#like i imagine they've met at parties and gatherings

[foul-milk]

Frankly, I'm surprised Lewis would have to pay for a blue check, since he's friends with Elon Musk in real life. Elon paid for blue checks for LeBron James and a bunch of other celebrities with 1M+ followers. So that seems weird...

as of right now, a bunch of ppl over 1m followers got their checkmarks back, not just the ones Elon knows personally (for example George as well). so maybe he started giving them back to the people he knows first, and the ones he doesn't know came later? i wonder what the time difference was between when Lewis got it and when George (or any other driver) because if they got it back around the same time... then Lewis is maybe not as close to Elon as we think😬 (at least not in his inner circle of celeb "friends")

[itsgiovanna]

proud of you

pairing: fem!f1driver for mercedes x mason mount

type: one-shot

requested: yes

summary: can you please write an imagine where y/n is an f1 driver and she just won her first championship from max for the first time and she drives for mercedes. mason tells how proud he is of her and how much he loves her (...)

notes: f1 and mason, everything i need. i changed some things from the request so it’d match the time of the season when the last race happens. btw: i'm not an expert on f1 strategies so it's probably lame, lol. also, there might be a pt.2, there might not… let me know in the comments! :)

warnings: fluff and more fluff, that’s all.

As soon as you’ve entered the paddock in Abu Dhabi, journalists gathered around trying to take pictures of you, being the first woman in F1, since 1976, completely changed things. From people wanting to know who you’re dating to the press speculating about the future in the Mercedes-AMG team alongside the Seventh-Time World Champion, Lewis Hamilton. He’s been someone you’ve created a friendship with, not to mention the fact that he’s a legend and you’re privileged to be learning from him. Also, he’s the reason you’re dating Mason, after he threw a party at his apartment in London you’ve got to know the Manchester United’s footballer and found out Mason is one of the most kind and gentle guy you’ve ever met, it’s been two years since you’ve met and it’s your 2nd year driving for Mercedes, everything happened fast and now you’re battling for the 1st place in the championship against Max Verstappen.

“Darling.” you’re quickly embraced by your mom’s arms in a tight hug. “We’re so proud of you, Y/N.” she says, looking at your dad.

“Thank you, mom.” you’re smiling, remembering all the things they’ve sacrificed so you’d be in F1. It’s worth it, and it’s all for them.

"It's gonna be alright, kid." your dad says, he knows you're nervous and they're too, anything is possible, in a bad way, when you're driving a car at 372.5 km per hour. "You're the best out there, sweetheart. It's a matter of time until you're winning that throphy, we'll always love you, regardless of what happens, Y/N."

"Shit, this is too much, dad." you're practically crying, but it's true, they've always been here, cheering when you're winning or supporting when you're losing.

"We love you, honey. You've been amazing this season. Have fun. Ok?"

"I love you." after a hug on both of them, you're off to the garage. It's showtime, and you're definitely not missing this one.

(...)

"Hey, you." Lewis greeted as soon as you've entered the garage.

"Hi, Lew." you're trying to be calm, despite the fact that the race is in twenty minutes, but he notices you're not 100% as you're used to be in other days.

"What's wrong?" he says, putting his phone away to properly look at you.

"I had a fight with Mason last night." you admitted, quietly, as if saying it out loud might make it more real. "I can't concentrate, Lewis. I'm terrified of what's going to happen out there today. It's not like the other races, it's the last one and I'm competing for the championship!" you're saying everything at once, taking the weight off your shoulders.

"Hey, it's ok." he hugs you as soon as you're having difficulties to breath. "It's natural to have worries, especially before a big race like this. But you're an incredible driver, and you've got the skill to win this. Whatever's going on with Mason, we'll figure it out later. Right now, focus on the track. Ok?" you've nodded, anxiety beginning to decrease. And, he was right. You couldn't let personal problems overshadow professional commitments, it's something you've always been grateful for: his friendship. While you've been emotional these past two years, Lewis is the balance for it, being rational, but caring. "If you ever need to talk or just take your mind off things, I'm here. We're a team, and that means supporting each other, on and off the track."

"Thank you, Lewis. I appreciate it more than everything, really." you've managed to give him a smile.

(...)

Mark, one of the engineers, tapped his tablet, bringing up the data from the previous races and the specifics of the circuit. "The circuit here in Abu Dhabi is known for it's challenging corners and long straights." he explained, his fingers dancing over the screen. "We've seen that tire management will be crucial, and the pit strategy needs to be timed perfectly."

"I need a car that's agile in the corners but fast on the straights. We need to find the perfect balance." you've said, getting approval from the other engineers.

"We're leaning towards starting on the hard tires to build a gap and switching to the soft, it'll probably give us the edge." Bono's voice echoes in the room. "And we'll need to be flexible with the pit strategy, especially if the weather complicates things. We'll be monitoring it throughout the race, though."

"Remember, you've got an incredible team behind you, but this race comes down to you. Max is going to push hard, and we'll need to be ready for any surprises. We believe in your abilities, and we know you can do this, Y/N." Toto spoke up, his voice unwavering.

You could feel the weight of the championship, but you're ready for the challenge. The teamwork, the strategy, and the unwavering support of your team brought you to this. You know that, together, you're predestined win.

"Let's execute it flawlessly, and let's win this championship." the team cheered, giving the confidence that you've been searching for.

(...)

The season had been a rollercoaster of emotions and challenges, but now it all came down to this race, the championship is at stake and the anticipation in the air is apparent. Everything you've worked for, the sacrifices, the late nights in the simulator, it's all worth it now.

You've glanced over at the other side of the grid, Verstappen is already in his car. He's a tough competitor, known for his aggressive driving style and determination, the battle between the two of you've become legendary, with fans around the world excited to see who's gonna win.

Then, as the lights went out and the race beggins, the thrill of the acceleration and the deafening noise of the engines filled your senses. The first few laps are difficult but you've managed to get a good position, overtaking competitors and focusing on Max, who's in front of you, not too far. The race progresses, and the championship battle intensifies. He's a relentless opponent, matching every move you've made. At any moment, the fight for the trophy could've been over. But you won't let pressure take over. With each turn, you're more confident. You've found rhythm and the car is responding to the commands, and is at it's limit.

As the final laps of the race approached, you've made the move. There it is, the opening. A shot to pass Max, and you've took it. The crowd erupted in cheers as you've surged, the two cars racing side by side, inches apart. It's the battle of the century, a test of skill and determination. With the checkered flag in sight, you've gave it all. Powering past the Three-Time World Champion, and crossing the finish line, the sound of the crowd erupting in Abu Dhabi. You've done it. You're the first woman to win an F1 championship, in the most amazing way, it's history for the books.

Tears of joy filled your eyes as you've slowed the car and got out, putting the arms in the air as the people cheered, Lewis is right behind, conquering the 3rd place on the race, and as soon as he looks at you, you're practically jumping on him with a hug.

"You've done it, Y/N!" he holds your helmet. "And, it's fucking amazing!"

"Thank you, Lew. I couldn't win the championship without you." you're crying, looking at him through the helmet's visor.

Then, you've rushed to the team, the ones who had worked tirelessly to make this dream a reality. The mechanics, the engineers, the strategists, they're all waiting with smiles, giving a tight hug, celebrations filling the air. Next, you've looked out for Toto, who believed in you from the beginning. He embraced you warmly, his eyes filled with pride. "You're a champion, Y/N!" he said, his voice choked with emotion.

In the end, on the the podium, the British National Anthem played, and the championship trophy was given to you, under the watchful eyes of the world, you've finally raised it, jumping on the stand, screaming to the top of your lungs, you're a champion now and someone who's gonna be the inspiration for future generations of women in racing, seeing the team, your mom and dad, the crowd... it's the most happy you've ever been.

Then your eyes've found something way too important to shrug off. Mason. He's got a smile on his face, probably tears in his eyes and you couldn't be happier to look at him. As you've met at the edge of the track, you've took off the helmet and gloves along the way, then jumped on him, hugging him tight and totally unconcerned about the fact that you've kissed while there's hundreds of photographers looking at both of you.

"I'm so proud of you, love." he says as he's wiping the tears from your face. "I'm sorry, I didn't think straight last night, Y/N. You're too important to me and I..."

"Mason, it's ok. You're here, and this is my greatest victory, you." his heart swelled with emotion as he's gazing back at you.

"I've loved you from the moment we met, and that love has only grown with time. But today, seeing you out there, I realized that my love for you isn't just about being with you. It's about believing in you, admiring your strength and determination, and celebrating your victories as if they were my own." tears welled up in your eyes as you've felt the depth of his affection and the sincerity in his words.

“I love you, you’re everything to me.” you kissed him with passion, Mason’s hands on your waist and photographers flashing what was about to be the photo on your phone’s screen.

“I won’t let go of you, ever.” he says, breaking the kiss.

“Don’t, I’ll pretty much enjoy that.” you're laughing, feeling him closer.

In that quiet, heartfelt moment amidst the noises of the track, you've affirmed both of the love you've got, a love that is as powerful as any victory on the track. You're celebrating the championship, not only with the world, but with the love of your life, Mason.

(...)

[nerdanel01]

Another great day to practice necromancy 💀. How do you do? 💚

So, we know that Emmrich, as an esteemed member of Mortalitasi, is expected to attend the gatherings of the Nevarran nobles from time to time or visit them in their estates. Has Emmrich ever met Lord Halkias then, I mean Agnes's father? Was Agnes present? If not, did he tell her about it afterwards?

Or maybe they've met during or after the events of The Veilguard? How would such a meeting play out, I wonder?

in short: badly! 3.5k+ below the cut

9:51 Dragon

Emmrich had been told the extravagant excess of Tevinter’s Altus class made the indulgence of the Nevarran nobility look quaint by comparison—but truthfully, it tested the bounds of his creativity to imagine exactly how that could be the case. 

At the Dietrich estate, the nobility glittered like a swarm of beetles, jewels dripping from fingers and ears and necks, women swanning in crystal-crusted dresses that gleamed from a distance like the most brilliant carapace. Two quintents had been booked, instead of the customary one, so that the music would continue ceaselessly when the first group of musicians took their rest. The wine flowed freely from two golden fountains at either side of the wide hall—both red and white. Flanking the walls were banquet tables piled high with food that looked almost too good to eat: butter and ice and sugar carved into elaborate shapes (the Necropolis; the Nevarran palace; the face of a revered Dietrich ancestor); pyramids of glacé fruit preserved at the peak of its freshness; flaky finger foods arrayed on plated towers. Indeed, it appeared that hardly anyone had touched it, preferring (if the general atmosphere of the room was any indication) to indulge in libations instead. 

Emmrich himself had avoided the wine. He had never been a wistful drunk, not really… but over the past year or so he had learned that even the slightest taste of alcohol was likely to turn him morose. 

And Johanna had dragged him here to be the opposite. It was a precarious time in Nevarra, with King Markus in such ill health, and still no clear heir to replace him. Already there were political machinations, assassinations and deals being cut to determine whom among the Nevarran nobility would be left sitting on that throne once King Markus passed, and who would wield the most influence over the country’s new regent. Worse, in recent years, the accusations that the Mortalitasi ruling by proxy through the weakened King had reached a fever pitch… not whispered as they used to be, but speculated out loud in the open. For his part, Emmrich could not say whether or not those rumors were true. That was the business of the priest-mages, not the Mourn Watch; and anyway, Emmrich had never been keen on politics. 

But, “You are charming,” Johanna had implored him, though Emmrich thought that was not quite accurate—he had, perhaps, been charming once upon a time, but he felt himself growing more and more into a bitter, withdrawn old man with each passing month. “The nobles adore you,” Johanna had continued—that, maybe, was still true. He had spent much of the past year in seclusion, and had not yet burned the bridges of amicability and influence he had so carefully built during his time as part of the Mourn Watch. Finally, the coup de grace, her plea: “Please do not make me attend Lady Dietrich’s party by myself.”

Emmrich wanted nothing to do with parties—it was difficult to imagine he would ever be light hearted and mirthful enough to enjoy the gaiety of such gatherings ever again—but he did love Johanna with a strong, brotherly affection that was difficult to deny. She had been patient with him, this past year, as he had crumbled into a shadow of his former self. For as long as she could, Johanna had shielded him from the social responsibilities of his role, giving him time to grieve Agnes’ absence and the smothering guilt he carried for having caused it. More than once in the past year, he had behaved in such a way that Johanna could have dismissed him from the Mourn Watch—it would have been entirely right of her to do so—but she had not. She had protected him. And it was so small a thing: one evening, swanning among the nobility, eating fine food and pretending to laugh at bad jokes. It would not be pleasant, certainly, but it would not be terrible. 

Or so Emmrich had thought. 

Lady Dietrich had cornered him; literally, had backed him into the corner of the room and now stood in front of him, gesturing in such a way that it was difficult to get past her. Her efforts to bed him, never particularly subtle to begin with, had become more overt and outlandish in the year since her husband had passed. Regrettably, by now, Emmrich was quite used to her flirtations; he knew how to make her feel heard without really listening, when to nod his head or smile for emphasis, when and how demure in the face of her more lascivious suggestions without offending her. He occupied her thusly now as his eyes scanned the room, wondering how Johanna was fairing.

His eyes locked first, however, on a man he had never seen before. That was odd. Emmrich had been part of Nevarran society by blood before he had ever become Mortalitasi; there was scarcely a family in the noble class with whom he had not been acquainted since childhood. And yet there he was, this old man standing beside the nearest fountain and filling a wide goblet to the brim with more wine, his wrinkled face ruddy with drink, cheeks looking all the more splotched and red in contrast with his white beard. 

Strangest of all was that—although Emmrich was quite sure he had never met the man before—there was something painfully familiar about him. 

“Forgive me, Lady Dietrich,” he interjected, interrupting her as she was telling him (rather too pointedly) that the extravagant decorations she had imported from Minrathous for the party extended even to the estate’s bedrooms, “That gentleman over there, beside the fountain. I do not think I have had the pleasure of meeting him before. Who is he?”

Lady Dietrich blinked in surprise—Emmrich rarely interrupted her, and when he did, it was often with far more grace (or “charm,” he supposed, to use Johanna’s words)—then turned to follow his gaze. When she saw the old man, her lips curled back in distaste. 

“That is Lord Halkias,” she answered disdainfully. “His estate is out west, you know. Far west, in the borderlands. Practically Orlais,” she intimated, her sense of superiority dripping from every word. 

Emmrich had not drank a sip of wine yet that evening; suddenly, he dearly wished he had. Now that he had the man’s name, the resemblance between Halkias and his daughter was undeniable: the arch of his nose, the v-shaped peak of his hairline over his brow. The deep, sensual bow of his upper lip. It was not in fact Lord Halkias who had been painfully familiar to him; it had been the ghost of Agnes, staring out of her father’s face. 

“His wife just passed,” Lady Dietrich continued, rattling off gossip; Emmrich barely heard her. “He accompanied her body to its final resting place in the Necropolis last week. Did you not know?”

He had not. He did not think for a minute that it was a coincidence. Johanna would have done everything in her power, no doubt, to prevent Emmrich from having anything to do with Lady Halkias’ last rites. 

Emmrich tried and failed to keep the bite from his voice when he replied: “He does not appear to be grieving the loss of his wife too terribly.”

Lady Dietrich shot him a glance, surprised at the uncharacteristic venom in his tone. She leaned closer, whispered to him conspiratorially, not bothering to hide her distaste: “He has extended his visit to the city. There is great speculation he has done so in order to hunt for a prospective bride—although he is kidding himself if he thinks to accomplish that aim in this household. None of these self-respecting families would marry a daughter into a family such as his.”

Emmrich was staring. He knew he was staring. He could not pull his eyes away. Could not help but think how much it must have pained Agnes, to grow up and see the resemblance to her father marked so plainly on her face—her father who had abused her mother, her father who had been anything but fatherly to Agnes herself. Who had made every effort, for his own personal gain, to see Agnes forced into a marriage that would ultimately serve him. That Lord Halkias had failed spectacularly in his aim to sell off his daughter like a common whore did not make it any less despicable. 

“Are you alright, dear? You’re looking rather pale.”

Lady Dietrich was looking up at him again, her watery blue eyes filled with uncharacteristic concern. Were Emmrich not so consumed by this feeling building inside of him (unnameable; ichorous; dark) he might have been touched. Instead, he made a hasty retreat. 

“Yes, Lady Dietrich, I'm alright—just feeling a bit peckish—if you’ll excuse me…”

And he slipped past her, making his way towards one of the banquet tables. But he had no interest in eating. His heart was racing, his pulse thundering in his ears. He held his fingertips to his temples, rubbing them gently, trying to slow his breathing. But it was impossible. The food, the drink, the luxury, the excess—and the memory, seared into his skull, of how Agnes’ father had reacted to her desertion. 

…because of course, though Emmrich had told Johanna emphatically and repeatedly that Agnes would prefer to die in the gutters of Nevarra City rather than return to her father’s estate, Johanna had sent guards to check it nevertheless. ‘Due diligence,’ Johanna had called it. 

Lord Halkias had called it a ‘grave insult.’

Among the many gems of hard, crystallized hatred that had made up the missive he sent back with the soldiers, Emmrich would never forget how he had concluded the message:

‘If that ill-conceived, misbegotten issue of mine had dared to come back here, I would have beaten her bloody and senseless for the disgrace she has brought upon our family and my own good name. Whatever was left of her afterwards I would have returned without delay to the Mortalitasi, happy to be rid of her and happy for whatever additional punishment you sought to bring to bear upon her for her betrayal and her cowardice. When you do find her, be harsh with her. Tranquility is too mild a punishment for that thankless slut.’

At the memory alone, Emmrich was clenching his fists so hard his nails threatened to draw blood. 

Food was not going to help him. Drink was likely not going to help him either, but at this point he was going to take his chances. Morose was not good company, but it was still preferable to murderous. Spinning on his heel, he let his feet carry him to the far fountain, opposite the fountain flowing with red wine that Lord Halkias was still lurking beside. Emmrich did not prefer white wine, but he also did not trust himself to secure a cup of red while fully resisting the urge to grab Lord Halkias by his white hair and hold him beneath the fountain’s surface, drowning him in the drink he was so besotted with. 

But as he stood with his back against the wall, taking polite sips from his goblet (resisting the urge to down the glass in one long swallow) Emmrich did not feel his mood mellowing. On the contrary. As usual, the drink summoned visions and phantoms, memories. How Agnes would side-step any questions he used to ask her about her childhood; the cursory answers she would give about her family, her step-siblings. The upheaval that followed her mother’s death; the trauma of learning exactly who and what her father really was; the fear and injustice and lovelessness of being kept under his roof. Her obsession with neatness, with cleanliness, with cleverness; the remnants of the impossible standards she had been held to in Halkias’ household, never good enough, never as good as her legitimately born siblings. The last argument they had before Agnes had left: “you are not my father,” the words spat with more hatred and vitriol than Agnes had ever used with him before. 

‘Indeed, I am nothing like her father,’ Emmrich thought to himself darkly, brooding over the rim of his goblet. ‘Unlike him, I loved her.’

And he should have told her that, then. Should never have tried to keep his love secret from Agnes, who had lived so much of her life starved of the love that her family should have given her, who had spent so many of her years feeling alone and was now alone again, for all Emmrich knew. 

Perhaps if she had a father who loved her, Emmrich would not have felt obligated in some way to step into that role himself. To guide her. To protect her, to watch out for her in a way that no one else ever had. To protect her even from himself, when Emmrich’s desires and feelings for her became anything but fatherly. Perhaps he could have been honest with her, then; perhaps she would not have had to leave. Perhaps she would still pass her days in the Necropolis, safe and loved and cherished by him. Perhaps….

But ‘perhaps’ meant nothing now. Agnes was gone, and more likely than not, Emmrich would never see her again. His fault. More than a year had passed since her departure, but time had not blunted the ache of her absence one bit. 

The ring Agnes had gifted him—the one he could not bear to wear on his fingers, that he could not endure the sight of any more than he could discard it—felt twice as heavy on the chain it hung on around his neck, resting beneath his shirt, close to his heart.

…and here was her father. Drunken, merry, undisturbed in the least by her disappearance. Worse than that, maybe. Gleeful that she was gone at last, that his bastard child, his eldest, his firstborn, had removed themselves from the picture and would never darken his doorway again. 

“You are charming,” Johanna had said, “the nobles adore you.” But over the past year, Emmrich had discovered he was much more than that. Capable of a darkness he had never quite acknowledged before he sank into it. He had been charming, upbeat, optimistic, inquisitive. Now, he knew he was also spiteful, prone to isolating himself from others—and, occasionally—inclined toward acts of great cruelty. 

The wine had loosened him up just enough that he no longer felt any inclination to resist those darker impulses. 

Emmrich tucked his right hand behind the small of his back, near to the wall where no one else could see it. Affecting a calm and collected demeanor, he sipped politely from his goblet as behind him, his fingers curled, wrist revolving, spinning the magic out of the Fade into the waking, shaping it into horrors. It had been so long since he had cast magic without the foci of a staff. The danger and thrill of it was exhilarating. 

No one else witnessed him, nor the curse, as it curled around the party-goers’ feet, slithering like an adder across the room towards Lord Halkias. Into it Emmrich poured all self-hatred, all his rage and his loneliness, all of his regret. Let Lord Halkias take a wife, if he so desired. She would never know a night of peace while she shared a bed with her husband. 

Johanna grabbed him by the shoulder so tightly and abruptly he nearly spilled the rest of his wine over the front of her gown. 

“What,” she hissed, low enough so that she would not be overheard, “do you think you are doing?”

“Nothing!” Emmrich answered, a little too loudly and perhaps too quickly. “I’m not doing anything.”

Emmrich could see her fighting to keep her face pleasant, just in case any of the other guests should look in their direction. But her nostrils were flaring, and the fixed grin on her face looked more like a grimace by the second. As a servant passed by them, Johanna plucked Emmrich’s wine goblet out of his hand and set it down upon the serving tray, the wine sloshing over the rim with the force of the impact. Then, with just as much authority and force, she steered him out of the main banquet hall, guiding him down the hallways of Lady Dietrich’s estate until she was satisfied they had found a corner where they would not be overheard. 

Then she turned on him. And Johanna may have been a full head shorter than Emmrich, and he may have loved her like she was his sister, but she was still utterly terrifying to him when she was furious. 

“I would not call hexing Lord Halkias nothing,” she said, her eyes shining with indignant rage. “Maker’s breath, Emmrich—the rumors about the Mortalitasi are bad enough already. Do you have to make it worse by putting a curse on one of the nobles in public? At a party?”

Emmrich folded his arms defensively over his chest. “It was a very light curse,” he lied through his teeth. This much, at least, was the truth: “He would not have even noticed it—not until he laid himself down to sleep tonight.” With a self-satisfied smirk, Emmrich could not help but add, “Or, well, until he tried to sleep. The night terrors would have kept him from true, restful sleep until the end of his days.”

Perhaps he should not have been so bold in public, that much was true. But Maker preserve him, he had been so close to succeeding, and it had felt so good. 

And he had expected Johanna—all command and spitfire—to argue back at him. Instead she just stared at him, stunned. 

Somehow, that was worse. 

“And do you think that is appropriate behavior from one of the most senior ranking Mortalitasi of the Mourn Watch Guard?”

Probably not. But sometimes, exceptions needed to be made. “I think it is entirely appropriate, given what a brute he is. You are aware, are you not, of how he violates his servants?”

Or at least, that he had violated one. Forced her into submission more than once under the hot countryside sun—

“Emmrich…” Johanna began, entirely too much pity in her voice. She closed her eyes and sighed. “This is my fault. I should have known he would be here, after his wife’s final rites earlier this week—”

“—strange,” Emmrich interjected, “since as a senior ranking member of the Mourn Watch, I’d have thought I would have known about any recent interments—”

“Not strange, but calculated,” Johanna countered, the heat returning to her voice. “Brilliant, to keep it from you. Fucking prophetic of me, really, because I just knew you would not be able to act professionally about it, to get through it without pulling some shit like this.” She bared her clenched teeth, sucking an unsteady breath in to try and calm herself. 

“It is my fault,” Johanna repeated, at last. “I should not have asked you to come. So now I will correct my mistake. Emmrich, go home.”

“What?”

The night was yet young. He had not yet had a chance to greet each of the nobles properly, as was custom. If he left now, his absence would be noticed… not least of all by their host, Lady Dietrich herself—

“I said go home, Emmrich!” Johanna was not shouting—she would not raise her voice loud enough to be overheard—but she was close to it. “I’ll make an excuse for you.”

“I don’t need you to—!”

“Agnes is gone.” Johanna articulated each word carefully, brought them down in him like a hammer in an anvil. “You are not defending her from anyone. You are not protecting her from anyone. And as I suspect she is not likely to return, you are unlikely to have the chance to regale or impress her by recounting your clever ‘little’ curse in the future. Your judgment is compromised; I am, quite frankly, embarrassed for you. Go home,” Johanna repeated, turning him around and shoving him in the direction of the estate’s entrance, back towards the street and the city. “I will not repeat myself again. And you will not enjoy the consequences if I am forced to escort you.”

On the carriage ride back to the Necropolis (the city streets at night were too haunted with memory for him to walk) Emmrich found himself replaying the argument with Johanna in his head over and over again, incensed. She was wrong, he was certain of that much, no matter how well she thought she knew him. Emmrich was not a fool. He knew Lord Halkias posed no further danger to Agnes—that cursing him, as Emmrich had intended to do, was not something he had done to defend or impress her.

But that left him with the nagging question of why he had done it. Because he did know better, or should have, had he not still been deep in the throes of his grief. With Agnes gone, his position in the Mourn Watch mattered more to him than ever. The work was the only reliable distraction, the only thing that kept his head above the waters of despair. What had possessed him, to make him risk it with so little thought?

The answer, as it turned out, was worse than anything Johanna had accused him of. It was guilt.

Guilt that he had driven Agnes away. Guilt that he had not seen her love for what it was and returned it with every breath, with every beat of his heart. Guilt that there was no amount of self-hatred or debasement or shame that would bring her back; guilt that he would never get the chance to tell her how sorry he was. Guilt for whatever it was she now suffered in the world, shut out from the shelter of the Mourn Watch that had been all she had known for over twenty years.

He could not punish himself enough for having caused her departure. And so he had tried to turn at least some of that pain and punishment upon her father.

…but what was the greater sin? To have never loved her, as a father ought to love a daughter? Or, as Emmrich had, to have loved her deeply—to have blindly spurned her love—and sent her to wander the wide and dangerous world, feeling rejected and unloved and alone?

Johanna was right, of course. No curse would ever fix that mistake.

Nothing would.

[slasheru]

do any of the characters celebrate any winter holidays? and how would the dateables react to wanting the mc to celebrate their winter holiday(s) of choice (assuming it differs from their own)

Oh this is so cute!! I love the idea of having a Slasher U-niverse-specific winter holiday, too, like Festivus in Seinfeld, lmao

TATE: Classic wintertime Christmas/holiday hater. Does the whole "and New Year's Eve is dumb too" excusing. That said, you could DEFINITELY melt him into having a wonderful holiday-time if you included him in your own traditions! His own family just made their personal Christmases horrible for him, but I bet he could rewrite some of those memories.

SAWYER: Sawyer's family is loosely nonreligious but upkeeps some of the general family traditions they've upheld (Sawyer's only a 2nd generation American on the earliest parent's side) so if you can imagine Gigantic Family Reunion Style Gathering of Every Single Cousin and Aunt You've Ever Met on both sides while trying to satisfy 17 different cultural norms at once, you'd be about right. Being from Guinevere Ranch means Sawyer associates the winter holidays with the insane crunch of the tourist/ski season, too, so I think he'd appreciate celebrating the holidays the Player's way as a bonding thing!

LAILA: Doesn't formally celebrate any holidays on her own (grew up with a nonreligious but generally small and cozy christmas with her parents/family before Slasher U), but LOVES doing the whole general festive gift-giving/parties/cozytime traditions! Laila would enthusiastically learn about AND help AND partake in any holiday traditions or ceremonies, and even spend extra time getting to know your grandma and bringing her her fave pudding to gain family favor (and/or occasional secrets about the Player). Laila also SLAYS at office holiday parties.

JUNO: Juno's entire family is generally non-religious or Buddhist on her dad's side, so they take the winter holidays pretty unseriously. Juno LOVES the tackier side of the holidays, though, and will totally do stuff like deck some actual halls with you. Might not take any cultural or religious ceremonies seriously, but will keep it to uncomfortable figeting at max.

HEX: You already know that Hex had the biggest, most spoiled holidays known to mankind as a kid, with TONS of presents. Like, imagine baby Hex surrounded by a full-size expensive Victorian train set. His parents celebrate different holidays in different ways, so Hex gets dragged into lots of stuff and can get stressed out during wintertime, so he REALLY appreciates any kind of holiday that's more of a cozy style gathering!

[geraniumplant]

[Hey. So. About that prompt No. 8....]

Vash Saverem stands there, talking. He's cheerfully oblivious to the mistletoe dangling above his head. It's plastic, of course. Corporate can't be bothered to get the real stuff. Wolfwood thinks he can even spy a layer of dust powdering the decor's velvety red ribbon, but it's being a cheap imitation doesn't negate its symbolism.

He decisively downs his punch. It's part of the process - part of psyching himself up to approach the most beautiful blonde in the room. He swallows, locks his jaw, and crushes the empty paper cup as thoroughly as its liquor content has crushed his inhibition. Then he's off, weaving through a crowd of faceless colleagues to claim the angel they've been entertaining. 

His steps slow to a polite stop when blue eyes flicker to acknowledge his arrival. Vash is finishing a laugh. His smile is wide and open, expression bright. They've never met, but Wolfwood knows enough to want him. Vash illuminates the space whatever space he occupies and draws people to him like moths to firelight. Nicholas has no right to be so close. No right to taste that kind of charisma, but he leans to do just that. 

Life's too short to be shy.

‧˚❀‧˚. ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ It's not so much that I like these parties, but they're a necessary evil when your brother is a big deal in the corporate world. The people here are fine. Polite. I'm playing the part of the CEO's friendly brother, here to make sure my fellow employees are happy. I listen to their jokes & converse with practically every face in the room, doing what my brother doesn't have time for. I volunteer for each coffee run to the point where it's now expected of me. I'm happy to do it. The toner is low on the copy machine? I get right to fixing that, regardless of the ink staining my clothes. Clumsy me. The truth is I was hired for my charisma & not much else. A background in Plant engineering doesn't necessarily translate well to the office world.

Sometimes I think their smiles are as fake as mine. They have to be. People can't always be this happy to see me. Not you though. The slight curve of your mouth is the only genuine response here. It's a gentle smile, made by someone who was probably humbled by the world & the harsh obstacles it threw at you. I notice it when you talk to your brother. It was with him I saw you laugh for the first time. We were at the bar after one grueling day of negotiations with the company's investors. Your head flew back & your hands were thrown over your belly, & your posture was much lighter. I couldn't hear you then in a sea of people but you looked like a different Nicholas Wolfwood.

I'm sure you don't notice when I look your way, but that's probably because you don't seem to be in your element at these types of gatherings. As for me, I try to be as comfortable here as I can be.

You'll have to forgive my surprise when you come up to me. It isn't until Meryl points out the mistletoe that I understand what's going on, a full twenty seconds of me staring up at the fake plant then turning my attention to you.

When did you get so close?

It's an opportunity to do something I haven't been bold enough to try yet. I've imagined what kissing you must feel like -- if your lips are as soft as they look. But twelve-plus pairs of eyes are planted on me. & nerves. Oh, the nerves. I chalk it up as tradition & meet you the rest of the way so our mouths touch. Someone behind me whistles for lingering & my cheeks burn that would rival the sun.

Your lips are wonderfully soft.

[t1meslayer]

We're so back.

Please ignore the five Pokemon stories that I posted before "Neurocysticercosis" to celebrate leftover sales for PokéPocket. I probably won't be doing a Debrief for them since the collective is kind of its own thing.

But actually, don't ignore them. Go check out PokéPocket! Leftover sales run until July 31, 2024!!!

... That's not what I've gathered you all for today, though. No. If you haven't read my latest JJK fanfic, "Neurocysticercosis," what are you waiting for? Jump on that, and then jump into my little-a Read More below!

===

I made this joke in the opening Notes. However, I do once again have to point out:

What can I say?

It's very funny to me.

I'm also a big fan of Jujutsu Kaisen (don't mind the fact I misspelled it "Jujitsu" in the original AO3 summary), there's just too many things occupying my brain at a given time to write about it often.

My first SatoSugu fic "Infinitesimal Distance" came together soon after I learned my good friend and beta reader (you know who you are) also rotates those boys around in their brain. I had just gone to a Kura (revolving sushi bar) JJK crossover event. I won myself a Megumi figure and a felt hat.

Though I can't recall the exact impetus for that story idea, I do love the way it turned out. There's fun bits of horror storytelling, some of the dialogue is pretty sharp, and I leaned on the knowledge of a friend who lived in Japan to set the stage around Tokyo's Shinagawa city. The story wound up being pretty popular on AO3 too, garnering over 460 Hits and exactly 38 Kudos (as of this writing).

More importantly, it was a big hit for the birthday coalition of spiders.

Furthermore, it was a big hit for my friend who lived in Japan — surprise, she's the other birthday haver! To this day she considers "My fingers glide over you like a redacted passage" to be the greatest piece of prose I've ever written. I don't disagree, but you should've been there the night she beta read the piece, interrupting every other event going on in our friend group's VC just to hype me up.

So naturally... I didn't write any more JJK for seven months. This doesn't mean further ideas weren't festering in the back of my mind.

My original idea for "Neurocysticercosis" was pretty simple: Geto and Gojo are in some kind of art exhibit, Geto gets existential about humanity, and then it's revealed they've been fucking around while Shoko gets her ass beat by the Cursed Spirit of the week.

Shoko's brief beat-to-shit cameo was planned from the beginning. Sorry about that, Shoko fans.

That being said, a lot of my original idea didn't pan out as expected.

Late into the story, Geto makes this comment:

"Ask the average human what they think a 'living wall' is, and they'll talk up woven ferns and grass climbing up the side of their high-class mart. Pedestrian. Laughable. Imaginations stretched so thin within their walnut-sized brains that they couldn't begin to fathom what you and I see every day. Real living walls of scar tissue and rotting tendons and bloodshot, oozing eyes."

I originally wanted Geto to be observing a Living Wall, akin to San Francisco's Museum of Modern Art (I visited the museum with birthday friend and one other member of our group a few years ago).

However, I couldn't necessarily plop Jujutsu High students in the middle of San Francisco without over-scoping my vision through explanatory storytelling. And I was having some trouble finding good examples of Living Wall installations in Japan.

Then my fate turned on a dime one legendary night this February, in which I attended a Lord of the Rings watch party for another birthday. At that party I met an excellent cosplayer who, naturally, also happens to love Jujutsu Kaisen. We shared "Infinitesimal Distance" live, and I told them about the idea I was gestating on for a future SatoSugu piece. The current gift fic recipient recommended using the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Art as a setting that would make sense for Gojo and Geto to canonically visit.

The rest, as they say, was history.

Once we started approaching her birthday, I knew what I had to do. We haven't finished the 2014 series Black Sails (her current obsession) together, so Plan A was not viable. Plan B was a go.

Having decided to go with an entire art gallery, this meant I needed to pick actual art. Now... I enjoy an art. I appreciate a good drawing. Sometimes I create my own art, especially ceramics. However, I am not a well-versed scholar in art history. This is an especially big roadblock when I have to try and come up with an artist whom folks might see in Japan circa-2008 — around the time when Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto are in Jujutsu High, as I understand. Not to mention the fact I can't ask my friend since she's the one this fic will be a present for.

My solution?

I kind of just looked up lists of the most influential modern Japanese artists and scrolled a couple of listicles, digging deeper into a few people whose work stood out. Much of that Googling took place over the course of a big family dinner for Father's Day this year.

I sorted through a number of names, including — but not limited to:

Tsuguharu Foujita

Tetsuya Ishida

Tadanori Yokoo

Makoto Aida

Yasumasa Morimura

However, as you all have read this fic (you better have!), you'll know I focused on the work of Chiho Aoshima. The compositions and color in her pieces really struck me, and the surrealist, often beautifully monstrous subject matter felt like a perfect match for the JJK universe.

In particular, this story revolves around A Contented Skull (2003):

Originally I chose this piece as a striking work that would be fun to describe. However, as I began to describe it (during a car ride across the Washington countryside), patterns began to emerge. I realized very quickly that A Contented Skull slots perfectly into foreshadowing the ultimate fate of Suguru Geto.

That's right, it's no longer just an opportunity to have Geto wax poetic about his feelings on humanity, and to reflect all the fucked-up shit he and Gojo experience. We've also got themes in this bitch. Themes of fate and autonomy and death, not to mention parasitic brain worms.

The fic's title is even a reference to a parasitic brain worm. If you had no idea what "Neurocysticercosis" was before now, don't worry. I didn't either. It was 99% big, fancy word to sound interesting, and 1% thematic brain worms.

As far as elements of the writing craft are concerned...

It took a few stabs, but I like the way I formatted painting titles to look like actual minimalist gallery plaques.

Shoko's injured, dying words do a lot of fuckery with text formatting, which I pulled almost directly from the nightmare sequence in my Pokemon ScarVi fic "Paradiso." The Cursed Spirit they're fighting is also notable. I always planned on making a centipede-esque monster, but it wasn't until I actually started writing that I realized the main image in my head was the "Charge Beam Beast" from Metroid: Zero Mission.

Anybody remember this dude? I used to play the beginning of Zero Mission over and over, so he's seared into my brain.

I'm also a fan of the experimental formatting with regards to breaking up dialogue. I finished "Neurocysticercosis" during a long train ride, only one day after I finished reading John Scalzi's The Kaiju Preservation Society. It's a fun little read by an author whose work I tend to enjoy, though given it was his COVID "mindless fun" book, I do think it leans a bit too hard into sounding like a quippy Marvel film.

That being said, he does invoke a fun mid-sentence verb through em dashes that I think creates a great flow. Tried it out here, and will mostly likely use the idea again going forward!

===

Now that I'm done with this piece, I don't know when my next JJK fic will come down the pipeline. There aren't a ton of concrete ideas in my head for the series. However, I do know it'll be time to return to some of my bigger projects...

I'm been dying to write more "Fallout" sooner rather than later.

[charlesleclerc2003]

Rescued

Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader (Platonic)

Summary: The reader finally escapes her abusive family covered in cuts and bruises. She unknowingly knocks on Jensen's door and promptly collapses.

Warnings: Assault, passing out, possible TRIGGERING content, hospital, talks of abuse, injuries, blood, scared reader, concerned Daneel and Jensen, Jensen and Daneel adopting reader.

If anyone can think of any warnings I've missed please let me know either in a ask or personal message. I want to make sur that I set Warnings correctly.

Word Count: 1,350

A/N: I thought of this off the top of my head whilst cooking dinner and thought I'd share it with all of you.

Masterlist

Requests are open

Dividers By: @firefly-graphics

Your POV

You stumbled down the road, the screaming of your parents echoing in your ears. Tears steaming down your face you glance back at the hell hole that had been your home for the past Y/A years.

It all started when your parents came back drunk, yet again. Your father had stomped into your room, belt in hand and proceeded to hit you, you had grown accustomed to it. Usually he stopped within a few minuets, but not this time. He just kept hitting, the belt leaving large welts across your back. You tried getting away but he wasn't having any of it. Pulling you back by your hair. Gathering the strength you bring your elbow back into his groin, forcing him off you.

Scrambling to your feet you push towards the front door, only to be stopped by your mother. She had a beer bottle in her hand and started hitting you with it. Breaking immediately, shards of glass dug into your skin. Blood already dripping onto the floor. Shoving her hard, she landed on the glass coffee table knocking her out cold.

Forgoing shoes you threw open the front door and bolted out into the street. The pavement was hot against the soles of your feet, but you didn't care. You would do anything to get away. Your father stuck his head out of the door and started screaming profanities at you, along with your mother. It only succeeded in spurring you on further.

You ran until you could no longer hear their screams , until your lungs burned for air and your muscles screamed in protest. Glancing down at yourself, you saw the multitude of cuts and bruises that littered your body. Even though you were Y/A you were small.

Looking around you found you were in front of a fairly large house. Taking small steps, and stumbling occasionally, you reached the large black door and weakly knocked. Your vision swam as the door was pulled open. There was a tall man stood in grey sweatpants and a black tee stood in the door.

Jensen POV

There was a light knock at the door, too light to be Jared. Getting up I opened it seeing a small girl, littered with cuts, swaying on my doorstep. All of a sudden she collapsed and whacked her head on the frame. Quickly crouching down I checked if she was breathing, letting out a sigh of relief when she was.

Pulling out my phone I called an ambulance.

"Jay? Who is it." Daneel asked walking towards me.

"She just showed up on the door step, Dee she's covered in cuts." I replied trying to rouse the girl. Nothing was working.

I told the 911 call handler what had happened and where we were, whilst Daneel kept the kids away. They didn't need to see this. Before long an ambulance and police pulled up to take the kid to hospital while the police questioned me on what happened.

Your POV

You woke to the annoying sound of beeping in your ear. Groaning you open your eyes only to be met with bright white. Closing them again a soft female voice comes from your right.

"Hey, how you feeling?"

You open your eyes again, turning your head you see warm brown eyes and flowing red hair.

"Sore." You mumble, with a small smile. Glad to finally be away from them. After Y/A years you were free, or so you thought.

"Yeah, I'd imagine you would be. Your parents are in the waiting room, they want to see you."

Your eyes widened, as you shook your head violently.

"No please, don't let them in, please I beg you." Your heart rate sped up as well as your breathing.

"Hey calm down sweetie, we won't send them in if you don't want to see them. Just breathe for a sec." The red haired woman soothed.

Nodding, you sucked in a few heavy breaths, instantly feeling calmer.

"That's it, I'm Daneel but you can call me Dee if you want." You nodded as the door opened and a man walked in. Tensing up you grab Daneel's wrist, as you notice he had something in his hand.

"It's okay, it's only my husband. This is Jensen." Daneel wrapped your hand with hers.

"How are you?" Jensen asked, standing behind Daneel, bending down to give her a kiss on the cheek.

You shrugged, wincing when it pulled at the cuts on your back and chest.

"Her parents want to come in." Jensen whispered to Daneel. You didn't hear already feeling sleepy. Closing your eyes, sleep enveloped you.

Jensen POV

"No don't send her parents in, she freaked out when I told her." Daneel replied, glancing at the now sleeping girl.

"Do you think they did this to her?"

"With her reaction, I'd say yes. Who would do this to their own flesh and blood?" Dee sighed, brushing some hair away from the girls face. A few tears slid down both of our cheeks as we sat in silence.

"What if we adopt her? Then she could have a loving family, one that wouldn't hurt her. That would give her unconditional love." She sniffled, looking up at me.

"Yeah, I think she'd like that." I smiled.

The next few days were long, or they seemed that way at least. We spent the entire time learning everything there was to know about this girl.

Her name was Y/N, she loves the colour Y/F/C, she's always wanted siblings, and a dog. She loved the idea of us adopting her. Her parents signed over custody immediately, with no hesitation.

We brought the kids to meet her, JJ insisted on calling Y/N het big sister already and Zeppelin and Arrow quickly warmed up to her. Jared came round with Gen and met her, they left the kids with Jared's parents so Y/N didn't get overwhelmed.

When the time came to take Y/N home Dee's parent's took the kids so she could settle in. She had a room close to ours, In case she had a nightmare. So far if one of us was in the room with her she would sleep peacefully.

We ordered pizza and watched tv for a while until Y/N fell asleep in my lap, my fingers running gently through her hair.

6 Months Later

Your POV

You've been with the Ackles for six months now, and they've been the best six months of your life. They even threw you a birthday party, you've never had a birthday party before. Everyone accepted you so quickly, it was like you had always been a part of their family.

Sure there had been setbacks, like when Jensen's brother, Josh, met you the first time. He had came at you a bit too quickly and frightened you. You hid behind Jensen shaking for a while until Jensen calmed you. Now it was like that had never happened, Josh was always telling you funny stories about Jensen.

Or when you went up to Vancouver for the first time, to watch Jensen film. The yelling and noises sent you back almost all the way back to square one. From then on Jensen always made sure that if you were with him that during those scenes you were in either his or Jared's trailer.

For all the set backs, there has been massive steps forward. Like calling Jensen dad for the first time. There were lots of tears spilled and lots of hugs given, the same with calling Daneel mom for the first time.

The first time you went to a party or brought a boy home, those were especially big occasions.

You finally had a normal and happy life. With a family that didn't want to hurt you. One that loved you for who you were, they treated you like a person rather than a punching bag.

More importantly they treated you like you were their daughter. That was something you had never had, but now you had it you wouldn't change it for anything. They had rescued you, and for that you were forever thankful.

TAGS: @sofreddie @hybrid-in-progress

[mallowstep]

Questions about the bands/loner culture because I'm loving this AU already!

Is it normal for them to visit family that have, say, decided to become housekeepers or denizens in the city/elsewhere during the circuit? What is the interpersonal/social structure of an individual band like? What sort of names do bands call themselves, & is it a common/widespread knowledge, or more of a you-know-them-if-youve-met-them kind of thing? Also, when queens of different groups have kitted, is there ever any quarreling between them since toms tend to be threatening/violent toward kits that are not their own? Are there any bands who are sworn enemies or otherwise hostile toward each other, & how are these conflicts sorted out? Are new bands only started by mates, or could one be started by close friends, or littermates, for example? Do circuits ever change after they've been settled? Sorry if any of my wording is unclear, and for all the questions at once, I'm just so curious!

no no thank u so much for asking, do not apologize <3

is it normal to visit (non-wandering) kin?

as long as they live on the circuit! and most kin who leave a band are going to settle within visiting range of the circuit.

kin is really important to wanderers. let's say, hypothetically, lion stays in thunderclan, and holly and jay return to leaf and crow. (i'm not saying that's what's going to happen, to be clear.)

lion is going to bring his kits to meet with his kin every year when they're near clan territory, because they're going to want to meet them.

some cats are going to settle outside of visiting radius and not have any interest in making the yearly/biannual/what-have-you trip to meet with kin, and some leave the band because they don't want to be with their kin. sometimes circuits change, and the kin ties aren't strong enough, etc.

but in general, wanderers make a big effort to stay in touch.

what is the social structure of a band?

depends on the size of the band, the length of the circuit, and the band's history.

for small, kin-based bands (like leafcrow, rosemary&co), bands are, well, familial in structure. younger cats are expected to listen to older cats, but the general structure is very egalitarian.

(in general, bands are egalitarian, but i digress.)

the larger a band gets, the more formal things get, i suppose?

like, okay, if you have 5 cats, you don't really need to worry about distributing prey. if you have 20 cats, well, maybe you need to manage that.

one reason a cat might not get along with a band is because of the communal aspect of it. even though wanderers are generally accepting, that doesn't mean they're perfect. not everyone is cut out for that kind of mutual living structure, and sometimes it can be a toxic environment.

(for example, if one cat is bullying another, the band's response might lean towards "both sides reconciling," which isn't, like, a great response. and you're in a limited environment with very few cats. it happens, and unfortunately, the usual result is the harassed party leaving the band.)

what do bands call themselves and each other?

while some bands have names (like the sisters), most consider themselves a family. so if they absolutely need to identify themselves with some kind of title, it's going to be affiliated with the leader. leaf's family, rosemary's family, etc.

larger bands are more likely to have a title, naturally. these tend to be short, and associated with the founding. but i'd actually imagine there might be multiple groups that call themselves the sisters.

and this isn't common knowledge. you know who the bands you cross are, and you might hear about the bands they cross, but you don't know further than that.

so like. leaf and crow run into a band they cross on the way to the clan territory. let's say...heather.

heather might tell leaf, "oh, i heard sheep, you know, red's sheep, was staying in the old house by the river, the one with the dogs."

leaf can then pass that knowledge on to red when she sees her in the...summer? i'm not sure when they meet. but heather might not know red personally, just has met sheep, and sheep commented on red, and heather passes the news on so that leaf can pass it on.

did that make sense?

i hope that made sense.

(unrelated, but yes, you usually are going to introduce yourself as such. "leaf's holly, jay, and lion" etc.)

typically, though, bands refer to each other by where and when they cross. yes, that does make it very hard to know who they're talking about when you interact with different circuits. wanderers don't really care.

they don't see themselves as having overarching structure. there is no central meeting: yes, multiple bands do winter in the city, but plenty don't. there are like, multiple warm places.

what happens when multiple queens (in different bands) kit in the same place?

it depends. usually, they try to make their camp far away from each other. it doesn't even have to be far on human terms: a mile is plenty. maybe even less, depending on the type of territory.

and yes, this is one of the main causes of fighting between bands. they try to avoid the situation, but queens are very territorial. toms usually can't even get close enough to feel violent.

(leaf, being raised a clan cat, feels more comfortable around outside toms. but glass tries to stay out of the barn when the kits are young.)

the first step at resolution is for the leaders to negotiate. if a peaceful resolution can't be raised, then there will be a lot of posturing. cats are cowards, they don't want to actually fight.

an actual fight is the worst case scenario, and that leads into the next question.

are there feuds between bands, and how do those work?

there are feuds and grudges, but...they're usually pretty weak. see, if you cross with a band you don't get along with, it's fairly easy to avoid them.

more common is grudges built up over the winter, for bands who stay in the city, and feuds with colonies that take issue with the bands crossing their territory.

that said, if two bands come to a fight, they're going to have bad blood for a long time. wanderers tell stories, after all.

what's basically going to happen is that they're going to snap at each other about who should have to change their circuit every time they cross, and grumble about it before and after.

other bands are going to stay out of it. hard.

because they're a peaceful people. (cat?)

the feud is Bad, you see. and wanderers are not great at solving problems. they just want everyone to get along and smooth over the problem without actually resolving it. the problem is, when bands actually feud, they're not feuding for petty reasons.

now. now. the other thing that does happen is.

kits in the city/other gathering places. (i focus on the city + winter because that's where leaf and crow are, but there are other places.)

okay, so there's this passage in the beginning of the golden compass about the political structure of the kids and their colleges, and i cannot possibly express what an impact that has had on me.

but. kits feud like hell. they're in a relatively tight space for two or three moons, they have petty fights and wars and alliances and all sorts of drama.

these are usually related to their bands (e.g., rosemary and leaf are close bands), but not always. littermates stick together.

they even can get into "banding together in the face of a common enemy" if like, full-time city cat kits decide to cause trouble.

these don't usually last year to year, but they can.

fadslj winter in the city is the closest thing wanderers have to any kind of reunion moment, and it's like. it's quite territorial, honestly. bands tend to stick in their Area. by their nature, wanderers aren't interested in big groups and setting down roots. so they tend to keep to themselves more than usual.

after all, seeing family friends you see every year is different from going on a long vacation for two months or so with them.

how are new bands started?

while most new bands are started by mates, it's not the only way for them to get started.

i suppose, actually. bands aren't started by mates. a splinter group is usually pushed to break off by a pair of mates.

the "standard" formula is as such:

cat 1 from band A becomes mates with cat 2 from band B. cat 2 joins band A. cat 1 is expecting, and gets ready to nest, but tells the rest of the band to keep moving. other cats, typically close friends or littermates, stay.

the other standard formula is for littermates to form a band during their year voyage. i'd say it's maybe 60 way one, 30 way two, and 10 other.

(that said, it's usually during their year voyage that cats start to think about breaking off.)

there's no wrong reason to form a splinter band, it's just that, unless kits are involved, most splinter bands are going to function more as like. an auxiliary group that weaves in and out of the other circuit.

wanderers are creatures of habit.

do circuits ever change?

they change a lot in small ways. wanderers tend to make the same detours every trip, which is why older bands tend to have longer circuits. and older bands tend to be larger. hence larger = longer.

they can also change suddenly if something happens. like, say, a territory dispute during a nesting time (when a band settles down for a queen to kit), or a colony getting testy (like in tallstar's revenge, and squirrelflight's hope).

wanderers tend not to make major changes to their circuit (for no strong reason) after they're established, but it does happen.

the other thing is that a there-and-back circuit can flip into a loop circuit, or vice versa. basically, a there-and-back circuit starts to take a path on the "other side" of their territory, which widens over time, until they're in a loop.

in the other direction, the loop slowly narrows until it's a flat line.

all sorts of things can happen here, from forming cul-de-saqs to making detours to see kin. the one thing that doesn't happen often is "taking a shortcut." wanderers usually add to their circuit. they don't have anywhere to be, after all.

if i missed something, let me know! thank you for the questions, this was a lot of fun to answer.

[punkscowardschampions]

Bea & Fraze

Bea: You don't have any lectures Friday this term, right? Fraze: Right Bea: I thought so Bea: so you could be here Friday @ 8PM Bea: realistically Fraze: Yeah Bea: Okay good Fraze: Is it? Bea: Well Bea: Unavoidable social events aren't anything to shout about but they are what they say on the tin Bea: need someone to go with, one of those things Fraze: You ain't really selling it here, babe Fraze: Get that lad who wants to fuck you to do it Bea: Come on Bea: I'll owe you one Fraze: You should've led with that Bea: I'm not gonna lie to get you here Bea: just a birthday meal, we've endured worse Bea: but everyone is coupled up and I can't show up alone Fraze: I'm not gonna lie that I'm thrilled for the invite Bea: I don't need you to lie Bea: just need you to do it so what will that take Fraze: I'll do it 'cause you asked me Fraze: You'll owe me when I need it Bea: Alright Bea: deal Bea: air on the smarter side of smart casual for the dresscode Fraze: Alright Bea: Lemme know when you've booked your flight Bea: can stay after if you haven't got other plans Fraze: I'll do it now Fraze: Before I get other plans Bea: Thanks Fraze: Don't thank me yet if any of their posh cunt boyfriends wind me up you won't be Bea: It's a boy's birthday Bea: and he's from somewhere up North so I'm not sure how posh he is Bea: they're alright Bea: you'll be fine for a night Fraze: I don't need his entire autobiography, like Fraze: He'll be the one blowing out the candles and I'll be gone not too long after Bea: Hardly Bea: don't need you wishing the wrong person happy birthday Fraze: I don't need to wish anyone anything, he's your friend not mine Bea: 🙄 Bea: You don't get to call an IOU if you're gonna come and be a twat Fraze: You don't get to tell me how to socialise Fraze: I'll buy him a couple of drinks, job easily done Bea: So you're just being awkward with me Bea: I wouldn't have asked if it weren't necessary yeah Fraze: If I was being awkward I'd have said I was busy Bea: Whatever then Fraze: It ain't whatever, you're here 'cause you want something, end of Fraze: You ain't bringing the pleasantries so why the fuck am or would I? Bea: I said you could stay Bea: if you're coming we could at least try to have a nice time Fraze: You said I could stay 'cause otherwise you owe me bigger Fraze: It ain't just flights both ways and whatever the fuck this dinner party is, it's all that one after the fucking other Bea: No I did not Bea: don't make me out like I'm so fucking calculated Bea: and yeah, that's exactly why I said make a weekend of it so it isn't here and immediately back Bea: but if you can't do it then don't agree to, it's fine Fraze: I'm not making you out to be anything, like I said, you led with what you led with, babe Fraze: If you wanted me to stay, if it was about me at fucking all, this conversation would've been entirely different Fraze: You know what you want and you know how to get it Bea: You're hearing what you wanna hear, more like Bea: just 'cos I was honest and didn't try to sell this as the party of the year, you've decided to be in a mood about it Fraze: I'm reading what's written Fraze: You have no idea what mood I'm in 'cause you ain't asked me Fraze: But yeah, sorry it ain't a pleasure doing business with you Bea: Oh my God Bea: forget it, it's fine Fraze: I've booked my flight, like I said I would, so that ain't really an option unless you wanna refund me Fraze: [imagine flight details sent here cos what do I know about it] Bea: Really Bea: alright, we'll just have to make best of a bad situation then Fraze: Lucky for us we've had loads of practice at exactly that, yeah? Bea: Lucky is exactly how I'd put it Fraze: Saved you a job then Bea: Gee, thanks Bea: whilst you're at it, can you grab the dress I wore for NYE Bea: got nothing that's cutting it here Fraze: You're so welcome, princess Fraze: Sure, not like I have to pack loads of shit for myself, quickest of visits, like Bea: You're so welcome Fraze: I know Bea: you want a hotel room or what? Fraze: You got any single friends or what? Bea: Yeah so you've not been reading what I said Bea: as suspected Fraze: 'Cause I assumed they weren't all gathered in one room Fraze: I didn't realise you were living some kind of murder mystery Bea: You know my course is selective Fraze: So I got the wrong book and Cambs is more like Hogwarts Fraze: No mixing, yeah? Bea: What'd be the point? Fraze: Could be friends who don't celebrate with wanky dinners, but we'll never know now Bea: That's irrelevant Bea: wouldn't want to go either way Fraze: It's irrelevant 'cause it ain't gonna happen, like I said, the wanky dinner is the only option Bea: It's irrelevant because getting pissed in a restaurant is no different to getting pissed in a pub Bea: you're the snob in this situation, they've seen the inside of the SU and they live in filthy student accommodation, if it makes you feel better Fraze: That's bullshit that you don't want my da to hear you spouting, first of all and second of all, fuck off Bea: It's true, whether your dad reckons it or not Fraze: It ain't even close to true Fraze: The truth is, you weren't excited about this and they're your friends so don't be a fucking hypocrite and expect me to be Bea: Don't judge them when you don't even know if they're a girl or a boy Fraze: I could give a fuck about 'em Bea: Then shut up talking about them either way Fraze: I've barely said a word about 'em Bea: No, that's me Bea: you're the one going on speculating about my friends Fraze: Am I fuck Bea: Sure Bea: it ain't a big secret Bea: I'll give you their socials beforehand, like Fraze: You sure? You're well touchy on their behalf Bea: Yeah right Bea: because you're not just judging them, you're judging me and you're being a cunt Fraze: I am a cunt that ain't news, I don't know 'em to judge 'em I've never met 'em before this Fraze: Asking if you've got friends outside your course ain't a judgement it Fraze: its a question Bea: They aren't mutually exclusive Bea: it's more than capable of being loaded with both Fraze: You're more than capable of realising what I mean and what I don't Bea: Yeah, I am Fraze: So what's your problem? Fraze: The actual one Bea: I've said Fraze: Nah Bea: Yeah Bea: you're the only one with shit to say Fraze: What I'm saying is what I've already said, you've seen me judgemental and your friends are getting off light Fraze: Try again Bea: I don't care Bea: I've actually got shit to do Bea: see you when you're here Fraze: If you didn't care you wouldn't have to tell me you don't Fraze: But whatever, I've got my own shit to do Bea: I would when you won't stop talking Fraze: Bullshit Bea: How is it Bea: seriously, you do not know how to take a hint Fraze: You know how to shut me up Bea: Clearly not Fraze: Nice try Bea: Fuck off Fraze: Come on, that ain't ever worked, go again Bea: Seriously Bea: you're being stupid now Fraze: You're treating me like I'm stupid Bea: No, I'm treating you how you're happy to be treated Fraze: You're losing your touch with me if that's what you reckon, babe Bea: If you like Fraze: You clearly do Bea: You don't know any more than me Fraze: If you like Bea: Can't have it both ways Fraze: Maybe not in Cambs Fraze: I can have it any way I want, cunt's prerogative Bea: Almost convincing Bea: Not Fraze: Not you I have to convince Bea: Lucky again Fraze: One word for it Bea: Feel free to throw any synonyms you like around Fraze: We've both got better things to do Fraze: It ain't going towards my word count on any assignment Bea: Glad you're finally seeing sense Fraze: 'Course you are Fraze: You got what you wanted, no need to keep the conversation going on your end, like Bea: You really want me to rise to it Bea: Interesting Fraze: For you maybe, I'd call it boring Bea: Yeah, insult me when you've shown too much Bea: that'll work Fraze: If I was insulting you, I'd do better Bea: No proof of that Fraze: There's years of it Bea: All those years have been reduced to a piece of paper and some letters Bea: don't you know none of that matters now Fraze: If I didn't before I do now Fraze: Cheers for that Bea: Should've covered that in freshers week Bea: so you're welcome again Fraze: Yeah Bea: We all good here then? Fraze: Is that a rhetorical question? Bea: Nope Fraze: Shame Bea: Easier for you, I understand Fraze: Nah, easier for you, as per Bea: I'm not the one avoiding the question Fraze: You're avoiding the answer Bea: Ooh Bea: deep Bea: didn't know you'd switched to Philosophy Fraze: You don't know fuck all about any of this shit Fraze: We've already established that Bea: Please do mansplain it to me Bea: not enough of that in my life Fraze: As much as you'd love for me to be that cunt Bea: We've already established you are Bea: regardless how I feel about it Fraze: Nah, we haven't that's the point Fraze: I'm a cunt, that one ain't it Bea: You keep saying lots of things are the point Bea: becomes less and less persuasive every time but I get it Fraze: What, you can only keep up with the one? Fraze: I'm keep it well simple for you then, fuck you Bea: Cool Bea: if you'd have just answered 20 messages ago Fraze: Next time feel free to stop answering whenever the fuck you like Bea: Awh Fraze: Don't Bea: Why not Fraze: You know why not Bea: You're the only one that gets to be a cunt Bea: I don't think so Fraze: Yeah, 'cause that's the first time you've been a cunt Bea: Finally he says how he really feels Fraze: It ain't how I feel it's how it is Bea: Same difference Bea: Least you ain't being a pussy no more Fraze: You wish, babe Fraze: Not everything's about you, it shouldn't be news Bea: You wish, babe Fraze: Yeah, I do Fraze: I'd love for you to be my only problem right now Bea: If it's a problem you're doing it wrong Fraze: Again, you wish Fraze: That weren't even close to what I was talking about Bea: Yeah, essays, I remember Bea: we all have them Bea: this year doesn't count Fraze: Jesus, forget it Bea: What Bea: Stop talking in riddles and be a person if you want a fucking conversation Fraze: I don't want a fucking conversation with you, I said forget it Bea: Fine Fraze: Good Bea: There's your rhetorical Fraze: If you say so Bea: 👍 Fraze: Yeah right Bea: Fuck off Fraze: Ladies first Bea: You aren't funny Fraze: I ain't in a joking mood Bea: What's wrong Bea: seriously Fraze: For fuck's sake Bea: Just tell me Fraze: Shut up Bea: No Fraze: Don't make me repeat myself Bea: Then tell me Fraze: No Bea: then fuck you Fraze: Then fuck me Fraze: Whatever Bea: It isn't Fraze: And what? Bea: And you could do something about it Fraze: I'm not fucking stupid, don't talk to me like I am Bea: You're not talking to me at all Bea: what else can I go on Fraze: It's not a mystery for you to solve Fraze: Go do something else Bea: Can't make me Fraze: Don't be stupid Bea: Why not Fraze: 'Cause you ain't Bea: When it's convenient Fraze: Bullshit, it's inconvenient as hell right now and I'm still saying it Bea: How is it inconvenient Bea: not like I've worked it out Fraze: You won't fucking drop it either way Fraze: And when I show up to this birthday dinner unable to hold my cutlery 'cause you keep winding me up it'll be exactly that Bea: If you just told me, it would be dropped Bea: and you aren't blaming me if you hurt yourself Fraze: I've already told you, I don't wanna fucking talk about it Bea: Fraze Fraze: Don't Bea: You first Fraze: Seriously don't Bea: Don't come Bea: I'll send you the money Bea: whatever, I don't care Fraze: Alright Bea: Good luck with Bea: whatever it is Fraze: It ain't about luck Fraze: Save your breath Bea: So I can't say anything now? Bea: Fine Fraze: I don't need your help or whatever the fuck that was Bea: I didn't offer help Fraze: Like I said, whatever the hell you are offering, don't Bea: I said I don't need you now Fraze: Fuck off then Bea: You're more than capable of ending the conversation yourself Bea: I'm not doing it for you Fraze: Do it for yourself Bea: Like you care Fraze: 'Course I do Bea: Yeah right Fraze: Yeah right Fraze: I love you Bea: I wanted you to come Fraze: I'll be there Bea: It's a stupid reason to come Fraze: That's not the reason I'm showing up Fraze: It's an excuse for why I can Bea: I miss you so much I can't think properly Bea: it's fucking me up Fraze: I know, me too Bea: I don't know what we should do Fraze: I know what you should do, it's what you're already doing Fraze: You belong there, babe Bea: That's not the answer to the question I asked though Bea: just an answer Fraze: Yeah well Bea: I know Fraze: Nothing's how I thought it'd be or how I want it but I'm trying to work it out Bea: I'm proud of you Fraze: Don't be Fraze: Not for this Bea: Alright, I'll be proud when you work it out Bea: better? Fraze: Yeah Bea: It's just another stepping stone, yeah Bea: it's not permanent Fraze: I fucking hope not Bea: Me too Fraze: I don't know how to explain how wrong all of this is Bea: I'm the one person you really don't have to explain it too though so Bea: that's something Fraze: If it was just you, us Fraze: But everything is so fucked Bea: Like what else Bea: please talk to me Fraze: I've made too many mistakes here, with this Fraze: I don't know if I should've done any of it Bea: Your course or uni as a whole? Fraze: Maybe it'd be different somewhere else, maybe it wouldn't Bea: You can transfer credits, but yeah Bea: a gamble on a maybe Bea: there's always options, different ways to get to what you want, you ain't trapped Bea: alright, remember, like Fraze: I ain't a quitter either Bea: Then don't Bea: but you're no idiot Bea: so you wouldn't stay if it made no sense Fraze: I've stayed this long, I feel like an idiot Bea: It's a big deal Bea: you wouldn't wanna drop out then regret that, you need to be sure what you wanna do Fraze: I know Bea: You're not an idiot Fraze: Don't be nice to me now Bea: Fuck you Bea: better? Fraze: I miss you Fraze: If you wanna feel sorry for me over something it can be that Bea: I mean Bea: yeah, that's a shitty state of affairs to be in Fraze: Exactly Bea: Of all the people in all the world to miss Fraze: I picked the best one Fraze: Not that much of an idiot, clearly Bea: Shut up Bea: you aren't allowed to be nice either Fraze: You can't make me and you seriously can't stop me Bea: Give you the former Bea: but I've definitely just proved I can stop you being nice easy as Fraze: That weren't you it was me Bea: You're really gonna hit me with that cliche now? Bea: Ouch 💔 Fraze: It's a cliche for a reason, Red Bea: 'Cos people rely on it when they don't wanna be honest, like Fraze: And 'cause it's a numbers thing and in this case it's always gonna be me being a cunt more than it is you Bea: Nah Bea: I don't like to be outdone, thank you Fraze: Give me this one thing, yeah? Bea: Hmm Bea: begrudgingly Bea: if we never speak of it again Fraze: I'll take it silently Bea: 😏 Fraze: Shut up Bea: I didn't say anything Bea: rude! Fraze: I know what you're thinking Bea: Interesting Bea: but actually Fraze: But actually don't start, you already know I miss you Bea: Fine Bea: boring but fine Fraze: It ain't boring to want to survive until I can see you in person Fraze: Or touch you in person Bea: I really wish your flight was sooner Fraze: If I could change it, I would Bea: Be worth the wait Bea: always is Fraze: You always are Bea: Don't be saying that to anyone else Bea: just me yeah Fraze: I'm not waiting for anyone else, just you Bea: Still Fraze: Come on Fraze: You know you're the only one worth anything to me Bea: I don't wanna talk about them Fraze: I'm talking about you, nobody else Bea: Yeah Fraze: Yeah Bea: You don't need a hotel room Fraze: I don't want one Bea: Good 'cos I'm not paying Fraze: Buy me a drink and I'll get over it Bea: I don't know Bea: not your birthday Bea: we'll see Fraze: It ain't NYE either but I'll still see you in that dress again Bea: Exactly Bea: Don't push your luck Fraze: It's my luck, you can't tell me what to do with it Bea: I have missed you Fraze: Good Bea: Do you know what you're gonna do this summer Fraze: Find a job Fraze: Why, what are you gonna do? Bea: I don't know Bea: Probably the same Bea: that lot are talking about traveling but I don't think I fancy it Fraze: 'Course not Fraze: I can picture the kind of bullshit they are planning to do Fraze: Don't even have to know 'em Bea: Least it's not ski season Bea: I'd rather get ahead in any which ways I can Fraze: There or here? Bea: Don't know that either Bea: depends if there's any point being near the uni or I'll have to do it myself Fraze: Fair point Bea: Not like I'm ready for an apprenticeship or anything but might be something more relevant than working in a shop again or whatever Fraze: Exactly Bea: Depends depends Fraze: You can make something happen Fraze: This place has summer shit going on and it ain't as fancy as yours Fraze: The professors are already trying to get anyone who will to give 'em a hand Bea: Yeah Bea: I guess Fraze: Come on Fraze: You're top of your class ain't you, all the teachers will be tripping over themselves to help you out Bea: Obviously Bea: it ain't that Bea: maybe I should go somewhere as well Bea: it's not all about the academics is it Fraze: You'll have time to do both Fraze: If you want Bea: You're right Bea: it's just prioritizing what I want most Fraze: Nothing new there then Fraze: That's all life is basically Bea: Pretty much Fraze: You'll figure it out, you always do Bea: 'Course Bea: not complaining, got enough time to sort all that Bea: right now I need to get ready Fraze: You and me both, babe Bea: What you up to? Fraze: Gym first then it'll get put to a vote so half the lads don't cry off before we've even started Bea: That's cute Bea: very diplomatic Fraze: You're not the only one with wanky friends, what can I say? Bea: 😏 Bea: should connect them up Fraze: Fucking hell cheers for that thought, like Fraze: Not good enough to distract me from asking where you're going though Bea: Tragically the gender gap means there's like 3 other girls on my course so naturally yours will be devastated but can't fix that one myself Bea: Gonna go London Bea: got a free tomorrow Fraze: But gay Jordan will be in his element Fraze: Speaking of, say hi to your besties from me then Bea: Swings and roundabouts Bea: Will do Fraze: Cheers Bea: 'Course Bea: any message, I'm your girl Fraze: 'Course Bea: Has Joe spoke to your 'rents recently or do I actually need to nag him Fraze: Don't be stupid Fraze: Like you he only starts a convo if he needs something Bea: Right Fraze: It ain't but it also ain't my problem Bea: Mine either Fraze: Why bring him up then? Fraze: You don't love to nag that much Bea: Because he'll be there Fraze: It makes no odds to me, I won't Bea: It'd be weird if I acted like he wasn't Bea: no need to think on it any more than that Fraze: It's weird that he is, but whatever Bea: What do you mean Fraze: What I said Bea: And that is? Fraze: Him hanging out with that lot is weird Bea: Just different from what you wanna do Fraze: If you like Bea: They've got stuff in common Bea: why not Fraze: I'd have shit in common with your Cambs mates if I tried hard enough, don't mean I'm gonna come back to hang out Bea: You aren't related to any of them Fraze: Don't Bea: Well, don't you be stupid Bea: it's obvious, whether you want to think about it or not Fraze: Shut up Bea: Whatever Fraze: Go get ready Bea: I am Bea: but message received Fraze: Whatever Fraze: I've gotta go Bea: Have fun Fraze: Yeah, you too Bea: Slainte Fraze: [time skip moment let's all take a sec to appreciate them both rocking a look] Bea: [naturally, as if you didn't miss each other enough lmao] Fraze: [this is why I LOVE you both so much] Bea: [see if I can find a pic but lord knows] Fraze: [likewise but we know the luck I have with boy clothes] Bea: [are they opposite each other or next to each other it's important] Fraze: [lets commit to opposite for the eye contact if no other reason lol] Bea: [definitely] Bea: See, they aren't THAT bad Fraze: I never said they were Bea: Your face is very expressive Fraze: If you look long enough, 'course it is Fraze: [a look because I must] Bea: [just smirking and catching his eye before looking away really fast] Fraze: [shaking his head but not in a shady way we know he loves it and her bye] Bea: See? Bea: Blatant Fraze: You already know what I'm thinking, I ain't gonna bother putting a front on, like Bea: I didn't say I mind Fraze: You don't have to, I know you don't Bea: What else do you know, smartypants Fraze: I know you look even better in that than you did at New Year's Bea: I'll take it Bea: you're not as wasted as you were then Bea: [looks at him like she's checking] Fraze: Not yet Bea: You reckon you can get on that level tonight Bea: Doubt it Fraze: 'Course I could Fraze: Easy Bea: Better get a round in then, hadn't I Bea: call it consolation Bea: [is getting every hoes order] Fraze: [helps because he's that bitch] Bea: [whatta couple] Fraze: [let's take a moment to appreciate how sociable he actually is though despite the moody cunt he also is casually he's my dad haha] Bea: [hence she woulda invited him, beyond the obvious of wanting to, 'cos he's not gonna embarrass her like bronson accidentally would lbr] Fraze: [oh bless him he's not the one you need in a time like this] Bea: [at the bar like 'would your dad pay you for the summer, like?'] Fraze: [he shrugs but we both know he's thought about it 'depends who else he's got on the payroll'] Bea: [nods and nudges him, 'worth a thought, worse ways to spend a summer'] Fraze: [nudges her back and gives her a LOOK which we know means he can think of better ways too] Bea: [blushes and says 'shut up' as if he's said anything but still returning the look whilst they wait obvs] Fraze: [eye contact 5ever cos its my fave thing but 😏 because when you're that pale there's no hiding that blush soz Bea] Bea: [when a nudge turns to a shove but he's tol and you're smol so not like he's going flying] Fraze: [he'd just lol because loves it] Bea: [making him carry most of it 'cos you're faux mad] Fraze: [not gonna faze him cos 1. he's that bitch and 2. his dad literally owns a pub we know he's got this 3. he'd probably take more than she needs him to in order to show off anyway cos also that bitch]] Bea: [when you love that bitch] Fraze: [when you're just looking at her like deny that was impressive] Bea: [raises her glass/eyebrow at him sassily] Fraze: [backatcha on both counts of course then he's talking to whoever just casually being the life and soul like fine I'll play to my impressed audience] Bea: [tbf you better socialize too babe, don't lose your friends, at least one should be a relatively hot lad for the jealousy moment] Fraze: [omg yes do it talk to him girl] Bea: [can't all be harmless nerds, like] Fraze: [at least he can retaliate by talking to the hottest girlfriend there cos its all couples and they can't all be gay either haha] Bea: [imagine lmao] Fraze: [some of them should be cos clearly she attracts the gays to her by being such a bad bitch] Bea: [gay men are always here for a bad bitch so true, just casually fuming rn, you two are so petty] Fraze: [smoke break even if the rest of them probably fucking vape now or whatever cos likewise he is mad lol] Bea: thanks for the invite Fraze: I reckoned you'd be too busy Bea: Firstly, how Bea: secondly, not the point Fraze: You and Ollie getting on like a church on fire is both the how and the point Bea: With his girlfriend right there, please Bea: Point is you clearly would rather be out there with Bea: I don't even know her name Fraze: Maybe if you chatted to any other cunt besides him you would Bea: Ridiculous Bea: I haven't talked to anyone more than anyone else Fraze: Yeah, you are Fraze: Spotlight's meant to be on the birthday boy, remember Bea: You wouldn't know who I'm talking to Bea: you ran away Fraze: I went for a smoke Fraze: You'll still be laughing at his jokes when I'm done Bea: I ain't laughing, trust Bea: everyone knows I smoke, so I look like a twat, thanks Fraze: So tear yourself away from that twat and come out now Bea: If you think I'm following you anywhere Bea: that's miles worse Fraze: Christ's sake Fraze: I'll come and carry you out if you don't, how's that for worse Bea: That about sums it up Fraze: 'Cause you'd rather stay with him Bea: Yes, obviously Bea: it has nothing to do with how you've behaved at all Bea: just wanna fuck him so much, present company be damned Fraze: Yeah, obviously Fraze: If I was behaving badly I wouldn't be here Bea: I'm meant to thank you for that, am I Fraze: I'd take you not assuming I faked needing a smoke so I could fuck Kate up against the bins Bea: Shut the fuck up Fraze: Make me Fraze: You'll have to get his tongue out your ear first though so I won't hold my breath Bea: [Obvs gonna storm out there for better or worse, 'scuse me everyone Fraze: [I have a mental image like that song in rent when everyone's just looking like OMG then following the sing fight I am lol] Bea: [lmao if only you could be so shameless people] Fraze: [posh or middle class peeps could never tbh you gotta be full fish wife hanging out the window like oiii] Bea: [tbf you'd be getting a show so like stay seated please] Fraze: [for real though Kate needs to fuck off sharpish also please] Bea: [also triggered by her being called Kate tbh, too close to home, don't need them mems] Fraze: [I'm so rude I know] Bea: [Lbr she'd probably ask her to leave, not like she's on her course, not gotta be besties] Fraze: [she might not even go to that entire uni so who cares] Bea: [tbh, soz honey, but then purposely staying a stupid distance away from him as she lights up her own cigarette] Fraze: [we all know he's just waiting for her to break first so he doesn't have to be the one to say/do anything oh so casually smoking but staring at her like] Bea: [ah the casual game of wills] Fraze: [the literal years of this though don't even start thinking about it] Bea: [just being cocky af and looking at him like 'nothing to say?' 'cos that means she's shut him up so a win either way on this one I'm afraid] Fraze: ['I've got loads to say, it's just that none of it's to you, that's your problem with me, babe' because he knows exactly what that look means of course] Bea: [Scoffs 'Bullshit' we all know Kate was not that interesting Fraze: ['You wish' but she's right and that's the tea] Bea: ['That's why you were paying so much attention to mine and Ollie's conversation then, sure'] Fraze: ['That's why you were flaunting it'] Bea: ['I'm not pretending to be interested' bit rude to your friend but ok] Fraze: ['That makes two of us' when you've finished your 🚬 but you don't leave] Bea: ['I don't believe you' when you say it with as much confidence as you can but this is the time of doubt so fun] Fraze: ['So what if you don't' ouch don't be so rude we all know you care] Bea: ['So- we're done here' when you clearly are not done with your 🚬 but you gotta throw that shit anyway 'cos you can't] Fraze: [when she doesn't have a sleeve so you gotta grab her wrist to stop her going and we all know what a dangerous game that is] Bea: [pushing him way harder than any bants earlier, onto whatever bench situation is out here so she can kiss him harder, eventually breaking away 'Go fuck her now'] Fraze: ['We're not done. You and me we ain't ever done' and if she needed the proof then of course he's kissing her as hard as she kissed him] Bea: [I'll be mean and stop them before it becomes x-rated by someone coming out then awkwardly being like whoops, but we're moving onto this club so come on] Fraze: [soz to that poor random individual] Bea: [Won't be Kate she's already traumatized] Fraze: [Hopefully it's none of her friends she don't need that] Bea: [although if it was that'd be a thingTM 'cos boys, however nice, would be weird about it like ooh 'cos she's hot and now a dark horse] Fraze: [omg good point actually I change my mind] Fraze: [also the 💋 everywhere is making me die bye] Bea: [gotta clean his face for him before they go] Fraze: [that shouldn't be as hot as it obviously would be oh you guys] Bea: [when you'd be tempted to leave some 'cos territorial Fraze: [she's so gotta cos he wouldn't care we all know it] Bea: [with a casual lovebite probably] Fraze: [it's a mood] Bea: [this club ain't, typical student fare though] Fraze: [oh god it'd be so shit] Bea: [drinks would be cheap-ish at least] Fraze: [yeah that's always the one good thing even if they taste like shit as a result these two ain't me so they ain't gonna be fussed] Bea: [and if you gotta be here and interrupted, like] Fraze: [exactly you know he'd go straight to get many drinks that they both need] Bea: [shots shots shots] Fraze: [needs must] Bea: [get a booth you posh boys] Fraze: [gotta have at least one use thank you] Bea: [cosy cosy everyone] Fraze: [how awkward I could not] Bea: [like hey kate hey ollie] Fraze: [shamelessly talking to the others and not him or her god bless you boy] Bea: [she'd notice 'cos both as extra as each other and shamelessly appreciate it like] Fraze: [and of course going up the bar again even though it ain't his turn just so he can leave the booth for a hot sec] Bea: [when you get up like you're gonna help but then you make your way to the dancefloor] Fraze: [we all know he's shamelessly looking at her along with many other peeps] Bea: [enjoy this glimpse of messiness lads] Fraze: [when you're torn cos on the one hand you wanna go get her and be like don't but on the other hand you wanna let her do her thing because it's a mood oh boy what are you gonna do] Bea: [at least nothing too outrageous is happening, just being perved on lowkey] Fraze: [she's used to that and worse but don't think about it] Bea: [she's only checking he's watching lbr fuck the lot of yas] Fraze: [oh girl you know he couldn't look away if he wanted to and he doesn't want to anyway so] Bea: [hop off to the bathroom honey] Fraze: [when you wanna follow her but what she said earlier is true] Bea: [don't worry, I has a reason lol] Bea: you wanna come get a line Fraze: Thought you'd never ask Bea: you didn't know I had any Fraze: It's term time, of course you do Bea: Not for long, babe Fraze: [shows up to your function]

[bizarrewritings-blog]

Lie to me - C.E.

Youngblood Series

Chris Evans x Reader

'It's three a.m. and the moonlight's testing me. If i can make it 'til dawn then it won't be hard to see, that I ain't happy.'

Word count: 1,870

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Little bit of Swearing

A/N: My first fic that is neither Sebastian nor Bucky whooo!

A Breakup was never an easy thing to go through. It was hard, full of pain and sorrow. At least that's how it should be, most of the time. That's how it has always been for Chris at least. He had been through some break ups before, being both the person who left and the person who's been left. He knew that it was hard for both sides, leaving a time of love and happiness behind and just moving on has always been a struggle. That were his experiences.

His last relationship lasted a whole of three years, and they've been the happiest in his life so far. He wanted to spend every second of his day with you, rearranging your flights so you could stay at his side a little longer whenever you visited him when he was away for filming. He believed you could've been the one for him, the one he had searched for all these years.

But that quickly changed when you decided that he wasn't enough. You two had a massive fight after you said you wouldn't be able to visit him in Europe, where he would be filming the next couple month. You had argued that you were busy as well. When he didn't calm down, you decided to leave and stay at a friend's house. After that, you only came back to get your things. You two were officially over.

It had been almost a month since you walked out of Chris' life, but he was still pretty much a mess. He still didn't know how he should survive the filming with the feelings he still had for you dragging him down.

If all this wasn't enough, a rumor that you had already found a new guy spread on the internet. There were pictures as well, but it was impossible to identify the man. But it was enough to make Chris feel sick. He couldn't control as his mind kept imagining you in his arms. Him touching you where he used to touch you, kissing you where he used to. His thoughts went farther, imagining you in the bedroom with him. Doing the things only he hoped to do to you. The mental imagines of you two made Chris want to throw up. He didn't deserve to feel like shit while you were already sleeping with another man. It wasn't fair.

The vibration of his phone snapped him out of his thoughts. He blindly reached for it from his spot on the couch, accepting the call without looking at the screen. "Yeah?" He rasped. He hasn't talked to anyone in a while. Apart from Dodger, obviously. "Evans! How are you holding up?" Chris blinked a couple times, confused who the hell was calling him. "Downey?" "Who else would it be?" Robert's voice was dripping with sarcasm, making Chris roll his eyes. "What do you want?" "I already said. Wanted to ask how you've been. With the break up and everything. We haven't seen you in a while." Chris sighed, his eyes closing as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't need people to be concerned for him. He obviously wasn't well, but that was his problem.

"Look, we care for you." Robert continued as Chris didn't answer. "There's a party at this fancy restaurant a lot of people are attending. I just want you to finally get out of the house." "I'm getting out of the house often enough." Chris muttered. "For any other reason than taking Dodger out?" Chris stayed silent, signaling Robert he was right. "You're coming. This weekend. I'll drag you there myself if I have to." Robert hung up before Chris could protest. He groaned in annoyance, letting the phone drop on the couch. He had no desire to go out. But having Robert come to him to drag him there would be even worse.

~

As the evening arrived, he didn't know why but he was nervous. There would be tons of people telling him how sorry they were that it didn't work out with you. He shook his head, trying to get the thoughts of you from his mind. He wouldn't let you ruin his evening, he would actually try to have fun for once. He had showered, trimmed his beard and put on one of his favorite suits, a dark blue set with a complimenting bow tie. Robert had texted him the adress and time earlier, so he took a deep breath before making his way to the event.

~

Chris almost didn't regret his decision as the evening went well, he actually managed to laugh and have fun. Only a few people tried to talk to him about the break up, but most of the time he could avoid the topic. Until you suddenly stepped in as well, another man at your side. He stopped the conversation he was currently holding with Sebastian and Anthony, his gaze shamelessly running over your body as his jaw slacked. You wore the dress he always loved on you, it hugged you curves in all the right places and it made him want to scream. Then your eyes met his, and the world stopped for a second. There were just him and you.

God, how he had missed you.

He send you small, forced smile as his heart thudded so loudly he was sure his friends around him could hear it as well.

You didn't return his smile.

Your gaze left his, continuing your way with the guy Chris couldn't recognize. His face dropped, a sigh escaping his lips. "She's not worth it." Sebastian tried to lift him up. Chris gave him a sad smile. "How long since you broke up? A month? And she already has a new guy?" Anthony added, a disgusted look on his face. "Talking her down isn't what he needs right now." Sebastian argued, rolling his eyes. "What else am I supposed to say? That it's completely fine that she comes here looking like this?" Anthony protested back. Chris clenched his jaw at the two of them. "I'm gonna get some air." He simply said, leaving his friends behind as he made his way to the terrace. For a split second, he let his eyes fall to you again. You were laughing, your eyes glowing from the light and it made his stomach clench.

As he got outside, he immediately took a deep breath, inhaling the cool air. It was already night, the dimly lit area instantly calming his nerves. Surprisingly, noone was there apart from him. He sunk down on one of the chairs, leaning back and closing his eyes. His mood was at the bottom again, all because of you.

"Is this seat taken?" An all to familiar voice made his eyes snap open. There you were, a small smile on your face as you pointed to the chair on the other side of the small, round table. He tried to gather his thoughts, you being close to him, talking to him again, made his head spin in excitement. "I-I, of course!" He stuttered. You sat down, inhaling the cool air just like he did a couple minutes ago.

"You look beautiful." The words left his mouth faster than he he could think, a dark blush immediately covering his face. You chuckled lightly and he felt his heart swell in his chest. He had missed this sound. "I wanted to apologize." You began, eyes on your lap. He furrowed his brows in confusion. "What do y-" "How I treated you. How I left you for the most stupid reason." You chewed nervously on your bottom lip, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't mean it to end like it did." Chris nodded as he let his eyes fall to his lap as well. He mentally thanked the owner of the restaurant for the lack of lights outside. Through that you could at least barely see the sadness on his face.

"Who's the guy?" You tensed at his question, your lip back between your teeth. "Someone. Doesn't matter." Chris' gaze fell back on her, hope in his eyes. "Do you regret it?" Your eyes met his again, your brows furrowed. "What do you mean?" "Breaking up with me." You jaw clenched as you looked away again, feeling vulnerable under his stare. "Chris, I-" "Do you still love me?" There was sadness and hope in his voice, making you gulp. "Chris, please. I'm-" "Just lie to me if you have to, i don't care." His pleading eyes never left you as you nervously pulled on the fabric of your dress. Your eyes closed as you breathed in before looking at him, a serious expression on youe face.

"I still love you."

Without another word, you stood up to go inside, leaving him by himself. He sighed heavily, running his hand over his face. He would never be able to get over you.

~

It was the middle of the night when the dorbell rang. You were already asleep, but the constant ringing noise woke you up. "What the fuck?" You mumbled to yourself, rubbing your eyes as you checked the time. It was almost 3am. Who in hell would come around at that time?

Since your friend wasn't there to get the door, you dragged yourself out of bed. The ringing didn't stop for a second and it started to get on your nerves. "It's okay, Jesus Christ, I'm coming!" You opened the door, ready to shout at whoever was there for ringing the dorbell like a maniac. But when your eyes met all to familiar, warm blue ones, you couldn't say anything. You haven't seen Chris since your encounter at the restaurant about 2 days ago.

Chris' expression was unsure, but soft at the same time. "Did you mean it?" He simply asked, his gaze never leaving yours. "I-What?" "That you still love me. Did you say it because it's the truth or because i asked you to?" He stepped closer, but you didn't dare to move. He towered over you, his intense gaze boring into you. "The truth." He continued. "... Please." You sighed, your head falling foward. "I meant it."

It only took a second before Chris lifted your face to his by your chin, his lips capturing yours in a soft kiss. Immediately, your arms flew to his neck while his carefully squeezed your waist. It was all too damn familiar. You both almost melted on the spot, the feeling of being so close to each other again relieving. His lips curled into a smile against yours, causing you to smile as well.

Chris pulled away to look at you, a grin on his face. He was finally happy again. "I'm sorry." You mumbled. He shook his head. "Don't be. We both made mistakes, it doesn't matter." You smiled slightly before nodding. "But that you got another guy was mean." He added, his expression turning serious. "Only to make you jealous." You shrugged. "We didn't even kiss or anything." He sighed in relief at your statement. His lips found yours again, deepening the kiss this time. He still smiled into the kiss, he couldn't help it. He was finally back at his happy place.

[praxilla]

Because! They! Don't! Care! It's truly that simple. I'm related to affluent multimillionaires who have treated my impoverished single mom like shit for being poor and single my whole damn life. Rich people have mental illnesses, to put it kindly, that make them incredibly cruel and selfish. I'm not saying they can't change or have moments of being smart/kind, but that in general they are crueler than you can even imagine. When my nonno was on his deathbed, my very wealthy Aunt wouldn't cancel her trip to Paris until he actually died. He was on his deathbed hallucinating she was there because she never actually was. Her own father. When my uncle died unexpectedly at 39, the rich side of the family sat upfront at the funeral and got all the condolences. They made all the decisions, too. My mom, sister and I sat in the row behind them and were ignored by all their rich affluent friends. They just don't care. They literally lack the mental capacity to care. My own family didn't care that my mom could barely feed us and was being abused. Multimillionaires couldn't donate a single dollar to my mom when she was struggling. She had to beg my nonno for cheques to cover rent and my Aunt had the audacity to whine that it "wasn't fair she was taking money from her inheritance." They are all the same. I'd go to dinner parties and rub elbows with my Aunt's wealthy 'friends' and they are all so fake. So frighteningly charming to your face but what they say through smiles is nightmarish. A lot of them are antivax and believe in ancient aliens and that type of 'POC couldn't have been smart enough to construct pyramids' type of pseudo science. They talk about racial stereotypes as if they've been blessed with elite insider knowledge. And they are almost all like this, Because they live in a bubble filled with only other wealthy people so the delusions just fucking build and build. My best friend (also poor) growing up had rich cousins who were the same--would belittle her family for having teen mothers and being poor. Actually talk shit about them at family gatherings. I met them once and they were the exact same as my Aunt and her friends--charming to your face--even friendly--but the moment your back is turned they're talking shit. They are all the same in that they all have the same mental illness that being wealthy enables. Rich Canadians truly, truly, live in a world where they are so enabled and catered to they develop a mental disability that makes them heartless and selfish. So Doug Ford doesn't care about people and the water that will drown our communities is wet. It's time to start ignoring what this shit heel and the ones like him have to say. I really don't give a fuck what they think because it's never, ever going to change, Because he doesn't think. They don't think. He wont change. So I don't care what he says or thinks. I'm gonna focus on his actions and combating the evils they create while listening to and learning from the people who actually think and care about progress. That's my plan. Cuz listening to the affluent idiots with money and power just depresses me because of how much they hate all of us. They won't change. So we have to force them to, not beg them to.

Submitted by @tyrion-my-wayward-lannister