#yay rural living
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so...
I decided to get veilguard anyway - I was too curious about where the story was going, the environments looked exceptionally pretty, the companions all sounded interesting, and I read there were cats and you could pet them. and there's a griffon. and you can pet him too?! what can I say, I'm easy to please.
here's my rook! i'm sure she will make many terrible decisions :D
and since it's new and I haven't run across any spoilers I told myself I would not look up the consequences to choices that make me nervous (like I did when I just recently played the other three). could be a fun time for my anxiety lmaooooo
I hauled myself and my laptop to a neighbor's house to steal (consensually!) internet in order to download the game. thankfully it doesn't seem to throw a fit if I don't have a constant connection once it's installed, so now I have two games to keep me occupied while I'm in shitty-internet-land for the rest of the week+...
so far I'm really enjoying the combat (esp. compared to the other three) - being able to seamlessly switch between bow and daggers is my favorite! the bow combat is no horizon but it feels nice enough.
I found the character creator great in some areas and super frustrating in others (why no eye shapes? lip shapes?), and I honestly... don't really like that many of the hair options. while there seems to be a good selection of styles for type 4 curly hair, there aren't many options that look like type 2/3? :/ kinda disappointing ngl. but being able to change the lighting was amazing. why couldn't we do it when we made the inquisitor?
I am glad I could make rook short. she's only slightly taller than harding :D
#the internet went out like six separate times while i was trying to type this. stays connected for like half a minute and then disappears#yay rural living#(i'm house/petsitting rn and thankfully my “real” job doesn't require constant internet. and my connection at home is way better)#anyway veilguard's photomode seems good but it's got a few quirks that drive me up the wall#and if i can't change poses i wish i could at least change rook's expression...#still i'm glad we get something - unlike the other three!#elle plays da#dragon age the veilguard
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forgive me my ignorance (<-not sarcastic, this really is an area i know very little about), but my perspective as a consumer (for car insurance specifically), is this: my big issue is that insurance is REQUIRED to register and drive a car (at least in all the states I've lived in) and driving a car is basically required to have and hold a job.
to be fair, the second thing is more of the problem, but notwithstanding major legislation to expand public transportation which has yet to materialize, the situation is that i have to be able to drive to make enough money to live in a home, and the car insurance company can basically name their price (notably this issue is part of what is so heinous about medical insurance also)
and to be fair to insurance companies, even if they were trying to be good and give the best possible prices to their customers, they are at the whims of the larger markets -- the prices on medical bills (ballooned by medical supply companies and pharma companies basically extorting them), the prices of car parts, the price of gasoline to transport those car parts, probably lots of other market stuff I don't know because like I said i do not know much about this. so there is a bunch of risk the insurance company has to take as well. it is in their interest to act like a company, a money-making entity.
notably, as a profit-seeking entity, they then also find themselves relying on statistics as per @cobrilee's tags, and relying on those kinds of statistics ends up reinforcing institutionalized prejudice. you want redlining? this is how you get redlining.
in the process of writing this post, i looked up the official reason why car insurance is mandatory in 48 out of 50 states. the given reason? public safety.
specifically the idea that if you are hit by a car at no fault of your own, that you should not be expected to pay your medical bills. and i basically agree! that is an assumption that seems fair to buy into as part of living together in a cooperative society. (i will note that who "you" is can really determine who gets to be "at fault" buuuuut we cannot disentangle all of society's prejudices in one go so moving on)
but you know what? if it's for public safety, why is it being handled by entities that are necessarily driven by profit?
the fact is that having and driving a car is basically a requirement to be a working (usamerican) adult, but that it is regulated like it is a luxury item and it is really frustrating. if insurance is mandatory for public safety, it should be a matter of public safety handled by the government. it should be unconcerned with profit!
and if the government had to start really shouldering those costs, i think they might just see that public transportation is much cheaper, more efficient, and all around better than the 1 Car Per USAmerican (Mandatory) system we currently have. and we could have a competent public transportation system. and i would cry tears of joy.
The most frustrating part of working in insurance is knowing why people's insurance premiums are increasing so dramatically but not being able to explain it without sounding like you're defending a bunch of giant megacorporations
#but then again the car corporations (+ associated) have had a full century to build up lobbying money so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i wouldn't hold my breath#k.txt#also i am VERY aware than there are people in poverty who are working adults without cars--#they suffer greatly for it!! to the point of it being on par with homelessness!!#in fact ppl will have to choose between housing costs vs car costs & become homeless while living in the car bc it's THAT MUCH OF A BARRIER#anyway i have NO idea how any of this goes for homeowners insurance (insert *housing crisis* gif here) & only minimal knowledge for medical#so this may be very insular to car insurance specifically#but i expect that the conflict between ''public necessity'' and ''provided by profit-seeking entity ONLY'' is seen in both those areas too#this kind of reminds of the whole fight to make wifi a utility (which is should be treated as!!! esp for rural areas!!)#also i focused on the bigger picture here but in a smaller picture way as well#i drive a shitbox car that is not worth the insurance i am forced to pay on it and it drives me CRAZY#and i don't blame the insurance company for not wanting to insure me for cheap-- my shitbox car is liable to breakdown anytime!#that makes me statistically prone to crashes! i get it!#but if they don't want to insure me. and i don't want them to insure me. why the fuck do i need insurance?#public safety? okay. make a public institution & take the costs out of my taxes! (take it out of the wealthy's taxes actually)#anyway sorry for writing so damn much it's a disease#OH YEAH also obligatory ''it's all capitalism''/''fuck capitalism'' but like. i wanted to break it down more#esp since ''fuck capitalism'' like ''it's reagan's fault'' have become memes/catchphrases instead of meaningful accusatory statements#AND. note that i said ''it should be nationalized'' AND ''it should be unconcerned with profit''.#both parts are important and w/o the latter it doesn't really matter if car insurance were to be nationalized#like. wow yay i can be fucked over by the us gov't instead of private corporations. my favorite.
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strawberry wine
[part 2] pairing: modern au!viktor x artist!reader prompt: “if somebody were to kiss me, i’d want that person to be you” tags: you're jayces childhood bff, no use of y/n, alcohol, heavy kissing, drunk kissing, basically just a bunch of buildup towards a smutty fwb part two???, viktor being a menace wc: 4k notes: AU where nobody is sick or dying yay! also i think i managed to keep this pretty gn!reader but any future parts will be afab/fem art is from pinterest, dividers from chachachannah & webc00re
You never meant for things to get this far. You told yourself it was just a little fun, harmless and fleeting—nothing more. You had a career to focus on, friendships in the balance. But now, here you are, pacing the living room carpet thin, your cuticles raw from nervous chewing, and your thoughts spiraling into places you swore they’d never go.
It feels juvenile, almost laughable, like some smitten teenager waiting by the phone and sneaking kisses in shadowed corners. You were supposed to be above this, weren’t you? I mean, as a grown adult you should know how to keep it casual, uncomplicated.
But nothing about this is simple anymore. Not the friendship. Not the secrets. And certainly not the way your heart betrays you every time his name crosses your mind.
It definitely wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Moving back to the city hadn’t been on the bingo card for this year, but here you were. Your life had been tucked away in the quiet of rural landscapes, where your art had room to breathe—endless skies, rolling hills, and the kind of solitude that made inspiration flow without any distractions. But your career had expanded, and with that expansion came the relentless pressure of galleries, art buyers, and a future that demanded more from you than that peaceful escape ever could.
So, the city had called you back. Concrete towers, crowded streets, the city offered more. Shows. Opportunities. Jayce. The only thing about this cold, steel jungle that still felt like home. Jayce—your childhood friend, your constant in a world that had never stopped changing. Thrown together since you were practically in diapers, he was the one piece of your old life that had somehow survived the years and distance between you two. And now, after what felt like an eternity, here he was, sprawled across your tiny couch, looking too comfortable for someone who was just supposed to be a guest. The apartment was a bit small, as city apartments tended to be—packed between towering neighbors—but Jayce’s presence was the only thing about it that felt remotely like home.
"You know," he said, half-lounging. “I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”
You didn’t look up from your canvas, your brush already dipping into the paints like second nature. “Who?”
“Viktor”
You paused, only long enough for your brush to hover midair before you flicked your gaze in his direction. “Ah, yes. The famous business partner.”
Jayce’s grin didn’t falter, but there was something softer behind it now. “Yeah, something like that. But seriously, he’s a good guy. Brilliant, actually. You two would get along.”
You didn’t reply at first. Instead, you let the brush finish its arc, eyes back on your work, moving with the rhythm of a familiar task. “mhm” you murmured, distracted by the way the strokes of paint were bleeding together. “If he’s anything like you, how bad can it be?”
But Jayce, of course, wasn’t done. His voice took on that soft tone he reserved for moments when he really wanted to get his point across. “I’m serious, okay? I want you two to meet. You both mean a lot to me, and I think you’ll really hit it off.”
You didn’t look up, but you felt a weight behind his words, pushing against you with silent pressure. “Yeah? I’m sure it’ll happen, then.”
Jayce’s eyes lit up, a flash of triumph in them, like he’d just won some small but important battle. “You’ll see. I’m telling you—when you meet him, you’ll click. I know it.”
You leaned back in your chair, releasing a slow exhale, the kind that said everything without saying anything at all. A nonchalant nod was all you offered, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of saying more. “Fine. Fine. I’ll meet him. But don’t make a whole thing out of it.”
Jayce chuckled, and there was an odd note of relief in the sound, like he’d just been granted some unspoken permission. “No big deal, I swear. But you’ll see. You two are more alike than you think.”
-
When you finally did meet Viktor, Jayce was practically vibrating, his energy as unsubtle as ever. It had been after one of your gallery openings, a night you’d half-dragged yourself through on fumes and politeness. Your heels had barely cleared the threshold of his apartment before the faintest twinge of suspicion began to creep in—something about the way he hovered, grinning like a man with a secret.
“You deserve a good meal after tonight,” Jayce had said, ushering you in with the kind of charm that usually preceded one of his schemes. “Thought you’d want to celebrate somewhere that doesn’t reek of overpriced wine and small talk.”
You rolled your eyes but let yourself be corralled, the promise of food outweighing the odd note in his voice. His large apartment, at least, was familiar territory: warm, cluttered with bits of tech and sentimental junk from years past, the faint scent of whatever candles he refused to admit he hoarded lingering in the air.
And then you heard it—the low murmur of another voice, sharp-edged and vaguely amused, drifting from the kitchen.
Jayce froze, his grin faltering for a split second before it reappeared, brighter than ever. “Oh, right,” he said, far too casually. “Viktor’s here.”
You blinked, narrowing your eyes at him. “You conveniently forgot to mention that part.”
“Come on,” he pushed, throwing an arm around your shoulders and steering you toward the source of the voice. “It’s no big deal. Just dinner. You’ll like him, I promise.”
And there he was, perched by the kitchen counter with a faintly perplexed look on his face. He was slimmer than you’d expected, pale and sharp-featured, with hair that looked like it hadn’t met a comb in days. His amber eyes flicked up to meet yours, narrowing slightly as if he were trying to solve a puzzle that had just been placed in front of him.
“Ah,” he said, his accent lilting and crisp, “so this is the infamous artist.”
You shot a glare at Jayce, who was already heading for the stove with the kind of forced cheer that made it painfully clear he’d orchestrated the whole thing. “You owe me for this,” you muttered under your breath, stepping further into the kitchen.
Viktor’s lips twitched, the barest hint of a smirk appearing. “And here I thought I was being ambushed. Seems we’re both victims of his enthusiasm.”
Jayce turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand, his expression utterly unrepentant. “You’ll thank me later.”
The dinner was simple but undeniably good—Jayce’s doing, of course. The man couldn’t let anyone step into his apartment without insisting they be properly fed, and tonight was no exception. Roast chicken, buttery vegetables with rice, warm bread that filled the space with its yeasty aroma—it was the kind of meal that made you feel at home even when you weren’t.
Conversation flowed easily around the table, mostly carried by Jayce, but Viktor wasn’t exactly quiet, either. He had a way of chiming in at just the right moment, his dry humor landing squarely between Jayce’s more exuberant anecdotes and your own occasional contributions.
“You mean to tell me,” Viktor said at one point, leaning back slightly in his chair, “that Jayce still hasn’t learned to cook rice without burning it? After all these years?”
Jayce, halfway through explaining some disastrous culinary attempt from his youth, turned to glare at him. “Excuse me, this rice was cooked perfectly.”
“It was fine,” you agreed, though the memory of a slightly crunchy bite or two made your lips twitch in amusement.
Viktor’s amber eyes sparkled as he gestured broadly. “Oh, fine! A glowing review, truly. Don’t let it go to your head.”
Jayce groaned, but there was no real bite to it. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” Viktor said, raising his glass in a mock toast, “here I am. Invited to dinner. Again.”
Jayce just rolled his eyes and went back to his story, leaving you to glance at Viktor with a small smile. He caught it, of course, and gave a little shrug as if to say, what can you do? For all his sharp humor, he was easy to talk to, his wit balanced by an underlying warmth that kept him from coming off as too cutting.
Which was why you were only mildly surprised when the spoon incident happened.
Dinner was winding down, Jayce had disappeared into the kitchen to fuss over coffee, leaving you and Viktor to handle the cleanup.
He moved with a surprising ease, balancing a stack of plates in one hand, his cane steady in the other. It was a casual sort of competence, as though he’d long since adapted to whatever limitations life had handed him. You hadn’t thought much of it, impressed by how naturally he maneuvered, until the soft clatter of a spoon hitting the floor broke the quiet rhythm of tidying.
“Ah,” Viktor said, glancing down at the rogue utensil with a faint frown as he set down the plate stack. “Of course.”
You paused mid-step, glancing between him and the spoon. “Need a hand?”
He tilted his head, his expression a little too innocent. “If it’s not too much trouble. You know, the leg and all...”
“Oh, for—” Jayce’s voice floated from the kitchen, half-annoyed but not quite committed to intervening.
You sighed, setting down the napkins you’d been folding. “Yeah, sure. I’ve got it.”
But just as you crouched down, Viktor shifted. A casual tap of his cane sent the spoon skittering across the floor, its metallic clink faintly echoing as it landed farther away.
You froze, staring at the spoon in disbelief, then turned your gaze to him slowly. “You’re kidding.”
Viktor’s lips twitched, the faintest glimmer of amusement flickering across his face. “What?”
“You just—”
“What?” he repeated, wider-eyed this time, his free hand gesturing vaguely toward his cane. “I’m handicapped.”
Jayce reappeared in the doorway, a coffee pot in hand and a look of pure exasperation on his face. “Viktor.”
“What?” Viktor said again, his voice laced with mock indignation. “I am!”
Jayce muttered something unintelligible as he poured coffee, his focus shifting between you and Viktor like he couldn’t decide which one of you deserved his scolding more. Meanwhile, you straightened, crossing your arms as a grin tugged at the corners of your mouth despite your best efforts.
“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you said, stepping across the room to retrieve the spoon—again.
“Very generous,” Viktor agreed, his tone breezy. “Honestly, it’s quite inspiring. Jayce, you should take notes.”
Jayce groaned, setting the coffee pot down with a little too much force. “You’re both ridiculous.”
But you were already laughing, the sound bubbling up before you could stop it. As you returned the spoon to the table with a pointed look, Viktor gave you a small, almost triumphant smile. And maybe, you could see what Jayce meant when he’d said you’d get along.
-
The first time you realized you might feel more than just friendship for Viktor was when you noticed the way your sketches had started to change.
It had been weeks—maybe even a couple of months—since that dinner with Jayce, when you had awkwardly danced around each other, getting to know one another. The initial weirdness had faded into easy companionship, and you found yourself spending more time with Viktor than you expected. You hadn’t quite noticed it happening, but somewhere along the line, you’d become an unintentional trio. Jayce had been bursting with barely-contained glee at how easily the two of you seemed to get along, and it made your chest warm, knowing how much that mattered to him. It felt... right, this newfound ease between the three of you, a quiet sort of harmony that made you smile more than you expected.
But as the days passed, something shifted without you realizing it. You were at home one evening, flipping through your sketchbook, the soft pastel dust smudging the edges of the pages as your fingers moved. The forms you’d drawn were abstract models, capturing shapes and shadows in a fluid, organic way. It wasn’t anything new—nothing that stood out. But then, you stopped.
There, in the shadows of the page, you saw it.
The subtle arch of a jawline. The curve of lips that you knew too well. Even the moles, small and almost unremarkable, but there they were—on the page, right beneath your fingertips. You blinked and flipped to another sketch, only to see it again. A line here, a shadow there. It wasn’t him exactly, but it was.
To the untrained eye, maybe it wouldn’t have been obvious. Hell, maybe even to you on any other day, it might’ve gone unnoticed. But now, in the quiet of your studio, the shapes were almost unmistakable. The soft angle of his nose, the way his eyes looked when he was thinking too hard, the way his smile would pull up on one side when he was being particularly smug.
You frowned, setting the sketchbook down, your hands hovering above it as if it had betrayed you. Was this some kind of coincidence? Or was it something more, something you had been avoiding realizing? You’d never consciously set out to draw him, but there he was, tucked into the lines and curves of your art like an uninvited guest you hadn’t known you were entertaining.
It was ridiculous, you told yourself. Of course it was just... coincidence. But even as you tried to convince yourself, there was a small, unspoken truth sitting in your chest, heavy and undeniable, and the first time you realized Viktor might see you as more than just a friend was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it hit you all the same.
He mentioned a piece you’d shown him, his tone thoughtful. “You’ve been doing something different lately. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s a change. It’s...” His gaze flickered to yours, then dropped back to the floor, but the brief flash in his eyes sent an unexpected flutter through your chest. “...more. More than what you usually show.”
The words themselves were harmless, even complimentary, but it was the way they hung between you that made something inside you stir—something you couldn’t name, not yet. You didn’t think much of it at first, but the way his eyes lingered just a second longer than necessary made your breath catch. The way the corners of his mouth lifted into a half-smile, not teasing, but... fond.
It was a simple thing. A fleeting moment. And yet, it lingered in your mind as you retreated to your apartment, your thoughts whirling with the possibility that Viktor—your friend, the one you had so casually laughed and bantered with for months—might be seeing you differently, too.
The shift was subtle, but it was there. And it unsettled you more than you cared to admit.
-
Everything came to a boiling point one night at your apartment. You’d ventured into town earlier that day, mostly for a change of scenery, and happened upon a small farmers market. You couldn’t resist grabbing a few bottles of strawberry wine, its sweetness and fruity undertones practically calling your name. Jayce had scoffed at it when you got back, claiming it was too sugary to have any real punch. “There’s no way I’ll even get drunk off this,” he’d muttered with a dismissive wave.
An hour later, he was sprawled out on your pullout, snoring softly with a stupid grin plastered across his face. You and Viktor stood nearby, both trying—and failing—to suppress your amusement at how quickly Jayce had succumbed to the wine’s effects. For all his size, Jayce was a surprising lightweight.
“I swear, every time,” you said, laughing quietly.
Viktor, leaning against the doorway, gave a soft chuckle. “Some people just don’t know when to stop.”
You rolled your eyes, glancing over at the slumbering man. “Guess we let him sleep it off.”
“Let him have his beauty rest,” Viktor teased, his voice light as he nodded toward the bottles. “We can always finish it ourselves.”
So you did, winding up on the roof with the cold night air around you. The worn-out couch up there had seen better days, but it was still enough to settle into and talk, a simple quiet comfort settling over you both. The soft glow of string lights and the silvered moonlight made the world feel like it was wrapped in a quiet hush despite the never ending sounds of the city. You both settled into the couch, the cushions sinking in the middle, which pushed you just a little closer to Viktor than you'd anticipated.
For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence was easy, like you had spent years in it. You noticed how close you were sitting now—your thighs pressed together, and when you passed the bottle of wine, your fingers brushed his. A small spark of awareness ran through you each time, and you tried to ignore it, feeling your face warm despite the cool air.
The wine was sweet, fruity, and a little stronger than you expected, especially when you found yourself reaching for another sip and another, the soft buzz in your head gradually growing stronger.
By the time the bottle was halfway gone, you were both leaning more heavily into the couch, and you couldn’t help but giggle at how little wine was apparently needed to bring Jayce to the brink of passing out. You felt... lighter. Almost giddy, as if the laughter that came so easily was spilling out along with the alcohol. And Viktor, sitting just beside you, didn’t seem to be immune to it either. His face was flushed in the soft light, his lips curling into an easy smile.
“You know,” you said, leaning back and feeling the warmth of the couch soak into your bones, “I don’t do this enough. I’m so... wrapped up in work and life and... I just forget to relax.”
Viktor tilted his head, eyes slightly narrowed as he watched you. “Relaxing can be overrated,” he said with a smirk, the words a little slower than they’d been earlier. He took another drink from the bottle, his thumb brushing against the glass in an unconscious rhythm. When he passed it to you, your fingers brushed once again, and you lingered just a bit longer than necessary.
“Well, maybe for you,” you chuckled. “But, for me, it’s like... it's like a luxury, I guess. You know? I don’t remember the last time I just sat with someone and... and didn’t feel like I had to be somewhere or do something.”
“You eh–... don’t have to worry about that here,” Viktor said quietly, his voice light, with that usual teasing edge. But something was different in his tone, something that made the words feel heavier than they should have been. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but the air seemed to shift, the quiet between you stretching into something almost… charged.
You took another sip, your hand a little unsteady now. The whole situation felt absurd—awkward, even, yet strangely intimate in a way you hadn’t expected. Your gaze drifted toward his lips without thinking. It was brief, but enough to send a flutter through your stomach, and suddenly, your mind couldn’t focus on anything but that soft, confident curve of his mouth. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was something else entirely, but you couldn’t seem to think straight anymore.
Viktor shifted closer again, and the couch beneath you groaned as it sank with the weight of it. The space between you closed, and you could feel the warmth of his body pressing against yours shoulder to shoulder, like the alcohol spreading through you, making your pulse quicken.
For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. His presence was a solid thing beside you. His eyes were locked on yours, studying, but still so calm. You could feel the punch of his gaze on you, like it was seeping through your skin, sending heat rushing to your cheeks. It wasn’t just the wine now—you could feel it all over, heat blooming beneath your skin, making you fidget slightly.
“Sometimes… you get caught up in what you’re doing, and you forget about everything else,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the way your nerves were tightening your chest. “I’ve been focused on my career and—god, I’ve probably been a little… I don’t know, closed off.” You laughed lightly, but it was nervous, unsure of where this was even coming from. But suddenly all your senses were barraged by him, his smell, his eyes.
“I just—I haven’t thought about it. Relationships, I mean. Not in a long time. I don’t know if I’m even ready for anything like that. Not now, not with everything I’m doing.” You trailed off, self-conscious, suddenly feeling like you were saying too much, rambling without stopping. The words seemed to just slip out of you, tumbling over each other.
You took another shaky breath, your heart thudding in your chest as you tried to make yourself stop, but you couldn’t. It was like you were helpless.
“And, I mean, if anybody were to kiss me…” You faltered, realizing too late just how much you were giving away. Your pulse quickened, your thoughts jumbled as your mouth just kept moving. “I would want that person to be you.”
The air between you thickened, the silence stretching long and heavy. Your heart pounded in your chest, a nervous rhythm that drowned out everything else. You waited for him to say something, to break the tension that was suffocating you. But there was nothing. Just the weight of his gaze on you, steady and searching.
When you finally dared to glance at him Viktor's expression was unreadable. One thick eyebrow was cocked slightly, and his mouth hung open just enough to suggest he was about to say something, but didn't. He was so close but somehow the distance between you felt infinite.
You opened your mouth to say something, to fill the silence, but before you could speak, his hand moved, his fingers brushing against your jaw in the gentlest touch. The sudden warmth of his palm made your breath catch, and before you could even fully process it, he was pulling you in. His lips met yours, soft at first, as though testing the waters, as if the moment itself was delicate. But that softness didn't last, between the buzz of alcohol, the closeness, the heat between you—it all blurred together. The kiss deepened, quickly turning urgent, hungry. His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the bottle slipped from your grasp, its clang against the concrete floor echoing in the quiet of the rooftop
You didn't care. You were too lost in the feeling of him against you, his lips moving against yours with a desperate kind of need. The kiss grew messier– clumsy, teeth scraping, tongues tangling. You could taste the faint sweetness of wine on him, the mix of flavors making everything feel dizzying overwhelming.
You found yourself gripping his shirt, pulling him closer, as if trying to merge your bodies together, desperate for the contact, for whatever it was that had been building between you two for so long.
-
The next day was a harsh slap of hangover reality. Your head pounded, your mouth was dry, and every time you glanced at Viktor across the room, your stomach flipped in a way that had nothing to do with the booze.
Jayce, of course, was none the wiser. He chatted away over breakfast like nothing had changed, blissfully unaware of the shift that had unraveled everything you thought you’d had under control. And you? You were wholly committed to keeping it that way. It was a one-time thing, you told yourself. Just a fleeting, drunken thing—something you could both quietly bury and move on from.
At least, that was the plan.
Until it happened again. And then again.
Now it feels like a thread being pulled tighter and tighter, until you’re not sure if you’re going to unravel completely or snap under the weight.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. But here you are. And you don’t know how to stop.
©lilsworks 2024
#viktor x reader#viktor arcane#viktor#arcane#viktor x you#arcane x you#arcane fanfic#viktor fanfic#fwb#friends with benifits#viktor x y/n#arcane viktor#arcane fic#viktor fic#arcane x reader#lils work#mine#strawberry wine
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country living
request: there needs to be more love for jemily x reader tho!! so im thinking like jj taking her partners back to pennsylvania to show them what it’s all about
jemily x reader
summary: jj’s high school reunion is happening and she convinces both her girlfriends to come to her small rural town in pennsylvania.
a/n: hey hottie!! thanks for the request— country girls shake it for me jj edit stans rise!! idk how rural east allegheny is but im making it very small town rural 🤠 hope you enjoy <3 if anyone wants the actual reunion part of this just let me know 🫡
“good evening lovers!” y/n smiled over her shoulder at the sound of her front door opening.
“lovers? that’s new.” emily mumbled as she rounded the kitchen island to the younger woman.
“you got a problem being one of my lovers?” y/n asked teasingly as she turned the heat down on the stove.
“not at all, just curious.” emily replied holding her hands up in surrender before placing a kiss on y/n’s cheek.
“i kinda like it.” jj mused slipping out of her shoes.
“you like anything that alludes to bedroom activities.” y/n rolled her eyes at the blonde.
“guilty!” jj sing-songed, coming to pinch y/n’s side affectionately. the younger woman turned the stove off completely and turned to face her girlfriends.
“dinner will be done in a little bit if you want any. oh and before i forget, i picked up your mail, it’s in the mail holder in the entryway.”
“thanks baby.” jj smiled, stepping back in the entryway to retrieve their mail. she shuffled the envelopes, scanning the senders as she walked back into the kitchen. she plopped down on a stool and passed emily a few bills before pausing at an invitation addressed to her. she slid her finger through the sealed envelope and pulled the invite out curiously.
“god, has it really been 25 years since i graduated high school?” jj mumbled as she flipped the card over.
“25 years?” y/n echoed. “i’m not even going to say what i was going to say.”
“oh god, don’t do that thing you do when you say how old you were during that year. it always makes me feel old.” emily grumbled.
“hey! i stopped myself. i can’t help it, it’s the only way i can track time.” y/n whined as she started plating dinner. “anyways, is there a reunion or something?”
“yeah, it’s in pennsylvania next month.”
“oo, are you gonna go?”
“maybe. i haven’t been home in a pretty long time. i’m sure my mother would enjoy that.” jj mused.
“if we don’t have a case, i think you should go.” emily added.
“i second that. you gotta show everybody how hot you still are.” y/n nodded, as they all settled around her small dinner table.
“well if i go, you two have to go too. what better way to show everyone how hot i am, than to bring my super sexy lovers.” jj pointed with a cheeky wink.
“to pennsylvania?” emily grimaced.
“yes? don’t look so happy about it.” jj rolled her eyes.
“i don’t know, didn’t you grow up on a farm or something?” emily continued.
“not on the farm, near yes. you’re acting like im gonna make you milk a cow and churn your own butter.”
“didn’t reid say you were corn fed once? is that not what that means?” emily questioned.
“can i wear cowgirl boots? i don’t have any but i wanna buy some.” y/n asked turning to jj.
“obviously neither of you have ever been to pennsylvania.” jj shook her head.
“right, but cowgirl boots. yay or nay?”
“i vote yes. i think you’d look hot.” emily voted.
jj sighed with a smile and shook her head, “god, i hope we get to go to this reunion.”
-
luck was surprisingly on jj’s side and she and her girlfriends were pulling up to her childhood home in East Allegheny early thursday morning.
jj put the car in park and slid out first and sighed as she gazed over her childhood home. y/n hopped out of the backseat, feet covered by the red leather cowgirl boots she just bought. emily slid out last, sunglasses blocking the sun and a soft flush from the morning heat.
“welcome to east allegheny.” jj smiled turning to face both women.
“how exciting! pennsylvania.” emily teasingly cheered, causing jj to roll her eyes.
“it is giving corn fed.” y/n spoke quietly as emily leaned into her side.
“oh shut up! you two are the worst.” jj pouted.
“we’re kidding we’re kidding!” y/n protested moving to wrap her arms around jj’s neck and pull her close. “we’re so excited to learn more about country living babe.” y/n grinned before puckering her lips in a silent request.
“mmhmm, you’re definitely dressed for country living.” jj teased, meeting y/n’s lips sweetly.
“just be glad, em wouldn’t let me wear my hat. i think it looked adorable.”
“adorable yes. i agree. but i think it was a little too on the nose.maybe save that for texas or something.”
“hater.” y/n rolled her eyes before hissing as emily pinched her bum in retaliation.
“alright you two, behave. my mom’s waiting inside and i’ve got a whole day of east allegheny things i wanna show you.” jj scolded.
“yes ma’am.” emily and y/n said in unison with giggles on their tongue. emily grabbed their weekend bags and followed behind jj and y/n as they headed for the house. as soon as the first stair creaked— the door flew open and revealed sandy jareau.
“hey mom.” jj smiled softly at her mother through the screen door. their relationship had definitely been strained in the past but sandy seemed to finally be accepting her daughter for who she was and who she loved.
“morning jenny. come on in girls. i just finished breakfast.” sandy corralled leaning to kiss jj’s cheek as she pasted through the door. both y/n and emily followed suit and smiled politely at their host. jj leads the way through the hall of her childhood, breezing past the soccer pictures and family portraits on the wall. but unfortunately for her— her girlfriends were not breezing past anything.
“oh my god, is that jj?” y/n asked on an excited gasp. jj groaned and turned to see where the younger woman had stopped in the hall. she shook her head solemnly when she realized she had stopped at the top of the hallway.
“oh yeah, little jenny.” sandy smiled over the younger woman’s shoulder. “i’ve got the pictures situated chronologically as you go further up the hallway. she’d just lost her first tooth.”
“oh i just wanna pinch those cheeks!” y/n grinned pulling her phone out to snap a picture to keep.
“i’ll have to get the album out before y’all head back.” sandy smiled heading toward the kitchen.
“oh god, don’t enable her. there’s no telling what she’ll do with those pictures.” jj whined.
“no no, don’t listen to her. mrs. jareau, i need to see every baby picture of jj you have in this house.” y/n called as she stuck her tongue out at jj teasingly.
emily hid her laughter behind her hand and placed her hands on y/n’s waist to guide her toward the kitchen of the small home. jj followed behind rolling her eyes at the giddy look on all the women’s faces.
-
“are we taking the truck? please say we’re taking the truck.” y/n bounced at the bottom of the steps looking up at jj. they’d all cleaned their plates and thanked sandy and now jj had a day of ‘country living’ planned for her two girlfriends.
“i kinda wanna see you drive a truck as well. is there a hat you’ll wear as well?” emily joined y/n at the bottom of the stares.
“oh it’d be so hot.” y/n mused bringing her hands up to pull on jj’s arm impatiently.
jj’s eyes moved from emily’s teasing smirk and y/n’s pleading pout and couldn’t help but grin under their attention. allowing the younger woman to pull her into her side, she placed a chaste kiss on her pouting lips. “fine fine, we’ll take the truck. since it’s in such popular demand.”
y/n cheered happily and made a beeline for the old red truck parked under the tree leaving emily and jj to watch her go. emily slung her arm over jj’s shoulder with a laugh, “she’s loving this way more than i thought she would.”
“wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got a thing for cowgirls.” jj said bumping her hip against emily’s.
“oh for sure.” emily agreed with a laugh. they watched as y/n climbed into the bed of the truck and turned to face them.
“can i ride in the back? i wanna feel the country wind in my hair.”
“no.” both emily and jj vetoed in unison.
“aww you guys are no fun.” y/n pouted but knew they weren’t changing their minds.
-
“emily!” jj called with her hands held out in warning.
“what?!” emily paused in her step.
“your foot is hovering over a huge pile of shit. and i know how many you’re going to be if you step in that.” jj pointed.
“oh yeah that’d be so gross. we’d make you ride in the bed of the truck.” y/n nodded turning to look at the poop in question. “oh my god— what kinda animal did that?”
jj laughed with a shake of a head and turned y/n back toward the way they were walking. “the horses.”
“have i been that obvious about my cowgirl thing?” y/n asked eyeing both emily and jj.
“we assumed but the look in your eyes confirmed everything we were thinking.” emily shrugged with a knowing smirk.
y/n nodded in acceptance before turning to face jj, “in that case, i need to see you up on that steed, now.”
“i can’t believe you just said steed.” emily deadpanned.
-
after spending the day on her grandfathers farm, jj pulled the truck into the only small parking lot lit up. it was about 9pm and east allegheny had fully transitioned into night life mode. which in a small town means going to ‘the hidey hole’ for darts, beers, line dancing, and fried onion blossoms.
jj slid out of the truck first and emily followed from the passenger door. after refusing to let y/n ride in the bed of the truck, she insisted on being squished between them in the front. with both women out of the truck, she scooted her way to the edge of the driver’s side and hopped into jj’s waiting arms.
“i think we should get a truck.” she smiled dreamily as jj placed her on the ground.
“you’re only saying that because you’ve been wedged between us all day.” jj shook her head in amusement.
“well yes, but think of the easy access a truck allows.” y/n grinned mischievously.
emily blew a huff through her nose as she rounded the truck and stepped behind jj, caging the blonde between them. “now she makes a very good point. i think we should hear her out.”
jj’s cheeks reddened and her eyes rolled, “you two are trouble. i’m starting to regret bringing you both here.” y/n and emily laughed joyously before both kissing one of jj’s cheeks affectionately and releasing her.
they all filed into the bar and nabbed a tall table in the corner. with both y/n and emily seated, jj nodded her head toward the bar. “i’m gonna go get us some drinks and an onion blossom.”
“an onion what?” emily asked as jj walked away.
“i have no idea. i can’t lie though, i’m kinda excited.” y/n clapped happily. jj returned shortly with three beers wedged between her fingers and a plate of fried deliciousness.
“oh it’s definitely giving corn fed.” y/n grinned, pulling the onion blossom toward her side of the table eagerly.
-
“baby, why’s your face on the wall?” y/n asked as she and jj set up for a darts game.
“oh no reason—“ jj started to deflect but was quickly interrupted by a bumbling gruff guy leaning against the wall near them. “she’s the only person who’s ever gotten a single treble 20 in this town.”
y/n looked between the man and jj incredulously, “so you’re basically famous?”
jj shook her head with a smitten grin and the guy nodded his head in agreement. “she’s hidey hole royalty.”
“oh my god, em! jj’s royalty! come take my picture with her picture.” y/n called across the bar— much to jj’s dismay. she was positive those beers were finally hitting her girlfriend and she couldn’t help but to laugh as she watched her pose with the framed photo on the wall.
-
full of cheap beer and love, jj stopped the rusty truck in the backyard of her house. with the car in park she turned to her girlfriends with a smile. “wait here, i’ll be right back.” she darted up the back porch and quietly opened the screen door to enter. y/n and emily watched her go, but stayed put as they’d been told. when jj reemerged she was carrying piles of pillows and dragging blankets behind her. she threw them into the bed of the truck and pulled herself over the edge to situate everything comfortably. once the blankets were placed to her liking, she knocked on the back window and motioned for both women to join her.
“i can’t believe i ate something called an onion blossom.” emily groaned as she shuffled closer to y/n’s side.
“i can’t believe you wouldn’t line dance with us. that was a once in a lifetime experience.” y/n grumbled.
“you get so much more dramatic when you drink.” emily spoke into the younger woman’s hairline.
“you got a problem with that?” y/n asked feigning aggression.
“quiet you two, or i’ll ground you both.” jj reprimanded teasingly, eyes trained on the star filled sky. they all dissolved into giggles, feeling so light and so full of love that they couldn’t contain it. when they quieted down jj spoke softly. “when i was younger my grandfather would set up the truck like this for ros and i every weekend. it was my favorite part of the week.” y/n pulled jj closer as they quietly listened to her story. “it’s probably one of the things i miss the most about her. it was like our special time together. we didn’t argue, she wasn’t completely annoyed by my presence and it was our sister time.”
emily reached across y/n to twine her and jj’s fingers in support. “you know that reminds me of my summers in paris with my grandfather in his isolated cabin. we’d spend the day hiking and fishing. and end the night in a hammock identifying constellations.” emily recalled.
“i know you’ve both been together for so long, but i don’t think i’ll ever get tired of getting to know you both.” y/n smiled up at the stars squeezing both emily and jj affectionately. they hummed happily and enjoyed the clear night sky. a true perk of country living.
#jemily x reader#emily prentiss x reader#criminal minds x reader#jennifer jareau x reader#jemily#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau#msschemmenti
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Loopholes
Thinking about general versus specific spells and loopholes in magic today…
I find that general spells are often less effective than spells that are really specific. Or, at least, a general spell’s effects are more difficult to measure than a spell with specific instructions and expectations.
Leaving spells general also leaves room for loopholes. Now, depending on the paradigm you’re operating from, loopholes may not be an issue. But they can cause unexpected and sometimes unwanted side effects, or cause the primary desired outcome to manifest in a way that isn’t ideal.
For another example, consider if you cast a spell for someone to take a romantic interest in you with no specifications on the type of person you’re looking for. That coworker you don’t particularly like but who already thinks you’re neat is likelier to form romantic feelings for you than, say, the unattainable hot guy whose name you don’t know and with whom your only conversation is “Would you like that small, medium, or large?”
This, in my paradigm, is because those connections either already exist or they’re stronger. You know that coworker better, they know you better, and you have more ties than the hot barista you see once every three weeks.
If you want the barista’s attention and not the coworker’s, it’s important to specify that — to close the loophole.
I always think about connections working against me, too, when I’m doing magic. If a person who hates me is the primary interviewer at a company I’m interested in, I have to account for their rancid opinion if I want to get that job. I have to do extra work to either get around, rewrite, or disconnect the existing connection in order to increase the likelihood of a favorable outcome.
My partner and I are currently looking at buying a house (yay!). Our area is pretty expensive, and very affordable homes tend to be… well, to put it kindly… shitholes.
Those conditions (those connections) are strongly ingrained into the environment. I can’t single-handedly change the economy, though I wish I could. And I can’t force a house to spontaneously appear between two existing houses, even though that neighborhood is absolutely perfect and I desperately want to live there. There isn’t room, and that isn’t physically possible.
Well, alright, I suppose I could do a spell to convince both owners to chop up their parcels into smaller pieces for sale, do another spell to make the parcels affordable, and then another spell for someone to build an affordable house on the land. But that’d be a teeny little house and yard! It might work better in a location with bigger parcels and more space between houses, but this is a cute little rural-type suburb, not the country roads further out of town. As it is in this location we’re looking at, to make it viable for our wants and needs would be physically impossible; we’d be compromising too much one way or another, and it wouldn’t be worthwhile!
But I can do spells for houses with specific qualities to come onto the market, and I can include my particular price range! I can do magic to encourage the bank to give us a better deal on our pre-approval! I can do a spell to urge sellers to drop their prices or accept an offer that’s under their asking price but within our budget!
It’s a matter of identifying what I want and what might stand in the way. It’s also about considering the things I’m leaving unsaid, or that could be taken in multiple ways. Like, if I say I want a basement, and we find a house that’s perfect, fitting all our desired qualities!
…except that basement floods several times a year, and that’s why it’s unfinished, so it’s wasted space that requires expensive yearly upkeep or a massive, pricey overhaul to prevent for the future. That would be a hell of a loophole to discover. Closing as many loopholes as possible can help a spell produce a result that’s exactly (or close to exactly) what I expect it to be with as few unpleasant side effects as possible.
Another method I’ve seen, which I think comes from @windvexer, is the “if/then” method of creating conditions within a spell. I find it’s really useful for closing loopholes, since it keeps a spell from deviating from your instructions or fizzling out when it can’t fulfill its purpose as written.
The method looks like this in practice:
“This spell is a money spell. Its purpose is to bring $500 in tarot commissions to me by the end of April.
“If April is not possible, then by the end of June.
“If $500 is not possible, then no less than $300.
“If not by tarot commissions, then this money will come to me via tips and subscriptions.
“If not by tips and subscriptions, then this money will come to me via other types of contract work.
“If any final condition (end of June, no less than $300, contract work) is not possible, I will receive a sign in the form of three cardinals sitting on the hood of my car, and the spell will end.”
Thus, the loopholes I’m worried about are closed, and I have a condition set to end the spell and send me a sign if it isn’t possible. It’s a simple but very effective method that I’ve found really useful for getting super specific in my spellwork!
Anyways, point is, loopholes matter because connections matter and therefore the space between those connections matter. If one of my spells fails or produces an unexpected result, loopholes are the first things I look for. What happened, and could I have prevented it? How so? Then note it down, and do the next spell.
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>:-)
considering making yet another AU with the boys....
#yea i'm ruining the boys' lives again#kel is absolutely Feral & Weird in this AU#it's. awesome#& dhes is kind of a freak lol. he also goes by his real name in this AU#this'll be the first time i get to use his real name in a story!#i'm thinkin like. 70s. rural small town. somewhere in the south.#boys are probably in their mid 20s.#i'm temporarily calling it the slaughter house AU for. reasons.#one can imagine.#uh so far i've managed to edit 3 of the 13 renders for this edit#but now my shoulder kind of hurts so i'm takin a break til tomorrow#which means i get to brainstorm ideas for this AU for the rest of the day :-) yay :-)#i actually already have a lot for it. bc i was thinkin about it while editing#i love when stories just come together like that. it's great#n e way#rainyrambles
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Top 10 Great BLs That Are REALLY hard to find (but worth tracking down)
You may want to go hunting anyway!
Seven Days
Seven Days: Monday-Thursday
Seven Days: Friday-Sunday
Japan 2015
Never doubt my ability to recommend this show. One of the best live action yaois ever made, with perfectly structured angst, fantastic characters and acting, and no problematic tropes (rare in Japanese BL). The leads have excellent chemistry although it’s low heat there’s still some really cute mutual kisses.
Cherry Magic AKA 30-sai made Dotei Da to Mahotsukai ni Nareru rashii
Japan 2020
The sweetest fluffiest magical realism BL, packaged as a pinning office romance, very low heat (practically chaste) but the cutest. It’s truly great.
Cherry Magic Thailand
Thai 2024
A soft charming warm hug of a show about crushes and mind reading and self worth, with no-fuss execution from a consummate team and an OG lead pair proving why they remain eternal and deserve to grow up. Look, here’s the thing, Cherry Magic is a great Thai BL in its own right not comparing it to any other iteration. But even when I do compare (and I've seen all the Cherries and read the manga) it still stands. I personally like it slightly better than the Japanese live action, but I think that’s because I just really like Thai BL and I LOVE TayNew. Also all the kissing was both present and better than any other iteration. As it should be from Thailand.
I Feel You Linger in the Air
Thai 2023
IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework (much like Until We Meet Again). Steeped in history and family drama it edges into lakorn (but no as much as To Sir With Love and with way less scenery chewing). This is an elegant and classy BL... from Thailand which normally doesn't even try for classy. The main couple (both as a pair and individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. Pity about the ending. Oh it wasn’t that sad but it wasn’t good either. This show could easily have earned a 10/10 from me except that it fumbled the… erm… balls in the final quarter. Argh. Whatever.
All about the ecstasy and the agony here.
Restart After Come Back Home AKA Risutato wa tadaima no ato de
Japan 2020
Atmospheric study in rural Japan meets complex family dynamics built on a romance framework of city boy meets country boy, grumpy/sunshine. It’s beautiful and icy sweet. Slow moving in places but ultimately worth the patience, low heat, low angst, and stunning.
Given
Japan 2021
Boy joins band, falls in love with other boy. The singing is terrible, fast forward through that but with the possible exception of the hair styles, this BL could have been made in 2015 and no one would be surprised. As such, it wasn’t ground breaking, but it didn’t disappoint either.
Make a Wish
Thai 2023
A doctor who can see the dead strikes a bargain with a wish-granting irreverent tree angel - naturally they fall in love (from Sammon: Manner of Death & Triage). Stars Fluke Natouch opposite not-Ohm, but who tf cares because Fluke has chemistry with everybody. Once again the Thai afterlife is incredibly bureaucratic but I enjoyed the premise and the unfolding of the story (it’s not predictable but still satisfying and with nice little twist). I like that the doctor is just gay AF - fag hag bestie and all the swagger. The cast is excellent even if the comedic stylings are a bit overblown and tonally off. It had sad parts and did make me cry but is ultimately happy with a great sex scene, good smiley kisses, and all the agency. Definitely recommended.
2 Moons The Ambassador AKA 2 Moons 3
Thai 2022
A Thai pulp that felt like it came out 5 yrs prior, with many of the flaws inherent to that time and studio system, including manufactured angst and convoluted plot, but an ultimately sweet main couple that (as a pairing) feels a bit more modern and satisfying to watch than they started out. This will probably go down in history as one of the few BLs where I genuinely didn’t care about any of the side couples. All that said, I find this show oddly appealing and rewatchable and I have no excuses for that except, I enjoyed it probably more than it deserved. Nostalgia & d**k, it's what's for dinner.
I Want to See Only You AKA Kimi no Koto Dake Mite Itai
Japan 2022
This is a beautiful well acted piece of cinema, about two boys who are opposite personalities and grew up together. Gifted and serious Sakura pines after outgoing eccentric manic pixie dream boy, Yuma. It is very pretty and this is the kind of atmospheric elegantly performed BL that only really comes from Japan (complete with dead fish kisses - what you though Korea invented them? oh no). If you want something stylish, this is it.
Triage
Thai 2022
BL does Groundhog Day featuring a doctor stuck in a time loop who must save a poor little rich boy from death by seducing the stuffing out of him, then PLOT TWIST, poor little rich boy must do the same for the doctor! Unfortunately... stuffing keeps leaking. I thought the plot was engaging if a little redundant and occasionally exhausting. The pairs were all well done, low heat but with decent chemistry and the support characters were likable (or unlikable, as required). If anything, the romance arc detracted and distracted from the main plot, but that doesn't stop this from being a genuinely good show.
HONORABLE MENTION
Great Men Academy
Thai 2019
Bodyswap involving unicorns turning a teenage girl into a boy makes this questionable as a BL (because, ya know, gender). But the fact remains that James is killer in the lead, and I (who do not like bodyswap) loved this damn show. Look, there is actual plot, hotties at boarding school, "bully the one you love" trope, some weird VR shit, very bad CGI, and yes, the boys end up together... whether they boys or not, so to speak.
Some of these shows may appear on a smaller streaming service, like WeTV, or they may be on a legal platform in your territory. I hope it goes without saying you should check there first.
(source)
This list updated Spring 2024, not responsible for cool stuff that went missing (or was added to a platform) after that date.
It's it last in a series the rest of which are:
#Seven Days#Seven Days: Monday-Thursday#Seven Days: Friday-Sunday#japanese bl#bl recommended list#best bl list#great bl you may no know about#adapted from a manga#live action yaoi#Cherry Magic#30-sai made Dotei Da to Mahotsukai ni Nareru rashii#Cherry Magic th#cherry magic thailand#I Feel You Linger in the Air#thia bl#Restart After Come Back Home#Risutato wa tadaima no ato de#given live action#given the series#make a wish#2 Moons The Ambassador#2 Moons 3#I Want to See Only You#Kimi no Koto Dake Mite Itai#triage#Great Men Academy
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A Gentlemen's Burden - A romantic regency era Joel Miller story - Part 1
This is going to be a series!!!! Yay!!!!
Description : Your typical life with your sister is thrown upside down as a handsome visitor catches your eye.
Warnings : Um idek if this would be considered a pre/no outbreak AU but I guess it is?? Sarah is a pretty prominent character. Female reader. No use of y/n. Age gap (Joel is like 35ish and reader is like 23ish). Regency!Joel? Tried to keep Joel's character pretty consistent but you know... creative liberties were taken for the point of story telling.
Word count : 3.2k
Let me know if you like it!
‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀
You had grown up in rural England, your father’s sprawling fortune overshadowed by his ‘tragic’ lack of sons. Not that he hadn’t tried, though. After your mother died in childbirth with you, he had married a sleuth of eager, young women, all waiting and wanting to give him that son he so craved. And yet, none of them ever fell pregnant. After his fourth wife and divorce, your father gave up, retreating to his office to manage the estate and figure out who would inherit his fortune.
That was when you were around thirteen.
This left you and your sister, Julia, to practically raise yourselves. However, your sister was sixteen and entering the marriage mart. Her beauty and wit earned her a husband in a short time and in her first season. Your father was absolutely overjoyed, because now he may have an heir in a few short years.
That was almost ten years ago, and your sister has popped out a male heir. In fact, she’s popped out about four children. Your nieces and nephews. They are wonderful.
Your sister married an extremely rich man and she likes to spend her days traveling and meeting interesting people. Good thing she has an exceptionally soft heart for you, her perpetual spinster of a sister.
You had entered the marriage mart, sure. Your first season came and went with nothing but uninteresting and shallow men at your door.
“Not even one of them?” Julia had said, pressing you to take at least one visitor.
“No,” You had replied, turning back out the window, “Send them away.”
“I’ll tell them,” Your sister had said sorrowfully.
It’s not that you didn’t want to marry. Sure you did. Marriage between Julia and her husband, Matthew, was quite beautiful. He doted on her and she on him. He gave her anything and everything she wanted. She wanted to come stay with you and your father during your social seasons, and he allowed her. She wanted you to move in with them after your third season and he allowed it. She wants to go and see the world and leave the children with you and the staff for months on end and he goes with her. She lives a good life and you are so grateful to be able to peek in.
Your sister often left you with her children and estate as she and Matthew went off to far lands and expensive travels. But you didn’t mind at all. Her children were delightful. You absolutely adored them. In order, it was Benjamin and then George and then Katherine and then the youngest, Ella.
All of them were delightful and you loved them as if they were your own. Ben and George favored Matthew but Katherine and Ella were copies of you and Julia. They even had the same age gap.
Julia was happy with her family and her husband, even if you find Matthew quite dull.
That’s the problem, you think. The men you’ve met have been quite dull. Conversations are all the same. Ranging from if you can play the pianoforte or if you can draw, nothing about your actual interests. You had grown bored of the marriage mart by your third season and stopped attending the balls and parties. Soon, the invitations stopped coming.
You and Julia were sitting in the drawing room. Your nieces and nephews were all playing around the two of you, causing you and your sister to sit in the eye of the storm. You were reading a book, something by Shakespeare but you weren’t quite paying attention. Your niece, Katherine, was sitting at the pianoforte, trying desperately to play something pleasant and failing miserably. Your sister had just returned from a month long trip to Italy, having left you with the children and estate, as usual.
“I think I’m going to host a ball,” Your sister’s voice pulled your attention from the empty words on the page.
“What?” You said, placing the book face down on your lap.
“Yes,” She said, her voice taking a thoughtful tone and her eyes growing wistful, “My time in Italy truly inspired me. They’re so free there, truly. They dance all night and wake up in the morning ready to do it all again,” She stopped to think and then turned back to you, “Yes. I’m going to host a ball, and there will be sprays of roses and begonias and lots of greenery, to transport me and all of us to Italy,” She clapped her hands together and stood, “Perfect. I was already growing quite bored.”
“Here?” You stood with her, your skirts ruffling and catching from standing so quickly.
“Well, where else would I have it?” She asked you the question as if you were dumb. She started walking out of the drawing room, her heels clicking on the tile of the hallway, “Come, come, you will help me plan it!” She waved you on, moving you from your spot on the floor.
“Julia, what about me? I don’t go to balls, I’m not a debutante anymore,” You said, silently begging her to not insist you come because if she insisted, you would go.
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Julia waved a hand in the air, poking a head into the staff kitchen, no doubt looking for her housekeeper, Margaret, “Matthew and I will be the hosts and I am inviting you. You must come. And, since you are not a debutante, you will not be badgered by the men you so despise. I’m sure they will scurry away from you just fine, no avoidance needed,” Your sister had a way of saying things that made perfect sense and convincing you quite quickly.
But a ball? That was the last thing you wanted to do. You have avoided them so successfully that people have stopped inviting you completely. That was the goal. It was perfect. You lived the great life of a pampered house cat and your nieces and nephews kept you sharp and entertained. You didn’t have to have painfully dull and long conversations with painfully unhandsome and dull men.
However, now that you have been deemed a spinster by society, maybe the single bachelors would look the other way. You definitely didn’t look like a debutante anymore, you are more mature and grown than the young women chasing after young bachelors. You often dressed differently than the young women as well, your sister embracing your independence and desires to be comfortable. What would you wear?
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The week that followed was a frenzy of glitter and colors and flowers. Your sister was absolutely in her element. She adored planning and being in charge. It was perfect for her.
“Oh, Matthew!” Your sister came barreling into the drawing room, screaming and holding a piece of paper to her chest, “Your friend, Mr. Miller is coming into town, just in time for our ball!”
“Mr. Miller?” Matthew stood from his place on the couch next to George, “Oh, I haven’t heard from him in ages. What a treat.”
“It says right here he will be arriving tomorrow, if all goes perfectly well. Oh, I am positively overjoyed! Not only are we going to have a ball, but one of our most interesting friends is coming to visit!” She spun around with a smile on her face and Matthew smiled with her, as did you. Her joy was infectious.
You had heard the two of them talk about Mr. Miller. A widowed father that lived on the opposite side of London. He was a successful businessman, owning multiple lumber companies and having fleets of ships to do his bidding. He hails all the way from America. Very interesting that he would want to settle here, especially since his daughter is also American, from what you hear. Hm. Maybe this ball wouldn’t be so dreadful, at least you could ask Mr. Miller questions about his life.
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You wake the next morning with the estate abuzz. Even the staff dressing you can’t stop talking about your sister’s visitor from America. Don’t they know he’s not coming all the way from America? Anyway, you don’t stop their chittering or gossiping, you like to hear the rumors the staff start to, more entertaining to report to your sister and laugh about later.
That is, until they insist your hair must be up for the new visitor. Wearing your hair up was positively dreadful as the pins poked and prodded your scalp. You refused and one of the younger maids frowned.
“Pray tell,” You say, startling the maids, “Why must I wear my hair up for any old visitor? My hair is never put up in pins. Did Matthew or my sister have anything to do with you requesting this?” You scan each of their faces in the mirror, waiting for something to flash across any of them.
“No, Miss,” They hung their heads in shame and you narrowed your eyes.
“Then what is the point of dressing me so… well,” You peered down at the beautiful gown they dressed you in. This was not your typical everyday dress.
“He’s a bachelor,” One of the younger maids blurted out.
“Ah,” You smile in recognition. They wanted you and Mr. Miller to hit it off. “I will not wear my hair in any particular way just because the visitor is a bachelor, alright? I enjoy my hair being down and so I will leave it down. Besides, I’m not even truly available to men anymore, ladies. No need to impress them.”
The maids continued their work and you watched in the mirror as the shock at your refusal never quite left their eyes until they all filed out of the room.
You look in the mirror before joining your sister and her family for breakfast and laugh slightly. Makeup was not something you wore regularly and this morning, your dressing maids had taken the liberty of putting some on you. How kind.
You were still laughing when you entered the dining room for breakfast.
“Oh my,” Julia watched you as you sat down next to her, “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” You laughed again, “The staff wants me to marry this Mr. Miller.”
“Oh,” Julia said, realization coloring her face, “Oh, makes more sense.”
“Yes,” Matthew chimed in, digging into his breakfast and not particularly noticing you, “I heard some chatter about how you refused to put your hair up, yes?”
“Yes,” You laugh again, taking a fork in your hand, “Oh, I guess good news travels fast.”
You and Julia laugh together as you recount what you had heard them say about Mr. Miller and Julia took breakfast as an opportunity to gossip with the children about how rich Mr. Miller was. She even mentioned that Mr. Miller had a daughter that was to enter the marriage mart soon. Sarah, was her name. You listen as you eat your breakfast and soon find yourself floating from room to room, watching the staff flit about, still preparing for a ball and now a visitor.
You wonder downstairs to where everything is coated in romantic flowers and greenery. You had to say, your sister had quite the eye for a ball. It was still your home and yet you felt as if you had been transported. She had done a truly wonderful job. You must remember to compliment her and Margaret.
“Come now,” Julia’s hand slotted into your own, pulling you, “A carriage has pulled up and we must greet Mr. Miller.”
Oh.
The pressure of meeting this Mr. Miller slid off of you but you couldn’t help feeling a bit nervous. You’ve never met an American.
You lined up with the rest of the family, standing between Margaret and Ella, your rightful place as the lady of the house’s sister.
You cock your head as the most handsome man you’ve ever seen climbs out of the carriage. As he steps onto the ground, he smiles a warm smile towards Matthew and then turns again reaching a hand out to the carriage door to which a young girl allows him to help her out. She’s precious. Her dark curls framing her face and bouncing with her movements.
“Mr. Miller,” Matthew announces, extending his arms.
“Oh, no need for such formalities, old friend,” Mr. Miller rushes to Matthew and shakes his hand and then hugs him, laughing. His voice is deep and gravelly, but the smile on his face shoos away any sort of intimidation he might emit.
“Mr. Miller,” Julia says fondly, “How wonderful to see you again.” “Lady Langford,” He extends a handshake to your sister, “You’ve added another one,” She looks to Ella, who’s standing proudly, smoothing her skirt a little. You smile, looking at her. Then, Mr. Miller looks at you and cocks his head slightly. “This,” Julia steps out of line and starts walking towards you, “Is my sister,” She takes your shoulders in her hands. “Hello,” You curtsy as best you can and smile at him, “Lovely to meet you.”
The confidence Mr. Miller has falters slightly as he looks at you and he smiles politely.
“Lovely to meet you as well,” He extends a hand, but not for a handshake. Instead, he grabs your hand and presses a gentle, quick kiss to your knuckles, returning your hand to its place at your side.
“She’s unmarried,” Julia threw in, not so casually, “So, she resides with us and cares for the children while Lord Langford and I are away on holiday.”
“Oh, how I’ve missed English company,” He swiftly turns from you, smiling towards your sister. You exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding as his gaze leaves your face. His casual, collected demeanor is a stark contrast to the emotions written across his face just moments before. Have you met before? Were you being rude in some way? Surely that isn’t just his face.
“I’m Sarah,” His daughter’s melodic voice interrupted your train of thought as she curtsied to you, “Thank you Lady Langford for allowing us to visit.”
“Oh, of course!” Julia smiled from ear-to-ear at Sarah and then looked to Mr. Miller, “Come now, Lord Langford must surely want to give you both a tour.”
The four of them walked away, already chatting. You could have joined them for the tour of the estate but honestly, your brief interaction with Mr. Miller had thrown you for a loop.
“Back into the house,” You placed a gentle hand on the backs of your nieces and nephews, “We will rejoin them for dinner, yes?”
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As the few hours between Mr. Miller’s arrival and lunch passed on, you found yourself lost in thought wandering through the house again. You clutched a book in your hands but again, it was going unread. You couldn’t shake the thoughts of Mr. Miller. Of course, this was normal for anyone else. A strange visitor, a properly handsome one at that, with tales from America and you had barely scratched the surface. You allowed your mind to drift to daydreams of his American adventures as a businessman. Maybe he would have a tale of a daring adventure crossing the ocean. You thought of how he might look, a white billowy shirt on, see-through with water, pulling at heavy ropes and sails. You felt your chest grow hotter and you blushed at nothing.
“Hello,” A deep, gravelly voice interrupted your thoughts. You jumped slightly, completely startled.
“Oh!” You turned toward the source and of course found Mr. Miller, “Mr. Miller, I see you’ve found,” You looked around quickly, taking in your surroundings, “The library. Lord and Lady Langford have quite the collection,” You tried your hardest to keep your voice steady but failed miserably.
He smiled a gentle smile and looked around at the many books, taking steps into the room.
“Yes,” He agreed, “Lady Langford showed me earlier. She enjoys a guest,” He looked at you again, your breath spilling out of you quickly.
“Oh, she does indeed,” You smiled, dropping the book by your side.
“You two are close, I presume?” His smile dropped as he turned towards you fully now, his broad frame appearing even broader as his jacket stretched across his large muscles. You allowed yourself a peak at his biceps and then met his eyes again, hoping he didn’t notice.
“We are,” You said, a little too loudly. Why was he making you so nervous? “Best friends, we’d,” You faltered slightly, now answering the question truly instead of on auto-pilot, “We’d do anything for each other.”
“Any other siblings?” He said, his arms still clasped at the hands in front of him.
“No,” You replied, relaxing a bit into your stance, “Just us.”
“Hm,” He said, in thought, turning away from you again and looking towards the books, “And these? These are your choices, I presume?” He motioned to the book in your hand.
“What?” You look down at the book in your hand, taking in the title quickly and looking back to Mr. Miller, “Yes, yes. I love to read. I love literature and an occasional poem.”
“Really? I truly admire some of the new poets and their work. I actually just got back from France with Sarah where we met some wonderful new artists. Have you read anything recently published?”
“France? Wow. It must’ve been beautiful,” You mentally searched your mind for anything you’ve read that had been recently published, “On the Sea by John Keats.”
He nodded and smiled, “Yes,” He unclasped his hands and reached up to touch a book, “Quite a poet for someone your age.”
“Really?” You challenged, feeling your nerves melt away slightly, “Or is it just quite a poet for a woman?”
He laughed at that, retreating his hand from the shelf, “No, of course not. Just… I haven’t found someone under the age of thirty-five to read Keats.”
“Hm,” You purse your lips and return your attention to the book in your hand, “Well, I’d better go and get ready for dinner, it’s a formal occasion in this house.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else from Lady Langford,” He smiled, almost laughing, “And, if you would, I’d love to discuss more poets with you. I have a female poet I think you’d love, if you like Keats.”
You smile, almost blushing.
“See you for dinner, Mr. Miller,” You turn on your heels out of the library, but not before allowing yourself a proper look at him. His dark hair was starting to curl at the edges, his graying beard was peppered across the bottom half of his face and his big, chocolate brown eyes were set in a permanent gentle smile. You committed the curves of his cheeks and regal nose to memory and allowed yourself to picture those brown eyes that night in bed as you lie awake.
You smiled to yourself like an idiot as you let your mind wander to places that pictured you, Mr. Miller and Sarah all happily laughing and smiling at some sprawling estate.
You silently begged yourself to find something wrong with him in the next coming days.
You have never acted this way about a man, ever. But, they had never piqued your interest even slightly.
Then, you silently hoped for a dream in which you and Mr. Miller were the main characters.
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Part 2 here!
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WE WILL SURVIVE
- - CHAPTER 5 - -
Graves x reader Description: Reader and Graves help a couple of troubled survivors during a stop at a gas station. Genre/Warnings: zombie apocalypse AU, Graves x reader, Ghost x fem!reader, survivor!reader,angst, depictions of suicide, gore, blood, violence, explicit language, weapons, mentions of death WC: 3.3k
My Masterlist
** Woah! Ch 5 is finally done??! This one is intense! Please, consider the trigger warnings before diving in. Originally, I was excited about this chapter but know I'm not too sure. This chapter definitely had the most drafts out of all of them. I think it's decent but, something feels like its missing, it may just need a bit more proofreading later when I've had more time to sit with it. However, for the sake of moving the story along I wanted to get it up ASAP. On the bright side GHOST IS BACK NEXT CHAPTER!! YAY!! Hopefully y'all aren't too mad at him. Enjoy.
If you'd like to be added/removed from the taglist please, let me know.
<< PART 1 / << PART 4
It was quiet from your place in the passenger seat. Only the engine's drone was heard as Phillip cruised down the road. By now, the city was far behind you, and the road narrowed down as you entered rural areas. Miles and miles of fields and farmlands surrounded you.
You sigh, leaning back a bit. Graves glances in your direction for a second before returning to the road.
"Good?"
Graves asked, keeping his question short. You let the silence linger a moment longer. It had been a couple of hours since one of you had broken the silence. It left your lips feeling heavy. It took extra effort to push out the words from your throat.
"Yeah."
Your voice came out crackly and hoarse. You cleared your throat before continuing.
"What's our plan?"
Your voice is soft. The hopelessness had caught up to you at some point in the silence. The fear, existential dread, it all swirled together in your head now that you had a chance to organize all the thoughts and feelings you'd been harboring.
What were you moving towards? Even Phillip couldn't answer that. There was no more meaning, no more goals. This life had been swallowed up by the infected. Nothing more than an aimless fight for survival.
Phillip could sense the sadness in your empty expression.
"Well... for now we need a gas station. After that... I don't know but, whatever it is we'll be okay."
His words carried a tinge of reassurance in them but, it felt empty. You couldn't fathom how anyone could view this situation as panning out 'okay'. There was living sure. Yet, what was left to live for?
"Hey."
Phillip's words pulled you from your thoughts.
"It's going to be okay."
You nod in response. Phillip was right. For however long you had left, you would be ‘okay’. The question was would you ever be more than that? Would the rest of this existence be a miserable fight for survival?
"I'm going to sleep."
The words left your lips but, you hadn't been sure where they’d come from. Phillip however only smiled.
"Alright."
You shifted in the seat crossing your arms over yourself and resting a foot on the dashboard. Phillip just kept his eyes forward on the road ahead as you closed your eyes.
When you woke from your nap the car had stopped. You felt a thin layer of sticky sweat coating your skin. The sun was in its early stages of setting, as the afternoon shifted into evening. You guessed it had to be about 4 o'clock by now.
Sitting up you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Phillip was standing in front of the car looking down at the hood. You pushed open the door immediately feeling the refreshing breeze as it blew past. It was a contrast from the still warmth inside the truck.
"Sleep well?"
Phillip teased. The passenger door shut with a thud. Broken asphalt crunched like gravel beneath your boots as you moved to stand beside him.
There was a map laying out on the hood.
"What’s this?"
You ask glancing over the busy-looking map.
"I'm looking for somewhere to fuel up. It shows a small station just ahead. Maybe another hour or so."
Phillip explained. You nod.
"Will we make it?"
You ask resting your hands on your hips. The question was valid, you’d been driving for hours, and it was unlikely this truck had a full tank of gas when he’d found it.
He starts to fold up the map.
"Yeah, we should. Let's hope there's gas when we get there, or we'll be doing a lot of walking."
You both head back inside but, as you climb back into the passenger seat Phillip passes the driver's door and peaks into the back instead. Your eyes scan the rearview mirror observing his actions. He seemed to be looking for something in his bag. As Phillip slides back into the passenger seat he hands you an open can. You peered into it,
"Peaches?"
You asked, eyebrow raised.
"You should eat something."
He says, starting up the truck.
"And what about you?"
Phillip shrugs.
"I can eat when we get to our stop. It's fine, go ahead."
The hour passes quickly. Graves pulls into the gas station and turns off the truck with a relieved huff.
"Alright, here we are,"
He gets out and you follow.
"Why don't you head inside, and I'll figure out how we can get some fuel."
He gently slaps your back encouragingly. Was he serious? He wanted you to go inside alone?
"Wait. You want me to clear it myself?"
The anxious pit settled in your stomach. You still weren't confident with your combat skills. It was different to be on a roof with a sniper but, on the ground with a knife?
"I-I don't know, I can't-"
"It's okay. Look, I'll be right behind you, okay?"
Phillip's words only slightly soothed the fear and anxiety. It was a more reassuring thought than being left completely alone. At least he would be there over your shoulder in case you got into trouble.
Finally, you nod and the both of you start towards the doors of the abandoned shop. You pulled the knife from your belt reaching for the door.
"Hold on."
Phillip's voice cut through the air. He quickly adjusts your grip on the knife.
"Stay sharp. And Keep tension here,"
His hand squeezed at your bicep.
"When you're going in blind, you should be prepared for anything."
He points down at your left foot.
"Widen your stance there, You want to be sturdy on your feet just in case there's any pushback."
With all the corrections made, Phillip steps aside.
"Alright."
He gestures for you to continue. Your anxiety had settled more now knowing that Phillip intended to teach you rather than throw you into the ring alone.
You push open the door. The windows had been boarded up from the inside leaving the shop musty and dark. Heavy breaths weighed down your chest as the floorboards creaked with every cautious step.
Phillip trailed behind you, his arms loose at his sides. He himself didn’t seem prepared at all for a fight. You didn't understand why he would trust you to protect him. Especially enough to leave his guard down.
You kept your head on a swivel making sure to take in every corner of the room.
"Don't just turn your head, turn your body with it. You have to have a strong stance. An attack could come from any direction."
You nod taking in his words. You shuffle your feet turning your body as you scan the room.
"Look for all the doors. You need to be aware of every exit, and every potential room every crevice is dangerous in a dark building."
You kept Phillip's instructions in mind counting each door. The door you'd entered through was one. A door in the far-right corner made two.
There were two more in the far-left corner. One is on the back wall, most likely leading outside, and the fourth is on the adjacent wall, which is labeled with a unisex bathroom placard.
"There is nothing here."
Your voice was low and laced with panic. Anticipation hung in the air as you waited for something to emerge from the darkness. Each creak and thump of your boot sounded louder with each step.
"Good, then we are clear."
Phillip says,
"Now, keep alert and move to the next room."
Phillip moved to the middle of the room to watch behind you as you continued forward to the first door. With shaky steps, you continued around the counter. Your chest tightened as you moved further into the shop, peering over the counter to make sure nothing lurked in the shadows.
"Hey Y/N... You're missing something."
You look at Phillip confused. He gestures to the entrance.
"The light from outside won't reach beyond the door. How do you plan to see if there are any threats?"
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. You'd been so caught up in the anxiety of having to take the lead in clearing the shop that you hadn't even thought of something as simple as bringing a flashlight into a dark room.
"Right."
You take out Ghost's dim flashlight once again and hold it in your free hand, keeping the knife sturdy in the other.
You twist the door nob opening it with a click. Returning to the tight stance Phillip had shown you. Shuffling forward, you used the toe of your boot to nudge open the door.
Behind the door was a small office. Equipped with a computer desk, a filing cabinet, and a few crates.
"Clear."
You call, Your voice tense. Willing your shaky legs to back out. You finished off clearing the rest of the shop. Fortunately, there had been nothing to fight off.
"See, that wasn't so bad huh?"
You shrug. Phillip's approach made sense. It was better for you to get more hands-on survival experience. Shooting stagnant bottles on a rooftop could only teach you so much but, what would have happened if something had been in the building?
"I guess not."
Phillip squeezes your shoulder.
"Go ahead and gather what you can. Anything edible, or useful. I'll be out back."
You nod as Phillip leaves through the back door in search of some way to fuel the truck.
The shop had seemingly been raided already but, you were able to find a few snacks, and sodas as well as a pack of batteries. You carried a plastic bag full of your findings to the truck and placed it in the back.
Phillip made his way around the building with two gas cans in hand. He places the gas cans in the bed of the truck securing them with a cord.
"Alright are you re-"
Phillip's question was cut off by the sound of a woman, her blood-curdling scream sent chills through your body.
"Shit."
He cursed under his breath before sprinting down the road.
"Wait!"
You called after him. Whatever was happening up ahead was bad but, staying behind felt even more terrifying. The thought of something happening to Phillip and you not being there to help? What would you even do with yourself?
“Phillip!”
You called as you began jogging after him.
The woman’s screams only grew louder. You could see a man beside Phillip, helping him fight off a couple of infected. You slowed down stopping just feet away from the scene.
The woman, the one whose screams you’d heard, kneeled in the grass beside the road. The front of her was stained with crimson. Lying limp over her lap was a little girl.
The girl's torso was mangled beyond recognition. Blood pooled in her mother's lap leaking into the yellow grass below.
You covered your mouth with your hands stifling a horrified cry as well as the bile that threatened to rise from your stomach. You were no stranger to the viscera present since the outbreak but, it had been a while since you'd witnessed something this graphic.
Phillip grunts as he plunges his knife into the last standing infected. He wiped his brow with his forearm and started towards the crying woman.
“She’s bit!"
Phillip exclaimed. A gasp left you at the site of the bite wound. The veiny infection had already begun to spread. It was one of those moments that you wished you could rewind and go back to before it happened. Like when you shatter a glass on the kitchen floor and hope to yourself that it wasn't true so you won't have to clean the mess.
"Y/n! Go get the first aid!”
Phillip ordered as he inspected the woman’s wounded arm. You could hardly process Phillip's words. You didn't know these people but something about the scene playing out before you brought up memories of your past. A painful reminder of how you'd ended up alone in the first place.
The man turned to you as you took a couple of hesitant steps backward.
“No! Please listen. You must leave!”
He pleaded, his accent thick.
"They are coming. You must go!"
You paused in your tracks,
“What?”
You begin to ask but he interjects.
"Here,"
The man’s shaky hands fidget in his pockets before pulling out a crumpled paper. He places the paper in your hand. You were unable to speak. Your mind was overloaded by the many things happening.
"Take it. Take it, there is a sanctuary. Please, please. You have to go! You have to go!”
The man was crying and frantic as he tried to usher Phillip away.
“We can help you!"
Phillip says trying to reason with the man. He didn't seem to care about the words Phillip spoke. You wondered if Phillip knew deep down, just like you, that his statement was empty. There really wasn't much you could do for them.
“We have a vehicle.”
He adds holding his hands up defensively.
“No. Go there! Be safe.”
The man cuts him off.
“My wife... She will die.”
The man admits gesturing to the woman. Phillip shakes his head,
“But you can still come.”
The man shakes his head backing away. He was adamant in refusing Phillip's offer.
“When I’ve lost them both, there is nothing there for me.”
His words hit you like a punch to the gut. He didn't want to live anymore without his family. It made you feel guilty for still continuing without yours. Glancing at Phillip you could see the mental turmoil he was feeling. On one hand, he wanted to help the couple in any way he could. However, a part of him understood the man's decision.
"Our daughter... she was tired. We thought we had time, the horde was far behind, so we rested, and camped for the night. But they had caught up."
The woman explains. Her voice breaks as she begins to cry again caressing her daughter's pale face. Your heart broke for the family.
Phillip thought for a moment. The man speaks before he can.
"Leave us. Go to the sanctuary, you can live."
Phillip nods looking at you with a blank expression. He turns to the man.
"Thank you."
Phillip starts back towards the gas station. You couldn't believe it. Was he really going to just leave? Of course, logically, you were aware that you served no purpose to this couple but, your empathy fought against this notion.
"Wait. No, Phillip, what are- we can't just leave them!"
"Yes Y/N, we can."
His tone was that of defeat. He'd given up.
"No!"
You turned and began to follow him.
"Phillip!"
He turned with an irritated sigh.
"Y/N! He made his decision. We can't do anything."
He snapped. Phillip had never acted this way. Ever since you'd first run into him, he'd been nothing but optimistic and willing to help. How could he choose now to betray his sense of humanity?
"We have to try!"
You pleaded. You morally couldn't bring yourself to just leave these people to die.
"No. It's done Y/N! He doesn't want to come."
You huffed, Phillip continued walking away. You turn to look at the couple. The man now kneeled beside his wife attempting to soothe her as she sobbed in his arms.
The trees rustled across the road. Hollow groans filled the air, and your heart leaped into your throat. Phillip stopped, whipping his head around.
Infected began to trickle out onto the road. Your eyes widened, and you reached for your knife.
"Phillip! Do something."
Phillip? Why couldn't you do something? You were well equipped. Was it your cowardice that held you back? Keeping you glued in place, unable to take action? He pushes you back and drives his knife into the closest head. The body drops to the pavement and Phillip grabs your arm.
"Let's go! Back to the truck."
You stumbled as he pushed you with him.
"Wait! Wait! What about them."
Phillip seemed annoyed that you were still fighting him on this. He glances between you and the couple with a frustrated groan. Although he wanted to just accept the man's decision to stay behind, he couldn't let you see him as some heartless fool either.
"Alright. Go! I'll catch up."
You nod turning and starting to run back to the truck. Phillip hurries to the couple, he pulls the pistol from his thigh double-checking it's loaded and ready to go, before placing it in the man's hand.
"Hold them off as long as you can. I'm sorry brother."
The man gives Phillip an appreciative nod. He aims the pistol firing a couple of shots. Phillip follows after you. More infected flood out of the tree line and onto the road.
Phillip's footsteps pounded behind you.
"Go! Go!"
You didn't need to be told again. You threw yourself into the passenger seat trying to catch your breath. A couple infected were trailing behind Phillip as he climbed into the driver's seat and started up.
You kept your hands out beside you to steady yourself as the truck wobbled with each sharp movement.
Phillip veered the truck to the left with a jolt. A body thudded against the hood as he attempted to Navigate through the horde.
The scene behind you was like a train wreck, you couldn't keep your eyes off the couple. The man holding his wife protectively behind them as they fought for their lives.
You watched on in horror as the woman screamed, being ripped away from her husband. He cried keeping his grip desperately tight on her hand. It was too late. They'd been surrounded. The infected wasted no time sinking their teeth into her back.
Phillip kept focused on the road. You flinched at the sound of a single gunshot going off once more ringing through the air. The haunting reality setting in as you'd just witnessed the man turn the gun on his own lover. Were you less courageous than him for turning your back on your family instead of fighting to the end like he had for his wife?
You finally looked away when you saw him put the barrel of the pistol to his own temple. His sad gaze aimed at the sky. Another shot. You winced, tears rolling down your cheeks. The guilt weighed heavily in your stomach. This new world was cruel and unforgiving.
The remaining daylight faded away over the horizon. Silence was the only thing in the air anymore. Phillip knew the events of this afternoon weren't sitting well with you. He wanted more than anything to say something, to take away the images replaying in your mind but, he knew better than anyone that there wasn't anything he could say to fix this.
As the moon took its place high in the sky Phillip decided to call it a night. He pulled over on the side of the road and got out of the truck. You glanced over emotionlessly as he moved the bags from the truck bed into the cab. He climbed back in locking the doors.
"It's been a long day. Let's get some sleep huh?"
You follow his lead as he leans back in his seat and gets comfortable. The cab wasn't very big, and with the bags, it was even more cramped.
"You know, there was nothing we could've done right?"
Phillip's voice was barely a whisper. His eyes were full of concern as they lingered on you.
"I know..."
You respond quietly. You'd gone back and forth on the matter in your head all night. You knew just as well, but the nagging voice in the back of your mind was convincing you otherwise. Phillip nods.
"He made his choice. All we could have done is respect it. There was no point in getting ourselves killed too."
His light eye bore into you from the driver's side. You met his gaze. Neither of you spoke. No more needed to be said at that moment. You understood Phillip's actions, and he understood your guilt. Both of you understood the situation for what it was and how complicated the morality of the problem could be.
"Goodnight."
You break the silence. Phillip sighs and gives you a small smile.
"Goodnight, Y/N."
PART 6 >>
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#cod au#zombie apocalypse au#graves x female reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#cod x reader#phillip graves#graves x reader#cod fanfic#simon riley x reader#cw: gore#cw: blood#cod mw3#mw2 x reader#mw2 fanfic#ghost mw2#alkaline writes#☑️mstlst
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König's Serious Phobias
I'm pretty stressed out because I'm moving, so I decided to write about König stressing out too! Yay! Anyways, let's go.
König has a complicated past. His childhood was filled with bullying, his adult life has been filled with bullets and bombs. He's been through too much for one man, honestly. The fact that he hasn't either become a hikikomori or a homicidal maniac is a miracle. I think the only reason we're safe is because he has a good family and he found good friends when he joined the military. However, he has scars. Not all of them are painted on his skin.
I've collected phobias that I think he might have into a list, however some of these fears are fears that though they impact him seriously, he can live with them and won't have a panic attack upon facing them. Fears that genuinely terrify him identified. His fears are ranked 1 through 5, with 1 being a fear that just makes him a bit wary/on edge, but he's not going to have a meltdown unless pushed or 5, a fear that can cripple him with just a brush.
Phobias are listed under the cut (also I got the fears from a list online, hence why they're mostly alphabetical)
1 Scopophobia: Fear of being watched
König grew up in a small, rural village surrounded by monsters in all shapes and sizes. Adults were cruel, children were monsters. He grew up being afraid of going out because he knew that everyone in the village saw him as the socially outcast freak. Every time he looked at people, he saw them looking at him with disdain. I think a lot of this is due to developing social anxiety, and so thus he became paranoid, but he did develop a fear of people watching him, judging him, following him with their eyes. He hates going out into the civilian world because of this.
1 Agorophobia: Fear of open spaces or crowds
König is scared of going out into crowds. Why? See phobia above. He can't stand being outside of a place he considers safe. Not in a 'I can't go on missions' way, but in a 'I don't want to go to a shopping mall' sort of way. On a mission, he's either alone or in combat. When he's in civilian life, he doesn't know how to turn the military brain off. He can't get it through his reptilian brain that he's safe, and he's okay, and no that person carrying a duffle bag is not actually carrying a hidden rifle, and no that person with a thick coat does not have a bomb under their clothes, and no that person who's walking towards him does not have a knife in their belt. He is safe. He knows this logically, but he can't stop his heart from racing. It's too loud, too hectic, too many things can go wrong too quickly.
5 Atychiphobia: Fear of failure
Do you know what failure means when you're on a mission infiltrating a cartel base? Failure means watching your teammates get blown apart by a bomb. Failure is watching your best friend fall down into a puddle of their own blood. Failure is getting a bullet between the ears. Failure is not an option in his world. When people make mistakes, don't check their surroundings properly, when someone dares to light up a cigarette at night in an open area, that's when people die. Remember this phrase when you go to smoke on a battlefield. The first light catches the sniper's attention, the second light he lines his sights, the third light he pulls the trigger. Mistakes cost lives when on the field.
1 Catagelophobia:Fear of being ridiculed
This one is pretty self explanatory. He's been bullied his whole life. He's pretty sick of it.
3 Cynophobia: Fear of dogs
König, due to working in missions that target gangs and domestic terrorist groups, has had the misfortune of seeing dogs being used against his own people. He's been attacked by a dog before himself. In combat, dogs are tools of terror. He's seen his own team use dogs, and he knows what they're capable of. You might see a fluffy German shepherd. He sees a dog that's torn peoples hands off. However! He does also like dogs when he meets them in public. He is not going to assume your dog is a killer, but if your dog growls, he won't dare touch that dog. He won't even get close. He's seen what dogs can do.
As mentioned before in this post, König's first reaction to fears he can see is to lash out. He will punch or kick without thinking. He doesn't even yell or gasp when he does it. It's just what he does. If you go to sneak up on him, you'd best be ready to dodge. He feels really bad about it, and he's been banned from 10 different haunted houses around the world.
For fears he can't physically lash out at, he will just keep an eye on things. OODA loop, you know? Observe, Orient, Decide, Act. That's going on in his head over and over again. If he's out in public, that's going on in the back of his head. If he sees a dog, he's going through multiple different scenarios and evaluating the likelihood of each possibility. Normally he's a quiet man, but he goes deathly quiet when he's afraid. If you notice him freaking out like this, it might be nice to ground him by getting his attention and then taking his hand, or distracting him from what he's thinking about. He might not say it until later, but he'll be thankful.
#writing#konig#cod konig#konig cod#konig call of duty#konig mw2#konig x reader#konig x you#Konig fluff#tw dogs#tw phobias#phobias#konig character analysis#character analysis#tw dog attack#cw dogs#cw dog attack#dog attack#agoraphobia#scopohobia tw#scopophobia#Atychiphobia#tw Atychiphobia#cw Atychiphobia#Catagelophobia#tw Catagelophobia#cw Catagelophobia#Cynophobia#tw Cynophobia#cw Cynophobia
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ill be honest ive always been kind of a pretentious snobby guy about the media i consume and would always be like "no im way too cool to watch greys anatomy or new girl" but i got addicted to greys during quarantine and watched some new girl too and now this stuffs kind of my guilty pleasure. i already love what youve put out so far and its so fun to indulge in it. im also a kind of rural southerner and nyc sounds SO out of my depth but its fun to read about from a local
Yay that makes me so happy :> I love that you’re a rural southerner because after over two decades in the city I yearn to move away and live far out on the countryside LOL
I try my best to make the New York City experience as authentically to mine as I can :> I’m sure other New Yorkers have tiny nitpicks or maybe can see the authenticity in it :> either way I’m glad & thanks very much!!! ❤️❤️
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Today: 700 cal limit while travelling 10hrs on a bus to go see my partner in the city (yay, rural living)
Tmr: Liquid fast while hanging with my partner and one of my best friends while walking around one of the biggest shopping center.
Both are at least partially aware of my disorder.
Chat, am I fucked?
Edit:
My partner is making me eat 2 meals a day.
Chat I am fucked
#tw ana bløg#ana y mia#⭐️ve#4norexla#tw ana rant#3d not sheeran#4nor3xia#light as a feather#tw ed ana#3ating d1sorder#anadiet#4n@diary#4n4blr
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hi again it's 🧷!
the last 24 hours have been a whirlwind. i laughed. i cried. i peed myself. but im a person who likes a little journey. i've been affirming my ass off bc that's what works for me and i'm already feeling so much more control and better about myself. so thank u for the reality check.
also i have some successes....
yesterday, i thought i had a uti bc a girl keeps drinking apple cider cocktails i fear. it's just too good and it’s the holidays. 😫😭 but i kept telling myself i don't have one bc no way am i dealing with antibiotics (and no me time) for 2 weeks. and when i went to urgent care bc i still was a bit anxious in the 3D yk how it is. but guess WHAT. I WAS NEGATIVE 🤩. so that was cool. and they gave me stickers even though im like 20 which was very sweet LOL.
also today, i manifested that the type of pasta i needed for thanksgiving wasn't gone. bc if ur on tiktok and you've seen tini's mac and cheese recipe. the stores r sold OUT of cellentani shaped pasta... and i live in a big city.... so i made my sister go out and get 2 boxes on her way home from her rural ass college and she texts me like "hey you'll never believe this there were 2 boxes left all the way at the back of the shelf where no one would see them" and i was like😮‼️
but omg i'm like. wow!!! yay!!! all it took was a decision!!! i'm still learning to trust myself but i'm never turning back again. i'm embracing my title as queen god boss bitch of reality, and that even when i have off days it doesn’t mean bad things bc shit always works in my favor no matter what!!
All it takes is a decision!!!!! Yes babe like wtf lke this is so easy for you bc it is you!!! I love these successes of yours babe. You better keep drinking them apple cider cocktails. Lemme get one rq actually.
Health, appearance, food, getting people to do what you want.... All these "types" of manifestations are easy bc they are all the same!! There is only one way to get what you want and that is by accepting you have it. period.
This is amazing and I'm so proud of you babe!!!
#🧷 anon#anon ask#itsrlymine#success story#loa success#law of assumption#imagination is reality#loa tumblr
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Thinking about the rural queer experience again. I can never truly go back to my hometown because most people there will misgender me all the time, no matter how I look. I can't live in a city because that's too stressful for me. I'm in a new rural community now, but I'm stealth there and I don't tell people I'm queer, so I'm basically back in the closet, which is rather isolating, even though I know who I am and where I stand, which is different from how it was in my teens. There's a city nearby where I can go for queer meetups etc, but I've yet to meet a group with which I really vibe. The trans group came close, but even they weren't my scene.
Then there's the thing that most offline queer spaces I know use "FLINTA" as a label more and more, which is supposed to be "inclusive" but actually means "everyone but cis men", and in practice the only spaces I've seen it used actually meant "women and nonbinary people" (including trans women, yay! and/but trans men only nominally). The last time I was in such a space I got misgendered all the time because everyone there assumed that any person who was there was aligned with womanhood so "she" was the default.
I don't get misgendered in my little village and volunteer community, because apparently nobody questions my gender there. It's a specific kind of masculinity that's prevalent there, the hardworking, sturdy and steady type. I don't quite fit in with that either, but well enough that I'm not questioned. In queer spaces, I feel I'm often seen as "in-between" genders even though I'm rather firmly (binary trans) male. Here, in the village, there's no concept of gender as a spectrum, and while the gender roles aren't as set as they used to be, there's still a firm line between men and women, which I know is a prison for those who aren't either, but for me it's actually a blessing. Here I come with all my knowledge of gender theory and understanding for nonbinary life experiences, and yet I don't talk about that, and I don't mention my own past/childhood, because the firm line between men and women actually affirms my own gender more than any queer scene in the city could so far. Getting to spend time with folks from these parts and being treated as one of the guys is SO gender affirming for me personally, it feels like finally I don't have to prove myself.
It reminds me of a trans woman from the city's trans meetup who said that the place that gets her the most misgendering are queer parties, while backwater villages are mostly fine because people see a person in a dress and think "woman".
While I truly feel at home here, my experience as someone who was a gay girl who grew up to be a man is still unique and something I don't share, even though I've been dealing with it for more than half my life and it deeply influenced my worldview and politics and how I interact with the world. It's like this secret identity that new people don't get to unlock that easily, which again is isolating with regards to my sexuality, because that IS very queer.
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HLMCOctober Day one!
Day one: Let us know about your MC's! If you're new here hiiiii. I'm Matty and my MC is, well, Matty. It's confusing I know but we vibe with it. 😂
If you don't know, this is Matty. If you do know yay!!! (more stuff under the cut)
Matthew "Matty" Loraine Ambrose is an Irish muggleborn born on April 26th, 1875. She was named after her paternal grandfather "Matthew" and just adopted the nickname "Matty" quick after her birth. She loves her name because she finds it unique for herself and also because its a way she can connect with the grandfather she never got to meet.
She lived on the outer part of Dublin, more towards the port. However, she often left the city to visit her paternal grandmother who lived more out in the rural areas.
She grew up as a very free child who was outside almost 24/7 but her parents also ensured that she had a proper and good education. In the muggle world, girls attending school was still relatively new where they were and her parents wanted to ensure that they're daughter got the education she deserved. And it paid off. When Matty was seven, her and her parents loved to London so her father could pursue a job opportunity.
She met her best friend, Hope, who was her neighbor there. And she attended school there as well. It wasn't until she was fifteen years old and Professor Fig came to her home, telling her that she was a witch and that she had been accepted into Hogwarts.
You guys pretty much know the rest from there lol so let's speed through some stuff that happens after that.
Her sixth year she gets into Quidditch and she also gets into a relationship with her fellow classmate, Sebastian. Her seventh year is wild but hey now she's the Quidditch Captain and oh now you also gotta worry about NEWTS. Her NEWTS come back and she does well, allowing her to pursue her career in the Auror force. At nineteen, she moves out of her families house and to Feldcroft so she can live with Sebastian. She starts her Auror training weeks later and later that year also gets engaged.
She finishes her Auror training and officially becomes an Auror at twenty-two and get's married after she turns twenty-three. And later has five kids. She enjoys her career and job very much but she's dedicated to her family above anything else and she doesn't let anything stop her from that.
thank you for reading!! <33
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actually i have been meaning to ask you... if you would tell me all your thoughts about Dracula and Landlordism 🙂
well!!! okay! whew yeah alright! let's do thissssss 🧛🏻♂️ i wrote an actual paper about this in grad school but... alas... i can'T FIND IT !! so here are some insane and incoherent thoughts i have cobbled together. it's, uh, long:
so. here's a bunch of stuff:
we know bram stoker was irish (anglo-irish, technically, but he was born and spent his first 30 years in dublin). his mother was from sligo - she herself was a writer/activist, and she published a record of the 1830s cholera outbreak in western ireland (it's argued by some that even this piece of writing + theories of public health partly inspired dracula... more on that later!).
but also! bram stoker was a sickly kid and spent a lot of his early childhood bedridden. during those long days stuck in bed, his mother told him irish folk stories and other tales. he later said that his illness "gave opportunity for many thoughts which were fruitful according to their kind in later years."
some theorists have written that he would have heard stories like this:
from an early irish legend, abhartach was said to be a demonic tyrant who terrorized parts of derry. the locals tried to kill him with the help of a chieftan - but he kept returning night after night with increasing violence (later versions of the myth say that he demanded blood from villagers to sustain him, but this is a more modern addition). a druid said that abhartach had to be killed and buried in a very specific way (upside-down, for one) in order to stay dead. and this worked! the people were free! yay! spooky!
charlotte stoker also lived through the famine (she moved to dublin after marrying in 1844, bram was born in 47), a pretty bleak fucking period in history. while she was in the city, her family remained in the stricken west. there are folk tales from that time that involve menacing undead who would drink the blood of the poor and dying as they slept - this is likely inspired by the actual famine practice of mixing animal blood with oatmeal to supplement starving diets.
then you have ACTUAL family history! bram stoker's great uncle, george blake, took part in the 1798 rebellion of the united irishmen (wolfe tone, etc.) and was executed for his part in leading 1500 irishmen against the crown. another branch of his family, the o'donnells, were involved in the gaelic revival movement. charlotte's cousin richard o'donnell facilitated the donation of gaelic artifacts (the psalter of st. columbcille) to the royal irish academy.
some of these influences hold more weight than others, and so far this has little to do with landlordism BUT i do think it sets a precedent for stoker to be influenced by and concerned with irish matters. stoker was always interested in irish affairs, even if he didn't always come to the conclusions i wanted him to 😂 still, combined with his early career in the irish civil service and as a critic of irish theatre.... despite the fact that the novel was written in london, with obvious influences of the empire, i really do think there are some elements of the novel that are quite irish.
so! landlordism. what's going on in ireland in the latter half of the 19th century? this is a period of major agitation in the lead up to the revolutionary decade in the early 20th century. the main conversation here is about LAND. ireland is hugely rural and agrarian at this time:
in 1841, 4/5 of the irish population lived in villages with fewer than 20 houses
meanwhile, by 1870, 50% of the land on the island was owned by just 700 families - many of whom did not live in ireland
between 1850 and 1870, landlords collected 340 million pounds in rent, and reinvested just 5% back into the irish economy
so in the late 1870s, the irish land league is formed. the land league's goal was land reform - they wanted irish people to have the right to own the land they worked on. they used rent stikes and boycotts - and sometimes intimidation and violence - to achieve reform (1881 land act did restrict rights of landlords). under charles stewart parnell, they also succeeded in extending the right to vote to many agrarian workers. the land league soon became the national league, which pushed for home rule and other economic reforms beyond the land.
what's funny is that the land/national league agitators were themselves depicted as vampires in contemporary criticism - in order to paint the league as a secretive, sinister force that could disrupt imperial stability and suck the life of the irish colony. look at that poor damsel:
that bat even has the face of parnell 😭
so!!! the land!!!! is a constant thread in irish revolutionary activity. the 1916 proclamation declared "the right of the people of ireland to the ownership of ireland and to the unfettered control of irish destinies, to be sovereign and indefeasible." the irish revolution was in many ways a socialist revolution, and the right to LAND was a huge part of their goals. this is also seen in literature of the period, no matter the perspective - there are constant references to soil, earth, environment, and land.
so....... dracula. here is an aristocrat who not only drinks and lives off the lifeblood of people, but also literally removes soil from the land and brings it to england with him so he can live. the ultimate absentee landlord - and a poor one, too. like the ascendency class he may well be based on, dracula continues to drain people of life and resources while his ability to retain his fortune grows weaker (perhaps a nod to reform?). this has been read by some scholars as a depiction of a class that is losing its grip on power, unable to adapt to a changing social and economic landscape. there's also van helsing's constant reference to their plan of campaign/attack, etc. in describing their hunt of dracula... this is curious in that even though it was certainly a commonly used phrase, it's also a direct reference to a specific strategy by the land/national league against landlords in the late 1880s.
then you have the similarities between the eastern question and the irish question.... basically two anxiety-ridden issues from the imperialist point of view on "what to do" with the ottoman empire and the ireland as a colony. as these regions are beset by economic decline... war..... nationalist rebellion.... the question becomes "how do we fix this AND maintain power over people and land?"
we do have to remember that while stoker grew up hearing distinctly irish stories of folklore, rebellion, and famine, he was still a member of the anglo-irish class: he was not writing from an anti-colonial perspective, nor did he hold much anglo-irish guilt for his status. stoker was concerned with irish affairs, but he was never a nationalist. he was instead known to write off both militant fenianism and british landlordism as damaging.
stoker labeled himself as a "philosophical home ruler," meaning he, in theory, supported irish home rule if achieved through peaceful means. he supported irish self-government as internal autonomy - as a monarchist, he believed that ireland should remain in the british empire. stoker was a protestant, even if a liberal one, which also put him at odds with a largely catholic ireland.
so while we can (and i do!!) read the irish political influences here, what stoker himself was more concerned with was the idea of modernity, and he felt like both national and capitalist allegiances held people back from progress.
stoker was hugely interested in medicine as a way to advance progress. there is an anxiety here about infection. back up to charlotte stoker's record of the cholera outbreak in sligo - 10% of the town's population died. it was bram stoker who suggested that his mother write her history of the outbreak - where she noted that the illness came from ships and then infected people as it moved over the land... just like dracula. many cholera victims, nearly dead but still undead, loaded up with morphine and waiting to pass, were burned or buried alive. stoker was said to be morbidly interested in this... the idea of being buried in the earth before being truly dead. the original title of the novel was the undead, before stoker settled on dracula.
i had a whole thing about medicine written out here but i have veered so far away from landlordism that i am going to shut up. i just think that what stoker is messing around with here is a massively changing world, with conflict and advancement alike. landlordism is an obvious influence, but i think it goes hand in hand with an overall sense of: the order as we know it is crumbling.
this pairs well with contemporary anxieties about race, sexuality, and gender.... but that's another post altogether. there are also obvious influences of eastern european history at play here as well, and if i had another post in me i would get into that too!
this is all to say that there is nO WAY stoker didn't have at least some thought of land and empire - mixed with anxiety about the future as modernity and a new century rapidly approaches... a very victorian concern! what makes societal progress - power, knowledge, capital??? everyone at this time seemed to have a different answer!
shut up mel!
#i am...... so sorry#i basically rewrote that paper in here#there are tons of footnotes and disclaimers to be had here#but i don't think i am getting graded on this asdfhj#if you would like sources i will send you the PDFs lmao#mel answers
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