#I hate charles dickens

[vampiricnature]

Being a theatre kid is hard btw. I've been here for only 2 hours and for the past four days I haven't been able to get rid of the British accent. Hi guys, I love being the ghost of Christmas yet to come

[cursemewithyourkiss]

Or maybe you're just too online. Personally I cried happy tears when David Copperfield and Agnes Wickfield finally got together.

[megane-sama]

So in the spirit of Christmas, im rereading a Charles Dickens Christmas collection i read obsessively as a child and the first is obviously A Christmas Carol and my god Ebenezer "Broke bitches should never laugh" Scrooge is way more sassy than I remembered XD

[featureenvyproductions]

Going to forever keep advertising my shit with tropes because do I have to? No. Am I too "stupid" to do it another way? No, not really. And as you've all seen, I also am perfectly capable of writing real blurbs and do write real blurbs. But I think it's fun to make the pic with the tropes anyway and have that around too. And also it keeps the pretentious people away. The sort who don't understand reading is not always for taking a "discomfort" vitamin because they A) are privileged enough to not have discomfort every day of their life to need to escape from or B) are fresh out of college and haven't discovered the joys of/have been shamed OUT of reading as a fun low pressure thing they can do to escape when they're fucking tired (and they think this sort of thing is new with fanfic and not more or less how "trash" lit like romance novels are marketed), as opposed to reading as some sort of Moral Duty To Be Deep that was instilled in them by a middle aged straight white English professor who thinks one can fulfill this by writing 10 pages about books where people scream at each other, have affairs with young women, or Make Up A Guy to warn people about things that Could Happen (that *cough* already happen to marginalized people *cough*) Anyway it's my version of a scarecrow. Firing shots to keep the rent low. Come take a seat next to me in the dumpster my fellow raccoons.

[thefabelmans2022]

checked my bank account and had a heart attack thinking i'd been the victim of identity fraud but no it's just christmas.

[iishmael]

I just changed my reading goal for this year to 100 books 🤯 I’ve been too scared to do it so far bc I don’t want to end up having to lower it back down… but… I would really really love to hit it 😂 I don’t know when I’ll have this much time to read again, with my phd starting in September sooo… essentially I need to bang out the majority of these books in the next month 😂

[gayest-classiclit]

ROUND 1 SIDE A: LOSERS BRACKET

propaganda below!!

for grantaire, see #propaganda: grantaire

for sydney:

[verecunda]

Opening not with the young Pip being accosted by Magwitch on the Kentish marshes, but Fionn Whitehead's older incarnation contemplating suicide, it recalls Knight's bold 2019 reimagining of A Christmas Carol. Extrapolating intelligently, sometimes contentiously from the text, it ventures into areas dark enough that even Dickens might have felt constrained from exploring, whether it's the language, sadomasochism, opium addiction or mental illness.

Radio Times feature on the Beeb’s new Great Expectations

Welp, guess I won’t be watching this one.

I just... can we please stop GOT-ifying or Peaky Blinders-ifying or whatever-the-fuck-this-is-ifying Dickens? Please? Not everything has to be relentless gritty grey-toned drudgery.

Also... Dickens did explore things like opium addiction and mental illness? Quite a bit, actually. Like, John Jasper is right there.

And I’m struggling to even think where you’d get sadomasochism out of Great Expectations. All I can come up with is Herbert, who seems to enjoy being beaten up a little bit too much. :P

*mumblegrumble*

[aliceig]

I love talking to people that dont know jack shit about classic literature because I can tell them that Charles Dicken’s novels suck ass (because they do) and they will be like “okay yeah ig” and I get to recruit yet another Dicken’s disliker

[cursemewithyourkiss]

I hate the modern perspective on classic literature sooo much. No Sydney and Charles from A Tale of Two Cities do Not have homoerotic vibes and the story would not work better if they were gay instead what the fuck.

[twinge-of-cosmicangst]

Fanny Dorrit gotta be one of the most unbearable siblings in literature

[unovni]

things i gotta do tomorrow!

microdose

buy weed

[wildernessfaery]

charles dickens can suck my dick.

[moonlight22oa]

me, posting my multichap on ao3 weekly: just like charles dickens....

[idwt-money]

Cabin Fever

MDNI 18+

1.8k words Noah Sebastian x fem!reader

CW: age gap, unprotected sex

(In my head, Noah is in his late 40s for this fic!)

It was cold and snowy outside. It was mid-winter and your dad, Joakim, thought it'd be a good idea to go out to his cabin in Washington. None of you expected it to snow this much, but nonetheless, it did.

You tried telling him over and over that it wasn't a good idea, but the stubborn man he was, you and the band packed your bags and made the trip.

You all lived in LA, so the trip wasn't horrible, but it was undoubtedly cramped. you were squished between Noah and Nicholas.

Nicholas was considerably tall compared to you, but Noah was a giant. A giant with spider-like legs.

“Noah move your legs!”

“I'm really trying! There's not much space here!!” Noah whined as Nicholas laughed at your bickering.

Without saying, it was a long ride. You all had to stop at a hotel somewhere in Oregon because it was all too much for the group.

The day you arrived, the snow was already falling but your dad assured everyone it wouldn't get too bad.

In his defense, it did stop…until that night. It was ankle by the time you all woke up. That's when Jokiam and the Nick's went out to get a ton of groceries.

You were invited, but you denied. You loved the cold, but the snow made your pants wet and it was never something you enjoyed.

“Well, if you're staying here, Noah is staying with you.”

“What?! Dad, I'm literally 20! I don't need a babysitter.

Your father went on about how you shouldn't look at it as babysitting. More as someone to “keep you safe” just in case.

You rolled your eyes. It wasn't like you hated Noah. It was quite the opposite. You didn't trust yourself around Noah.

His tattooed muscles and deep voice was enough to send you into a frenzy. It made your cunt soaked and your knees weak.

Your dad left before you could protest once again.

“Well, looks like it's just me and you, y/n.” Noah said, his arms dropping to his side.

You sighed and went up the wooden stairs that led to your room.

“Don't look so happy about it!” He chuckled from the living room.

You smacked against your bed, letting out a sigh and covered your face.

You decided to busy yourself with reading one of the multiple books you brought with you.

You had picked up “A Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens. It truly was a classic, but you hadn't read it before.

About 30 pages in and you noticed the sun starting to set. You had called your dad, wondering where he and the other guys had gone and what was taking so long.

“The road is blocked. We tried going around, but it looks like we'll have to get a hotel for the night. Sorry, hun. We'll be back as soon as possible.”

“So I'm here. Alone. With Noah?”

“Honestly, I'm not sure what your problem is with him! He's nice, y/n.”

After conversing (bickering) for a couple more minutes, your dad had to go.

You knew you'd have to go tell Noah. You were already changed into your pajamas and just wanted the night to end so your body and mind wouldn't have to go through the torture of being alone with him.

Being alone with his warm body..his cologne, which you could smell every time you walked passed him. His fingers, his hair…

You shook your head, ridding the thoughts from your conscience as you walked down the stairs, you heard him giggling at his phone.

His hair was long and gorgeous, it was all put up into a claw clip. You would have stood there and appreciated him from afar forever if he didn't notice you.

“Oh, um, Noah, my dad and the guys are stuck because of the storm. They're getting a hotel for the night and- AH!!”

Your eyes went wide as the lights in the house shut off.

“Fuck. It's okay, y/n. It's just the storm.”

Noah found his way to you, pulling your shaking and anxious body into his arms.

You were terrified of the dark. This was the worst possible scenario to find yourself in. You took in Noah's scent. His cologne was soothing.

“I have to find some..fucking, like..candles or some shit.”

You laughed at his tone. He sounded so clueless, like he was wracking his brain trying to figure out what to do.

“Here, take my phone, use the flashlight until I'm back. You gunna be okay, angel?” His hand caressed your face as he sat you down on the couch.

You nodded and took in what he just said. Angel? He had never called you any pet names before. You figured it was just the situation, possibly making him more sympathetic towards you.

You heard him rummaging through boxes as you sat on the couch. It was so fucking cold, you couldn't help but shiver. You had a sweater on but you could feel the coldness seep in through the fabric.

“Okay, I have candles set up in both of our rooms. We can hang out together until you are ready to go to bed. Sound good?” His voice was low and seemingly sounded caring.

It almost made your heart flutter. He took your hand and you stuck to him like a magnet. He must have felt you shiver against him in the process, because he helped you under the covers once you reached his room.

The candles helped tremendously, the room was lowly visible, it was better than the pitch black of the living room.

He crawled under the blanket with you.

“Noah? You don't-”

“Shut up…you're cold. That's all.”

You nodded and sighed as his arms wrapped around you. His hand came up, petting your hair.

You both started small talk. It was comfortable, not awkward and weird like it was with other people.

You looked up at him.

“I guess I am kinda glad you stayed here with me..” You gave him a sheepish smile.

“Oh yeah? You better be.”

Your body was warm now, no need to be in the position you were in, other than the factor of comfort.

Something switched in his eyes, as it did with yours. Your thoughts were once again running wild.

This is wrong. This is so wrong. He's twice your age, he's your dads friend. Your friends would consider him an old man for god's sake!

There was a burning deep in your stomach. Somehow, you understood that Noah felt it too. Your hands, which were once curled up into your chest, now rest upon Noah's bare chest.

You weren't sure when he took it off, but you didn't have any reason to complain. You were subconsciously tracing the lines of his tattoos. Noah pulled you closer and lowered his hand, now resting on your hip.

Your hand felt every dip and curve of his skin as it went up to cradle his face.

“I don't wanna sleep alone tonight..” You whispered, only loud enough for him to hear as if others were in the house.

He looked your face up and down before softly pressing your lips together. The kiss was intense and hot while at the same time, soft and sweet. Your lips intertwined together felt so right. Like this is where you were supposed to be.

You pulled away, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“You don't have to, angel.” He smiled before connecting your lips once more.

Your arms wrapped around his neck. This kiss wasn't like the last one. It was hungry and needy. Your tongues danced together and you pushed yourself against his body, wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible.

His hands dipped into your sweatpants, grasping at your ass. His hands were so warm, like fire on your skin.

It all unfolded so fast. You started to grind your hips against his growing bulge.

“I've been waiting for you for so long, y/n.” He was out of breath, the distance between your two faces felt stuffy and crowded but neither of you had anything to say about it.

“You have no idea…” You smiled back, your fingers now doing the same as his and peeping into his pants.

“Let me have it, please.” You said, palming at his bulge through his boxers.

He was quick to remove his bottom clothing along with yours. You didn't move from the position you were in. You threw your leg over Noah's hip, giving him full access.

He slid his tip throughout your wetness, hoping to make it easy to push into you.

As he did so, you gasped. He was thick and the perfect length. It stretched you out perfect.

You softly whined, moving your hips ever so slightly, hoping he would catch on.

He gasped as he started to fuck into you. The space between you felt almost non-existent. Your lips were ghosting over each other with each thrust Noah gave you.

Your breathy moans were hitting Noah's face. His jaw clenched and he littered your neck with open mouthed kisses.

“Oh fuck, this is so wrong.” You muttered.

“I don't care. You're too perfect for my cock.” Noah's words were low and caring, yet so deep and almost like he was growling.

Your heart felt like it was going to explode and your stomach felt like it was tying itself in knots.

“Don't. Not yet, baby. Don't want this to end…fucking ever..” Noah pulled you in closer and put his full body into his thrusts.

His body was grinding against yourself and his skin felt hot radiating onto yours.

Noah was barely visible under the candle lit room, but you could see every facial expression ever so slightly. His hair was sticking to his forehead.

It felt euphoric. It felt un-fucking-real. With previous partners, it had never felt like this. It felt like you were off some kind of party drug. Noah's cock was doing this to you? You almost couldn't believe it.

Noah's fingernails were digging into your skin on your hips, slowly dragging across your body.

The soft burn the scratches Noah gave you were all too much.

Noah, seemingly knowing you were close, barely sped up.

You dug your fingers into his shoulders before entering your orgasm. Your body convulsed against him. You felt Noah's cock pump thick ropes of his babies into you.

His grunts and jagged hip movements made you weak.

As you came down and back to reality, your chest was heaving and Noah gave you a kiss on your forehead.

“I can’t believe we did that.” Noah chuckled.

You laughed and rolled your eyes.

“You're my secret.” You said, kissing his chest.

“And you're mine, angel.”

[beggars-opera]

You hate classic lit because:

Your were forced to read it in high school, and no one likes to be forced to do anything in school

Your teacher failed to explain that important things aren't always objectively enjoyable

Your class was focused on picking the book apart at the expense of appreciating the story or, more importantly, the context of the book and why you should care

You think that the book has to be relevant and nonthreatening to you to be worth reading

I had an English teacher in high school tell me word for word that Charles Dickens was the filet mignon of literature, and that my class clearly only liked hot dogs. I had another teacher ask me what I thought the meaning of a poem was and then told me that my interpretation was objectively wrong.

But I've also seen other teachers explaining what made a book a classic, why people at the time loved it, what new ideas or writing styles it pioneered, or what historical events it inspired. And I've read, throughout my life, plenty of classics without the constraints of an educational setting, and thoroughly enjoyed them. Hell, I've taken Les Miserables to the beach.

There have also been books that I have read and not enjoyed! Sometimes they had themes that I hated, but as a historian I can put those themes in context and still learn from the work as a whole. Sometimes I just didn't like the story, but I can accept that my ideal plotline doesn't always mesh with that of an average person in 1788. I also know when books feel disjointed because they were originally serialized, or paid by the word, or written in a dialect and culture not my own. And now I'm an adult, and I can choose to finish them or put them down.

The point is I encourage you to revisit books you once had to read and hated, or books you never had to read but have avoided because they fall in the same category. As an adult you get to make your own choices and form your own opinions, and that freedom allows you to dive as deeply or shallowly into literature as you want. You may never like War and Peace, but you might also find that you enjoy more than you thought you would.