetuelledaydreaming @cherrycola27 @eviesaurusrex @xoxabs88xox @desert-fern @fuckyeahhangman @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @khaylin27 @cowboybarbie @someinsanefangirl @marchingicenotes7 @marantha @lgg5989 @herladyshipxx @chaoticweirdogeek @mak-32 @obiwankenobis-lap @diamond-3 @wolvesofthewinter @shawnsblue @itsmytimetoodream

[bonefall]

BB!Profile: Fernsong

(Oops I finished this art months ago and am just now making this profile)

[ID: The Better Bones version of Fernsong. He is a thick, pale golden tabby with thin stripes and a flat, round face.]

Clanmew Name: Nanyanaya (Nan, generic term for fanned-leaf groundplants + Yanaya, singing)

Old Name: Fiddles (Pronounced "Fibuls")

Alignment: ThunderClan, ex-Kittypet

Relationships: Mate - Ivypool Ex-Mate - Minty Children - Bristlefrost, Flipclaw, Thriftear Friends - Stormcloud, Jessy, Daisy, Briarlight Person who hates his guts - Blossomfall Mentor - Lionblaze

Sweet man! Den dad! Guy who gets washed in by a big flood and lands smack in the middle of a messy breakup before being getting his hardass nightmare dad-in-law assigned as a mentor!

In cleaning up the Kin of your Kin prophecy and reworking the plot of Po3 and OotS, I made it so Ivypool is now the daughter of Lionblaze and Cinderheart, and secretly the child of Jayfeather and Poppyfrost! I always found the sheer amount of kids Canon!Lionblaze has to be pretty ridiculous, since it does nothing with those relationships and makes half of ThunderClan descended from Firestar in the process.

So, instead, the tree has been overhauled and BB!Fernsong is an ex-kittypet. The Firekin family is traced exclusively through Dovewing, Ivypool, and Hollylark.

And BOY does he enter in a doozy! ThunderClan's Tempest replaces Bramblestar's Storm, now full of different perspectives as ThunderClan recovers from the Battle of the True Eclipse. Fiddles finds himself drawn to the Clan as a refugee, accidentally becoming the final straw that breaks the camel's back in Ivypool's toxic relationship with Blossomfall.

(Note: At the time, Blossomfall has a Dishonor Title, Shredbloom, for her involvement in the Dark Forest. Shredbloom = Blossomfall.)

When he finally has the chance to return home, he realizes that Clan life offers him something Kittypet life never quite did; Community. While he's not much of a hunter or a fighter, he comes to feel needed and fulfilled by the connections he makes to lots of cats within ThunderClan.

More under the cut!

In ThunderClan's Tempest, he came from the same home as Minty. The family couldn't evacuate them, because they ran and hid out of fear.

She was his mate a few times, but in the way that some kittypets of the same house are. Purebreds. They'd had litters that the humans made sure were well cared-for, brought to new homes at six months.

They had a sort of love more out of convenience and safety than passion.

When he was found by ThunderClan, they brought him back to their base in the caves, and Daisy was able to help break the language barrier.

Ivypool, still destroyed from seeing her Dark Forest mentor Hawkfrost make a stand against his father and "die," started helping Daisy out with them. At first, she just needed to feel useful.

She had been in a relationship with Blossomfall (Shredbloom at the time) for a long time, at this point, and had even begged her to stop during the final wave of the BOTTE.

In a way, Ivypool felt like she needed to "save" someone from the Dark Forest, and for a long time after, she felt like she needed to save Blossomfall from her own pain.

But it was incredibly toxic. Blossomfall was controlling, Ivypool was touchy. They were fighting constantly, and Blossomfall was about to repeat it again.

Ivypool spending time helping out with Daisy, acclimating the refugees to Clan life, learning to communicate with them... made Blossomfall jealous.

When Ivypool broke it off with Blossomfall, it wasn't because she loved Fiddles yet, thought Blossomfall DID accuse her of just wanting to move on "with the KITTYPET"

It was just because she was sick of living like this.

Fiddles happened to just... be there. They had become friends, but weren't anything more at that point.

For him, it felt good to pay her back for all the comfort she provided him, and she was grateful that she had someone without bias.

He didn't have a side yet, so when he told her that what she did was the right thing, it felt honest.

Ironically, Bossomfall accusing Ivypool of "just wanting to go googoo over the new kittypet" pushed Ivy and Fiddles closer together.

It wasn't JUST Ivypool he got close to, though! Briarlight was also starting to realize that she needed to start distancing herself from her family because of Millie's ableism... and Fiddles was there for her, too.

Emotional support king, quickly becoming friends with everyone.

The fact that he was close with Ivypool AND her sister, though?

To this DAY, even AFTER all she'd been through and having adult children of her own, Blossomfall still can't shake the negative feeling she gets when she looks at Fernsong. But she's wise enough now to know it's somewhat irrational.

The Impostor DID exploit this, however. But that is a story for another time.

What's most important is that in this moment, Ivypool, Fiddles, and Briarlight became good friends.

By the time the floods had receded and the humans were coming home, he found himself not wanting to go. Jessy was hard at work on improving Briarlight's mobility device, Frankie was taking to battle like a fish to water, and he was falling in love with Ivypool.

He walked Minty home, made her promise she'd prevent their twolegs from missing them, and headed back to ThunderClan...

Where Bramblestar made him the first apprentice of his father-in-law to be, the hardass hero of ThunderClan, Lionblaze! Gulp!

CLOSING TRIVIA

He is NOT named after Ferncloud! Ferncloud survived the BOTTE in Better Bones-- DUSTPELT died.

Birchfall and Whitewing's daughter, Duststripe (prev. sorrelstripe) is named after him.

Fernsong's name comes from how Fiddles was convinced his name referred to a type of fern. What type of fern? He didn't know!!

So when he eventually picked his prefix, he simply chose the generic term for ferns; Nan.

(Ferncloud's prefix, Marssi, is actually totally different in Clanmew. It's a specific species, Dryopteris filix-mas, known as Manfern in English. A species used in medicine for treating tapeworm.)

When I design ex-kittypets that aren't just common street cats, I intentionally avoid referencing one specific breed with the idea that this universe's history is slightly different. Fernsong is designed as a mix of an exotic shorthair and a british shorthair. An Exobrit, if you will.

I've decided to make him come from a home that bred cats, just because I think that's an interesting idea.

Not a mill or an abusive situation, but he's had a life before Ivypool, like she had a life before him.

He will be a den dad in BB. Ivypool comes in to nurse their kittens, but Fernsong is their Mi and she is their Ba.