#elizabeth collins imagine

[multimilfs]

Elizabeth Collins x Fem!Reader: Good Behavior

Summary: ghostsunderstoodmysoul sent... Elizabeth Collins + 36 -- "You were put on this earth to give me a headache."

AO3

Prompts found here!

A/N: To this day, this is one of my favorite Michelle roles. I think it's just so fun. Also I need you to know that when I saw the number and the character I was SO EXCITED. It's the perfect combination for her character!!!!

Full Ficmas List

Tag List: @escapetodreamworld @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @multifandomfix

Warning(s): None

You’re sitting at the long dining room table, flipping blindly through the newspaper for something interesting. Carolyn is half-sprawled a few seats away on your left, eyes closed, head bobbing. The chair groans and squeaks as she shifts her whole body the longer the song goes on. 

The coffee in your cup makes you wince with every bitter sip. Someone—Barnabas—had been asked several times to get milk at the store, which he forgot, along with a whole manner of other things. You haven’t worked up the energy to make the trip yourself but you and Elizabeth both made the decision that Barnabas is not to be trusted with family errands; you’re not entirely sure why he was trusted in the first place. 

Carolyn hums a few chairs away as the record player goes quiet, spinning and crackling, before another song starts. The girl is up and out of her seat as the first note hits her ears. She sways and dips, making you raise your brows, but ultimately you turn back to the newspaper. 

“Good morning.” A quiet voice comes from your right. 

You jump. Dropping the paper onto the table reveals David. He silently takes up a seat, dark curls flattened on one side and pajama set rumpled. You grin and resist the urge to lean over and ruffle his hair. 

“Morning, David,” You say, “Sleep well?” 

He nods. His eyes are focused intently on the bowl in front of him as he goes through the motion of fixing his cereal—though it isn’t much, without the milk. 

“I saw my Mom again last night.” 

“Sweetheart, your Mom moved on, remember?” You say gently. 

A shadow comes over his face. You wait, sipping at your coffee, every painfully bitter sip infusing your bones with warmth. David has struggled separating dreams from reality as of late, mentioning conversations with his Mother like they happened just yesterday. It pains you every time you have to remind him of the truth. 

He lifts a spoonful of dry cereal to his mouth and nods. You almost regret having said anything. 

“Yeah,” David says, “It was a dream. It felt real.” 

“I know. She was with you for a long time, so that’s only reasonable.” 

“Do you think she still is? Aunt Liz says she—” 

Carolyn cuts in violently, “Will you two shut up? This is the best part!” 

David goes silent and drops his spoon into the bowl. He pulls his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms securely around his legs. You breathe deeply and take a moment to gather your patience. Despite her outburst, it took Carolyn no time to return to her dancing. 

You level a heavy look her way, but she doesn’t notice. It’s only a few days until the full moon now. You can blame her temper on her magical affliction all day, but you’d be wrong to ignore how she has methods of coping with her anger to use rather than blowing up. 

Clearing your throat, you push your chair back from the table. 

“Turn it off, please, Carolyn.” You request. 

It goes ignored. 

“Either you turn it off or I will.” You say. 

That earns you a reaction. She groans and turns, teeth bared. David flinches away from the display of her elongated canines and yellowed eyes. You just stare back. The challenge makes her growl, deep and low in her throat. 

It’s an impressive display. Unfortunately, Carolyn is all bark and no bite. You’re not going to bend to her performance. 

“God!” She shouts, finally breaking, “You’re the worst!” 

Carolyn turns off the record player and stomps out of the room, huffing the whole way. She passes Elizabeth coming in on her way out. Her Mother turns as if to say something, before thinking better of it. Elizabeth is still shaking her head when she comes to sit beside you. 

You lean over and place a fond kiss on her cheek. It earns you a warning glance. The paper you discarded on the table catches her eye and she tilts her head, taking in the headline. 

“What was that about?” Elizabeth asks finally. 

All too aware of David still listening at the table, “I’ll explain later. Sleep well?” 

She did. You know that because you sleep next to her and she was snoring—rather obnoxiously —when you woke up. 

“I did,” She says. She pours herself a cup of coffee before glancing over at your cup, “Black coffee this morning, dear?” 

“We still don’t have milk.” 

You motion to David, who has returned to eating his dry cereal, and Elizabeth sighs. Two fingers pinch the bridge of her nose. It makes you chuckle into your coffee. 

There’s a grocery trip in the very, very near future. But you have to make sure Elizabeth is distracted before you attempt to leave. She’ll fight hard to go with you, but you can see the strained look in her eyes, her smile not feeling completely authentic. 

You’ve made it your mission that Elizabeth spends the day relaxing. No errands, no business, nothing. All of it will fall to you; you’ve made sure that any calls from Collins Cannery are held until tomorrow and any bright ideas Barnabas may get are brought to you instead. You even went out of your way to restock her macrame supplies. 

“We’ll go after breakfast.” Elizabeth decides. 

Lucky for you, you’re already done up for the day. Elizabeth has forgone her makeup for breakfast which leaves you just enough time to slip out of the house. You’ve also made sure to hide the keys in case she catches on.

She doesn’t, though.

After breakfast, she leaves you with a small kiss, and ascends the stairs to your shared bedroom. You wait a good thirty seconds before fishing out the car keys from a vase near the door. 

David catches your exit and his brows furrow. You don’t resist the urge to ruffle his hair this time, to his dismay. He frowns at you through an abundance of curls. The action reminds you how young he still is. Emotions welling in your chest, you kiss his forehead. 

“Tell your Aunt Liz I’ve got groceries covered and that she should do some macrame while I’m gone.” You relay. 

“...Okay.” 

— —

Elizabeth stands in the doorway when you return. Her arms are crossed over her chest and she looks displeased, but not truly; her frown isn’t deep enough. You flash her a smile when you turn off the car. 

“Get some macrame done?” You ask. 

“You were put on this earth to give me a headache, you know that?” She says, ignoring your question, “I come downstairs and David tells me I should go do macrame. He didn’t tell me where you were, I didn’t realize until I saw the car was gone.” 

“You know what cures a headache?” 

“Don’t.” 

“Macrame.” 

“I despise you.”

“If that were true, I wouldn’t live in your house… or sleep in your bed.” You point out. 

Elizabeth glares, “You can just as easily sleep on the couch.” 

“You’d miss me too much, Lizzie.” 

She turns around and closes the door behind her. You hear the heavy lock click into place on the other side. The groceries in your arms feel much heavier. Carefully balancing the brown bags, you round the house to the back door, only to find that locked too. 

Damn her. 

You try to do one nice thing for her and she kicks you out; Carolyn’s mood swings must be an inherited trait. It seems you’re going to wait on the front porch until her mood blows over. 

Turning to head back up front, you hear the lock click, and the squeal of the hinges as the door opens. David stands in the doorway with a small smile on his face. That isn’t a good sign. 

“Aunt Liz said not to let you in until you learn your lesson.” He says. 

“Oh, yeah?” You say, “Then why open the door?” 

His smile widens. 

“What’s your price?” You ask. 

“I want ice cream for dinner.” 

You try not to wince. Elizabeth will never go for the idea, but your arms are aching. The only way inside is to agree and risk pissing her off more. 

Maybe, you think, you can smooth things over. She’s kept you around this long, hasn’t she? 

“Fine,” You agree and he lets out an excited yes! before you hold up your hand, “but it has to be tomorrow night, I don’t want to stress your Aunt out anymore today.”

This time of the month she’s already bogged down dealing with Carolyn, so where usually she’d find ice cream for dinner amusing and playfully scold you, it could possibly mean hell over the next few days. You have to be careful about this. 

“Okay!” David agrees. He opens the door and lets you through. 

You drop the groceries on the closest available surface. 

No sooner have you done that than Elizabeth appears, arms crossed over her chest, lips pursed. David walks by as if he wasn’t the one to let you back in the house. Once he’s passed, you offer her a smile. She raises a brow. 

“You should be relaxing, honey.” You advise. 

Elizabeth reaches into the bags and begins to unpack them. 

“I’d relax more if you wouldn’t sneak off.” 

You laugh, “Would you have actually let me go this morning, Liz?” 

She says nothing. 

Putting the eggs and milk away is very interesting all of a sudden. You try to hide your knowing grin, but when Elizabeth glares, you know you’ve failed. 

You kiss her sweetly on the cheek. She’s impossibly cute, even when she’s annoyed. 

“I know you, sweetheart,” You add, “You need a day off.” 

“I take days off.” She argues.

“When was the last day you took, hm?” 

“I–” Elizabeth starts, only to pause. You can practically see the gears turning in her head. Finally, her face settles into a frown, “I’d have more time to take days off if you all behaved.” 

“You mean if Barnabas behaved.” 

Of the Collins family, Barnabas is by far the worst behaved. It forever astounded you that your werewolf step-daughter had more decorum than the centuries old vampire. It’d astound Elizabeth too, if she wasn’t the one handling the fallout. 

The people of Collinsport had been more amiable to Barnabas’... affliction than you’d expected. When you hadn’t woken up the morning after the fires to a mob outside the dingy hotel room you were staying in, you were amazed. They had even helped you all rebuild—the house, at least; the bones had survived, being made primarily of stone, but the insides… a lot had been lost, but a lot had been saved too. 

Collins Cannery had been a completely different beast. 

Luckily, Elizabeth had been smart enough to set the business up with insurance this time, rather than relying on old family funds. Barnabas had made his first very blatant error when he—badly—hypnotized the insurance adjuster into fudging a few numbers. 

You swore up and down that you thought Elizabeth was going to tear her hair out when the threat of a lawsuit came around. Thank god for plausible deniability. 

Since then, Elizabeth had taken on the bulk of the Cannery work, attempting to make sound business decisions while dodging accusations of foul play on Barnabas’ end. You’d been fortunate enough to sit in on a meeting where Barnabas had loudly proclaimed that he only engaged in dishonorable play. He was promptly removed from the board after that. 

“Do you think Barnabas would take offense to us sending him on a short vacation?” Elizabeth asks, face contemplative. 

“Why not a long one?” 

“David enjoys having him around.” 

You nod, “Short vacation it is. And when our dear cousin is on this vacation, will you finally take that break?” 

Elizabeth looks over her shoulder with eyes full of amusement. You know the answer without her having to say it. Smiling, you saunter over to the phone, dialing a well-known number. The line rings before you’re connected to someone on the other end. 

Smiling and throwing Elizabeth a wink, “Hi Delia. I’ve got a quick question—where did you say you sent your Mother-in-law last week?”

[thegreeks]

Part 2: Whispers in the Storm

Other parts here: Part 1, Part 3

Warnings: death, sickness, eerie

Synopsis: an urgent calling for you and your husband to Longbourn amidst a terrible storm leads to an unpleasant discovery

The carriage rocked violently as it sped through the night, the storm outside showing no mercy. The rain pelted the windows, blurring the world beyond into a swirling, dark mass. Inside, you sat rigid, your hands clasped tightly in your lap, your knuckles white. Darcy sat across from you, his face a mask of quiet dread, his eyes fixed on the shadowy road ahead. The flickering lantern cast long, wavering shadows on his features, making him appear almost ghostlike in the dim light.

Neither of you had spoken since the moment you’d left Pemberley. The air between you was thick with unspoken fears, and every jolt of the carriage only seemed to deepen the sense of foreboding that clung to you like the cold dampness of the storm.

The messenger’s words rang in your ears, over and over, filling the silence in your mind:

Miss Bennet has taken ill. Gravely so. You must come quickly.

No other details had been provided, but the urgency in his tone had been unmistakable. Elizabeth, your dearest friend, your sister in every way that mattered, was in danger, and you had never felt so powerless.

The horses strained against the weight of the carriage as they pushed through the mud, their hooves slipping now and then on the slick road. The driver shouted commands to keep them steady, but even his voice was lost to the storm.

Darcy’s hand tightened on the edge of his seat as the carriage lurched to the side, nearly toppling over before righting itself. You saw the flicker of worry in his eyes as he glanced at you, his lips pressing into a thin line. He had been trying to remain composed, to shield you from his own fears, but it was clear that even he could no longer hold back the anxiety gnawing at him.

“Do not fear,” Darcy finally said, his voice low and steady, though it was clear he was speaking as much to himself as to you. “We will be there soon. Elizabeth… she is strong.”

You nodded, but the knot in your chest refused to loosen. “I only hope we are not too late.”

Darcy’s gaze softened, and for a moment, his hand reached toward you as if to offer comfort, but then he withdrew it, curling his fingers into a fist. He was always like this in times of crisis—stoic, determined to carry the burden alone. But you knew him too well. Beneath that carefully constructed mask was a heart that felt deeply, a heart that was breaking just as much as yours.

The hours dragged on, the storm showing no sign of letting up. The road became rougher, more treacherous, and with each passing mile, your dread deepened. It felt as though the very elements were conspiring to keep you from reaching Elizabeth, from finding out what terrible fate had befallen her.

At last, just as the first light of dawn began to break through the storm clouds, the carriage slowed. You leaned forward, peering through the rain-splattered window. Through the mist and rain, the familiar outline of Longbourn emerged from the gloom, its dark windows and weathered stone walls looking more foreboding than ever before.

Darcy was out of the carriage before it had fully stopped, helping you down onto the muddy ground. His hand lingered on yours for a moment, and though his grip was firm, there was a tremble in his touch.

As you hurried toward the front entrance, you noticed the eerie stillness that surrounded the estate. There were no servants bustling about, no welcoming lights in the windows. Everything was silent, save for the soft patter of rain on the ground.

Mr. Bennet himself greeted you at the door, his face pale and drawn. The lines around his eyes seemed deeper, his usual wit and sarcasm replaced by a heavy weariness that spoke of sleepless nights and mounting fear.

“Mr. and Mrs. Darcy,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Thank you for coming.”

“What has happened?” Darcy asked immediately, stepping forward. “Elizabeth—how is she?”

Mr. Bennet swallowed, his eyes flickering with something you could only describe as helplessness. “She is… still with us,” he said, though the words were delivered with little hope. “But the doctor… he fears she will not last the night.”

Your heart sank at his words, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt. Darcy placed a steadying hand on your arm, his grip the only thing keeping you grounded.

“I must see her,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Mr. Bennet nodded gravely and led you both up the familiar staircase, the house now oppressively quiet. The creak of the stairs beneath your feet was the only sound, save for the occasional groan of the wind outside.

As you approached Elizabeth’s room, the smell of sickness hit you—a mix of herbs and something sour, something that made your stomach turn. You hesitated at the door, your hand hovering over the handle, but Darcy gave you a reassuring nod and with a deep breath, you pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The room was dim, lit only by a single candle flickering on the bedside table. Elizabeth lay in the bed, her face pale, her breathing shallow. Jane sat beside her, holding her hand, her own face streaked with tears. Bingley stood behind her, his usual cheerful demeanor replaced by silent anguish.

You rushed to Elizabeth’s side, kneeling by the bed as you took her hand in yours. It was cold, far too cold. “Elizabeth,” you whispered, choking back the sob that threatened to escape. “We are here.”

Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of your voice, but they were dull, unfocused. For a moment, she seemed not to recognize you, her gaze drifting past you as though searching for something—someone—just beyond reach.

“Elizabeth,” Darcy said gently, moving to stand beside you. His voice was soft, almost pleading. “It’s me. It’s Fitzwilliam.”

Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Her hand twitched in yours, a feeble attempt to respond, but her strength was fading. You could see it in the way her chest barely rose with each shallow breath, in the way her body seemed to sink deeper into the bed, as though the very life was being drained from her.

You felt the tears spill over, hot and unchecked, as you clutched her hand tighter. “Please,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Don’t leave us.”

But Elizabeth only blinked slowly, her eyes fluttering closed again, as though sleep—eternal and unrelenting—was calling her. Jane’s quiet sobs filled the room, and for the first time in his life, Darcy stood helpless, his head bowed in silent grief.

The storm had not abated. Rain pounded against the windows of Longbourn, the wind howling through the cracks in the old house, as if nature itself mourned alongside you. Inside, Elizabeth’s room felt suffocating. The air was thick with the scent of illness, the oppressive silence broken only by the occasional sobs from Jane and the relentless patter of rain.

You had not moved from Elizabeth’s bedside, your hand still clasping hers, though the warmth had long since left her skin. Jane continued to grip her sister’s other hand, her tear-streaked face buried in her arm. Bingley stood behind her, gently resting a hand on her shoulder, his own face etched with grief. Darcy lingered by the window, his back turned to you all, the tension in his posture betraying his helplessness. He was a man of action, of control, yet here, in the face of illness and death, he could do nothing.

For what felt like an eternity, no one spoke. The room was trapped in the stillness of waiting—waiting for the inevitable, waiting for something to change, though you all feared what that change might be.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and you glanced up to see Mr. Bennet standing in the doorway, his expression solemn. He said nothing as he stepped inside, quietly making his way to the foot of the bed. His face was pale, his eyes heavy with exhaustion and sorrow. He had always been a man who found humor in the absurdities of life, but now, faced with the possible loss of his daughter, there was no jest, no witty remark to deflect the pain.

“Has there been… any change?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Jane shook her head, unable to speak.

Mr. Bennet closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world had finally pressed down upon him. “The doctor… he says there is nothing more we can do. We must wait.” His voice cracked, betraying the emotion he so often kept hidden. “And pray.”

Darcy finally turned from the window, his expression grim. He met Mr. Bennet’s gaze with a solemn nod, as if acknowledging the terrible truth none of you wished to face. “If there is anything you require, anything at all, you need only ask,” Darcy said quietly. His voice, though calm, carried a depth of emotion that you knew he was struggling to contain.

Mr. Bennet gave a curt nod, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. But I fear nothing more can be done.” He glanced down at Elizabeth, his eyes softening with sorrow. “She was always the strongest of my girls. To see her like this… I cannot—” He stopped, his voice breaking, and he quickly turned away, as if ashamed of his own weakness.

Darcy moved toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder in a rare gesture of comfort. “She is strong,” Darcy said softly. “She has fought this long. She will fight still.”

But even as Darcy spoke, you could see the doubt in his eyes, the creeping fear that had taken hold of him since the moment you had arrived. He believed in Elizabeth’s strength—he wanted to believe in it—but you all knew that even strength had its limits.

The hours passed in a blur. Servants came and went, bringing food and tea that no one touched. The doctor returned briefly, his grim expression telling you all you needed to know before he left once again. The storm outside continued its relentless assault, the wind howling like a mournful wail through the trees.

As night fell once more, a soft knock at the door broke the silence. Mrs. Bennet entered the room, her face drawn and pale, though her usual air of fretfulness seemed subdued. She approached Elizabeth’s bed slowly, her eyes wide with fear and sadness.

“My Lizzy,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Oh, my poor girl…”

Jane rose from her chair, offering her mother a seat beside Elizabeth. Mrs. Bennet sat down, her hands shaking as she reached out to stroke her daughter’s hair. She said nothing more, but the tears streaming down her face spoke volumes.

You could barely watch, your heart aching with the weight of it all. Every breath Elizabeth took seemed shallower than the last, and you feared that at any moment, that fragile rhythm would stop altogether.

But then, just as hope seemed to be slipping through your fingers like sand, Elizabeth stirred. Her eyelids fluttered, her chest rising a little more deeply than before. You leaned forward, your heart skipping a beat.

“Lizzy?” Jane whispered, her voice filled with cautious hope.

Elizabeth’s eyes opened slowly, unfocused at first, but then they seemed to clear, her gaze drifting around the room. She blinked, confusion flickering across her features as she took in the faces around her.

“Jane?” she rasped, her voice weak but unmistakably hers.

Jane let out a sob of relief, clutching her sister’s hand tighter. “Yes, Lizzy, it’s me. I’m here.”

You felt your own tears welling up as you watched Elizabeth, alive and awake, though still fragile. Darcy stepped forward, his face a mix of astonishment and cautious hope, while Mr. and Mrs. Bennet both breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Elizabeth’s eyes found you, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You came,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the storm outside.

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. You had feared the worst, feared that you might never hear her voice again, but now, against all odds, she was still here.

Darcy moved to stand beside you, his hand resting gently on your shoulder as he gazed down at Elizabeth with an expression of quiet awe. “You gave us quite a fright,” he said softly, his usual composed demeanor giving way to a rare moment of vulnerability.

Elizabeth’s smile grew a little wider, though her exhaustion was evident. “I am… sorry,” she murmured, her eyelids drooping once again.

Jane leaned forward, brushing a lock of hair from Elizabeth’s forehead. “Rest now, Lizzy. We are here.”

As Elizabeth drifted back into a peaceful sleep, the tension in the room slowly began to dissipate. The fear that had gripped you all for so long started to ease, replaced by a cautious optimism. She was not out of danger yet, but there was hope. There was always hope.

Darcy’s hand remained on your shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. You leaned into him slightly, grateful for his steady presence, and together, you watched over Elizabeth as the storm outside began to subside.

For the first time in what felt like days, the darkness did not seem quite so suffocating, though something unsettling lingered in a deep corner of your mind that you could not seem to push away.

[goldenclasp]

this is very niche and ill-advised but I need someone to write me some Mr Collins/Elizabeth fanfic. you don't understand!! I need Elizabeth to bully this man so much

[drchucktingle]

Good evening Dr. Tingle! Would you ever like to see a film adaption of Bury Your Gays? I think it would be so neat (especially with all of the tv and movie references present in the novel). If there ever was a movie, who would you want hypothetically cast?

HELLO BUCKAROO this is always a fun question to consider actors for a book adaption. when writing i sometimes CAST IN MY HEAD and sometimes it is just kind of a made up buckaroo. there are really only two characters in BURY YOUR GAYS that were cast in my head while writing and i will mention those below.

ultimately WHOEVER was to trot in these rolls i would be happy with, so lets just consider this a fun way through imagination. i will say that i would prefer to cast queer actors, but also i know the business of hollywood means sometimes that does not work out to get the movie on screens. if bury your gays was turned into a movie i would really have no say in any of this anyway, but queer actors would be my preference when possible.

despite all of that, when writing MISHA, the actor in my head was NOT a queer actor as far as i know (although for some reason us queer buckaroos have given him a pass to play queer characters which i think is very funny and interesting, i guess we just love him a lot regardless) anyway lets kick it off there

MISHA BYRNE

when writing BURY YOUR GAYS i was picturing none other than BILL HADER. maybe it is because i was watchin a lot of BARRY at the time, not exactly sure why but thats the truth.

that being said i think i would be great to get a queer lead in there. so if that was the case i would say LEE PACE, and of course we have the ultimate fan cast MISHA COLLINS

TARA ITO

this is the other character that was FULLY IN MY HEAD as i wrote it and mentally cast from day one. it also kind of coincides with the trot of a tv show i was watching at the time which was PEN 15. so tara in my mind was always MAYA ERSKINE

ZEKE ROMERO

not exactly a known actor in my head, but when considering options i think that OSCAR ISSAC would be very good

JACK HAYS

there are a few options for this, but i keep thinking of a very clean shaven MURRAY BARTLETT in a suit. another options would be ZACHARY QUINTO especially if we get chris pine as chris oak because thats just some incredible META KIRK AND SPOCK action for the sledgehammer scene.

now onto the dang villains.

CHRIS OAK

okay so obviously we gotta cast CHRIS PINE in this role (i might have an in). however if that does not work out i would like to suggest COLMAN DOMINGO

THE SMOKER / UNCLE KEITH

would be neat to have the monsters also play their inspiration. in the case of THE SMOKER i think STEVE BUSCEMI would be incredible

MRS. WHY / AGENT Y

last buck not least i propose ELIZABETH DEBICKI as MRS. WHY

if you have not read bury your gays yet but now you are DANG INTERESTED then you can get it here. thanks for reading buckaroos feel free to reply with your own castings. I AM NO EXPERT you know my art just as well as i do so i am curious your thoughts. LOVE IS REAL

[firawren]

After this thread about Darcy leaping through a window and this post about Darcy freaking out at Lady Catherine's reveal about Elizabeth, I've decided that Mr. Darcy just bolts any time he learns exciting new information about Elizabeth.

—

Mrs. Collins: Elizabeth is home alone with a headache

Darcy: What?! *runs from the room so he can go propose to her*

—

Mr. Gardiner: Elizabeth is visiting your sister inside the house right now

Darcy: What?! *drops fishing rod and runs home to get a glimpse of her*

—

Lady Catherine: Miss Bennet refuses to refuse to marry you!

Darcy: WHAT?! *runs from the house to leap onto a horse and gallop to Longbourne*

—

(Obviously I don't think our refined gentleman would do any of these in canon. But it's fun to imagine! I wrote a canon-compliant fic about the second one, where he doesn't run, but he does power-walk and get all sweaty.)

[taradactyls]

More Bennet Family finances discussion - Ch26 end note of Trying to Tread Water

For those of you interested in the financial elements of Austen’s books, that statement of Mr Bennet’s about how much it would have taken to give their daughters £10,000 apiece is accurate. That’s more than they would be expected to have, as the general rule about ample dowries appeared to be about 3x the father’s yearly income, a number which certainly seems supported in the case of the Darcys and Bingleys (keeping in mind the late Mr Bingley must have had £140,000, if the daughters each had £20,000 and Mr Bingley has about £100,000).

SO, if we go by that rule and aim for each of the Bennets to have £6,000 (as Mr Bennet’s estate is £2,000/y) invested in the 4% like their mother’s settlement is, how much WOULD Mr and Mrs Bennet have had to be saving?

We can assume by the end of the book they have been married at least 23 years (and they should have been saving from the very beginning, regardless of their hope to end the entail), which means that if they’d reinvested the interest of Mrs Bennet’s £5,000 and added £450 a year, they would have £28,802 about when Jane, Elizabeth, and Lydia got married. Even if they were given a dowry immediately upon their marriages (meaning £18,000 is subtracted) it would only take two more years for the account to be over £12,000 again, ensuring all five daughters would have at least £6,000 after their parents were dead. (If it were invested in the 5% bonds, these savings go up to £34,001 after 23 years, and to get £29,858 after 23 years they would only need to be depositing £350).

But say that level of saving isn’t desired, as Mrs Bennet doesn’t want to live off £1,550/y. They could live off the £2,000/y estate and save only the interest of her £5,000 settlement (the £4,000 dowry plus additional £1,000 from Mr Bennet) and, in 23 years, have grown those savings to £12,324 (£15,358 in the 5%s). Which means that if Mr Bennet were to die tomorrow the family would still feel they were in genteel poverty, but would be more than twice as rich as they are in canon which is a DRASTIC difference. For context, in Sense and Sensibility, Mrs Dashwood and her daughters are living off the interest of about £10,000 and it seems Mrs and Miss Bates in Emma have interest from about £2,000-£2,500.

If they had saved even only £100/y on top of that interest the number shoots up to £15,985 (£19,501 at 5%), £200 saved becomes £19,647 (or £23,644), etc. It really wouldn’t have been hard for Mr and Mrs Bennet to save enough money so their daughters (and Mrs Bennet, if she’s the survivor) needn’t fear genteel poverty when the estate passes to Mr Collins. Catherine Moreland (of Northanger Abbey) is one of ten children whose father is almost certainly not as rich as Mr Bennet, but she has a dowry of £3,000, so there’s no reason to think Mr and Mrs Bennet couldn’t have achieved that. When Mr Darcy and the Bingley sisters are mocking the Miss Bennets’ wealth at the start of the book it’s not just the number they’re judging, but what it reveals about the priorities and fiscal savviness of their parents. Imagine if you knew a 1%er family who were constantly flirting with bankruptcy and 2/5 of their children were barely educated – you wouldn’t be wrong for assuming there were some drastic faults within that family. Mr Darcy and the Bingley sisters were horrible snobs about it, but it actually was a massive lapse of Mr and Mrs Bennet’s duty and they’re rich enough that there’s no excuse for it. After all, Mr Darcy is about five times richer (Mr Bingley is two or two-point-five times richer) than Mr Bennet, yet Georgiana is THIRTY times (and Caroline and Lousia twenty times) richer than the Miss Bennets. I know it’s easier for someone with Darcy levels of money to save, but wow is the failure drastic when you compare it directly.

[bethanydelleman]

Hello!

I rewatched Pride and Prejudice and it's surprising how my thoughts on it changed over the years 😃

When I was a teenager, Elizabeth Bennet was the plucky heroine that I wanted to be (lol) , now I'm older with a mortgage and responsibilities/bills, I'm like what was her plan in life?

Because she wasn't really educated per se (im thinking about how she answered lady Catherine about what she has to recommend her re:drawing, playing the piano etc) so I guess a 'career'(no matter how little it would be available at that time) was out of the question, but accepting marraige to the (admittedly obsequious) Mr Collins was also out of the question as well as Mr Darcys first proposal (which I get why sge turned it down!) ...I guess I'm asking what Elizabeth's plan for her future.

I've heard this from a lot of people upon re-read, "Why isn't Elizabeth more worried about her future?" I think there are a few things to note.

Early 1800s or not, Elizabeth is 20 years old when the novel begins (the average age of first marriage for women was 23). 27 year old Charlotte is in more of a future panic, but Elizabeth is still young. She has done practical thing like learn to play piano, but like most young people, she's probably just hoping for the best. And it's not like there is much she can actually do, Elizabeth is putting herself out there, she's dancing, she's playing piano, but otherwise she can just hurry up and wait. Her mother's marriage schemes are seen as vulgar and mostly backfire, and we would hardly want Elizabeth to act like Caroline. We read across Austen's novel's that women are largely stationary and it is the men who move in and out of their lives.

Also, I think a big part of Austen's point is that women are in a position where they feel the need to accept any and every proposal, because as Mr. Collins says, they may never receive another, but that this leads to misery (just look at the older couples and how many of them are unhappy!). While somewhat foolish from a financial perspective, Elizabeth is thinking about her long term happiness. She has watched her father turn bitter in an unequal relationship, she does not want that for herself. Elizabeth is choosing possible spinsterhood over being married to a person she knows she could not respect. Marrying for love, or at least on a basis of respect, is a big theme in Austen's novels. Let me add this quote from Mansfield Park to illustrate this point:

“I should have thought,” said Fanny, after a pause of recollection and exertion, “that every woman must have felt the possibility of a man’s not being approved, not being loved by some one of her sex at least, let him be ever so generally agreeable. Let him have all the perfections in the world, I think it ought not to be set down as certain that a man must be acceptable to every woman he may happen to like himself.... And, and—we think very differently of the nature of women, if they can imagine a woman so very soon capable of returning an affection as this seems to imply.”

So yes, Elizabeth Bennet isn't being financially prudent but she is being sensible in preserving her happiness. And for realism, we know Austen made this decision herself! She turned down an eligible offer.

Next, Mrs. Bennet is somewhat exaggerating: they are very unlikely to starve or be destitute. While it is never explicitly stated, Mr. Gardiner seems to be doing very well, and would probably very happily take at least Jane and Elizabeth if Mr. Bennet died. Mr. Philips is also doing well for a country attorney, he could take in his sister-in-law and nieces. It is going to suck, the Bennets should have planned better, but it's not the end of the world. We also do not know Mr. Bennet's age, but he may well only be in his late forties. He's no Mr. Woodhouse who may die tomorrow in a stiff breeze.

So what is Elizabeth's plan? She doesn't have one, she's 20. She's hoping life will throw her a man with a decent income that she doesn't hate. It works out in the end, but I don't think she would live to regret either turned down proposal if she had never met Darcy again.

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Jane, Medical Technician

Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay, I get you’re the head of the science department here, but your rehab falls under my supervision you know,” Jane said, a little exhausted. She couldn’t believe it had only taken a few weeks for someone on the crew to get seriously injured, although it was completely believable that it was one of her fellow humans.

“I know, I know,” Liz said, waving her new augmented arm. “I thought I could speed it up if I overclocked the neural activity algorithm, but that didn’t work, it just gave me headaches.”

“This isn’t something you can speed up Collins, you can’t just skip parts of your recovery because they’re inconvenient.” Jane sighed.

“Liz, you lost a huge part of yourself, a very necessary part. And you lost it in probably the most traumatic way I can even imagine. You’ve got to let your body and mind heal at their own pace, alright?”

“Fine, okay, alright,” Liz said. “You’re right, I know that, I just want to go back to normal, not adjust to a new normal.” She leaned her head back against the cushioned chair.

“It’s like, part of my nature, to fix problems, improve things, see how they tick,” Liz said. “I clearly have a problem that I can’t solve and my brain won’t let me back burner it ‘till I have something else to focus on.” She brought her head back up.

“Let’s talk about something else! Give me something, anything, so long as it keeps my brain busy.”

Jane just stared at her a moment, thinking. It wasn’t exactly conventional therapy, but neither of their lives were considered conventional these days. What the hell?

“Like what?” She asked.

“Like I heard you pulled a tracheotomy in the mess hall the other day. Used a steak knife and a bendy straw of all things. You could ask me to make you a whole first aid kid with all the latest tech and it’d fit on your belt, I swear. Actually don’t even ask, I’m already doing it,” Liz stopped to breathe, “it’ll be great for emergency surgeries.”

“Well hopefully we won’t have any more emergency surgeries, but if you’re serious and you think it’ll help, by all means, build me something cool.” Jane smiled.

Jane liked Elizabeth, or Liz as she wanted to be called, and as her only Human patient so far, she wanted to be accommodating. Jane had asked if Doctor Huhuma had wanted to run the sessions herself, but Huhuma thought that another human would be better for the patient to speak with. They’d also heard about how interested Liz Collins was in aliens biology and figured she’d be less distracted this way.

She’d lose it if I told her I have lunch with all the Indoprime on board some days, Jane thought, a little smugly.

As if on cue, the door opened and Doctor Huhuma walked in, lab coat on as always, striped tail swishing as she walked to her office. She waved politely as she passed, and Jane waved back smiling.

“Doctor.”

“Doctor.”

Jane looked back to Liz Collins, who as she figured, was staring, but at her and not the alien monkey woman. And she was grinning.

“Oh yeah, this is a problem I can work with,” Liz said.

“What do you mean?”

“Dilated pupils, mirroring, tensing in the shoulders, the way you leaned ever so slightly towards her as she passed by, you’re blushing so hard as I say this, are you alright?” Liz was trying so hard to keep from laughing. “I’m a trained biologist too hon, and you got some awesome brain chemistry going on right now, don’t you?”

“Okay, times up for today, same time in two days right?” Jane said hurriedly, standing up from her chair.

“Look look look, I’m not gonna say anything alright? And this could be part of my therapy, keeping my mind off the arm while the two get acquainted,” Liz said in a hushed tone, standing as well.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, you have no idea what you’re saying, and your mandated therapy hour… still has… 45 minutes. Damnit.” Jane slapped her hands against her thighs. “Okay, but this is strictly therapy, you start getting weird on me and I’m withholding drugs in the future.”

“Hahaha! YES!“ Liz said, cackling.

“Here,” Jane said, handing her a small rubber ball. “Stress toy, but we are going to use it rehab your hand. Squeeze while we talk.”

Liz put the ball in her new bionic hand and tried squeezing. The hand whirred and and twitched, but didn’t really do more than cup its fingers and hold the stress toy.

“Come on, come on, tell me what’s going on here in this daytime soap you call a med bay,” Liz said, staring at her hand and focusing.

“Nothing really. She’s technically my boss, the most that goes on in here is we have lunch together.”

“Scandalous,” Liz said sarcastically.

“I don’t know what to tell you, nothing is happening between me and Doctor Huhuma.”

“But you want something to happen, right?”

Jane didn’t say anything… but she did blush.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The session continued in that manner for the remaining time, and when Liz left med bay she turned back at the door.

“Okay, call me later, we’ll get Coco in on this too, we’ll get you a date by the weekend.” She left laughing.

The science nerd and her talking tree associate were about as useful as those teen romance novels her cousin was always reading.

Did she want something to happen with the good doctor? Dating a coworker, her boss no less, had to be a terrible idea, right? Of course it was, and that was if she even liked her, which of course she couldn’t.

Jane forced the thought to the back of her mind. She had work to do, a paper to write on the cellular structure of the Zilgrat people and their similarities to Earth ferrets. Much like Huhuma’s people the Indoprime, the Zilgrats were so similar to the Terran species that it was believed by some that they might have a common genetic ancestry.

There was a rapidly growing field of thought back on Earth that many alien species had come to the planet in the infant years of their space exploration, like the Galley, and had left behind objects or hybrids, or some other mark of their presence, hence why so many species seemed to have the same qualities as the Earthling varieties. Personally, Jane was more a fan of evolutionary truths, the idea that certain branches of evolution are more adaptable across the universe, like certain species of birds on Earth that keep ‘reevolving’ despite going extinct, or that every form of life eventually turns into crabs.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, Jane heard the med bay door open. She turned, and saw the Scrib man, Ensign Mirn, standing there with his hands clasped together.

“Hello, Doctor,” he said, bowing his head. “I’m here for my check up? Doctor Huhuma said I’d need to be treated for possible infections or complications if any arose.”

“Right, of course. Hop up on the table.”

Mirn bowed again, then crossed the room and climbed up on the exam table. He was about Jane’s height, give or take 5’4, which was normal for the Scrib. While they resembled humans physically, the whole race was on average much smaller than the Earthlings, with light pink skin and almost zero body hair to speak of.

“Are you feeling alright? Any fever or anything?” Jane asked.

“Not really, perhaps my throat is a bit sore, but I wanted someone to examine me just to be safe. I understand there was a used drinking tool inserted into my trachea?”

“Yeah, sorry about that, it’s all I had at the time.”

“Don’t misunderstand Doctor, you are not to blame. You saved my life, something an entire room of officers failed to accomplish. To the Scrib, to perpetuate life is of the highest priority, so I hold you only in the highest regard.”

“Oh,” Jane said, a little surprised, “well thank you Mirn. I was really just doing my job, you know.”

“That is irrelevant, Doctor. On Scribbin, medical professionals are something akin to religious officials. To the Scrib on board the Noah, and this is especially true of myself, it is a matter of course that the Medical Staff are to be shown the highest order of respect and admiration.”

“That’s actually a nice change of pace, Mirn. On Earth, doctors are usually the ones overworked and underpaid.”

Mirn looked aghast.

“Why would such a thing be? Are you not keeping your people healthy?”

“No, it’s just… humans have a tendency to be suspicious of things they don’t really understand, especially other humans who are probably smarter than them. Some bad things happened in our past, so it’s understandable people are still skeptic.” Jane patted him on the shoulder. “We’re getting better though. Science has come a long way back home, so people are relaxing a little bit more these days.”

“That is… most welcome to hear,” Mirn said.

“Okay, open wide and say ‘ahh’ for me.”

Mirn opened his mouth and tilted his head back, making the sound. The inside of his mouth was reddish, same as a human’s.

“Hmm. Your throat looks a little inflamed. Probably a small infection. I’m gonna prescribe you a broad range antibiotic to be on the safe side, okay?”

“Thank you, Doctor Shaw.”

Jane tapped a few keys in her data pad. She went to the medicine locker up and entered her code, pulling the pills. She handed them to Mirn.

“You know the drill right? Follow the directions on the bottle, and you have to take all of them, even if you’re feeling fine towards the end.”

“Of course, Doctor. Thank you.”

Mirn stood up and headed for the door, but stopped when he was halfway out into the hall.

“Doctor Shaw, if I might ask you something?”

“Something else bothering you?” Jane asked.

“No, no, nothing like that. I wanted to ask something of the Medical Staff, if I may?” Mirn said, bowing again.

“Sure, but what is it?”

“Well, we Scrib have a perpetual reservation time for the GRID simulator. It allows us to recreate a ceremonial space from our home planet, something I believe humans would call a… church service? We give thanks to the Spirit Lord, the bringer of life and medicine, and we would be most honored if the other doctors and yourself could attend it with us. There would be food and drink there, a way for us to repay you for what you have done for us.”

“Well that’s sounds very interesting Mirn, I’ll bring it up to Doctor Huhuma later and I’ll send you a message on your comm-link.”

“Thank you, Doctor Shaw. We would be very pleased for you to attend. I’ll take my leave now, let you return to work.”

Mirn bowed again and stepped out into the hall, letting the door hiss shut behind him.

A race of intelligent people who worship doctors, Jane thought. How about that?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Huhuma had agreed, fairly easily, saying it’d be fun seeing another culture on the ship. The nurses had declined, however, saying they were either too busy or didn’t have much interest, which Mirn had said was perfectly alright. The Scrib had no desire to distract the Med Bay staff if they were otherwise occupied. Jane had said she’d go as well, jokingly saying that if for nothing else that she’d feel awkward if she didn’t at that point. When asked what was the dress code for such an occasion, Mirn had said that their medical uniforms were more than enough. Jane had still done up her make-up at least a bit, and ran a brush through her dark hair before giving up and putting it back up in a bun.

Jane stood outside the simulator, clicking on and off a data pad with Scrib customs loaded on it, when Doctor Huhuma stepped off the lift. As usual, she was in her green medical uniform with her lab coat over it, her hair down around her face in a shaggy pixie cut look. Still no shoes. Jane had asked her before, and the doctor had looked at her confused. ‘Why would I wear those things? How would I walk that way?’ she’d replied, laughing that deep hearty laugh. The only thing that was different was her uniform was open, showing a simple woven shirt underneath, showing off a more casual look, Jane guessed.

She must’ve been staring because Huhuma laughed.

“Something the matter, Jane?”

“Nope, no, not at all,” she stammered.

Smooth.

Jane composed herself, or tried to anyway, and they knocked on the door. It opened to show Mirn, smiling, wearing what looked like a sort of toga clasped at his shoulder and tied at the waist with a belt. He was also not wearing shoes.

“Doctors, you honor us with your presence! Please come in, join us, sit anywhere you please,” he said. He pushed them into the room, which had been simulated to look like a Scribbin temple chamber. A wall of stained glass, glowing with dim golden light, behind a tall statue of a humanoid man with a staff wearing a flowing robe, holding a basket full of herbs and other plants. The statue was circled with low tables covered in platters of food and goblets, surrounded by cushions and rugs taken up by the other 3 Scrib. They stood up and bowed to the doctors as well.

“Doctors, this is Lark, she’s in the communications division with myself, and these are Karu and Meli, they work on the engineering deck with the other Human, Thomas.”

“It’s lovely to meet you all,” Huhuma said, bowing her head slightly.

“Yeah, hi everyone,” Jane said, a little sheepishly.

“Now that you are here, we can begin. Sit, sit,” said Mirn, motioning them to the bigger of the cushions. Jane looked to Huhuma, then sat down. Huhuma sat to her left, striped tail swishing.

“Is there anything we need to do, or…?” Jane let the question hang.

“No, no, all you need to do is eat and drink your fill once the food is blessed. The two of you saved my life, therefore you are my guests here,” Mirn said, sitting across from them.

Jane watched as the 4 Scrib held hands and closed their eyes. Mirn began to chant softly, which was taken up by the others a beat later. When she didn’t understand what they were saying, Jane’s translator beeped quietly in her ear, alerting her to an error. The damn things weren’t great at picking up singing. Thankfully the Scrib all had lovely voices, so Jane didn’t mind. Kind of like turning the radio on in a foreign country. You get to hear something nice, even if you have no idea what they’re saying.

Jane looked around at Huhuma, who seemed entranced, smiling and humming along to the chant the Scrib were carrying. She swayed gently, tail swishing, and Jane found she couldn’t take her eyes off her. Huhuma once again caught her, and she smiled all the way up to her eyes. The Scrib reached their hands out to include them in the circle. Jane took the hand to her right, and jumped a little when Huhuma took her left in hers. Jane felt a heat deep in her cheeks and knew a blush was coming, but this time she didn’t care. The moment seemed to last, magically, as if in all the universe this one single passing blip of time belonged solely to her.

Oh crap… I’ve got a crush, Jane thought.

When the chant was finished and the Scrib let their hands drop, Jane held onto Huhuma’s hand for just a beat longer before letting go.

“That was lovely, Mirn,” Huhuma said.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“I have to say though, what did it mean?” Huhuma continued. “I’m afraid my translator wasn’t able to distinguish any of it.”

“Oh, it was simply a prayer song, praising the Spirit Lord for the bounty of knowledge he’s bestowed on us, as well as for a world of healthy people and the resources to help our fellow lifeforms.”

“What a nice sentiment,” Huhuma said.

“I heard that Scribbin was a haven for medical technology,” Jane spoke up. “Your planet has some of the best teaching hospitals in the GAIL. I’d love to visit one day, attend a lecture or two.”

“All are welcome,” Lark informed them. “Spreading the medical information we have discovered is a tenet of our people.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Jane said hesitantly, “if your people are so inclined to medicine, why aren’t you all doctors yourselves?”

“Some just do not have the temperament for it, nor the inclination,” Mirn said.

“Nor sometimes the stomach,” Lark laughed. “You should have seen Mirn during his first aid training on Scribbin. He was trembling like a newborn at the sight of blood.”

“I was merely too… inexperienced,” Mirn said, with some side eye that made Jane chuckle. “Now before any more of someone’s soon to be former friends bring up the past, we should enjoy the feast.”

Lark laughed as the Scrib stood and began bringing over plates and platters of food. Cups and goblets were handed out, large pitchers of something that smelled sweet yet oddly medicinal were set out, and they began to eat.

Jane grabbed a little of everything, wanting to explore more alien cuisine. Huhuma piled on what appears to be several different vegetables and fruits. She poured some the medicinal drink into a glass and held it out to Jane.

“Thank you,” Jane said.

“Of course, dear.”

Jane felt something swish against her back and saw it was the Doctor’s tail, a totally involuntary action she was sure. Jane hid her face in the cup anyway, swigging down the drink. It tasted sweet, with an odd tannin on the end, still with that medicine taste, but it was also very refreshing.

“What is this drink? It’s good,” Jane said.

“It’s a medicinal wine we brought from our home planet. We only drink during ceremonies like this once a month, so we found a way to enjoy it more,” Lark said, smiling as she took a sip.

“Can I have some more?” Jane asked.

“Of course,” Mirn said, sliding over the pitcher. Huhuma steadied the cup in Jane’s hand and refilled hers before pouring herself another glass. Her fur tickled Jane’s wrist.

“It’s alcoholic?” Huhuma asked.

“A very small percentage, we assure you.”

Whatever the drink was, it was good, in Jane’s opinion. The whole spread was delicious. While she was reaching for something, Huhuma took it upon herself to split a fruit on her plate and place the second half in front of Jane. Jane thanked her, particularly conscious of the way her tail kept swishing against her back behind them. She tried to make small talk with the Scrib, asking various questions about their beliefs and their planet, perhaps she could get a tour of one of their hospitals one day?

All the while, blindingly aware of the delightful presence to her left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Jane opened her eyes the next morning, it wasn’t her ceiling she was looking at.

Oh no, nononononono no, this isn’t happening, Jane thought sluggishly. Her head was pounding, her mouth was dry, and her clothes

-thank you space Jesus-

were still on, if wrinkled. And then she realized she did recognize the ceiling, and the room for that matter. She was in the Med Bay, in the head office, wrapped up in Doctor Huhuma’s hammock. Jane groaned.

“Well good morning to you too.”

Damn you space Jesus, don’t do this to me when I’m this hungover.

Jane looked up and saw the good doctor sitting in her office chair, a hot cup of something in one hand and a data pad in the other. She was smiling, and looking as pristine as ever.

“I’m… my god I’m so sorry Huhuma,” Jane stammered.

“For what? Hogging my hammock all night? I slept in my spare, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Jane couldn’t remember a thing after dinner with the Scrib last night. She rubbed her eyes and tried unsuccessfully to get her feet under her in a way that didn’t relay how out of it she was.

“So when I ask what happened… I didn’t… we weren’t… what happened?”

“Well,” Huhuma said, smiling so wide, “dinner was great. Mirn and Lark and the rest loved us. We had some lovely conversations about med tech and I believe we have a standing invitation to attend another ceremony with them if we wanted.”

“So how did…?” Jane gestured to herself.

“That happened afterwards. You held yourself together very well during the dinner, and afterwards you said you wanted to go have a ‘girls night’ with me. I think that medicinal wine of theirs was a little stronger than they thought. We got drinks in the mess hall, which got a little…” she gestured to Jane. “I didn’t feel like carrying you all the way to your quarters, and I didn’t think you’d mind. And I got to see your reaction, so it was undeniably worth it. You humans are just so cute. Indoprime eat fermented fruits pretty young, so our tolerances to alcohol are high, but you humans… just so cute.”

Jane closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t done anything too overtly stupid. Thank god Huhuma was there to take care of her.

“Well, I’m glad we amuse you,” Jane said, finally getting her legs freed and on the ground. “And… thank you, for taking care of me. I don’t drink a lot, so… yeah. I’m going to go to my quarters and get changed.”

Jane headed for the door.

“Well, I mean, you did give me a kiss though,” Huhuma said. “Remember that?”

Jane froze at the door. She stood stock still, like her body had been frozen in place, except everything felt hot, her face especially. Slowly, slowly, she turned around, and her embarrassment slipped to confusion. Huhuma was standing there with a piece of chocolate in her hand.

“Yeah, you said you wanted to give me kisses, but the Vending Machines you humans installed only made you one at a time, so you got impatient with it and just gave me the first one.”

Huhuma walked over and slipped the piece of chocolate into Jane’s hand.

“I can’t really eat the stuff, so I guess I have to give you a kiss back.” Huhuma was smiling. She was so close to Jane’s face, and she smelled so good… and the she was turning back around and walking back to her desk, tail swishing back and forth.

Jane was speechless. Brain not functioning. Retreat to safe location. She said nothing and just stumbled out the door and practically sprinted to her quarters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh my god, you useless lesbian,” Liz Collins said.

“I don’t have genitalia, does it still count as a ‘girl talk’ if I am present?” Coco asked.

“Why did I bother asking you two for your help?” Jane sighed, face in her hands.

She didn’t know what else to do. She’d sat in her quarters for an hour before sending a communication to the science department asking for a ‘consult’. Liz had shown up 5 minutes later with several bottles of water and enough chocolate to feed an army, but Jane was told that was just Coco’s breakfast. She’d stared at the small confectionery pieces for a while as the two let themselves get comfortable in her room, thinking of a kiss…

“So she just…” Liz asked, hanging the question in the air.

“Yup”.

“After all that…”

“Yup.”

“And you didn’t try to…”

“Nope.”

“You should’ve gone for it.”

“Gone for what?” Jane asked impatiently.

“I don’t know, something!” Liz said. “I’ve never exactly been in your shoes before, or anyone else’s really, but this is basic chemistry right? You have it with the cute doctor monkey lady, right?”

“If I knew if I had chemistry with someone, do you think I’d be asking the person who brought their best friend the tree here for tips?”

Coco sat quietly eating chocolate.

“I have no idea what I’m supposed to do here,” Jane groaned. “Being a human is awful, Coco, we got all this weird biology and chemicals in our brains, you’re much better off as a plant.”

“I can see that,” Coco said. “If you are worried about being mates with the Indoprime doctor, is it not… appropriate to see what they want first?”

“Honestly? Probably. It’s been a while since I dated, and that ended poorly, to say the least. But I don’t have any clue how to… approach this. Besides, this is just a crush, on my boss, who I don’t even know how exactly they feel in the first place.”

“I mean, you spent the morning getting wound up like a spring, I’d say it’s pretty clear, right?” Liz said. Jane chugged another bottle of water.

“Yeah you’d think right? If this was a human, or even just a guy, this would be easier. But she’s so… put together, and mature, and pretty, and…”

“Noah to Jane, reel it back girl, you’re lost out in Huhuma space, hon,” Liz said. “You could check her medical records for a start, check if she has a spouse or something back home, see if anyone is playing goalie,” Liz said, tossing back some chocolate.

“You sound like a guy,” said Jane.

“Still, though.”

“I still do not see why the two just do not mate and spread their pollen-” Coco started.

“Okay, you sweet summer child, that’s not how non-botanical lifeforms do that,” Liz cut her off. Jane was about to burst a blood vessel from embarrassment.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in?” Jane said, confused.

Marrin was in the room before the door was even all the way open.

“What happened? Are you okay? Did she do anything weird to you?” Marrin asked rapidly.

“Woah, woah, what’s up?” Jane asked startled.

“I heard about last night from cousin Huhuma, I came as quickly as I could. You’re okay, right?”

“Yes, yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Liz and Coco sat on the bed watching events unfold. Coco handed her counterpart a piece of chocolate.

“Okay, I wasn’t going to tell you this, but back on Indos, she had a… reputation.” Marrin looked at Jane, and the doctor’s heart sank.

“Whenever anyone was even remotely interested in her, she’d basically ruin their lives for a few weeks.”

Huh?

“Wait, you knew I was into her?” Jane asked incredulously.

“You’re not subtle,” Marrin explained.

Damn it.

“What do you mean ‘ruin their lives’, what the hell does she do?” Jane asked.

“Just… violently and publicly rejects them. She makes sure everyone knows it. There was one time when we were younger and this one male wouldn’t take no for an answer, kept coming around and bothering her… they found him the next day tied to a post by our tribe Elder’s home, shaved from head to tail. I love my cousin, dearly, but she is a devil woman.”

“Well… fuck, that’s pretty funny actually,” Jane admitted. “But she hasn’t done anything like that to me, she took care of me while I was… a little sick, last night, and she’s only ever been nice to me.”

“Yeah, nice,” Liz said snorting. “Wrapped you around her fingers, but sure, nice.”

“Oh fuck you,” Jane said, and Liz burst out into laughter, followed by Marrin. Coco didn’t get it, but she made similar sounds, or tried to with her lack of lungs.

Great. Totally confused by my feelings for the pretty space doctor lady, and the only help I’m gonna get is from the tree hugging virgin and possibly the lady-in-question’s cousin. Juuust great.

Well at least there wasn’t a goalie. Jane felt a rush a relief knowing she wasn’t going to, should she make the attempt, home wreck anyone.

“Hey Marrin, what’s the general view on same gender relationships on Indos?” Liz asked.

“It isn’t of any consequence,” Marrin informed. “To go through life with another is a blessing, unrestricted.”

“Well at least you don’t have to worry about that, right Jane?”

“I’ve heard you humans have weird hang ups,” Marrin said.

“The humans are odd in general,” Coco stated. “I believe we are all late for our duties.”

“Coco is right, we gotta get to the lab,” Liz said, heading for the door. “Good luck hon!”

Marrin left as well, saying she’d… stay out of her way, in so many words.

Jane groaned and fell back flat on her bed.

Why was being human so hard?

[acourtofthought]

Not e/riels trying to compare Lucien to Mr. Collins 😂😂😂😂

Can you imagine if you told that to Sarah knowing she based Lucien off Jamie? Knowing that Sarah made him a rake in book 1 which means he's had no issues securing female companionship?

That's up their with those who said Gwyn looks like Gollum.

It's telling when Elucien's and Gwynriels never try to downplay that Elain and Az are attractive but merely point out why they aren't truly compatible while e/riels have to turn Lucien and Gwyn into evil, ugly trolls to convince themselves their ship is still happening.

If we're really going with P&P comparisons than it's safe to say Lucien would be Darcy (since Elizabeth outwardly did not like him while still being secretly drawn to him) while Az would be Elain's Mr. Wickham considering their relationship was built on attraction but no substance 🤷

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Okay you got me. Tell me about PP 1980

Okay, so XD

Imagine you had a BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice that was 5 hours long, faithful to the book, and yet having a different perspective/understanding/interpretation of the characters and the story? That's P&P 1980 in a nutshell, and I think it is worth watching just for that. But here are some other concrete things it has going for it, specially in relation to other adaptations:

The casting is closer in age than 95, and on one specific important case, closer than 05 too: Lady Catherine de Bourgh is played by an actress in her mid 40s, and she nails the absolute Opinionated Facebook AuntTM thing that the character has going in the novel.

It's not the only case of closer accuracy to the book in characters: Mr Collins is a young, tall, big guy, whose main issue is being very small minded, petty, and obsequent, instead of recurring to "he's greasy or slimy" as other adaptations do.

If you agree/like the "Darcy has autism" headcanon, this is the adaptation that leans the most heavily into it (it does overdo it, in my opinion, but there's a very interesting contrast between the flat affect of his facial expression, and the richness of inflexion in his voice)

Elizabeth Garvie's Lizzy is just... extraordinary. This adaptation circumvents the Jane-as-prettier-than-Lizzy issue by casting as Lizzy an actress with big, dark, very expressive eyes, small features and a very lively, sharp countenance and manners, whereas Jane's actress is tall and graceful and has a general air of kindness and sweetness, but in a very youthful way.

Speaking of Jane, this adaptation focuses much more on the sisters as sisters, and gives special emphasis to Lizzy's love for Jane, which I appreciate a lot.

Also speaking of Jane, Jane and Bingley are the cutest in this. They are given time, and he's kind and sociable and sweet without being an idiot. This adaptation includes that great line of his about how he wouldn't mind Darcy so much if he wasn't so tall, and the following comment about how Darcy can be fastidious of a Sunday evening.

That way, this adaptation includes several fan favorite scenes/lines that don't usually make it to adaptation, such as Darcy asking Lizzy to dance a reel, Lizzy playing and singing at a party in Meryton, Caroline teasing Darcy about putting uncle and aunt Phillips on the Pemberley portrait gallery, and the "I cannot fix the hour or the spot..." line. EDIT: also, the coffee pot scene!! and the rivalry between Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas!

I also think it balances well how awful, in different ways, both Mr and Mrs Bennet (EDIT: and she's not insufferably shrill!!!!) are as parents (unlike how 95 and 05 "pick sides"); it emphasizes how self centered her efforts are, and how lazy and callous he can be in his mockery and indolence.

The opening sequence of each episode is a roll of a hand-drawn summary of the events of the episode and that's such a lovely detail.

Mind you, the adaptation is not without its faults. The production values are not what we are accustomed to nowadays. Some acting and lines are stilted and/or awkward. It has the odd choice here and there that is involuntarily funny. But I don't think people need discouragement from seeing it. I don't even think most of the general Austen fandom is aware of its existence. For my part, it has become my favorite adaptation of P&P (that I have watched so far; I haven't gotten yet to either 1967 or the Italian one).

[lit-rants]

Why I Love Northanger Abbey.

Northanger Abbey is my favorite Jane Austen novel and believe me this is a conclusion that I have come to with much deliberation. The novel is a wonderful coming of age novel and is a parody of the gothic novels that were extremely popular. Catherine Morland, the naive seventeen year old heroine is an avid reader with a vivid imagination, so much so that her imagination distorts her sense of reality. The novel follows her while she embarks on her own adventures and meets the Tilney’s whose character and residence become a subject of great fascination for her. 

What set Catherine apart from the other heroines that Austen wrote is that she was simply an ordinary girl. She didn't have the wit and humor of Elizabeth or the faultlessness of Fanny or the beauty of Emma. She was simply a country girl who craved adventure and was too innocent for her own good. She wasn't worldly, she was clumsy and scatterbrained. She wears her heart on her sleeves and is terrible at hiding her honest feelings towards something. But in spite of her flaws she is charming and has good intentions. She stands up against peer pressure and is not afraid to apologize when she knows she has done wrong or stand up for herself and her loved ones.  

Let's talk about the hero though. Henry Tilney is my favorite Jane Austen hero. He is witty, funny and sarcastic and can make jokes. His lightheartedness makes him so endearing and charming and lets not forget his impressive skill in understanding muslin. He is so attentive to Catherine and makes her laugh. He knows when to indulge her in her fanatical ideas and when to ground her when she lets her overactive imagination get the better of her. When John Thorpe dismisses her hobby of reading novels, Henry shows genuine interest in what she reads and even gives his opinion without ridiculing or patronizing her. 

I loved the relationship between Catherine and Henry Tilney. I loved how open Catherine is about her feelings and so devoid of intrigues and mind games in order to attract his attention which is a stark contrast to Isabella. Moreover I think Austen did an amazing job at challenging the general convention of her time where the man is supposed to be the pursuer and the woman is supposed to play hard to get. Catherines transparency and innocence about her feelings is  refreshing and also the reason which makes Henry fall for her. 

I loved hating John Thorpe. Right from the start he is rude, manipulative, and a terrible conversationalist. He is probably the worst character Austen has written in the “men who cannot take a hint” trope (which includes Mr. Collins from Pride and Prejudice and Henry Crawford from Mansfield Park and such). He is boastful and only talks about his carriage and horses and has nothing to recommend him as a good partner. He manipulates and misleads General Tilney into believing that Catherine has a good fortune which when later proven to be false gets Catherine into trouble for no fault of hers.  There is a certain pleasure in knowing that he got what he deserved in the end.

[dionysiaproductions]

Today at Pemberley, The 28th of November:

The sun dawned brightly on a day of cold but not freezing weather. With firm ground and clear skies, it was the perfect circumstances for a walk in nature. Mr. Darcy suddenly realized that in the absence of his friends and relations from Pemberley, he had his wife’s company all to himself.

He invited Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy to walk through the woods and into town with him, where he would buy her a book in exchange for her drollest observations about the townspeople. 

She did not even pretend that she might turn down such a bespoke offer of activities. Instead of what her cousin, Mr. Collins would call, ‘delicate feminine dissimulation,’ she answered her husband very directly.

“I would be delighted, my love,” she said. “And when we are returned home, perhaps I could name our next activity for I can imagine other delights I would enjoy in your company.”

Previous days at Pemberley here

[imirisssss]

The 1995 BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice is truly one of the best book-to-screen adaptations ever made. 📚🎥 It's like watching the pages of Austen's masterpiece come to life. The casting? Absolutely spot on—everyone embodies their characters so perfectly, it’s hard to imagine anyone else in their roles. Colin Firth as Darcy? Chef’s kiss. 💫 And don’t even get me started on Jennifer Ehle’s Elizabeth Bennet—she’s everything I ever imagined and more.

But let’s talk about Mr. Collins for a second because that man is pure comedy gold. 😂 He’s so awkward, gloriously, and oblivious that I can’t help but crack up every time he’s on screen. I mean, come on—that scene where he sprints over to Elizabeth and Charlotte to announce they’re dining with Lady Catherine de Bourgh as if it’s the event of the century? I still laugh so hard I cry. And let’s not forget the iconic “closet scene”—this man is over the moon about a closet in the corner wall! Like, who gets that excited about storage? Mr. Collins, that’s who! 🤣

Honestly, if I ever had the chance to act, I’d want his role in a heartbeat. It’s too much fun to pass up. The cluelessness, the self-importance, the ridiculousness of it all—it’s just perfect. He’s like a walking punchline, and I love it. He’s the comedic relief Austen knew we all needed, and this adaptation nails his character to a tee. 🙌

[burningvelvet]

I’m almost done with Pride and Prejudice, only a few more chapters left. More quick rambles before I finish & give my final thoughts:

1 I actually screamed when Elizabeth got the news of Lydia and Wickham eloping and I still can’t believe it… I was hanging on the edge of my seat waiting to know if they were married in Scotland or not. I didn’t see this twist coming at all. it’s just too good.

2 Mr. Collins’ letter to to Mr. Bennet after the news of Lydia eloped with Wickham — but especially the line “the death of your daughter would have been a blessing in comparison of this” — is absolute gold and I laughed the entire time — he’s such a clown

3 I just knew Darcy would go and talk to Wickham after he saw Elizabeth crying. My mind immediately went to duelling but tbh Darcy’s not the duelling type. I did appreciate the line where Mrs. Bennet insinutes that her husband wants to duel Wickham though

4 of course I don’t know what happens yet or if there’s an epilogue but I personally already headcanon that Wickham and Lydia get a separation within a year — partly because he’s a rake (regency term for a player/fuckboy) but also because there’s a line about him originally wanting to seek a wife in another country — so I imagine Wickham pulling a Byron/Shelley and self-exiling to Italy and taking a bunch of mistresses or something and eventually dying young on the continent under mysterious circumstances related to his gambling debts & extravagances a la John Polidori, Scrope Berdmore Davies, Beau Brummell, Oscar Wilde, etc. — and yes, in the future he will be threatened to several more duels, just like Shelley and Byron.

[anghraine]

What are your opinions on Pride and Prejudice 1980 overall?

Would you say that it is a faithful adaptation? Would you recommend it to a P&P fan?

I'm very partial to it and I would rate it over the 1995. I know most people adore the 1995 version, though.

I love it!

I was just talking about my two favorite adaptational takes on P&P here, and the 1980 P&P is one of them.

It definitely has flaws, both as a work in its own right and as an adaptation. You were asking about how it functions as adaptation, so I'm going to focus on that, but the overall aesthetic is extremely 1979 on a limited budget. Some of the visual/narrative choices are very staid adaptationally (like showing Elizabeth reading Darcy's letter by ... literally showing Elizabeth reading the letter).

On the flip side, there are a few improbable divergences, most notably the rushed and peculiar presentation of the second proposal (though getting a glimpse of post-proposal Darcy and Elizabeth's happiness counts for a lot for me!). There's also stuff added that doesn't really change anything, but is arguably not faithful per se. And this is not always acknowledged by the fans it does still have. Personally, I love the weird instrumentation that follows Mr Collins around and Mr Hurst's anti-mountain agenda, but people's mileage may vary.

Beyond that, I love it as an adaptation that veers away from tapping into accessible (or caricatured) stereotypes the way the 1995 does. The 1980 P&P's characters really do feel to me like very specific and usually more nuanced interpretations of the original characters compared to basically every other version of P&P—not necessarily my interpretations, but I always feel like I can see where the interpretation is coming from, beyond appeals to contemporary audience sensibilities.

Elizabeth Garvie's Elizabeth is the jewel of the production for me—charming, lively, witty, vain, with a distinct tinge of sweetness that I think adaptations often lose sight of. It's honestly difficult to even say much about her because she is simply perfect to me.

David Rintoul's Darcy is probably my favorite Darcy, too. His demeanor isn't exactly what I personally imagine, to be sure (he's not as somberly brooding as Colin Firth's Darcy, but the spirited, smiling cleverness Darcy shares with Elizabeth isn't quite there for me). But I truly respect the choice to retain the general stiffness and formality of his character rather than reducing him to a more palatable love interest/sex object. He's allowed to be odd and to make us uncomfortable in a way I don't think other adaptations are willing to risk with him.

As for the others, Bingley, Jane, and Georgiana all give the impression of more substance to them than they usually get IMO. Mrs Bennet and Caroline are obnoxious but not particularly caricatured (without the adaptation seeming apologetic towards them, either). I love the stylish, younger Mrs Gardiner and Lady Catherine, and the relatively subtle versions of their personalities. Probably the only character choice that doesn't work adaptationally for me is the very harsh Mr Bennet, who lacks much of the endearing wit of the original—though even there, I can appreciate how unwilling the adaptation is to give him a pass (by stark contrast with the much cuddlier Mr Bennets of most other productions).

Would I call it faithful? Not universally, but it is the most engaged with the novel IMO. I don't think anything is so faithful that an adaptation can be a perfect interpretation that shouldn't ever be tried again and done better, but it is the most faithful P&P out there for me, still.

Would I recommend it to a P&P fan? That's a bit harder. It's aesthetically/cinematically dated and in some ways, it's better as interpretation than as television. For people who aren't used to that staid late 70s BBC approach ... idk, it can be a tough sell. I wouldn't casually recommend it, I guess, just because the contrast with the polish of the 1995 and the beauty of the 2005 is so stark. But for people who can look past that 70s BBC period drama baggage, there's a lot that's really interesting and engaging about it.

I certainly prefer it to the 1995, but since I intensely dislike the 1995, that's not saying a whole lot. It's probably more useful on my end to say that I just really love the 1980 P&P, despite having criticisms of it. I don't even know how many times I've watched it. For me, it's a joy.

[bethanydelleman]

I saw a post you reblogged at some point about Fanny being stuck in a time loop and it got me thinking: if the main men (both protagonists and antagonists) of the different Austen novels time travelled back to the day they first met their love interest/the start of the novel - whichever is latest so wentworth, knightley, and Edmund Bertram would travel to the day the main events of their novels start - who do you think would end up changing the least of the events and the most (intentionally or not)?

Because I feel like Knightley would change the least and Henry Tilney and the three S&S gents would come next. But like Wentworth would immediately throw the entire novel off track and like Darcy and Henry Crawford would come in close second trying to change their truly awful first impressions

(Also I just want to add that I really love your Austen takes and discussions 😊)

Thank you!

This is a fascinating idea. Here are my thoughts:

Wentworth just marches into Uppercross Cottage and proposes again. Doesn't even wait to be properly introduced to the family. He's getting Anne back NOW. (She says yes, of course)

I can imagine Darcy having a tiny little crisis as he decides if he really wants to be married to Elizabeth, maybe he could just not accompany Bingley to Netherfield and his life could go the way he planned... nah, he can't resist. Off to Netherfield he goes and he lets Bingley introduce him to Elizabeth at the assembly ball. Things progress unimpeded and by Christmas there is a double wedding and Wickham's character is known throughout Hertfordshire. He skips town and Lydia is packed off to Pemberley to benefit from some better society. (Side note: Mrs. Bennet would push Mr. Collins on Mary if she had any inclination that Darcy liked Elizabeth).

If Bingley knew everything, he'd never leave Jane. He'd return from London and marry her, no matter what Darcy or his sisters said. (I wrote that once actually)

Does Wickham count as a main? Because I don't want him having the ability to predict the future. Yikes on bikes!

Henry Crawford is very interesting, because does he actually understand where he went wrong? I'm not sure he does. Can he resist a flirtation with two very pretty sisters? That would be a fun fan fiction to write. Because if he went for Fanny right off the bat and she knew nothing else about him... he'd probably succeed with her, secret Edmund love or not. And she certainly wouldn't have a leg to stand on in refusing his proposal.

Does Edmund come back in the same timeline as Henry? That would be so agnsty! If not, he'd probably be doing whatever he could to keep Maria and Henry apart, but he's shockingly ineffective in canon, so would he even be able to change anything?

Henry Tilney would probably just try to prevent Catherine being sent home alone. He could easily come back early.

Mr. Knightley's best move would be to tell Robert Martin to propose in person. I doubt Harriet could have resisted. Then he could just sit back and watch everything else play out.

Honestly, I don't know if Frank Churchill would change a thing, other than making sure his final letter was posted to Jane. He enjoyed the subterfuge.

Poor Edward Ferrars has to travel back while engaged to Lucy? I feel like he wouldn't even want to relive the novel, there is nothing he can do anyway.

Colonel Brandon would probably change a lot. He could immediately save Eliza and challenge Willoughby. He might even spare Marianne from a lot of pain.

Reginald de Courcy (Lady Susan) would likely act as well and save Frederica earlier than in the novel.