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#i'll be like a victorian lady
canpandaspvp · 1 year
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i just remembered tommy said a while back that he and molly r gonna go to florida and meet dream yooo
if i live for nothing else it's to see that damn primeboys meet up liek u don't understand that is LITERALLY going to be the day that i die and i've been saying that for like two years now. primeboys meetup will kill me and this is a fact of life cause my heart will fill with so much love and contentness that it will swell and explode and u will all be left with bloody glare remains But at least i will die happy !
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convolv0 · 7 months
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Y'all seeing this??
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wickedcriminal · 1 year
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punknatch · 1 year
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When Sherlock said: "This is my intimate friend and associate, Dr. Watson"
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aldieb · 1 year
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scheduled my first actual normal "seeing a regular doctor so you have contact with a primary physician and they make sure everything is okey dokey" appointment ever of my adult life... pls clap
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justinefrischmanngf · 2 years
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perhaps i will use this time 2 organise my tagging system <3
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underrated garment: skirts.
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suzannahnatters · 1 year
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all RIGHT:
Why You're Writing Medieval (and Medieval-Coded) Women Wrong: A RANT
(Or, For the Love of God, People, Stop Pretending Victorian Style Gender Roles Applied to All of History)
This is a problem I see alllll over the place - I'll be reading a medieval-coded book and the women will be told they aren't allowed to fight or learn or work, that they are only supposed to get married, keep house and have babies, &c &c.
If I point this out ppl will be like "yes but there was misogyny back then! women were treated terribly!" and OK. Stop right there.
By & large, what we as a culture think of as misogyny & patriarchy is the expression prevalent in Victorian times - not medieval. (And NO, this is not me blaming Victorians for their theme park version of "medieval history". This is me blaming 21st century people for being ignorant & refusing to do their homework).
Yes, there was misogyny in medieval times, but 1) in many ways it was actually markedly less severe than Victorian misogyny, tyvm - and 2) it was of a quite different type. (Disclaimer: I am speaking specifically of Frankish, Western European medieval women rather than those in other parts of the world. This applies to a lesser extent in Byzantium and I am still learning about women in the medieval Islamic world.)
So, here are the 2 vital things to remember about women when writing medieval or medieval-coded societies
FIRST. Where in Victorian times the primary axes of prejudice were gender and race - so that a male labourer had more rights than a female of the higher classes, and a middle class white man would be treated with more respect than an African or Indian dignitary - In medieval times, the primary axis of prejudice was, overwhelmingly, class. Thus, Frankish crusader knights arguably felt more solidarity with their Muslim opponents of knightly status, than they did their own peasants. Faith and age were also medieval axes of prejudice - children and young people were exploited ruthlessly, sent into war or marriage at 15 (boys) or 12 (girls). Gender was less important.
What this meant was that a medieval woman could expect - indeed demand - to be treated more or less the same way the men of her class were. Where no ancient legal obstacle existed, such as Salic law, a king's daughter could and did expect to rule, even after marriage.
Women of the knightly class could & did arm & fight - something that required a MASSIVE outlay of money, which was obviously at their discretion & disposal. See: Sichelgaita, Isabel de Conches, the unnamed women fighting in armour as knights during the Third Crusade, as recorded by Muslim chroniclers.
Tolkien's Eowyn is a great example of this medieval attitude to class trumping race: complaining that she's being told not to fight, she stresses her class: "I am of the house of Eorl & not a serving woman". She claims her rights, not as a woman, but as a member of the warrior class and the ruling family. Similarly in Renaissance Venice a doge protested the practice which saw 80% of noble women locked into convents for life: if these had been men they would have been "born to command & govern the world". Their class ought to have exempted them from discrimination on the basis of sex.
So, tip #1 for writing medieval women: remember that their class always outweighed their gender. They might be subordinate to the men within their own class, but not to those below.
SECOND. Whereas Victorians saw women's highest calling as marriage & children - the "angel in the house" ennobling & improving their men on a spiritual but rarely practical level - Medievals by contrast prized virginity/celibacy above marriage, seeing it as a way for women to transcend their sex. Often as nuns, saints, mystics; sometimes as warriors, queens, & ladies; always as businesswomen & merchants, women could & did forge their own paths in life
When Elizabeth I claimed to have "the heart & stomach of a king" & adopted the persona of the virgin queen, this was the norm she appealed to. Women could do things; they just had to prove they were Not Like Other Girls. By Elizabeth's time things were already changing: it was the Reformation that switched the ideal to marriage, & the Enlightenment that divorced femininity from reason, aggression & public life.
For more on this topic, read Katherine Hager's article "Endowed With Manly Courage: Medieval Perceptions of Women in Combat" on women who transcended gender to occupy a liminal space as warrior/virgin/saint.
So, tip #2: remember that for medieval women, wife and mother wasn't the ideal, virgin saint was the ideal. By proving yourself "not like other girls" you could gain significant autonomy & freedom.
Finally a bonus tip: if writing about medieval women, be sure to read writing on women's issues from the time so as to understand the terms in which these women spoke about & defended their ambitions. Start with Christine de Pisan.
I learned all this doing the reading for WATCHERS OF OUTREMER, my series of historical fantasy novels set in the medieval crusader states, which were dominated by strong medieval women! Book 5, THE HOUSE OF MOURNING (forthcoming 2023) will focus, to a greater extent than any other novel I've ever yet read or written, on the experience of women during the crusades - as warriors, captives, and political leaders. I can't wait to share it with you all!
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biromanticbookbabe · 1 year
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01. 02. 2023: Gerry and Adelaide during their first season.
In my head, they were both running around in Gerry's yard just yelling at each other (lovingly) in a reckless lesbian abandon. This was part of a scene idea I had for my WIP.
Lady Davenport (Gerry's mother) and her third husband, Gerry's stepfather, were in the scene too but I didn't draw them here.
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socksoinabox · 2 years
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AF Special delivery attack!!
Art Fight - GonnyLizard's Profile <- check out artist and oc here!
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AF dakota attack
Art Fight - HollyJollySol's Profile <- check out artist and oc here!
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AF Bits attack!
Art Fight - papercwipping's Profile<- check out artist and oc here!
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AF lyra attack!
Art Fight - LuDemons's Profile
and that marks the last of my artfight attacks
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(The final part of November Paramedic; part 6 is here and the AO3 version is here. If you want to avoid the smut, you should read on AO3.)
Eddie's apartment is full of song, but for probably the first time since he moved in it's not metal.
Max sings This Old Heart of Mine with gusto, her attention glued to her fingers as they move on the fretboard. She's in an awkward position, sitting slumped and with her leg propped onto five pillows on the coffee table. An elastic bandage is wrapped around her knee. Steve was right – she did exacerbate the injury by walking on it, and had to spend the next three days on bed rest. The knee already looks a lot better, less swollen but likely still tender, not that she's uttered a peep about it. Today is the first day she's been up and running, though not without support. Since crutches is the uncoolest kind of mobility aid Eddie took it upon himself to dig out a cane from his closet for her to use. When he asked if she liked it, she said it was great for thwacking people; he assumes that means 'yes'.
On the other end of the couch, Gareth taps along on a handheld drum. Max felt like she kept losing the rhythm and wanted extra help. Eddie is certain she was doing fine, but hey, if it calms her last-minute nerves, so be it.
The song ends, the last note lingering in the otherwise silent room. Max heaves a sigh, guitar slipping from her grip as she relaxes into her seat.
Gareth is beaming with pride; Eddie feels it too. Approximately two months of practice led to this. Just two months! He knows that she's been diligent, but still – it's impressive. Damn, he has the raddest little neighbor.
He rests his elbows on the couch's backrest and pokes Max's shoulder.
"It sounds great. You'll do amazing tomorrow."
She nods, lips tugging into a sweetly pleased smile.
"I'm ready," she says. Craning her neck, she locks their gazes. "Are you performing too?"
"No. The stage will be only yours. Although," he pats the acoustic in her lap, "I will of course be there and make sure you treat DragonSlayer with the respect she deserves."
Max's eyes crinkle with mischief.
"She won't react to you ever again after I show her what real talented fingers can do," she says, wiggling said fingers at him, and giggles when he gasps like a Victorian lady at the implied vulgarity. Turning to Gareth, she asks, "Are you gonna be there?"
Gareth's expression crumbles.
"I can't. Something is going around at work and we're short-staffed, so I'm no longer free," he says miserably. "I'll come next time. You'll do it again, right?"
She smiles wryly. "Unless I crash and burn."
Eddie pushes off the backrest and rounds the couch. He hates to spoil the mood any more, but…
"Before I forget," he says, piercing them with an unamused look. He also tries standing with his hands on his hips, but there's no way he can convey the same bitchy determination Steve can with the stance, so it feels hollow. He crosses his arms instead. "You two need to stop conspiring against me."
They blink at him, baffled.
"What?" Gareth says.
"You've been trying to set me up with Steve!"
"Well, yeah," Max says. "But not with him."
"Yeah, not with her."
It's Eddie's turn to blink. Releasing a breath that shudders with emotion, he closes his eyes and rubs circles on his temples.
"You're telling me you've worked independently of each other this entire time?"
"Seems like it!" Gareth laughs, though the mirth dims quickly. "But… who's done the best job?"
They whip toward each other. Their postures are tense, bow strings drawn and ready to shoot. Flames of competitiveness engulf them. Weirdos.
Gareth points at Max. "I made them go on a date!"
"I made them go on two dates!"
"I'm the reason they got to know each other!"
Max scoffs. "Oh, please. As if I wouldn't have eventually introduced them."
"Would you?"
"Sure. They're both older brother figures I can't get rid of who're hopelessly single and into men." She shrugs. "Why not?"
Eddie gasps again, this time more like a grandmother who's been presented with an incomprehensibly scribbled drawing from her toddler grandchild.
"I'm an older brother figure to you?" he asks, bending down to Max's level, his tone patronizingly light.
She sends him a withering look and reaches for her cane.
"Well, they almost kissed on my date!" Gareth shouts.
Max’s jaw drops. She loses her grip on the cane but gains a terrifying intensity in her eyes. A chill runs through Eddie, the tips of his appendages tingling. This is the closest he's ever gotten to catching frostbite.
"What," she says flatly.
Eddie scrambles away, metaphorically and physically, in case she decides to smack him anyway.
"N-no, we- It wasn't- Our faces just- But we didn't!"
"But it was so close," Gareth says, fingers pinched and with maybe the fraction of a fraction of an inch of air between his thumb and forefinger.
"Huh." Max continues staring Eddie down like she's plotting his murder for keeping secrets. He's about to point out that he can't be set up with Steve if he's dead when she swivels back to Gareth. "I'm making them go on a third date."
"Wait, what? When?"
"Open mic tomorrow night," she says, like he's an idiot. The scrunch of Gareth's mouth indicates that he agrees with her.
"Shit." He pats himself down, in search of something. "What time is it? Where's my phone? If I text him now I can schedule a spontaneous hang-out for tonight!"
Eddie's eyes double in size.
"Woah, woah, woah!" he exclaims, hands raised and palms facing out, as if he's warding off wild animals. "You have Steve's number?"
Gareth pauses his search to tilt his head at Eddie, like he's a puzzle he can't figure out how to solve. Or maybe just like he's a huge fucking moron. "You're telling me you don't?"
Eddie clamps his lips together; fights the urge to fidget beneath their judgmental stares. Max slowly shakes her head.
"Dumbass. You need us."
Eddie makes an ugly face at her. "Shut up."
She tuts. "So aggressive. That's a symptom of sexual frustration."
"I'm not-"
"Remember: thin walls."
"They're not that thin! I never hear you!"
"Because I know how to keep my business to myself. And you've heard me practicing the guitar, haven't you?"
He has. Shit. He buries his face in his hands.
"Shit."
"That's right," Max says snippily. "I hear everything. Every. Thing."
"Oh," Gareth says. He squeezes her good knee, oozing empathy from every pore. "Oh, you poor, innocent girl."
She soaks it up, lamenting, "It's been awful."
"Yeah… But, um. You realize that if they get together, then… "
Gareth trails off as Max nods miserably.
"Yeah, I know. I'm resigned to my fate."
Eddie pushes the heels of his hands into his eye sockets until he sees stars. He needs friends who are less invested in his sex life.
Max leaves soon after, cane clacking louder than necessary against the floor. (Eddie suspects he might not get it back once she's healed.) She stops in the doorway on her way out. While smiling in a manner that makes him break out in a cold sweat, she tells him not to take his car to the open mic and to dress nicely.
And then she's gone.
Gareth harrumphs.
"She's planning something for tomorrow. Damnit. This is unfair, you know. She's known him longer; she can talk to and influence both of you in ways I can't. I'm at a disadvantage here."
Eddie, without replying, twirls on the spot and faceplants on the couch.
Gareth groans above him. "Oh, what is it now?"
'Same as always' is what he'd like to say. Instead, he saves his breath by rolling onto his side, curling up his legs, and giving Gareth a look. It must convey how he feels, because Gareth's irritation melts off, replaced with something gentle. He squats by the couch and brushes a stray lock from Eddie's forehead. A bit like how Uncle Wayne would when he still lived at home.
"Eddie, man, you don't have to be nervous. He likes you."
"That makes it worse," Eddie says, voice raspy and thick, and fuck, he's not going to cry over this, is he? Bawl when a boy doesn't like him is normal, not when they do. "He likes me now, but if he finds out I'm his obsessive quasi-stalker? Then what?"
"I think you're blowing this out of proportion," Gareth says. He starts scratching at Eddie's scalp; it's good enough to dry his tears and slow his pulse. "Max knows about the calendar and she doesn't mind!"
Eddie snorts derisively. "Because she's nineteen and doesn't yet understand how some actions can have terrible consequences."
Gareth frowns at that with obvious disapproval. "She's still an adult. For that matter, so are you and Steve? Just talk to him about it." He sighs. "Look, I don't think he'll mind so much that he'll never get over it. And if he does… it sucks. But you'll live. There are dozens of hot guys out there, waiting to be swept off their hot… feet." He pauses to snicker.
"You're so bad at this," Eddie whispers; Gareth snickers even more.
"You know why I've stuck by you all these years?" he asks once done laughing. "Why I even started hanging with you in the first place?"
"You had stoner aspirations and I zero qualms selling weed to fourteen-year-olds?"
Gareth flicks his forehead. "Because you're cool. And likable. And you make people happy when you're around. So go out there tomorrow night and sweep those hot feet!"
Eddie snorts. Then again. His diaphragm tightens, air forces past his pursed lips, and then his body shakes with laughter. Gareth is grinning proudly, of himself and possibly Eddie as well. He snakes his arms around Eddie's waist and pulls him so close the mirth rattles through them both. It takes an eon, but at last, the laughter abates. Eddie’s lungs are sore and his eyes are wet with happiness, and he's still got an armful of best friend clinging to him.
"I'll call you the day after tomorrow." Gareth punctuates the promise with a squeeze, before pulling back. "Lunchtime. And I'll expect progress. Okay?"
Eddie nods. "Okay."
Gareth beams, ruffles Eddie's hair, and then he too leaves the apartment.
Eddie turns onto his back and stares at the ceiling. He doesn’t sigh as much as make noise while gravity pushes the air from his lungs. He could fall asleep here, on this uncomfortable couch. Turns out guitar lessons, worrying, and funny friends deplete your energy.
Before his eyelids slide shut for good he drags himself up to brush his teeth and go lie in his real bed. He needs a proper night's sleep if he'll survive tomorrow.
He wakes up on Saturday having dreamt of Steve. He eats his breakfast while thinking of Steve. He replaces brake pads, rotates tires, and talks to clients while thinking of Steve. He returns home and showers off the sweat and oil while really thinking of Steve.
He also spends a lot longer than usual contemplating how thoroughly he ought to wash himself. Fate dictates that if he cleans as if he might get laid, he won't be. However, if he's perfunctory about it, he's more likely to score. Ultimately, he does an extensive scrub. Rather be presumptuous and get nothing than be unhygienic and get lucky.
Then comes the worst part: picking an outfit.
Max told him to wear something 'nice'. Jesus. 'Wear something nice', what did that even mean? Dress less like himself? Dress more like himself? Something skimpy? Or snug? He has those leather pants that make his legs look divine, but they might be too much. He doesn't want to look like he's trying as hard as he is. Also, he's going to an open mic in a coffee shop at seven in the evening. There will be high schoolers, retirees, families with children, and others present who do not need to see his dick imprint. 'No' to the leather pants.
But maybe…
The hangers clatter and screech as he pushes them aside. Sticking his arm far into his wardrobe, he then pulls it out grasping his other battle vest.
The one in leather.
He hasn't worn it out yet. It's only recently finished, and almost ended up looking too nice, too pristine. It's not really him, not the way his frayed and trusty denim vest is. But it's still a thing of beauty: band logos immaculately painted onto the leather and spikes adorning the shoulders, collar, and lapels.
It's fucking badass. Him, though a little nicer.
He pairs the vest with his tightest Metallica tee – the one with the sleeves shorn off and the neckline cut into a v deep enough to show both tattoos – and distressed, black jeans, rips over the knees and a big hole along the inside of one thigh. The retirees will just have to fucking deal with some exposed skin.
A crowd is thronging inside Connie's when he arrives ten minutes to seven. They've built a makeshift stage on one short side, crammed between the cream'n'sugar station and a huge monstera. Microphones, stools, and a keyboard stand upon it. All the café's tables are pushed to one half of the floor, letting people mill between them and the stage. None of them seem to be his people, though.
Eddie weaves through the crowd, scanning it for short redheads and tall hunks. Nothing… nothing… not-
"Eddie!"
He turns, coming nose to nose, like tip to tip, with Steve, who's… wow. Call him the moon and Eddie a wolf, because he's about to start howling.
He's wearing pants, not jeans, that hug his hips without being obscenely tight and a fitted, teal dress shirt. The sleeves are rolled up and the top two buttons left undone, allowing yet another tantalizing peek of the sculpted pecs beneath. Nice but not too formal, if you ask anyone. Positively edible, if you ask Eddie. His mouth is actually watering a little, which is a sign he's been staring for too long.
Lifting his gaze from Steve's chest to his face, he realizes he could've taken his time because Steve is also staring. At Eddie.
Steve's breaths are slow but deep as he bites his lip hard enough to dent it, tongue flicking out to soothe the mark. Eyes glowing like embers, he trails them over Eddie's body, threatening to set him ablaze.
Eddie's jeans are too fucking tight for this.
"Starting to worry you wouldn't make it," Steve says, low and gravelly.
"No, I just, uh, running a bit late…" Eddie says, faltering as Steve drags a finger along the lapel of his vest.
"Haven't seen you in this before," he murmurs.
"It's new. First time wearing it."
"Where'd you get it?"
"I made it."
Steve's brows jump. "You made it?"
"Make like one-third of my clothes and heavily alter the rest. Metal's all about DIY, baby."
Chuckling, Steve grabs both ends of the attached leather belt and opens the vest for a better look at the Metallica shirt underneath. He doesn't ask any questions about the band, thank God, because Eddie's brain is too liquid to answer. If Steve opened the vest a bit more he'd be undressing him. Or if he tugged at the belt Eddie would stumble into him, he's so off balance.
But Steve does neither; he closes it and lets go.
"I left the others at the table. C'mon."
The rest of them also look nice, Robin in suspenders again, this time paired with shorts, and Lucas in a black sweater-red jacket combo that reminds Eddie of all the cool boys he pined over in high school. Both of them gush compliments at the sight of his vest; their childlike enthusiasm is a pretty effective boner killer, phew. The only one not mentioning his outfit is Max – she's silently staring at the tablecloth, hands in her lap and head bowed.
"Hey, Red," he says.
She looks at him, eyes like clear ponds and her freckles stark against her white skin. It might be his personal bias, but she's the prettiest of them all tonight. Canary yellow t-shirt dress and oversized jean jacket, one shoulder artfully slipping down. Loose, wavy locks cascading past her shoulders. Barely chipped nail polish and glossy lips, but no other makeup. She's radiant.
And she's shaking.
He slides into the chair next to her.
"You're still ready?"
Max nods.
"You know, I still feel like puking every time I perform."
"Yeah?" she breathes.
"Yup." His fingers encircle her wrist, squeezing. "You're gonna crush it."
She smiles tightly.
"Do you want us to film it?" Robin asks. "To show your mom?"
Max's first reaction is a frown, which evaporates at the mention of her mom; then she nods so hard she's indistinguishable from a bobblehead.
"Yes!" she says, and that's the last bit of conversation between them, for the next second the lights dim and Connie ascends the stage to announce the start of the open mic.
It's three hours long, with fifteen performers given ten minutes each, plus a few for getting on and off the stage. Max is number eight, which means she'll have about an hour and a half to sweat before it's her turn. And maybe she does manage to sweat it out and dry off, because when her time comes she strides up with the poise of a seasoned veteran.
A café worker helps her up and adjusts the mic for her. She hooks the cane on the stool and situates the guitar across her lap – one of the younger audience members shouts "Dragon!" to everyone's amusement. Once the laughter stops, she puts her mouth to the mic and emits one stuttering breath.
"Hi," she says. "My name is Max, and I'll be playing two covers and one song I wrote." She giggles as some onlookers whoop their approval. "All three are dedicated to one person here tonight. He knows who he is."
Then she plays. It's the best fucking thing Eddie has heard, not just tonight, but ever.
Her voice is strong, her rhythm is perfect. When she pauses for breath her expression defaults into a blinding smile. She breezes through The Isley Brothers and Stevie Wonder as the crowd claps along. Eddie manages to tear his eyes from her only once, to view the others' reactions. Robin tries to hold her phone steady as she sways in her seat, Steve is misty-eyed like a proud dad, and Lucas…
Lucas sits slumped forward, chin pillowed on his hands, pupils huge and dark. Lovestruck.
After You Are the Sunshine of My Life she takes a breather, sipping from her bottle of water. There's a shift in the air; the audience settles, mood sobering. When she resumes playing, the notes are softer, slower. A melancholy made bearable by her warm tones.
Max's song is about a happy then and an uncertain now. It's a song about guilt and regret. About apologizing and vowing to improve. About past loss and about future hope.
Above all, it's a promise.
It strikes like a blade through Eddie's chest. He shouldn't be hearing this. None but three, or maybe just one, of the people in here should. It's not for their ears, because they can't ever truly understand. It's too personal. Yet, she plays it for them. Tearing open her flesh and breaking her bones to show them. Listening to this is a privilege.
Her last note is a tattoo – covering up those before her, impossible to erase by those following her.
Max smiles and bows, again like a pro. As the café erupts into deafening applause, Lucas shoots from his seat. Appearing by the stage, he extends his arms to her. She hooks hers around his neck and lets him lift her down. Smiling at each other, they rest their foreheads together like they're the only ones in the room. Shit, perhaps they are.
They walk back to the table with Max's cane underneath Lucas' arm, she using him as her crutch. Arriving, the first thing she does is ask Eddie:
"How was it?"
He schools his expression.
"Red. I'm ditching my band. From now on, you and me – duo."
She boxes him in the shoulder, the shine of her smile rivaling a star.
The rest of the open mic is nice, even though the highlight is over. Still, live music is live music (and leaving in the middle would've been unacceptably rude), so they stay until Connie closes the night by thanking everyone present and encouraging them to come back next time.
Outside, they stretch their unused limbs until their joints pop, then walk a few blocks to Steve's car. It makes sense for Eddie not to have taken his van, he tells himself. The BMW is big enough for all five to sit comfortably, and he'll save on gas. Still, there's a disappointment pooling in his gut, because this means Steve will drop off Lucas, Max, and Eddie at their places before driving himself and Robin home. It's not a bad thing! He has yet to figure out how to breach the subject of the calendar. But… getting some more time to talk to Steve without amateur musicians drowning out the words would've been nice.
(This is what he gets for being so thorough in the shower.)
"Well," Robin says, hands clasped behind her head, as the BMW beeps unlocked. "I'll see you guys later."
"Where are you going?" Eddie asks.
"Steve and I live just past that building," she says, pointing. "So, I'll walk while he drives you guys."
Oh.
The disappointed pool freezes. Eddie swallows thickly. This is fine. It means nothing. Steve will drop everyone off and then go home, as planned.
He gets shotgun. Really, it's given to him because Max and Lucas commandeer the backseat, snuggling up on one-and-a-half seats while DragonSlayer claims the third. Eddie doesn't mind in the slightest – not when the kids are so close they're basically on top of each other, slotting together like a pair of puzzle pieces. Watching them separate when they arrive at the apartment complex will be devastating.
Except.
They do not go to the apartment complex. They go to a neighborhood Eddie's never been to before, parking outside a two-story house. So, they're dropping off Lucas first, then Eddie and Max, and then Steve will go home. Just as planned.
"I'm staying with Lucas tonight," Max says. "The DragonSlayer is all yours, Eddie."
She slams the door shut, the two of them walking up the shingled pathway hand in hand.
Steve hums pleasantly. "I think that did the trick – they're an item again. About time, don't you think?"
"Uh, yeah, yep, sure took them long enough, yeppers," Eddie's mouth says with negative input or permission from his brain.
Steve grins before pulling out, shirt straining against his arm as he turns the wheel and holy shit, Eddie is alone in a car with Steve!
Is everyone conspiring against him?!
Steve makes small talk during the drive, recounting which songs he recognized, sharing his favorite performances, asking for Eddie's more knowledgeable opinion. Eddie responds to the best of his abilities, which is to say 'poorly'.
When they stop by a red light and Steve absent-mindedly undoes the third button on his shirt, Eddie’s mouth dries up and he stops responding altogether, fearing his tongue will crumble to dust if he tries. If Steve is put out by Eddie's conversational skills reducing to various affirmative noises, he doesn't show it.
Finally reaching the complex, Eddie resolves to at least croak a 'thank you for the ride'. But when he turns to do just that, Steve is already looking earnestly at him with his large, honeyed eyes.
"It's really nice of you, teaching Max to play. Thank you."
"Oh, 'twas nothing." Eddie clears his throat. "She's a good student."
"I'm curious: is there a difference between acoustic and electric?"
"Not really. Electric is a little easier, 'cause they're smaller and the strings are lighter."
"Acoustic sounds better, though," Steve says and laughs at Eddie's answering grimace. "All right, maybe not to the metal master," (Eddie stifles a gigglesnort; what an adorable dork), "but to a common listener, such as myself, acoustic is nicer. You can try to change my mind if you want, though."
"By… playing both for you?"
"Yeah."
Eddie gulps audibly. "N-now?"
Steve's smile is almost too wide for his face. He cocks his head, a lock of hair falling into his eyes, who are gleaming like gold in the light of the nearby street lamp.
"I'm not busy."
Eddie leads them up the stairs to his fourth-floor apartment. Their steps echo in time with the drumming of Eddie's heart. His grip on the DragonSlayer is unyieldingly stiff, lest it slides from his clammy palm.
This is fine. Steve is going to listen to him play and then go home, just as planned.
Like the building, the locks are old; his key jams and needs to be rattled before the door opens. He lets Steve in first, then closes the door behind them. Steve waits patiently, back to the wall and chest inches from Eddie's. Has the hallway always been this cramped?
Eddie turns to fumble around for the light switch, breath hitching when Steve touches his shoulders. Grasping the vest's spiked lapels, he pulls it off Eddie's frame and hangs it on the coat rack. Next, he grabs the guitar – warm, dry skin brushing Eddie's – and props it by the doorpost. Last, he looks at Eddie, his eyes searching, searching, searching…
Disregarding his sensibilities, Eddie nods.
Steve kisses him.
The force of it sends them stumbling, Eddie's back slamming into the wall. Their mouths smush together and their noses bump; for a moment it's too hard, too much. But then Steve angles his head, their lips melding, and it's perfect. Like silk sheets and rose petals, like champagne and chocolate truffles, like summer nights and meteor showers.
Steve mumbles something about waiting, about wishing, about finally. He's touching Eddie everywhere, chest pinning him against the wall, hands running up and down his arms, thigh pushing between his legs. His hard cock pokes against Eddie's groin, and it feels so thick.
All of Eddie's nerve endings are lighting up, sending tingles to converge in his belly before shooting back out to his limbs. He has no regrets. Everything he's done or that's been done to him was worth it, because it led to the best fucking kiss of his life. Steve will have to keep him after this – exposing him to this kind of touch only once would be cruel.
It's gentle, is the thing, but with the passion of a thousand lovers. Steve cups his face, tipping it, thumb caressing his cheek and fingers rubbing circles in his hair. His lips, soft but determined, parts Eddie's for a quick taste that leaves him wanting.
Eddie tries chasing, but Steve withholds – fucking teases – and goes back to nipping and licking. Rolling his hips until Eddie gasps, then slipping in his tongue to stroke the roof of Eddie's mouth. Then he starts over again, repeating the cycle until Eddie is whining, his knees so weak he slumps onto Steve's thigh.
Grabbing hold of his ass, Steve hoists him up. Eddie squawks, legs automatically wrapping around Steve's waist. Steve grins, juuuust on the wrong side of smug, and steps away from the wall, carrying Eddie like it's nothing. It would be infuriating if Eddie wasn't too busy wondering if, and if so for how long, Steve could fuck him like this.
"Bedroom?" Steve asks.
"Yeah, it's, uh, through there," Eddie says, pointing in what might be the right direction.
Then he yanks Steve's head back by his pretty hair and swallows his moan. Because with Steve's hands occupied, it means Eddie can do whatever he wants. And what he wants is shove his tongue as far down Steve's throat as he can.
It takes them a while, but they reach the bedroom. Steve deposits them on the bed, bringing them from vertical to horizontal in a smooth slide without breaking the kiss.
Eddie wraps tighter around him, wanting to feel him everywhere and always. Alas, Steve disentangles them with a chuckle. He sits up so he's kneeling, legs spread, Eddie's thighs resting on top of his. A hungry glint in his eyes, he undoes one more of his buttons, then forgoes the rest by pulling the shirt off like a sweater and flinging it aside.
Eddie wastes no time touching him, groping the firm pecs and caressing the soft belly. The coarse hair tickles his palms.
"Fuck me, you're perfect," he murmurs.
Steve giggles, pink blooming on his face. Coaxing Eddie's hands off him, he arranges his limbs on the bed, and Eddie lets him – he can do anything as long as he does it shirtless. He smooths his hand over the Metallica logo, pretty much petting his chest, before rucking the shirt up to Eddie's chin. Steve's eyes are black, more pupil than iris; he thumbs at the tattoo on Eddie's ribs.
"I was hoping you'd have more," he says. His other hand slides across Eddie's leg, fingers ghosting the edge of the large hole before one slips inside, tucking between the denim and the skin of Eddie's thigh. Eddie gasps; Steve smiles. "How much do I need to take off to see all of them?"
"Why don't you find out, big boy?" Eddie says, breathless but grinning, scooting closer to rub his ass on Steve's dick.
Steve rips off Eddie's shirt, tosses it where he tossed his own, and crashes their lips together as he unbuckles Eddie's belt.
Eddie hums into the kiss. It's perfect. Steve is perfect. The whole thing is as if out of a dream. Jesus Christ, it is straight out of one of his fantasies. The only thing missing is… is…
The uniform.
Fuck. He can't do this. Not like this. Fuck.
Eddie breaks the kiss, gently pushing Steve away.
"Eddie?"
He shakes his head, eyes screwed shut. Looking at Steve right now is impossible – the shame will consume him. He shouldn't have let it go this far.
"Eddie? What's wrong?" Steve asks. "Please, I-"
"There's something you gotta know." Eddie forces his eyes open. The least Steve deserves is to be looked at while given the truth. Also, this is the first and possibly last time Eddie will see Steve on top of him. He should savor it. "I haven't been completely honest."
Steve's eyes dim. "You're married."
Eddie goggles. "What? No! Shit, I've never had a relationship go past the three-month mark. No, it's… Um…"
He sighs. Here comes the music; time to face it.
"You know that calendar you did? Gareth told you his mom had it?"
"Yes?"
"He lied. It's mine. I have the calendar." He inhales deeply, then lets it all out in one fast gust. "I recognized you the first time we met and I thought you were so hot and Gareth thought we should try finding you at the university and we did and then we hung out and now, uh, now we're here."
Steve blinks owlishly. "Oh."
"Yeah. I've jerked off to your picture for two and a half years and I thought you should know." Eddie rubs his eyes; they're burning, and his nose is clogging. Shit, not now… "So, um. If you want to stop, if you never want to see me again, I understand. I'm sorry."
"It's fine."
"It- Huh?"
Eddie's jaw slackens. He gawks up at Steve, who calmly meets his gaze. But it can't be this easy. It's never this easy, not for Eddie.
"S'fine." Steve shrugs. "Was that all?"
"Uh. Yeah."
"Good."
He dives back to resume the kiss, except this time it's hotter, dirtier, Steve licking behind his teeth and sucking on his tongue so Eddie's toes curl. He yanks Eddie's jeans and boxers down to his thighs, Eddie's cock springing out. Steve grips it, but doesn't stroke or squeeze – just holds. Eddie starts rocking into his fist and oh, oh, it's so good but not enough. He's so hard his head is spinning and he needs Steve's hands and his cock and he needs he needs he needs-
"Eddie," Steve says into Eddie's mouth. "What d'you want me to do? Tell me."
"Mmm, I want… Fuck, I needed you inside me two years ago."
Steve licks a wet stripe along his throat. "Whatever you want."
Then he sits up and flips Eddie over. Eddie grunts at the sudden movement, but his cock between his stomach and the mattress feels heavenly, and Steve parting his ass cheeks is even better, so he's not complaining.
He's especially not complaining when Steve leans down, rubbing his nose against Eddie's tailbone.
"You're okay with any part of me inside you?" he asks, breath warm on Eddie's skin.
Eddie groans. "Yes. Anything! Just touch me!"
Steve does, dragging the flat of his tongue from Eddie's taint up to his hole.
Eddie keens, burying it in the pillow due to those damn thin walls. It probably doesn't help, because he's being loud. He usually is, but not like this. Turns out Steve's tongue is amazing no matter where he puts it. He swirls it around the hole, laps heavily against the rim, slowly loosening Eddie up.
He writhes and moans, cock leaking precum on the sheets. Jerking forward, he humps the mattress for two sweet, relieving seconds before Steve grabs him by the hips and holds him in place. He would've griped about it if Steve hadn't immediately plunged his tongue into Eddie's hole. But Steve does, so Eddie screams instead.
Fuck the walls, he's having the time of his life.
He has been rimmed before, two or three times, but not this intensely. He hasn't been fucked by another man's tongue. Because that's what Steve's doing, lips on Eddie's ass and saliva dripping down his taint. He's as far in as it can go, tongue thrusting and stroking and… oh. Oh! Oh, fuck-
Eddie jolts, despite being held down, because Steve just flicked his tongue tip against someplace sensitive. He whines, begging Steve to do it again. Steve laughs, the sound reverberating through Eddie's ass, and does as told. And again. And again.
He flicks. Eddie screams.
He flicks. Screams.
Flicks. Screams.
And Eddie's on fire. His legs are shaking, his insides are thrumming, the pleasure courses and courses in electric waves and shit, did he just come?
"Holy shit, I think I just came," he says, fingers cramping where they've clutched the covers.
Steve pulls out with a slurp.
"Oh, cool," he pants. He crawls up the bed, his hard cock dragging a wet trail on Eddie's leg. "D'you wanna take a break or keep going?"
Eddie groans. What kind of a fucking question is that? His cock is still hard, and Steve's cock is hard, and Eddie is reeling from the best orgasm he's ever had, and does he want to keep going?
"Steve…" he says. "If you don't fuck me now, then I'll… I'll… " He trails off, slurring.
"Yes," Steve says, catching on anyway. "Okay. Yes."
He sounds wrecked. Glancing over his shoulder, Eddie is met by perfect hair in disarray, cheeks flushed and blotchy, a chin glistening with drool, and Steve's wild, ember eyes. Assured he's not the only one losing his mind, Eddie thumps his head back on the pillow. Bending his knees, he pushes his ass into the air and reaches back to spread his cheeks with his own fingers.
"Then hurry up, big boy," he croons, index finger circling the spitslick rim. "Before I do it myself."
Steve laughs, high-pitched like he's drunk. He fumbles for Eddie's lube and a condom he brought, thank fuck, because Eddie only has expired ones.
Lying on top of Eddie, Steve aligns their arms and interlocks their fingers, and pushes in. Eddie whimpers, because as loose and cock-starved as he is, Steve is huge, the tip alone wrecking his already sore ass. Steve shushes him gently, brushing away sweat-damp curls to plant a soft kiss at his nape. He rocks slowly, squeezing Eddie's hand and rubbing his hip, until the stretch gets better and the pain eases.
And then they fuck. Or maybe 'make love' is a more fitting term, because they hold hands during most of it. And sometimes, Steve will ease off, going so slow and sweet it borders on edging, drawing high-pitched noises from far down Eddie's chest. Then, once satisfied, he speeds up again, fucking harder while whispering compliments into Eddie's skin.
He makes Eddie come two more times, by fucking him and by jerking him off. At least, Eddie thinks that's what happened when he wakes up some hours later. He got a little delirious with pleasure at the end, though, so he's not a hundred percent sure.
He yawns and stretches. It's dark out, but the blinds are open and light pours in from the street lamp that for some reason had to be positioned right by his window.
"That light is the worst," Steve mumbles, burrowing into the pillow.
"Hmm, yeah. But I don't have to have my own lamp on. I save on electricity."
"Economical." Steve laughs, peeking up from the bedding. He's beautifully rumpled, bathed in shadows and light. "How d'you feel?"
"Awesome… did you clean me up?"
"Kinda had to – you passed out. I'm not letting you sleep with come crusting all over you," Steve says, nose scrunching.
"Not my fault. Blame your cock!"
They laugh again, together. It's nice. But it would've been nicer if there wasn't still one tiny thing nagging in the back of Eddie's head.
"Hey," he mumbles. "When you said… that the stuff with the calendar was fine, did you mean it? Or was your judgment clouded by horniness?"
Steve snorts. "'Course I meant it. I don't mind."
"Jesus."
"Do you want me to mind?"
"No. It's just that I've been putting off telling you about it because I was afraid you'd be upset. It's pretty creepy."
"Yeah, but…" Steve props his head onto his fist and shrugs one shoulder. "I guess it would be creepier if it were someone else. But it's you, and I like you, so… it's just flattering."
A grin stretches across Eddie's face. "You like me?"
"Uh, yeah." Steve rolls his eyes, but his face is also splitting in half. "Don't you like me?"
"I do."
Eddie winds his arms around Steve's waist, pulling him in for a kiss.
"I thought so," Steve says after their lips part. "I just didn't know how much – if you wanted to just fuck or if you wanted something more. Max was hinting you wanted more. And your friends seemed too invested for you not to want more. Then Robin told me 'he definitely wants more'. So I knew it was safe to go."
"Christ, dude, I like you so much I've given myself ulcers worrying you didn't like me back!"
"Sorry," Steve says unapologetically. "You can stop worrying."
They embrace, trading chaste kisses as they snuggle. Alternating between whispering nonsense and drawing patterns on each other and simply looking, unabashed and unhurried.
Then, Steve pulls away with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
He asks, "So where do you keep that calendar?"
Eddie's heart and stomach leap, trading places and knocking every other organ off course. He lunges at Steve, coiling around him like an octopus and trapping him to the bed.
"Nooooo!"
Steve guffaws. "I'm not gonna look for it! You'll have to tell me where it is."
He cocks his head at Eddie, sweet, innocent, evil. Eddie groans with the vigor of an annoyed pre-teen. Releasing Steve, he points at his desk.
"Top drawer."
Steve flies up, rummaging through the drawer before Eddie can blink. Whooping in triumph, he holds the calendar in front of himself and begins flipping through it. Eddie pulls the comforter up to his nose to hide his blush.
"April is missing?" Steve asks.
"The model was a cop."
"Ah."
Steve reclaims his spot on the bed. He's reached November and is scanning the photo with an approving smile.
Eddie grunts. "Are you admiring your own photo?"
"So? It's a good picture." Steve smirks at him. "I know you agree."
Grumbling, Eddie hides completely beneath the cover. This is what he gets for being honest. He's never telling the truth again.
"What do you say about me fucking you while wearing the uniform?" Steve asks.
Eddie throws off the comforter and catapults into sitting.
"We can do that?"
"Sure," Steve says easily, like he didn't just turn Eddie's world upside down. "Unless…" He leans in, lips hovering over Eddie's. "Unless you want to fuck me while I wear it?"
They don't fall back asleep until hours later.
(In fact, they sleep in until 11 am, when Eddie's alarm goes off. Gareth calls by lunchtime as promised, but Eddie misses it. He's too busy getting fucked against the shower wall.)
"You're not allowed to break up," Max says later that day, during their guitar lesson. The open mic might've passed, but she needs to learn more if they'll perform together. "It'll be awkward if you're exes. I won't be able to hang out with Steve if you're next door – I'll have to move."
Eddie smiles. He should point out they're not really together yet; that they've only barely started dating. Instead, he says:
"We won't."
And he can't explain how, but it's as if some higher power whispered all the answers to him while he slept in Steve's arms and he knows, he just knows, that he's telling the truth.
------------------------------
Thank you for reading. You're the best.
Oh, and I realize that I introduced things that excited a ton of people (such as Eddie meeting everyone else), so I might have to write a mini-sequel where that actually happens. Not now, though. Later.
Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lenore1232, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll, @theysherobinbuckley, @freddykicksasses, @winterbuckwild, @sideblogofthcentury, @subparbrainfunction, @pemsha
984 notes · View notes
vincentbriggs · 1 month
Note
hi uh, i really enjoy your art and your sewing, I'm even subbed over on youtube, but I jsut wanna say thanks for being you. It's really cool to learn you're trans, and it's revitalizing my desire to get back into historic sewing. I didn't know if or how big the trans communityw as in the recreation sewing, but knowing we're out there in this community too is really assuring. I'm super excited to start working on patterns and styles I haven't been able to do before. Thank you for all you do!
Hello, thank you!! There are quite a lot of trans people who are into historical sewing! I can't think of very many here on tumblr - there's @rowzien who does lovely early 19th century stuff, and I'm sure plenty of trans costuming people will say "same hat!" in the comments of this post.
There are a lot more that I know of on instagram, so I'll just list a bunch off. (I pretty much never look at my instagram feed and don't remember the names of most of the people I follow, let alone their genders, so I likely missed some but ah well.) Some of these are more cosplay, larp, or vintage focused accounts, but there's some sort of sewing and/or costuming on all of them.
jonesyollie (friend who made the timesheet from the previous post!), bequeermakestuff, evilqueenbeecosplays (sadly there aren't many ladies in this post, but I'm sure there are more out there!), ora_lin (they sell patterns!), noodle.stitch, ashlgcostumes (they have a lot of youtube videos and a nice speaking voice), rose_prince_lee, qtcostumer, enby.vintage, kiyoteacups, transcending_time_costuming, slightly_teddy (he's also on tumblr but hasn't posted in ages), angryhistoryguy (he once said in a facebook comment that he has so many transmasc reenactor friends that they could make a Monstrous Regiment), woodsmokeandwords, and marlowelune (SUCH good historical/fantasy everyday clothes, agh! love their wardrobe and illustrations!).
Honourable mention to matthewpcarlsen and dario_princiotta, who haven't put pronouns in their bios and I don't want to speculate on anyone's gender, but it's some good gender juice either way. Matthew pairs a bushy moustache with perfectly fitted Victorian gowns and looks amazing in them, and Dario is really into tightlacing and weird sculptural corsetry.
This is, alas, not a particularly diverse list of people. Like the costuming community at large, it skews towards white and afab, but that does seem to be gradually improving over the years - I certainly see a lot more people of colour doing historical costuming now than I did a decade ago. (I've been into historical sewing since approximately 2010).
As your ask demonstrates, when people don't see themselves represented in a space they're more likely to avoid it/assume it's not for them, which is the entire reason I occasionally mention being trans in my posts!
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stars-and-the-min · 8 days
Text
☆ the wrong way to hard launch (12) | OP81
summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au
pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc
a/n from miami, USA to sofia, bulgaria
bro miami gp was WILD i can't believe i slept thru it 😭
masterlist | last part | part 12 | next part (tba)
TWITTER
pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h landoscar sitting so far apart from each other at the same miami heat game is incredibly funny to me ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h do they even talk 😭 do you think they knew the other was going?
oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 36m oscar sighting today vs lina sighting today
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↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 1h its like 25 degrees in miami and 10 degrees in sofia
INSTAGRAM
aidan_ebass Sofia, Bulgaria
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liked by cameliazzz and 231,029 others
aidan_ebass a love letter to sofia tagged: cameliazzz and selinabui
lottie2418 EXCUSE ME SIR THAT LAST PHOTO???
2cami4lina aid posts once in a blue moon and it's always wild like who even took that photo
emptybottlos why are they whoring out aidan, gramps blink twice if ur being held at gunpoint ↳ aidan_ebass @emptybottlos 😐😑😐😑😐
TWITTER
EB Updates @emptybottles_news · 4h 🗨️| hey guys, recently a lot of my posts have been flooded with a bunch of lina hate. this is insanely unwarranted, if you don't like empty bottles or ANY of the members, please do not interact with my account. it's really disheartening to see so many people insult this incredibly hard-working woman that such a huge fanbase, including myself, adore and claiming to speak on behalf of her bandmates, friends and even boyfriend is absolutely vile. ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 4h admin i fear it's time to spam block bc i'm getting sick of it as well ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 3h alright, start throwing hands. any tongue that rises against selina bui shall fall, we ride at dawn
kayla @luna_apocolypse · 27m i am begging BEGGING that the european leg isn't completely FUCKED by the hate train like PLS LINA return to giving no shits and flirt all you want ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 12m well like... maybe let's not overdo the flirting
INSTAGRAM
mclaren Hard Rock Stadium
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liked by landonorris and 54,205 others
mclaren A little look into OP81's Miami media day shenanigans 👀 tagged: oscarpiastri
eb_jonno your joking we just got rid of the nfl guy ↳ oscarpiastri @eb_jonno My skills would never get me to the NFL so I think you're safe
pastry81 lina pls save this man and his wardrobe, go girl give us nothing
TWITTER
camilina gfs fr @ drummergf · 2h literally all of ebtwt waiting with bated breath over sofia n1 😭 ↳ camilina gfs fr @ drummergf · 2h i'm a camilina truther but if i do not see lukas remove selina's gloves on a grainy livestream I WILL CRY
kay ♡ @ blackcatluna · 1h THEY DID IT OH MY GOD THEY DID THE GLOVE MOVE I'M INCONSOLABLE ↳ kay ♡ @ blackcatluna · 1h @luna_apocolypse SLEEP WELL TWINSIE THOSE BITCHES ARE BACK TO BEING DERANGED ON STAGE
lina bui x2 grammy winner @urdaisea · 1h we must look so unhinged to locals, we look like a bunch of victorian ladies screaming over a guy removing a pair of gloves i can't- ↳ lina bui x2 grammy winner @urdaisea · 1h YES IT'S MASSIVE AND I'VE NEVER BEEN GLADER TO SEE THE RETURN OF THIS MOVE BUT HOLY SHIT WE'RE DYING OVER TWO BESTIES FAKE FLIRT
lukas 🔛🔝 @lukiepookie28 · 53m HE KISSED HER HAND OH WE'RE SO BACK LUKAS ZHANG YOU LITTLE FLIRT EFNSDJCNSDI
opal @pxastrixxx · 21m i've said it before and i'll say it again; you do not treat friends like that ↳ piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 16m do you genuinely not know what a performance is?
EB Updates @emptybottles_news · 3m Empty Bottles played Sofia (originally sung by @ clairo) as their audience selection song during the encore! ↳ amie <3 @mieflrs · 2m oh they understood the assignment this is EXACTLY the shit they should be getting lina to sing
MESSAGES
from the phone of oscar piastri
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INSTAGRAM
emptybottles_official Arena Sofia
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liked by chrisyamada and 328,375 others
emptybottles_official First stop of the European leg done and dusted! Sofia, you guys were a dream, we hope you had fun with us these past two nights ❤️
cami.png when the weather's so cold lina debuts a new minidress with sleeves 😭
eb_jonno why are you doing me dirty, i thought we were friends ↳ emptybottles_official @eb_jonno You signed off on this photo ↳ eb_jonno @emptybottles_official can i... change my mind?
mrslukaszhang they all look so good it's criminal
sofia.michaels good day to be named sofia 🥰
oscarpiastri Hard Rock Stadium
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liked by quadlock and 209,486 others
oscarpiastri P6² in Miami
pi4str1 oscar, sweetie, i don't think that's how math works
opeightyone That gorgeous gorgeous helmet 😍
lukaszhang best of luck for the race tomorrow mate ↳ oscarpiastri @lukaszhang Thanks man
TWITTER
pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h WTF DID OSCAR HAVE THIS MORNING HOLY SHIT, THAT WAS SPECTACULAR
McLaren @ McLarenF1 · 2h OSCAR. JACK. PIASTRI!!!
piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 1h carlos sainz when i get my hands on you...
oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 17m OH MY GOD OH MY GOD LANDO WIN???? LANDO NORRIS WINS???? ↳ 🕯️manifesting EB3 🕯️@ linabelles · 8m rip 'lando nowins', u were one of the funniest nicknames of the sport
clovie @ luvyouvie · 20m oscar p13, u were robbed my son, that was straight-up highway robbery
MESSAGES
from the phone of oscar piastri
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✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:
taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification @cherry-piee @urfavsgf @eiaaasamantha @sp1rl @destinyg237
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weemsfreak · 9 months
Note
One shot with Jane Murdstone where she's being sexualy harassed and reader, her childhood friend, steps in and stops it. The two go to readers house and start talking, eventually confessing their feelings for each other which leads to a long session if love making. Sub!Jane?
Magnetic
Hello! I'm happy to say that this is my first Jane Murdstone fic! I've always wanted to write her, but I didn't know much about the Victorian times, or how to write a lady so metallic yet make her soft at the same time. Anyway, I tried my best to make it Jane as we know her, but in an interesting part of her life. Any tips are appreciated as I'm still not the best at writing smut, enjoy! :)
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Warnings: Sexual harassment/assault, knives (no real violence), mention of blood, smut, Sub!Jane, Dom!fReader
(Also, apologies, this became big very fast ~9k words)
You found yourself at a saloon one Friday night, not that you didn't find yourself at one often. Your job was rather, well, emotionally scarring and energy depleting, you would say. Regardless of the fact that you had been doing this job for years, everyday took a toll on you. What was worse than your job, though, was that you felt alone. You felt so alone in this job and in life, and you couldn't talk to anyone about what you did or how you felt, so you didn't really talk to anyone, you didn't connect with anyone.
"Good evening sir, how may I assist you?" a woman asked strictly, staring with a frown at a man who was making his way over to her table.
"I have to admit, you're absolutely stunning, I can't keep my eyes off of you" the man mumbled, as he leaned on the back of the woman's chair.
The woman's face grew red with embarrassment. She was flattered by his statement, but taken back at how forward he was being.
"Well, thank you…I suppose" she said a little quieter.
"What's a pretty thing like you doing here alone, waiting for someone? Perhaps me?" the man grinned and spoke in a flirty tone. The woman's face grew colder.
"Sir, I appreciate the compliments, however, I believe you are being far too forward."
The man chuckled, "Come on now darlin', there is no need to be so uptight, loosen up and enjoy the night. I'm not harming anyone." The woman had grown tired of this man the second he walked her way. It seemed that at times she attracted people easily, for this wasn't the first time an unwanted man was this forward with her. Her eyebrows furrowed as she stood up from her chair and faced the man, towering over him. "Now listen here you scoundrel, if you cannot contain yourself like the gentleman you claim you are, I have no other choice but to remove myself from this situation" she growled, as a lady would. The man was not phased by her words as he moved closer to her and grabbed her waist.
The woman was caught off guard at his bold action, and her stern demeanour dropped slightly, she was nervous. She was always so confident and so sure, she was never one to back down. She was known as the metallic lady, not to her knowledge, though. She was strong and kept her iron walls up, she would never let anyone, let alone a low life man, get to her. Lately though, she had been struggling, she had been faltering.
"Let..me..go" the woman said, trying her hardest to sound unphased as she pushed at the man's arms. He didn’t let go, instead he stood tall and whispered in her ear.
"You are a tall, feisty woman, I like that in the bedroom."
The woman was absolutely disgusted by the man's behavior, and she tried even harder to shove him off of her.
"How dare you speak to me in such a way? I'll have you know that I am a respectable lady of higher society. Now, I said let me go!"
She desperately tried to pull away from the man, but she couldn't move very well. He didn't look very strong, but apparently he was stronger than her. Her blood started to boil at the mans audacity, and a low growl crept up her throat.
The man crept closer to her and whispered again, "Such a shame that an attractive lady like yourself has to play hard to get."
Suddenly, the man moved from the woman's ear to her lips and reached up to kiss her, not giving her a chance to say or do anything. The woman's eyes went wide as she felt the mans lips on hers, and she tried so hard not to gag. She was furious that a gross man would ever think she would want him, let alone take what he wanted without permission.
She pulled away from him with all her strength and hollered, "Enough!"
She lifted her foot and kicked the man in the groin, hoping he would back off. The man was somehow unphased by her kick, and he pulled her back towards him, determined to get what he wanted. Her kick was not hard enough it seemed, and she felt hopeless as she struggled to get away from him. She nervously looked around the saloon. It was a busy spot, but nobody seemed to be paying attention, or maybe they just didn't care. The woman felt helpless and terrified, which she had only felt a handful of times in her life. She wanted to cry as she thought that she may have to do something drastic.
You were lost in your drink, swirling it around and taking a big gulp. Your eyes panned around the saloon, ugh, there were too many intoxicated men. Halfway across the saloon, you spotted a tall woman dressed in black, a woman that you couldn't miss, as if your eyes were drawn to her and were unable to move elsewhere. She was wrapped in a mans arms, but you remembered seeing her sitting with a different man earlier, and then at one point she was sitting alone. Your face knit in confusion. She looked familiar to you, but you couldn't quite place why. She was pale with raven hair, dressed in all black. She had a stern looking demeanour and a confident stature, and yet she looked like she was scared. She reminded you of someone from your childhood. Could it be? As you were lost in your thoughts, the woman's eyes met yours. They were big, blue, piercing, and, terrified? You fell out of your daydream and landed back into reality, hard, as you watched the woman try to push the man off of her. You finally concluded that the man was not wanted by her, it was obvious. He brought his hand up to the woman's mouth and muffled her words, just as she tried to say something. The woman looked to you again with pleading eyes, and you knew she needed help. You abandoned your drink, patting a secret pocket in your dress to make sure you knew where your weapon was, just in case.
You walked over to the woman and the man and looked up at her, then at him. He didn't notice you, but the woman did, as she tried to mumble something to you. You reached up and grasped the mans hand, removing it from her mouth.
"Let the lady talk, sir" you said sternly.
The man turned to you, a shocked and angry expression falling over his face.
"How dare you interrupt me and my lady's fun!"
 You heard some men in the back who were witnessing the situation, laughing over the man's actions.
"Your lady?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
The man smiled, "Why of course. We're having a good time tonight, isn't that right, honey?"
The man looked to the woman again, still holding her close. You also averted your gaze to the woman's. Her eyes were now watery, but she wasn't one to ever let someone see her cry, you knew that. She didn't say anything, and she wouldn't look at him, only at you. Her eyes pierced yours, as if she could see inside of you and knew your whole being, perhaps she did. Those eyes brought back memories, joyful memories. You nodded slightly at the woman and proceeded to dig your nails into the mans hands, pulling them away from her waist.
"Ah! What the hell are you doing?" the man gasped loudly.
You stood in between the man and the woman, peering up at the man.
You almost growled at him, "The lady does not want to be around you, sir. Please leave." 
The man's expression turned enraged again as he stood taller, he looked like he wanted to fight. He huffed and averted his gaze back to the woman, a smug look on his face.
"Your little lady friend here was enjoying my company" he mused.
Again, you heard people in the back laugh at his antics.
Your fists tightened by your sides in anger, "The lady doesn't want to be in your company" you growled.
You felt the woman's gaze on you from behind, there was a bit of relief and gratitude on her face.
"I think she was very much enjoying her time with me" the man smiled. Your jaw clenched, how stupid was this man?
"Sir, are you oblivious? Or do you perhaps enjoy assaulting women?" you asked.
The man's smile dropped, "Look, it was just one quick kiss! There is nothing wrong with that, ladies love some attention."
Your eyes widened as he confessed to kissing her against her will. You also found his comments to be incredibly insulting.
"Not all lady's like a man's attention" you grit at him.
The man looked at you with a smirk on his face, "I know plenty of ladies who enjoy attention from a gentleman. Are you not taken, pretty one?"
You had had enough, this was so insulting, so tiring, and so god damn annoying.
You rolled your eyes at him, "I'd never let a man touch me, pretty one."
The man laughed as he stumbled towards you, "Please, let lose and have some fun, woman."
A smirk crept up on your face, oh, you'd have some fun.
"I am quite enjoying myself now, actually" you sarcastically replied.
The man, who was clearly way too intoxicated, smiled and winked at you.
"Glad you think so, little miss."
You sighed and rolled your eyes at him as you turned around to face the woman.
You craned your neck to look up at her, "Shall we go, my lady?"
The woman fought back tears as she looked down at you and nodded.
Somehow, she spoke with composure, "Yes, I do believe we should."
You nodded back at her and went to lead her out of the saloon as you saw the man move closer to her in your peripheral vision.
"And where do you think you are going, sweetheart?" he asked hastily.
You moved fast to stand in between the man and woman again, staring up at the man with fire in your eyes.
"Oh, am I interrupting something here?" he asked sarcastically.
"In fact you are" you spat at him.
The man laughed again and smirked at the woman, "I'm sure your lady friend would like to stay."
The woman didn't hold back on giving him a disgusted look, she never would.
You smiled at the man, "Ah. So you are just straight up stupid" you mused.
The man frowned down at you, "You are the stupid one. Clearly, my lady here is enjoying my presence." Your eyebrows quirked up, "and blind" you muttered.
The man chuckled dismissively as he reached to grab the woman by her waist again. You immediately grabbed for your coffin handled bowie knife and pulled it out of your dress, forcing it against his neck before he could reach the woman. The men in the back ceased their laughter as the man froze and slowly looked down at the knife.
"I wouldn't touch her if I were you" you seethed.
The man's face was now filled with hesitation and fear, it made you happy. He looked over at the woman, then back at you, and he slowly retracted his hand.
"I guess I will be leaving now." You held your knife against his neck until he turned and walked away.
You spun around to face the woman and she looked down at you with her mouth open, as if she could not believe what had just happened.
She stuttered, "I… I cannot thank you enough my lady. I do not know how to repay you for protecting me."
You smiled and bowed, "No payment needed, my lady."
You couldn't help but notice the woman blush a bit as a small smile crept up onto her face.
"Well, you are just too kind" she spoke joyfully, but quietly. You looked around the saloon, men were still staring at you both, surprised at the turn of the show.
"Care to take a walk, my lady?" you said, reaching out for her hand.
You could see something in the woman's eyes as she looked into yours, hopefully it was relief.
"I would like that very much, yes" she smirked.
 The woman took your hand and you lead her out of the saloon, finally.
You and the woman walked down the dark, dimly lit street in silence. You lead her to a bench under a tall, beautiful filled out tree. You gestured for the woman to sit down, and you followed. There was silence for a moment as you both looked up at the night sky, then you heard her speak.
"Thank you, for everything you did. You were incredibly brave, I cannot thank you enough. When that man kissed me I just, I felt so scared."
 She sounded so timid, but rightfully so, she just went through something traumatic. You found it odd though, the girl you knew from your childhood was so cold looking, so serious, so stern, so sure, so metallic.
You couldn't believe that the man had kissed her, oh, you should've put your knife right through him!
You looked at the stunning woman, "Of course my lady, it's my pleasure, truly."
The woman nodded and averted your gaze as she looked up at the beautiful tree, full of small blossoms and the night sky, full of many far away stars.
"I must ask, what is your name?" the woman spoke, unsure.
You had kept your gaze on her, and she finally looked back at you. She had so many questions, you were a mystery to her.
"You can call me Silla" you smiled.
The woman's brows knitted, and she looked away.
"And what is your story, Silla?"
You took a deep breath, pondering over what you wanted to tell her, more like what you could tell her. Although, if she was who you thought she was, she already knew you.
"I go to saloons often, my job is very draining. I'm not very personable, I have my reasons. I live to protect people, it is my duty."
The woman pondered, that didn't tell her much about you, but still, she was incredibly grateful. She looked you up and down, an unreadable expression on her face.
"What is your job, if I may ask?"
You chuckled as you looked down at the ground, "If I told you, I'd have to kill you."
The woman's face fell at your words, and you couldn't help but laugh.
You continued, "May I ask why you were at the saloon alone?"
You watched the woman's lips perse, before she looked down at her lap.
"I was with my brother. We were talking about…well, something that he doesn't approve of nor want to deal with. So, he left."
Your eyebrows knit together. Something he didn't approve of? That sounded like Edward.
"I see" you said quietly.
You took in the woman's face as she was silent. Her face was long with high cheekbones, she had a high hair line, and she was white as a ghost with a scar on her upper lip. Her hair was darker than the night, she was truly beautiful. You could say that she was magnetic.
You smiled, it was funny really, how you had reunited with a long lost friend in such a way.
The woman caught you staring at her and straightened up in her seat, "What?" she asked.
You smiled wider, "I missed you, Jane."
 Jane looked at you like you had two heads, she was so utterly confused. Had you been stalking her? Why would you know her and she not know you?
In her defence, you looked a lot different than you used to. Your hair was light when you were younger, but it had darkened over time. Your build was much more defined than it used to be, and you were way more tired looking than you were at one point.
Jane stuttered, surprised, "You- you know my name?"
You chuckled, "I do. We were such good friends when we were children."
Jane tilted her head at you, eyebrows knitted together.
"Drusilla Hartman" was all that you offered.
You watched as Jane's mouth opened and eyebrows raised slowly, her eyes scanning your face.
"Drusilla?" she said in question, hardly believing that it was really you.
When you were children, you two lived next door to each other. You used to play in the gardens and with the animals everyday, you used to be very close. Jane was always bossy, dominant, and kept most things to herself, but she was a great listener, and you had a better connection with her than anyone else you had ever met. One day, your parents decided to move suddenly, never telling you why. You had a hunch that it had something to do with you, but you never knew what.
You smiled, "Yes Jane, it's me."
Jane licked her lips in thought as she looked deep into your green eyes, yes, yes, it was you. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her. You startled at the contact, but didn't hesitate to embrace her.
"Oh, in such a horrible way we had to reunite" she mumbled.
You took a deep breath, "No worries Jane, I'm just happy that you're safe."
She pulled back and smiled at you, still holding on to your arms.
"Jane" you heard a man call out, and your hand flew down to pull your knife out again.
"Jane Murdstone" a man yelled, and Jane whipped around to find her brother.
"Edward" she said in a shocked tone.
"Jane, I was searching for you. Why are you out here?" he asked in a controlling manner.
She took a deep breath, "I grew tired of the saloon, so I came out for some air."
Edward didn't say anything, then he glanced over at you and back to Jane.
"I'm retiring for the night, do you wish to come?" Jane looked at you, then back at him.
"I will be home shortly, brother." Edward nodded before looking at you again.
"What are you doing out here with her?" he asked, gesturing to you.
"I'm just reuniting with an old friend Edward. You must remember Drusilla" she smiled.
He looked you up and down before nodding.
"Yes, how do you do Drusilla?"
You offered him a small smile, "Very good Edward, and you?"
Edward nodded, "Very well, thank you."
He then turned to leave, but not before telling Jane he would be expecting her soon.
Jane was quiet after Edward left. You watched as she stared up at the stars, biting her lower lip, a worried look on her face.
"What has you upset, Jane?" you asked quietly and reluctantly, not wanting to pry.
She looked over at you, "I'm worried that my brother thinks ill of me" she frowned.
"I confessed something to him recently, and he hasn't taken it well."
Your eyebrows furrowed, "I'm sorry, Jane."
She smiled timidly, seemingly wanting to tell you more. Everything inside of her was screaming for her to keep her secret, but she knew that you must have found it odd how her brother was so concerned about you sitting with her. Her eyes told you that she wanted to tell you more, they were fearful, but in a different way than they were in the saloon. You smiled at her warmly. Jane opened her mouth, and then closed it again.
You took her hand in yours and whispered, "It's alright Jane, you're alright."
A silent moment went by and you watched as a tear ran down her cheek, before she wiped the evidence away. You knew that this wasn't the Jane that you used to know and love. Yet, she was still Jane, and you still loved her.
She wouldn't look at you as she spoke.
"Drusilla, I- I do not enjoy the company of men" she confessed almost in a whisper.
You tilted your head, you didn't either, but what did she mean by that?
"Yes, I don't enjoy their company either" you chuckled.
She shook her head, "No, I mean, I am not attracted to men Drusilla, I am attracted to women."
Your breath picked up as your eyes went wide and you stared up at her, blinking a few times. You couldn't believe what she had just confessed. She was, the same as you? Jane looked at you before she turned her head quickly, sighing and beginning to stand. You pulled at the sleeve of her dress lightly, hoping she would stay seated. She did, and you cupped her cheek.
"Jane, that's amazing. I'm so happy for you" you smiled, then you pulled her into a tight hug.
You could tell that Jane was conflicted as you hugged her, yet she hugged you back.
"It is?" she mumbled into your hair.
 "Of course it is!" you beamed at her.
You took a deep breath, it was time to confess to someone besides your one past love. Otherwise, you were scared you'd be alone forever.
"Can I tell you something, Jane?"
Jane pulled back and gave you her full attention, nodding her head.
"I am attracted to woman as well, but I've only told one person before." 
Jane's mouth dropped open as she looked at you in shock.
"You are?"
You nodded your head, but didn't offer anything more. Her lip quivered as she stared at you, nobody had ever confessed something so personal, something so deep and meaningful to her. Nobody she knew felt the exact same as she did.
"Oh Silla" she whispered, pulling you into her. "I'm so glad that I have you again."
You smiled into her shoulder, you were so happy to have her back. You pressed a kiss to her cheek without thinking, and she pulled away slowly to look at you. Your eyes met hers, and they reminded you of galaxies, the brightest ones you'd ever see. They were all consuming, all knowing, they screamed at you to understand. Alas, deep inside, Jane was a mystery.
Her eyes panned down to your lips, and you looked down at hers. She looked so soft, so pleasing, she looked delicious. Without realizing it, your face inched closer to Janes and you bumped noses. You let out a small gasp as you looked back up to her eyes, but she wasn't phased. Her hand moved to the back of your head to hold you close, and for the first time in a long time, you could say that you were scared.
"Jane?" you whispered, your breath warm against her face.
"Yes, Silla?" she whispered back.
You smiled, "You're beautiful, you always were."
Jane's breath hitched and you felt her pull your face towards hers. She pressed her lips to yours needily yet sweetly, a kiss of longing. You melted into her touch, you were right, she was delicious. You brought your hands to her face and kissed her back giddily. You wondered if this was what heaven felt like.
Suddenly, you were overcome with anger over the earlier situation at the saloon. How dare that man touch her, how dare he kiss her. He didn't deserve her for one second, he didn't deserve to feel this good. You pulled away from Jane, eyes going wide.
"Jane, it's not safe for us out here" you breathed heavily.
Jane came back to reality fast, "Right, you're right."
You reluctantly dropped your hands from her face, missing her touch instantly. You looked down at your lap, you wondered if she would want to stay with you for the night.
You looked up at her as she spoke, "I don't want to leave you so soon" she said with a frown.
You blushed, "I would love to catch up with you. Would you like to stay with me tonight, Jane?"
She hesitated, pondering over what she would tell her brother. A small grin soon formed on her face, screw it, of course she would.
"I would love to, Silla."
You unlocked the door to your small house and gestured for Jane to enter. You walked to the kitchen to tidy up quickly and pour yourself a drink, Jane followed.
"Would you like a drink, Jane?" you smiled up at the tall woman.
She smiled back, "That would be lovely."
You handed her a full glass as you made your way to the back of your house, hoping that you both could sit outside and enjoy the warm night. As Jane followed behind you, you heard her footsteps stop. You knew that she had stopped at the open room just next to your kitchen.
"What's this?" she asked, peering into the room.
You turned abruptly and closed the door, locking it and placing the key in your pocket. "Just…collectables" you mumbled, turning away and walking again, hoping that she would follow you.
Yes, you had a room full of collected knives and weapons and what not, it was part of your job, but that didn't mean that anyone had to know about that room. Nobody could know about that room. Your boss had taken you on even though you were a woman. Obviously, women were not allowed to do most jobs, especially highly skilled ones like yours. However, your boss thought that having you on his team was stealthy, an advantage, as nobody would ever expect a woman assassin, and he was right.
You opened the door to your balcony and sat down at a small iron table with chairs. You looked at Jane and smiled, hoping that she couldn't see the nervousness on your face. She sat across from you and looked out into the darkness. You wished that it was daylight so that she could see the beautiful flowers and pond that you were overlooking, you remembered how much she loved nature.
"So, how have the years treated you Jane?"
You thought that they had treated her quite well, considering she was still as ethereal as always, perhaps a bit more broken down.
She looked at you, "Quite well, I must say."
You studied her expression the best you could through the limited candlelight, and you knew that something had taken a toll on poor Jane.
You smiled sadly, "I suppose keeping a secret like that takes a lot out of a person."
Jane chuckled and nodded her head, "Yes, I suppose it did take a lot out of me."
You took a sip of your drink as she smiled sadly back at you.
"I never knew why you left, Silla" she stated quietly.
You looked down into your drink and shook your head, "I never knew why I left either, Jane."
A frown formed on her face, "I see."
You didn't know what to say to Jane, you had thought about her and missed her for so many years. The past few years you had thought about her less and less, but you still missed her more than anyone. You missed her comfort and her sternness, her caring demeanour and her protectiveness. You looked up at the sky and caught site of a shooting star, slowly making it's way across the sky. You reached over and grasped her hand, getting her attention.
"Jane look, it’s a shooting star! Make a wish!" you exclaimed.
Jane chuckled at you as she looked up at the star, and you watched as she closed her eyes. You closed yours as well, wishing for Jane to never leave you again, and for you to never leave her. You opened your eyes and smiled at her as you waited for blue eyes to meet yours. Part of you wanted to hold it all in, to not tell her how you felt, to not let her know that you missed her as much as you did. Another part of you was so, so happy to have her again, to have the old Jane that you knew and loved, to have someone who knew you, who loved you.
You were staring at Jane, and when she opened her eyes she looked right at you.
A smile slowly lit up her face and she chuckled at your wide grin, "What?"
You blushed, "Did you make a wish?"
Jane squeezed your hand lightly and nodded in confirmation.
You let go of her hand and placed your drink on the table. You took two strides over to her and kneeled before her. You brought your hands up to her black bonnet, untied the bow, and placed it on the table. You gently ran your hands over her silky raven hair. You looked up into her eyes and stroked your thumbs carefully over her cheeks, pulling her slightly towards you.
"I really missed you Jane. As pathetic as it sounds, I have never had anyone who I was as comfortable and free with after you, after we parted."
Despite the fact that your confession was quite sad, and the way that you and Jane had reunited was quite horrible, you were still smiling ear to ear, so content and giddy to be staring at Jane's gorgeous face. Jane brought her hands up to caress your cheeks as she averted her gaze to you kneeling on the floor.
She whispered, "I haven't either, Drusilla."
Your smile fell at her confession. It seemed that she was ashamed of that fact, when you were so happy to finally have her back. Perhaps she didn't feel the same way that you did, and you didn't know what to say. Jane looked back down at you as your smile fell.
Her eyebrows furrowed, "What's wrong, Silla?"
As you locked eyes with her again you found innocence, confusion, guilt, and maybe, longing?
"I um- I " you stumbled over your words as you started to pull away from Jane, but she kept her grip on your face, keeping you close to her. She pulled you even closer, her eyes scanning your face for answers. You didn't know if she'd find any, but you took the time to memorize her features. Your gaze ran over her hooded eyes, her thin eyebrows, her defined nose, her small chin, her plump lips, her -"I was there when you got that scar" you whispered.
Your eyes shot up to Jane's, you hadn't meant to say that aloud.
She smiled sincerely, "Yes, yes you were."
Many of your classmates picked on you. You were shorter than them, and a little bit chubby. You were quiet, and you loved talking to the plants and flowers. You also talked to the bugs and animals, and you often built them little houses out of sticks, leaves, rocks, and dirt. You and Jane had met at school, before you even knew that you were neighbours. Jane also had a love for plants, but your quiet, shy, demeanour was the opposite of hers. Somehow, she had taken a liking to you, and she took you, the 'weird girl', under her wing. Of course, Jane was bullied too. When you both got a little bit older, you had learned to stand up and fight back for her, like she did for you. You knew that Jane could fight for herself, but she didn't care very much when kids bullied her, she only cared when they bullied you. Edward was one of those kids who bullied you. Of course, him and Jane made fun of each other, but they were siblings, it was different. One day, you were in Jane's backyard, building a 'house' for the bugs and frogs that were around. You and Jane were a bit older at this point, but you both still loved nature, you loved spending time with the creatures. Jane was planting some flowers in the yard, when Edward walked up behind you. "Why are you playing with bugs, that's gross" he scoffed. You were crouched down and you turned to face him, holding a frog in your hands. "It's not gross, they're sweet, see?" you smiled, holding the frog out to him. "Get that away from me!" he spat, swatting at your hands and making you drop the frog on the ground. You gasped and looked down at the frog as it laid there, not moving. You poked at it gently, hoping it would get up and hop away. When it didn't move, tears filled your eyes and you let out a whimper. "No! Are you okay froggy? Please get up" you sniffled. You tried to stand it up so that it was on it's feet, but it just fell back down. Tears landed onto the ground as you stared at it, and Edward let out a menacing laugh. "It's just a stupid frog. Why are you crying, freak." Jane had heard you crying and had heard Edward calling you a freak. "Edward!" she hollered, standing from the garden and taking long strides towards him. "What did you do?" she asked angrily, looking down at you who was still poking at the frog. "It's just a frog, Jane" he defended himself. You had turned your focus towards them fighting, and watched Jane seethe in anger. She looked at you, "What happened, Dru?" You wiped tears away from your eyes as you spoke quietly, "I held the frog out to him and he swatted at it, knocking it out of my hands. Now it's not moving!" you cried. Jane turned back to Edward, pointing her dirt covered hand at him, "Don't you ever call her a freak you wimp. And don't ever touch her or her frogs!" Edward laughed at Jane, he rolled his eyes at her and mocked her. You turned back to the frog as you started to dig a hole in the dirt for it to lay. You heard Jane and Edward fighting behind you, but you continued to dig through your tears. A few moments later, you heard Jane scream. You quickly stood and faced her, finding her top lip cut open. She was bleeding profusely, staring Edward down with hatred. It turned out that Edward was messing with knives that his father had given him, and he was carelessly swinging them around. When Jane got mad at him, he took one out and 'threatened' her, but she knew that he wouldn't hurt her on purpose. Still, she got too close to him, and he sliced her lip by accident. Jane was in shock and just stood there, holding her lip in pain. Edward didn’t look like he had any mercy, as he stood there with a smirk on his face, not saying a thing. You lashed out at him and pushed him to the ground, ripping the knife out of his hand and throwing it into the woods.
You brought your thumb down to trace over her lip scar, carefully feeling the texture of her skin. She was so warm, so delicate, and you wanted to feel her lips against yours again, you needed to feel her lips again. Your gaze met hers and you saw her blush as her eyes suddenly averted yours, like she had been caught in an act. You giggled and placed a kiss on her nose, making her smile wider. You noticed that she actually supressed a giggle. Perhaps she did feel the same as you, and you decided to take the chance this time. You brought a hand up and tangled it in her hair. You ran your thumb over her bottom lip as you licked at your lips, and you heard Jane gasp quietly. You brought your lips as close as you could to hers without touching, and you waited to see if she would pull away. When she didn't, you let out a breath and smiled, softly pressing your lips to hers. Jane kissed you back immediately, bringing her hands to your neck and holding you close. You kissed her passionately, slowly, kissing her had been long overdue. You forced your tongue into Jane's mouth and she let out a whimper, which turned you on even more. It was so heartwarming to see Jane's walls knocked down, her stern guard dropped for a bit. You were honoured to be able to see her sweet side, to feel her give in. You had to sit up on your knees to reach her, but you brought your hands up to Jane's hair and started to undo the pins. You let her long hair fall down as you brought your lips to her neck, kissing up from what skin her dress wasn't hiding. You nipped at her neck, giving kitten licks and eliciting moans from Jane. It sounded like she was trying to hold them back, but you wanted her to be loud.
"Jane, dearest" you breathed, moving to bite and kiss at her pulse point.
"S-silla" she whimpered, as you brought your lips back to hers. Jane pulled you up from your kneeling position and sat you on her lap so that you were straddling her. She brought her hands to your waist as you continued to kiss, and you ground your hips down into hers. You weren't exactly sure how far Jane wanted to go tonight, but you would stop if she opposed to anything. You pulled away and pressed your forehead to hers, her lips were swollen and parted as she looked up at you. You figured that Jane was tired of being the stern one, the one in charge, the one who made decisions, the one who acted like she was always fine. You wanted her to relax, to feel cared about, so you took a deep breath in. Breathing heavily, you spoke, "Jane, I would like to take care of you tonight, if you want that, of course." She narrowed her eyes in confusion before she understood what you meant. Her eyes went wide and she blushed, nodding her head shyly.
"I would love that, Drusilla" she smiled.
You stood and held your hand out for Janes. When she took it, you walked her inside to your bedroom.
You searched through your clothes, hoping you would have a nightgown to fit Jane. You pulled out a black one and prayed that it was long enough.
"This may fit you Jane" you smiled as you handed it to her.
She smirked and raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean 'may' fit me?"
Your smile dropped and you stumbled, "You are, uh, you are much taller than me" you blushed.
Jane chuckled and placed a hand on your shoulder, leaning down to your ear.
"Perhaps it would be easier to sleep sans clothing" she whispered seductively.
Your jaw dropped as you looked up at her, before a sly grin spread across your face.
You shrugged your shoulders and winked, "Whatever tickles your fancy."
Jane turned and walked to your bed. She placed the nightgown down and began to undo the buttons on her dress. You knew that Jane would have a lady's maid, and you watched her struggle to reach behind herself. You walked over to her and calmly moved her hands away from the buttons.
"May I?" you asked innocently.
Jane didn't look back at you, but you saw her smile before she nodded, "Please."
You unbuttoned her dress and helped Jane take it off, then she turned to face you. She slowly unbuttoned her white collar shirt and untied her petticoat. She blushed as you gazed up and down her form, then you moved behind her again. You brought your hands to her shoulders, lightly trailing them down her arms. When you reached her waist, you began to untie and remove her corset.
"How do you feel Jane? Are you alright?"
You didn't give her any context, but she knew what you were referring to.
She sighed, "Yes, I'm fine. I'm relieved now that I'm with you Silla, and not stuck in the grasp of that slimy man." You couldn't help but chuckle at her tone, full of detest.
Once Jane was stripped down to her chemise and drawers, she sat on your bed. You were too busy staring at her breasts through her chemise, and the tempting pale skin of her long neck to notice that she had picked up the nightgown. You wasted no time as you straddled Jane's thighs and began gently kissing up her arm, to her shoulder and her collarbone. Jane let out contempt hums as you tucked her dark hair behind her ear and nipped at her earlobe, and she let the nightgown fall as she brought her hands to your hips, pulling you closer to hers. Suddenly, you felt a heat of dominance take over you, as you had asked Jane earlier if you could take care of her. You wanted nothing more than to take care of her right now. You got off of her lap and pulled her to stand. You sat on the bed and gripped her hips, pulling her to straddle you this time. She gasped as she basically fell onto your lap, and you smirked when you realized that your eye site was in line with her chest. You ran a hand through her long wavy hair to the back of her head. You grabbed a handful and pulled lightly to expose her neck to you. Jane let out a whimper as this, and you kitten licked up her neck to underneath her jaw as she began to rut her hips against yours.
"May I remove your chemise, Jane?" you purred into her ear.
She let out a hum and breathily replied "Please, Drusilla."
You brought your hands down to lift the bottom of her chemise and your eyes settled on her wet center. You could see her black hair and wet shine due to the crotchless drawers, and more heat travelled through you as you were overcome with the need to feel her against your skin. You almost drooled as you tried to focus on the task at hand. You pulled her chemise off and threw it to the side, bringing your lips to her right nipple and licking. Her breasts were on the smaller side, which was perfect to you. They were velvet in your mouth, and you moaned as Jane brought her hands up to grasp your neck and pull you into her chest further. She arched her back and ground down into your hips harder, and you closed your eyes as you sucked at her breast. You moved to her other breast to nip at her lightly, and you looked up to her face to see her eyes closed and her lips parted, chest rising and falling heavily. You tugged at her nipple and she gasped, "Silla, do that again" she pleaded.
You grazed your teeth over the sensitive spot as she shivered, and you began to kiss down her sternum and stomach, as if you had no way to oppose the gravity that was pulling you closer to her core. Jane's hands landed on your shoulders as she leaned back to allow you to trail lower. You moved down her body, your face close to her center. You looked up at Jane with pleading eyes, and she nodded briskly, pushing your head down. You smiled and stuck your tongue out, swiping it up her folds. You settled at her clit, sucking and licking for a minute as you listened to Jane whimper above you.
You brought your lips to Jane's and purred "You taste divine, my dear."
You then swiftly grasped Jane's ass and picked her up. She gasped as you stood and wrapped her legs around your middle. Jane giggled as you walked and placed her on your bed, and your heart swelled at the sound. You hastily removed your dress, taking your knife out of the secret pocket and flipping it up into the air, catching it. You heard Jane gasp from the bed and you looked down at her. She was wide eyed, staring at you in amusement. You thought you had made her nervous and red overtook your face.
"Sorry Jane, it's a habit" you chuckled. You placed the knife down on your bedside table and removed your clothes, down to your corset and undergarments, which you left on. You slid in behind Jane and let her head fall back onto your shoulder. You took her chin in your hand and turned her face to you as you captured her lips in a deep kiss. You swiped your tongue across her lips and she allowed you to enter her mouth. Jane moaned as your hand caressed her cheek, and it spurred you on to kiss her more fierce fully. You pulled away panting, letting your forehead rest against hers.
"Can I remove your drawers Jane?" you asked, hand reaching down to the waist band.
Jane nodded before helping you remove them. You pulled Jane closer so that her back was pressed against your front, and slowly trailed your hand down her creamy curves before letting it rest on the inside of her thigh. Jane parted her legs willingly and you chuckled, bringing your other hand up to squeeze at her breast.
You buried your head in her neck and cooed, "Is this alright with you darling?"
You heard Jane suck in a breath and then breath out a yes. You wrapped your legs around hers, holding them open as you swiped a finger through her folds. You brought your finger to your mouth and sucked on it, looking Jane in the eyes as you did.
You groaned, "You're so wet Jane, god you taste so good."
Jane moaned at your words and grabbed your face, smashing her lips to yours again. As your tongues slid against each other, you brought your fingers down to her center and rubbed at her clit lightly. Jane breathed heavily into your mouth as she began to squirm beneath you. As you picked up the pace, Jane parted from you and began to let out loud whimpers.
"S-silla" she moaned, and you couldn't help but tease her.
"Yes beautiful? What do you need?" you asked as you kissed behind her ear. Jane was silent besides the sound of her moans, and you figured that she wasn't used to not being the one in charge.
You slowed your pace, "Jane, are you okay with this dynamic?"
She turned to look at you, her eyes glossed over. "Yes" she whispered.
"I want you to relax and give in Jane, I just want to make you happy. How does that sound?" you asked with a smile.
Jane nodded reassuringly and grinned, "I want this, please" she whimpered. You picked up your pace on her bundle of nerves and watched as she closed her eyes and threw her head back onto your shoulder again. Jane stared letting her moans and whimpers become louder and you could feel your own wetness dripping onto your bed.
"Silla, please, I need more" Jane moaned, and you wasted no time in sliding two fingers into her. She groaned as you filled her up and you immediately set a steady pace. Soon you were curling your fingers inside of her and her legs were trembling under yours. You forced her legs to stay open and brought your lips to her ear. "What a gorgeous girl, such a good girl submitting" you purred.
"You feel so good around my fingers love, do you like that?"
"Yes, oh yes Silla!" Jane cried out as you brought her closer to the edge. You kissed her shoulder as you pulled at her nipples, and Jane didn't hold back.
"Please can I cum? God-please Silla!"
You smiled and picked up your pace, "Cum for me beautiful" you breathed into her hair. Jane's mouth opened and she scrunched her eyes shut as she screamed your name. Her legs shook and you kissed her shoulder to help her relax, then you pressed gentle kisses to her head.
Your own desire was too much to bare, so you quickly slipped out from behind Jane and rid yourself of your corset and undergarments. Jane eyed you up and down before she crawled towards you and sat on the edge of the bed. She pulled you into her by your hips and began to massage your ass with her hands. She kissed your stomach softly and you moaned. She reached a hand up and pulled you down to her by your neck.
She whispered in your ear, "You are gorgeous my darling, I need to feel you writhing beneath me." Your eyes went wide. As hot as it was, you didn't like Jane trying to turn the tables here. You grasped her thighs which squished under your touch and pulled her up to you. She wrapped her legs around you and squealed. It seemed she like to be manhandled, or perhaps she wasn't used to being the one that was carried, due to her stature.
"Do you like being handled baby?" you cooed, squeezing at her thighs harder. Jane blushed and wrapped her hands around your neck, her forehead meeting yours.
"Yes! You're so strong Drusilla, goodness you’re so enticing" she breathed.
You captured her lips with yours again, leading her to grind against your stomach. She moaned into the kiss and you felt her slick smear across your skin. You groaned and plopped her down into the bed again, more aggressive this time. You climbed on top of Jane and pried her legs open, placing one of your legs under hers and the other over hers. You lined your wet center up with hers and you let out a loud moan when you felt her heat. You bent over to kiss her neck as you rutted against her.
"Shit Jane, you feel so good against me! You are divine my dear" you whimpered. Jane let out a quiet cry into your ear and dug her nails into your back.
"Drusilla, that was so hot- when you threatened that man. Shit!" Jane breathed between moans.
"He's a wimp Jane…he doesn't deserve you, love" you panted. You pressed yourself closer to her, you needed more friction.
"You're so attractive when you protect me Silla, Oh!"
Jane moaned and her mouth dropped open. You took the opportunity to stick your tongue into her mouth. She whimpered against you and you grinded into her faster.
"Fuck him!" you gritted, holding back a cry.
Jane closed her eyes and screamed, "Fuck me!"
You hid your face in her neck, groaning as you felt your release approaching. You gripped Jane's delicious hips tightly, and her moans became more unhinged. Your pace got sloppier as you whimpered, but you wanted her to come first.
"Cum for me Jane!" you cried, and Jane threw her head back as she tightened her grip on you.
"Ugh, shit!" you muffled your cries into her shoulder. Her body twitched as her wetness dripped onto you and down your legs, and you followed right after. As the both of you laid there breathing heavily, you nuzzled your face into her black hair. Jane smelled of fresh linen, your favorite, and of floral scent and old books. You smiled, she was and would always be the only comfort, the best comfort, that you needed. You crawled off of her and rested beside her as you pulled her close. Jane smiled as you met her captivating eyes, she looked so content, she looked so pure.
"Thank you for taking care of me tonight Drusilla. In more ways than one" she giggled.
You smiled and kissed her cheek, "Taking care of you is my pleasure, literally" you chuckled.
Jane's hand caressed your cheek and she pulled you in for a sweet kiss.
"You were always mysterious, Dru" she smiled shyly.
Your heart swelled at the nickname that Jane had called you when you were younger.
Then your eyebrows furrowed, "Me? I always thought that you were the mystery."
Jane looked away, grinning. "Well, you’re the one with the knife collection."
Shit. Jane saw the worry on your face and giggled, "Don't worry my sweet, your secret is safe with me."
After a long silence between you and Jane, she rested her forehead against yours.
"Sweetling?" she asked timidly.
"Yes Janey?" you breathed.
She paused, "What did you wish for, on the star?"
You smiled as you blushed, and averted your gaze from Jane.
"I um, I wished for us to never live without one another again. I wished for us to never be separated, like we did when we were younger."
Jane's face became even softer and she pouted, she looked adorable. You were so sweet. When you were younger, Jane appreciated having you around to keep herself levelled out and sane. She always felt safe around you, she always felt like she was being pulled towards you by some force. She slowly brought her lips to yours and kissed you gently again, and you thought that you felt her eyelashes wet. She didn't open her eyes as whispered against your lips, "I wished for us, Drusilla. I wished for you." You pressed your lips to Jane's cheeks as you smiled, you couldn't believe that you had Jane back. She had been your person, and you left, but something had brought you two back together. She was yours then, and she was yours now, as if a force brought her back to you and you to her. You brought your hand up and ran your fingers through her hair, scratching at her scalp.
"I adore you, Jane Murdstone."
Jane's eyes fluttered open to find only truth and sincerity in your eyes, and she asked the question that had been bothering her all night.
"How did you recognize me Drusilla? I didn't recognize you. How did you know who I was?" her face twisted in confusion and shame as she trailed off. You chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"I'd know you anywhere, Jane. You're truly magnetic."
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oldshrewsburyian · 9 months
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what classic romances do you think measure up to harriet and peter in gaudy night? i’m really craving more satisfying classic romance
Well, kind inquirer, I have a confession. I had read the Wimsey novels multiple times by the age of 16. Over the past 2+ decades, Peter and Harriet have taught me a lot of things, even if I have learned them more slowly and painfully than I would like (Lord, teach us to take our hearts and look them in the face...); even if I feel as though I have not salvaged as much as I could from life's various shipwrecks. The point is: no one measures up, not for me. My dear, if you have let me come as far as your work and your life... That said, I can offer some suggestions, presuming that you mean by "classic romance" romance that happens outside the genre parameters of romance novels. I'll start with the most classic and work my way forwards. [Under the cut for length!]
Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë (for obvious reasons, I imagine. Perhaps the thing I love most in romance is two intense weirdos deciding to love each other intensely and weirdly.)
Much Ado About Nothing, Shakespeare (I know I said I'd work my way forward, but then I said 'intense weirdos' and remembered my beloved Benedick and Beatrice. Beatrice, an unmarried woman in her uncle's household, interrupts men's political conversation to demand to know whether he's alive because she can't stand not knowing for a minute longer... and that's her opening line! and then they roast each other for 2 hours! I love them so much!)
Persuasion, Jane Austen (Anne is, I would argue, quietly intense, while Frederick is obviously so; he's also weird enough for both of them (affectionate.) I adore them, I support them, I wish them many decades of shocking society with how they look at each other across rooms. And dinner tables. And pianos. And dancing squares.)
Artists in Crime/Death in a White Tie, Ngaio Marsh (this is the Alleyn/Troy duology the way that Strong Poison/Have His Carcase/Gaudy Night is the Peter/Harriet trilogy. I adore Troy, an anxious and compassionate artist with gnc tendencies, and Alleyn fascinates me. Intense weirdos again. Alleyn successfully pretends to be normal most of the time, with everyone except about 3 people. Occasionally he decides to stop, or just does because he's very tired and fed up, and then everyone in the room gets very freaked out very quickly. I love him.)
The Case of William Smith, Patricia Wentworth (bonus detective round! Wentworth is not in the Sayers-Marsh class, and this novel has some tropes I don't like, but I love the gentleness of the central romance so much that I still reread it.)
Possession, A.S. Byatt (Victorian poets, the scholars who study them, the life of the mind and the life of the heart. This is absolutely a novel with Gaudy Night in its lineage.)
The French Lieutenant's Woman, John Fowles (I hesitated before adding this to the list, but it's a novel of ideas that is also about love and sex and identity and Englishness with a very vivid setting, so it might fit the bill?)
The English Patient, Michael Ondaatje ('I believe this. When we meet those we fall in love with, there is an aspect of our spirit that is historian, a bit of a pedant, who imagines or remembers a meeting when the other had passed by innocently...')
Charlotte Gray, Sebastian Faulks (Birdsong is the greater novel, but this one might be the one I prefer. I love Charlotte and her quest to find herself that is also a journey toward love! and vocation! and the images for the lovers in this book are indelible)
Bonus round of books I looked at on my shelf and decided were about so many things that the romance might not be central enough: The Children's Book, Love in the Time of Cholera, The Remains of the Day, The Portrait of a Lady, War and Peace, Brideshead Revisited.
Bonus bonus round, not a book: Random Harvest. Yes it is a book, but in the novel, the romance which truly is emotionally anchoring (I would argue) is much more peripheral than it is in the film, which was, like the Wimsey novels, formative for me. Also, look at them:
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I have not been normal about the way he looks at her for *checks notes* 25 years. And I hope you find some things to enjoy here!
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solo-by-choice · 3 months
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alright, so would my fave survive castle Dracula? For the sake of @canyourfavesurvivecastledracula I'm doing Josh Lyman from The West Wing myself. Although I've only seen the show once and am not super... sure of my ability to remember enough minutiae to do this but I'm trying anywayyy
uh, no. He'd die. lol.
He wouldn't take the crucifix. He's not a superstitious person for the most part so I think he'd just find everyone freaking out about him going to the castle to be ridiculous. He's also Jewish. If he did take the crucifix, it would be to get the lady to stop bothering him and then he certainly wouldn't wear it.
He is technically a lawyer. I guess. He doesn't practice law, though, and I don't think he ever has. I suppose he could, but you know what let's not get into this because then I'll start questioning what an American from the late 90s/early naughts is doing in this story... (If Josh were from 1897 I suppose he'd be from Europe in the first place, but not England, and I'm having trouble imagining Dracula going to all this trouble to move to idk Poland or whatever.)
anyway
So maybe Josh doesn't make it past the shaving scene.
If he does, I think he might be able to keep alive for a while. He's good at talking; he could keep Dracula entertained as a conversation partner. The biggest issue might be his documented inability to be civil with people he doesn't like. He might be better at faking it with someone who has a (metaphorical) gun to his head, but we have no data on that kind of situation.
I doubt he'd put up with Dracula's weird touchy-feely habits. I'm not sure what he'd do about it, but I just don't think he'd be as fun to toy with as poor Jonathan because he wouldn't have Victorian manners preventing him from calling Dracula's behavior out. Which of course means Dracula won't put up with him as long.
If anyone's expecting him home on time, it's Donna. And presumably his boss is either Leo or Bartlett. (Sorry I'm thinking too much about transposing the cast of west wing into Dracula rather than assuming everything is the same in Josh's life which I think is how you're supposed to do this. So whyy is the deputy white house chief of staff bringing real estate paperwork to a count in Romania? oh nvm) Unfortunately I'm betting none of these people know shorthand, so Josh can't try and send them secret messages.
I do think Donna would recognize any letter that wasn't written in Josh's voice, but what good would that do them?
Does Josh get eaten by the Girlies? I guess the real question is whether Dracula saves him. I don't think Dracula would find Josh as fun a plaything as he did Jonathan. By this point Josh has probably started loudly demanding to be allowed to leave, is climbing the walls in boredom in every way but literally and has read every English book Dracula owns and taught himself basic Romanian. Josh's no genius, but he's smart and has the energy level of a working dog. He needs enrichment! Anyway Dracula probably thinks he's really annoying and maybe he lets his roommates bite him.
Unfortunately for him, Vampire!Josh is also annoying. But if they could get past that, Josh could do a great job running Dracula's take-over of his new country. Wants to be the guy the guy relies on, after all. America won't know what's hit it.
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