You know what I realize that people underestimate with Pride & Prejudice is the strategic importance of Jane.
Because like, I recently saw Charlotte and Elizabeth contrasted as the former being pragmatic and the latter holding out for a love match, because she's younger and prettier and thinks she can afford it, and that is very much not what's happening.
The Charlotte take is correct, but the Elizabeth is all wrong. Lizzie doesn't insist on a love match. That's serendipitous and rather unexpected. She wants, exactly as Mr. Bennet says, someone she can respect. Contempt won't do. Mr. Bennet puts it in weirdly sexist terms like he's trying to avoid acknowledging what he did to himself by marrying a self-absorbed idiot, but it's still true. That's what Elizabeth is shooting for: a marriage that won't make her unhappy.
She's grown up watching how miserable her parents make one another; she's not willing to sign up for a lifetime of being bitter and lonely in her own home.
I think she is very aware, in refusing Mr. Collins, that it's reasonably unlikely that anyone she actually respects is going to want her, with her few accomplishments and her lack of property. That she is turning down security and the chance keep the house she grew up in, and all she gets in return may be spinsterhood.
But, crucially, she has absolute faith in Jane.
The bit about teaching Jane's daughters to embroider badly? That's a joke, but it's also a serious potential life plan. Jane is the best creature in the world, and a beauty; there's no chance at all she won't get married to someone worthwhile.
(Bingley mucks this up by breaking Jane's heart, but her prospects remain reasonable if their mother would lay off!)
And if Elizabeth can't replicate that feat, then there's also no doubt in her mind that Jane will let her live in her house as a dependent as long as she likes, and never let it be made shameful or awful to be that impoverished spinster aunt. It will be okay never to be married at all, because she has her sister, whom she trusts absolutely to succeed and to protect her.
And if something eventually happens to Jane's family and they can't keep her anymore, she can throw herself upon the mercy of the Gardeners, who have money and like her very much, and are likewise good people. She has a support network--not a perfect or impregnable one, but it exists. It gives her realistic options.
Spinsterhood was a very dangerous choice; there are reasons you would go to considerable lengths not to risk it.
But Elizabeth has Jane, and her pride, and an understanding of what marrying someone who will make you miserable costs.
That's part of the thesis of the book, I would say! Recurring Austen thought. How important it is not to marry someone who will make you, specifically, unhappy.
She would rather be a dependent of people she likes and trusts than of someone she doesn't, even if the latter is formally considered more secure; she would rather live in a happy, reasonable household as an extra than be the mistress of her own home, but that home is full of Mr. Collins and her mother.
This is a calculation she's making consciously! She's not counting on a better marriage coming along. She just feels the most likely bad outcome from refusing Mr. Collins is still much better than the certain outcome of accepting him. Which is being stuck with Mr. Collins forever.
Elizabeth is also being pragmatic. Austen also endorses her choice, for the person she is and the concerns she has. She's just picking different trade-offs than Charlotte.
Elizabeth's flaw is not in her own priorities; she doesn't make a reckless choice and get lucky. But in being unable to accept that Charlotte's are different, and it doesn't mean there's anything wrong with Charlotte.
Because realistically, when your marriage is your whole family and career forever, and you only get to pick the ones that offer themselves to you, when you are legally bound to the status of dependent, you're always going to be making some trade-offs.
😂 Even the unrealistically ideal dream scenario of wealthy handsome clever ethical Mr. Darcy still asks you to undergo personal growth, accommodate someone else's communication style, and eat a little crow.
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i may or may not be planning a fic where one of the many subplots is that Jason (as Red Hood, but Danny already knows) is following/investigating Danny because he thinks Danny’s dangerous somehow. I won’t go into the details because it’s so much, but point is i have a silly little scene in my head wherein Danny goes out to work on a uni group project with Tim, and on their way to the cafe some asshole car hits a guy on a motorcycle. The Biker goes into a rage and starts cursing him out, takes off his helmet and lo and behold it’s Jason.
Mid-verbal fight with the asshole he catches sight of Tim (recording the whole thing and waving at Jason) and of Danny (potential danger he’s been investigating for nearly two weeks), and Jason gives the asshole a “this isn’t over” threat and dips. Then,
Tim, who noticed Danny’s reaction: You know that guy?
Danny: Oh, yeah, that’s my stalker. You?
Tim: Nemesis. I’m sorry he’s your what?
Bonus:
Tim texting Jason: are you stalking my classmate??
Jason: Mind your own business, Replacement.
Jason: Wait, did he tell you that?
Tim: yah
Jason: RH’s been investigating him. Why the FUCK does your “classmate” think it’s me?
Tim: dick is gonna love this. the great rh has a containment breach
Jason: DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE TELL HIM REPLACEMENT
Tim: LMAO fuck it we BALL
Jason: TIM
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(ETA: now edited and up on AO3)
Look. Eddie knows he can be a little uptight about these things, but. There are rules. If you become a vampire, you don’t need to go full gothic Count Von Dickhead or whatever, but you absolutely cannot just wander around in a puffy vest and light-wash jeans.
“Why not?” says Steve. He’s leaning back in an armchair, sipping on a bloodbag like it’s a goddamn juicebox. “What, are the vampire police going to arrest me?”
He pauses. “Wait. There aren’t vampire police, are there?”
“No,” says Eddie. “Probably not. I don’t know. But there are standards which you are refusing to uphold, Steven.”
“Thought you were all about hating conformity, Edward,” Steve says. He’s got an obnoxiously cocky little smirk, the smug undead fucker.
Eddie grimaces. “Don’t call me that, asswipe. Don’t you feel, like—the call of the night? The siren song of life coursing through fragile human veins? A hunger for destruction that those paltry plastic bags of blood can never truly slake?”
“The bloodbags aren’t so bad,” says Steve, around the straw. “Better than protein shakes.”
“I actually hate you,” Eddie tells him. “Vampirism is wasted on you.”
Steve noisily slurps the last of the blood out of the bottom of the bag. “Come on, you can’t really picture me in some Dracula getup, can you?”
The problem, of course, is that Eddie really, really can. When Robin had read him in on the whole situation, obviously he’d been horrified and concerned—but also, a whole wing of his brain had immediately been cordoned off to work overtime imagining Steve in elaborate Dark Prince regalia, maybe leaning elegantly out of a castle window on the moors, gazing into the foggy dusk. Velvet might’ve been involved.
“...guess not,” says Eddie. It doesn’t sound incredibly convincing to his own ears, but Steve just shrugs and gets up to throw the bloodbag away.
“There you go, man,” he says, clapping Eddie on the shoulder as he passes. “It’s the 80s. Vampires can be whatever we wanna be.”
———
It gets way too easy to forget about Steve’s condition, until Eddie ends up having to haul him out of a bar in Indy before they get banned for life.
“Simmer down, buddy,” Eddie says, pulling him into the shadow of the van. “Let’s get those fangs packed away before any of the nice villagers wander by with torches and pitchforks.”
“I’m good,” pants Steve. “It’s all good. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
Eddie lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “Sure, that’s why your eyes are glowing red and you’re, like, fully vamped out. Which, by the way, looks extremely dumb with the whole clean-cut vibe you decided to rock tonight.”
“Fuck you, I look great,” says Steve, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s not wrong, it’s just not relevant to how he also looks extremely dumb like this, wearing a pristine henley with fangs hanging out in the parking lot for anyone to see.
“So what the hell happened in there, man? I was finally starting to get somewhere with Todd, and…” Eddie trails off in dawning realization.
“Holy shit, am I—I’m like your territory, aren’t I? Your stupid vampire brain got all screwy and decided to loop me in with Robin and the kids as part of your freaky human coven.”
“Uh,” says Steve. He looks unhappy in a shifty kind of way. “Something like that, maybe.”
“Wait, so, are Nancy and Jonathan—are you okay with them because they’re both already in the vamp pack? Is Vickie gonna have to be inaugurated before she and Robin can bone down?” Eddie perks up. “Shit, is there a ceremony? We could totally do a ceremony.” He bets he can get the kids to liberate some velour curtains from the drama club. With a few candles, they could get some serious atmosphere going.
“No, shut up, nobody’s doing a damn ceremony,” Steve groans. “Vickie’s fine.”
“Okay,” says Eddie. “So…you gonna tell me what all that was about, then? Do I have to start running guys past you first so your vamp instincts don’t wig out? Or…hm, maybe Argyle’d be down to mess around sometime.”
Steve lets out an actual snarl with weird animal echoes, then claps a hand over his mouth.
“Sorry,” he says, muffled. The shadows around them seem darker somehow.
“So I’m just not allowed to get laid ever again,” says Eddie slowly. “For vampire reasons.”
“Do whatever you want, man.” Steve’s still got his hand pressed tight over his mouth.
“And it’s…just me?” Eddie peers at the tightness around Steve’s eyes; the way he’s scowling stubbornly at his feet. “Huh. Kind of…possessive, Harrington.”
“It’s—weird,” says Steve miserably, dropping his hand at last. “I know it’s fucking weird.”
“Maybe.” Eddie shrugs, biting down on the grin he can feel tugging at his mouth. “Lucky for you, I’m into that shit.”
“What?” Steve frowns. “You’re…”
“Always wanted a vampire boyfriend,” says Eddie. “Like, are you kidding? I would’ve sold my fucking soul at 15 for something like that.”
“I’m starting to feel a little objectified here,” says Steve, but he’s smiling, and he reaches out to snag Eddie’s belt loop and tug him stumbling closer. “Just in it for the fangs, huh?”
“Well, you’re kind of a shitty vampire, actually.” Eddie drapes his arms over Steve’s shoulders. “So I guess I must just be in it for you.”
Steve hesitates, searching Eddie’s face. Stray red lights are still sparking like embers in Steve’s irises. “Okay, but—you’re in it? Right?”
“Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, Bunnicula. I’ll send the vampire police after you, just watch me,” says Eddie, and kisses him.
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"I'm disappointed in you."
There are times in your relationship with Nanami where you feel like you're dating a forty year old father rather than a twenty eight year old sorcerer, now is one of them. You set your cup of tea down and inch closer to him on the couch, having been through this many times before."You always say that."
He sighs, "you always disappointed me."
You laugh and place your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arm around his firm bicep. He smells like jasmines and white grapes, your favorite deodorant, one you've been using before you even met. Ever since you introduced him to it, he hasn't been anywhere without smelling like jasmines, without smelling like you. You bury your nose in his suit to take it in, humming against his shoulder.
"A bad grade isn't the end of the world babe." You speak, craning your neck to look up at him through your lashes, hoping that your allure would be enough to get him to abandon the grade report paper— the damn paper that's stealing all his attention right now. How'd you lose to a piece of paper?
"I know," he sighs, again, "but I specifically helped you with this subject. Was my aid not sufficient? Do you need a private tutor?"
His voice shouldn't be so raspy and sexy when he's scolding you like a disappointed father, but it is, and you can't do anything about it except pretend to show remorse so he can kiss you breathless when he's done.
"No, you're good enough, baby. I just made a few dumb mistakes on the final, don't worry about it." You kiss his cheek, wrapping your arms around his neck. One of his arms comes up to wrap around your waist and you internally cheer at the small win.
"I see. You'll do better next time, then?" He turns to look at you and your faces become so close that you can feel his warm breath against your lips,your stomach aches with desire to close the gap. Mindlessly, you nod, "mhm."
"Good," his eyes move down to your lips and your heart skips a few beats in anticipation, "then I trust you're ready for punishment if you don't improve next time?"
The word punishment when he's so close sets your nervous system on fire, you feel your breathing accelerate, your response comes out breathless. "You can do anything you want to me Ken, I'm all yours."
He smiles slowly, "anything?"
"Anything."
"Good," he pauses, "next time you get a bad grade, we'll be sleeping in separate beds."
It takes you a minute to process what he said and leave the lavender haze you were so conveniently drowning in a few minutes ago, but the shift in tone doesn't stop there. The arm around your waist retracts and you feel like the carpet's been pulled out from under your feet, he looks back at the report card.
"It's truly a shame that I put so much effort into helping you and you lost so many marks over dumb mistakes." He stands up and you're left leaning on air. "I expected better from you," he shakes his head in disapproval, making his way to your bedroom.
Your mind is malfunctioning but you slowly realize he's about to lock himself in, effectively prohibiting you from your daily Nanami dose. You stand up immediately, stumbling over the couch as you try to regain balance.
"Wait nanami, babe, wait, where are you going!"
He continues walking as you trail after him, he actually starts speed walking, you have to start running. "I'm leaving you alone to reflect on your actions, maybe that'll make you rethink when you're making dumb mistakes."
"Oh my god, Kento," you catch up to him, pulling on his blazer like a desperate child, "when I said I wanted you to be my daddy I didn't mean like this."
He finally stops and turns to look at you, you can see a rare smile on his face, maybe even a hint of teasing.
"Well it's a full package," he wraps his arms around you again and you sigh in relief, "you either take it all or leave it."
You pout and poke his chest, "you're so mean to me." He kisses your forehead, the smile he kisses you with causing a warm tingle in your chest, "I'm only disciplining you my love. I go too easy on you sometimes."
You rest your chin on his chest, wrapping your arms around him as you look up, "I like it when you're easy on me though."
He laughs, a low rare sound that rings inside your shared apartment, a sound you don't think he produces outside of these walls, and the deep vibrations it sends from his chest to yours makes your heart sing. The sight of his laughing face, the kindness in his eyes, the sweet taste of his lips that you know you'll get to try every day from here till forever— you love nanami kento, and everything is alright.
"I know," he plants a soft peck on your lips, pulling up to admire your face before he goes in for a full kiss, making the teasing all worth it, "I know, my love."
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