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make-me-imagine · 3 years

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Request + Prompts: Mr. Bingley comforting the reader at a party after hearing someone talk bad about them? + “I wanted to know if you were okay” and/or “You don’t have to leave”

Pairing: Charles Bingley x Gender!Neutral Reader

Requested by: @thebookbakery

Triggers: None Words: 1.3k

Genre: Some angst + fluff (happy ending)

You smiled as you chatted away with the few close friends you had at the ball you were attending. Looking around you acknowledged some others you knew, as well as admired the celebration itself.

As your eyes met with another’s your breath hitched in your throat as you recognized the owner. Charles, or rather Mr. Bingley as would be the more proper way to refer to him, smiled widely at you and nodded his head in greeting. Smiling lightly and sending a small curtsy in his direction, you felt your face rush at the interaction.

You had known Charles for a few months now, having met when he and his sister moved into the town, you got along with him very well. You seemed very alike in personality and were seemingly very comfortable around each other. Being in his company was becoming a very fond thing for you. Though, you knew others would not see it that way.

The Bingley family were well off and well known, and your family was not, so there were many who did not think your friendship, or anything more, would be suitable. You knew his sister felt this way as well, she would pretend to like your company and would compliment you when you were visiting, but you knew better. You saw the looks she gave you when she thought you were not looking, and the quiet whispers to her companions as she giggled and glanced in your direction. But you did not care what she thought of you, only what Charles thought.

However tonight, you could not help but be effected by the way you were treated behind your back. As you moved from a small group of acquaintances you wandered over to one of your friends to say hello, faltering in your step when you heard a nearby conversation between some more wealthy members of the party.

“I am surprised that they are even here, they certainly stand out in a crowd, and not in a good way.” they whispered, followed by giggles.

Another woman speaking up “To think they are an acquaintance of the Bingleys, you know, some say that Mr. Bingley has his eye on them, however-” she chuckled “They most certainly are not worthy of carrying the Bingely name, they are a nobody, they do not belong.” the comment was followed by more giggles.

Your eyes fell onto them, an emotion of shock and anger in them, which caught the gossiping women off guard as they silenced themselves and looked away.

Instead of approaching your friend you turned and made your way through the crowd. You no longer wanted to be in the presence of such rude and judgmental people. How many others were whispering about you behind your back? Were they right? Yes, they were. This was not a place you belonged. The riches, the money. But you didn’t care about those things. You simply wanted to be happy. But you were stupid to think that you could find happiness with Charles Bingley, especially when you knew of the company his family held.

As you fled, you were unaware of the figure following quickly behind you. Charles had been just behind the group of women and overheard what they were saying. He was unsure of who they were talking about until his eyes landed on you, he could see the offense and sadness on your face, followed by your angry glare at the women before you turned and fled from the party. He was quick to follow, not wanting you to leave, and wanting to make sure you were alright.

You couldn’t help the small build up of tears in your eyes. You damned yourself for letting yourself get emotional. You were stronger than this. You collected your shawl and made your way towards the door, alone in the foyer, you did not care that your family was still in the party, you would walk home if need be.

“Y/n?” the voice came suddenly, soft from behind you.

Turning quickly you turned to see Charles approaching you slowly, as though he was approaching a scared animal. You straightened up and put on a fake smile before curtsying slightly “Mr. Bingley. Uh, I do not feel well so I thought I might take my leave a bit early.”

“I heard what those women said” he spoke, catching you off guard. How had he heard? You did not see him. “I wanted to know if you were okay.”

You looked down shyly at your feet before looking back up at him “I-” you were unsure of how to respond. You sighed in resignation “They were right, I do not belong here.” you began to turn away from him again.

“You don’t have to leave.” he said quickly before walking closer to you “Please, don’t leave.”

You looked back at him, head still down slightly “I cannot listen to anymore of their poisonous words Char-” you cut yourself off before saying his name, you should not become so comfortable “Mr. Bingley” you corrected.

His face fell slightly at this, taking one more step closer his countenance seemed to become a bit more bashful as he was now standing in front of you “They were wrong. You have every right to be here. Your company is much more favorable to me than there’s will ever be. I am the one who is unworthy of having you as a companion.” he took the smallest step closer to you, that made you hold your breath as he looked into your eyes, before reaching out slowly and taking your hand in his “I would never recover if you were to stop seeing me, if you were to listen to those women. I do not think the same things as them. I do not care that your family is of a lower status than us, that should not matter, it does not. I simply-” he paused as he squeezed your hand slightly ”I simply wish, for you to stay. With me.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind flashing back to those women “They will simply whisper even more, they will not stop.”

“I don’t care. Let them say what they wish, there lies and insults will not stop the truth from being the truth.”

“What is the truth?”

Charles became even more bashful in countenance as he smiled at you “That you are worthy of the Bingley name” your eyes widened in surprise as he continued “And that you are the most amazing person I have ever met, and that, I love you.” he finished his confession in a little more than a whisper.

You opened your mouth to speak but remained silent, only able to smile in shock, you shook your head slightly, as if pulling yourself together “Charles” you said exasperated. He smiled at this, oh how he loved when you said his name.

“Marry me Y/n” he said, continuing to surprise you. Seeing this, he took your other hand in his and held them close to his chest “Please.”

You let out a surprised laugh as our eyes grew moist with emotion, you grinned at him before nodding your head “Yes, I will.”

Charles grinned at your acceptance before pulling you gently towards him and kissing you. After a moment you pulled away and rested your foreheads against one another as he spoke quietly “We will not tell them yet, simply, go in together, and let them see that the did not win. And when they do learn of our engagement, they will be the ones to leave in embarrassment.”

You smiled at him as he straightened up, reaching out his arm for you to take. Looping your arm into his he lead you back into the main room. You noticed the immediate whispers of the same women from before, as well as the curious and dismayed look from his sister. But as Charles looked at you and smiled, you no longer cared about their gossiping words. Because no matter what they thought or said, they had no say in your happiness.

xx End xx

((Bonus Fun Fact: The Actor that plays Mr. Bingley in P&P 1995 is Crispin Bonham-Carter; Helena Bonham-Carter’s third cousin once removed))

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 3 years

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@sicktember Prompt # 8: Contagious

Title: Unexpected Developments

Fandom: Pride and Prejudice

Prompt inspired by @chezsnez . The prompt: “What if in P&P when Jane gets sick at Netherfield, the other guests catch her cold and Lizzie ends up having to take care of Darcy. Kinda like enemies to lovers but with enemies to caretaker.” Thank you as always for the wonderful ideas, my friend!

Jane Bennett’s cold has spread to all the guests at Netherfield, hitting some worse than others. How will Lizzie respond when she finds proud, arrogant Mr. Darcy sneezing miserably and running a fever?

Elizabeth stepped out into the hall, closing the door on Jane's sickroom behind her. Jane was lying down to rest, so Lizzie was left to her own devices for the next hour or two. With no obligation to visit with the rest of the guests today, she had decided to wander a bit to stretch her legs and familiarize herself with more of Netherfield. As she walked, she let her mind wander as idly as her feet.

"We're certain to never be asked back here again," Lizzie sighed to herself after a bit. While Lizzie herself didn't much care, Jane and her mother would be devastated.

The cold Jane had caught on her ill-fated horseback ride to Netherfield had proved to be very contagious. Charles and Caroline Bingley had succumbed to it quickly. At luncheon the day after Elizabeth arrived to care for her sister, the siblings were seen to have dark circles under their eyes, with nostrils tinged a raw-looking pink. Caroline was forced to press a handkerchief to her dripping nose more than once through the course of the meal, while Charles kept painfully coughing into his. Caroline retired immediately after the meal, complaining of a headache and did not return. Charles sent his apologies down just before supper, saying he too had taken ill and would be staying in his room. Walking past Caroline's door later while checking on Jane, Lizzie heard her sneezing so miserably that Eliza felt a touch of sympathy for the unpleasant woman.

Mr. Darcy had been the one to carry the news of Bingley's illness to the rest of the party, but Elizabeth had hardly seen him since. She gathered he was either passing the time in his own room or else keeping Charles company. It seemed his immune system was hearty, for he hadn't seemed ill when she had last spoken to him.

Several days had now elapsed since the onset of Jane's illness, and the eldest Bennett sister was doing much better, and in fact really had no need of a caregiver anymore, though she had said more than once that she was glad Elizabeth was there for the company. With any luck, the sisters would be able to go home in a few days, as long as the others had recovered as well. Elizabeth found this thought encouraging as she continued to explore.

Eventually she came to a hallway at the far side of the house that she was sure would be a dead end and likely empty, but she preferred to look at it anyway, for perhaps it would have a nice view out the window. The hallway was in fact a dead end, but was far from empty.

Coming around the corner, she stopped short, for at the end of the hallway and facing the window was Mr. Darcy. With some amusement she realized he was about to sneeze, for he was hunched over with his handkerchief pressed to his face and his breath hitching desperately.

"Heh-ZZZIIIH'shieww! HIIHHK'choo!" He did his best to muffle the sound into his handkerchief, but was mostly unsuccessful. The sneezes were wet and miserable-sounding, and while Elizabeth couldn't see his face, she could imagine his equally miserable expression, for he sneezed like someone with a thick, burgeoning head cold.

She had a choice to make. She could very easily walk away and pretend she had seen nothing, leaving him and his cold to their own devices. After all, the fact that he had hidden away in this corner indicated that he didn't want to be discovered, and while he had been overall civil to her since she had come to stay here, his haughty pride and past treatment of her were not quickly forgotten. Or, she could offer him aid.

"Hih'GEHH'shuuh!" This 3rd sneeze, whether part of the trio or on its own (it was hard to be sure) was the most desperate and miserable sounding of them all. His shoulders slumped wearily as he tended to his nose in the aftermath, and she thought she heard him say something like "ick" as he did so as well.

"Bless you, sir," said Elizabeth boldly, coming fully into the hallway. He leapt around as if he'd been shot, his face reddening. She could see him frantically trying to think of a way to explain himself.

"My apologies," he muttered at last, gruffly. "That was most undignified."

"You have no need to apologize, for you didn't know I was here. It is I who should apologize for startling you. However, I wanted to ask after your health, for you sound most unwell."

"I am fine," he muttered, clearly uncomfortable. Looking closer at him, Lizzie saw the flush over his face might not be due entirely to embarrassment, but perhaps also to fever, for his eyes had the same unhealthy cast she had seen in Jane's eyes only a few days before. He was also swaying slightly where he stood, and had a dampness of sweat along his hairline.

"Might I offer to accompany you to your room, sir? You look as if you needed to lie down for a spell."

"That is… unnecessary. I can…." He cut himself off with a rough cough. She could tell he was desperately trying to think of an excuse as to why she shouldn't be the one assisting him. However, they both knew that Charles was sick (quite sick, if the murmurs she'd heard from the staff were to be believed), and that all the servants were overworked as it was with taking care of their master and his sister.

"I'm sure you're quite busy with your sister. You need not concern yourself with me," he finally rasped.

"On the contrary, she is resting peacefully, while you are positively trembling and look to be on the verge of collapse from fever. Take my arm and we shall see you to your quarters."

Mr. Darcy hesitated another moment, still casting around for some excuse. Knowing what needed to be done, Elizabeth moved to his side and gently linked her arm around his. She felt her heart flutter as their hands made brief contact. The fleeting thought crossed her mind that this was the first time they had touched. She had certainly imagined it occurring under different circumstances. Shaking away such thoughts, she started to walk, leading the much taller man toward his quarters. Mr. Darcy was enough of a gentleman to follow without further protest.

As they walked, both of Mr. Darcy's arms were occupied, for the hand that wasn't linked with Elizabeth's was busy pressing his handkerchief to his face. Every few steps his shoulders would twitch, either from a stifled cough or a thick sniffle. She could sense he was desperately trying not to sneeze again. Between that and the fact that his large form was positively radiating heat, Elizabeth found herself quite distracted by him, and watched him intently out of the corner of her eye. The walk was a quiet one, for Elizabeth didn’t want to burden him with conversation when he was clearly otherwise engaged, not to mention ill.

They made it to his room without interruption, sneezing or otherwise. She allowed him to open the door, then she ushered them both in, with more than a little awkwardness on all sides. Mr. Darcy went immediately to sit on his bed, sinking down as if compelled by gravity, leaning his head into his hands as he continued to tremble.

"A headache troubles you as well, then?" she asked after observing his motionless form for a moment.

He nodded pathetically, not looking up. Out of nowhere, and startling them both, his breath hitched violently before a pair of sneezes erupted out of him. Thankfully they were directed at the floor. He pressed his damp handkerchief to his nose hastily, glancing at her and looking embarrassed.

"Forgive me," he muttered thickly, which was followed up with a cough.

"You need not waste your breath asking forgiveness every time you sneeze when you have a cold, for you have precious little breath to spare as it is. However, I must ask, why did you not alert someone of your illness? You are quite unwell, Mr. Darcy. Anyone can see it plainly."

"I did not want to be a bother, as everyone else was also ill. I thought it best to tend to myself."

"Whether or not you alerted someone, you shouldn't have gotten out of bed today. You've certainly made yourself worse by doing so."

He only groaned softly.

Elizabeth sighed to herself. "Please, if I may, let me help you feel more comfortable. You need to rest."

Hesitantly she approached him as he looked up to finally meet her eyes. With a gentle touch she guided him to sit up straighter, then deftly removed his cravat. She sensed more than heard his sigh of relief once it was off, and found herself letting her hand rest on his hot cheek under the pretense of checking his fever. He seemed to enjoy the touch immensely. Her eyes lingered on his face as he sat with his eyes closed, and many thoughts and feelings competed for space in her mind. She did her best to suppress them all.

After a moment though, she broke the spell, and continued to help him remove his jacket, waistcoat, boots and stockings. He assisted as best he could with these attentions, but said nothing, merely following her every move with his guarded, intense gaze. Once the garments were set aside and he was looking much more loose and comfortable, if also embarrassed to be seen in such an undressed state, she pressed a glass of water into his hands and watched as he drank it down.

She took the glass from him, and setting it down, took up a cold, wet rag. She placed it against the back of his neck and was rewarded with a relieved sigh. From there she bathed the rest of his neck and the bit of chest that was visible, ensuring her gaze stayed far from his, but unable to help a bit of a blush creeping over her cheeks at such acts of intimacy with such a person. With continued gentleness, she pressed him back against the pillows. The movement of course made him cough pitifully. Soaking the cloth once more, she laid it on his forehead and left it there as she straightened the pillows around him.

That done, they simply surveyed each other for a moment. Mr. Darcy looked ill and altogether unimposing, lying in bed as he was, with tired circles under his eyes, a hacking cough, and a dripping nose.

"Are you feeling any better?" she asked hesitantly.

"Some," he grunted. "Now that I'm lying down."

"Excellent. Are you hungry at all? I think perhaps you should eat something."

His intense stare and large, warm presence were making her nervous all over again and causing her to seek escape from the small room.

"I suppose I could eat," he murmured.

"Yes, good. Then let me go fetch you some soup. I'll be back soon." She bustled out of the room immediately, a blush rising to her face, of uncertain cause. She did her best to quiet her racing thoughts as she sped toward the kitchen.

Mr. Darcy, for his part, was totally smitten with her. He was now convinced her fine eyes were the centerpiece of her completely wonderful countenance and figure. He watched the space where the corner of her skirt had disappeared intently, waiting for her return and recalling again and again the feel of her cool hand on his face.

(Part 1 of 2)

#sicktember2021 #sickfic #everyone is hotter with a fever #prompt 8

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bluecoffeemondays · 2 years

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For Want of a Dowry | Chapter Three

Chapter Two

Chapter Three (Part 4 / 22)

“My God, Darce, now you’ve really done it.”

Darcy blinked. Very rarely did Bingley have such an exasperated tone in conversation with him.

“What have I done?”

“Gone and ticked off the mother of Miss Bennet, who I was rather hoping to get to know better.”

“Oh, please, Charles. The fact that the woman gave Mr. Darcy the cut direct is not exactly indicative of a well-ordered mind. It seems to me that you have avoided the most inconvenient of acquaintances.” Darcy could feel the intensity of Miss Bingley’s stare on him but kept his eyes trained on the inky blackness of the twilight through the large window in Netherfield’s largest parlor.

Even though he was almost entirely turned away, Darcy could see Bingley’s uncharacteristic frown. “She gave you the cut direct?”

“Yes,” Darcy said, unconcerned.

“You are aware she is one of the principal families in the neighborhood I now reside in, yes? What could you have possibly done that was so bad?”

A tense pause. Darcy turned to face Bingley et al.

“Do you remember the–er–discussion we had about one of Miss Bennet’s sisters?”

Bingley’s face went white. “You mean to say that she heard you calling her daughter ugly?”

“No, and I didn’t call her ugly; I called her tolerable,” Darcy said before amending, “I believe the younger Miss Bennet might have overheard us.” He remembered clearly catching the lady’s dark, glittering eyes and then flushed at the recollection. He had known that she could hear them, just as he had known it was impolite (not to mention dishonest) to say.

“Good lord,” Bingley said, looking almost amused, “It’s that natural Darcy charm, is it?”

“Well, I don’t see what’s so wrong with being called tolerable,” Miss Bingley sniffed, walking nearer to Darcy, who stiffened uncomfortably, “It must be considered a compliment, especially coming from you, Mr. Darcy.”

“Yes, definitely, Caroline,” her brother said, now unmistakably amused. “I’d like to imagine you would be perfectly composed and flattered if Darcy called you tolerable.”

Darcy refused to take the bait. Miss Bingley shot daggers at Bingley and then Mrs. Hurst, who snorted and immediately staged a coughing fit.

“Well, anyhow,” said Bingley hastily, moving to stand between his two sisters and glancing desperately over at the slumbering Mr. Hurst on the settee, “There’s nothing for it, Darce. You’re going to have to apologize.”

Loud protests from Miss Bingley drowned out Darcy’s “I beg your pardon?” both of which were ignored by their host.

“Look, you’ve slighted the sister of a lady I’d like to be better acquainted with,” Bingley said in an un-Bingley serious way, “Not to mention, she’s very well-liked by the whole neighborhood: I heard not one bad report about her, except for her protectiveness toward her sisters which reveals an affection towards her family that is very pleasing. In any case, I can hardly live in a place where my presence is a painful reminder of an insult to one of the principal families, can I?”

Darcy knew his friend was right. He also didn’t want to make Bingley’s stay in the country, no matter how short-lived, unpleasant because of an oversight on his part.

So, to the protestations of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, who saw groveling beneath them, agreed to call on Miss Elizabeth and her sisters the following day.

“He’s just what a young man ought to be, Lizzy,” said Jane the morning after the Meryton assembly. The eldest Bennet sisters were employed in overseeing the arrangement of baskets for their tenants and finally had a moment alone to discuss the previous night’s engagements. “Sensible, good-humored, lively–and I never saw such happy manners!”

“He is also handsome,” Elizabeth said, smiling, “which a young man ought likewise to be if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete.”

“Lizzy!” Jane brought her hand to her mouth, covering an indulgent smile, and looking away from the basket she was supposed to be approving, “I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I did not expect such a compliment.”

“Did not you? I did for you. Compliments always take you by surprise and me never. But what could have been more natural than asking you a second time? He could not help but notice that you were about five times as pretty as every other woman in the room. Yes, I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person.”

“Dearest Lizzy, how you like to jest.”

“Truly, Jane, I am not. I would have been greatly affronted, you know, if he hadn’t asked for your hand the second time. The first, of course, was most gallant of him. He asked me one time too, you know, and it’s been said I’m only tolerable. The second showed a real preference.”

“It was very wrong of Mr. Darcy to say that, Lizzy. Not to mention, wholly without basis.” Jane’s features were contorted with genuine sympathy, and Elizabeth wished she hadn’t brought it up at all.

“Ah, well,” Elizabeth grinned, hoping to convince Jane that her equilibrium had been entirely recovered after the insults of the previous night, “Now I have the advantage of knowing at least one man in my acquaintance that is not desirous of the money I’d bring to the match. Not that it is a match for 10,000 a year!” she raised her voice in an imitation of the shrill gossipers from last night.

“I hope you are not speaking of that odious man, Miss Lizzy.” Their mother had bustled into the room carrying a load of wildflowers the younger girls had gathered that morning.

“Only in passing, Mama.”

“Pray, do not mention him at all! I will never recover from the insults of last night.”

“One would think,” Elizabeth said in a slightly raised tone, “That you had been the receiver of the slight.”

“Oh my dear, no, but I was paid the greatest insult! To have one’s daughter called ugly–why, I have never been so offended in my life.”

Jane made a meaningful look at Elizabeth and busied herself with dispersing the flowers in the baskets.

“I found it rather refreshing, Mama,” Elizabeth said, maintaining a perfectly straight face, “To meet a man who was not immediately in pursuit of my dowry. At least now we can begin our acquaintance on equal terms without care to the trivialities of money.”

“How can you think that Elizabeth, when–,” Mrs. Bennet’s eyes narrowed. “You are speaking in jest.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Pray do not tease your mother like that. She is but an old woman, merely trying to get her five daughters well-matched and settled before she departs this earth.”

“You are hardly an old woman, Mama,” said Jane with a gentleness Elizabeth would not have had, “and you are in perfect health.”

“Oh my dear, you are too kind. When a lady has five grown-up daughters, however, she ought not to make pretensions to any sort of youth.”

“You could have had only four grown-up daughters if you had waited a year or two for Lydia to enter society,” Elizabeth snapped, unable to contain herself.

“Don’t take that tone with me, Miss Lizzy,” her mother responded in kind, “What was the point of keeping her in? She was so lonely in the schoolroom and jealous of you all for your parties and balls. Now at least I know she won’t do something foolish such as trying to sneak out.” And from that, Elizabeth suspected her mother still blamed her for the events of last year when Lydia had, in fact, tried to sneak out to an assembly her sisters were all in attendance.

“She could still do something foolish such as elope,” Elizabeth retorted brazenly and was gratified by Jane’s shocked gasp.

“She could,” Her mother admitted, “but as with all of you, the money is not to be settled upon her without the express approval of one or both of her parents–or until she reaches her majority, which is safely half a dozen years away.”

“Very clever,” said Elizabeth with asperity, “If only you could be certain that if Lydia did happen to fall in love at an age past her majority, that the subject of her heart would be a very wealthy, very titled man.”

Mrs. Bennet’s eyebrows raised. “Of course, I can’t be certain of that, Elizabeth. No one can. I can only be certain that my daughters will not be denied an offer of marriage on account of a lack of money. We may not be of the first circles or even extraordinarily wealthy, but no one will accuse my girls of not being cared for.”

A bit of silence followed that incredible speech. Elizabeth stared at her mother, openmouthed. Jane recovered first.

“No one could accuse you of that, Mama,” Jane said gently, reaching out her open hand to take one of her mother’s. “You have been generous indeed in your care for us.”

Their mother sniffed. “Of course I have. How many other mothers do you know that forfeit so much of their own money for their daughters? Now, girls, really–do hurry up with those baskets so we might distribute them on time.”

The eldest Miss Bennets watched their mother go, purpose and verve in her step.

Jane shook her head and arranged vegetables and bread in the basket before her. Elizabeth picked up a cluster of flowers tied together with a bit of twine.

“Poor Mama,” Jane said quietly, “Always so caught up in ensuring our future security, she cannot enjoy her own. We won’t be so very poor entering the marriage state, will we?”

“No, indeed,” Elizabeth said, arranging the flowers in the bouquet she was holding, “With the initial £2000 Mama and Papa settled on us plus the 150 our Uncles gifted us invested at the time of our birth, we’d have over six times what Mama had when she married Papa–provided we all marry around your age, dearest. But with the combined 15 pounds a month between Uncles Phillips and Gardiner and Papa and Mama–well. If you were to marry your Mr. Bingley tomorrow, you’d be bringing just over 34,000 pounds to the marriage, assuming an average return on investment of ten percent.”

Jane blushed in her Jane-like way. “He’s not my Mr. Bingley, Lizzy.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth could not help but smile, “I think he is. Or he very soon will be.”

The two sisters smiled at each other. Then, “How did you calculate my settlement so quickly?”

“Oh.” It was Elizabeth’s turn to blush. “I did it last night after the assembly. I’ve never felt that I’ve had a sister so close to the precipice of marriage, and I wanted to see what Mama’s efforts had amounted to in that quarter.”

“Lizzy!” Jane laughed, “How perfectly wrong of you.”

“Capital offense!” Elizabeth joked, twirling the bouquet around her wrist.

Mrs. Hill, the longtime housekeeper of Longbourn, materialized at the door.

“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth,” she wheezed, from having run down the stairs, “Two gentlemen here to call on you.”

“Two?”

“Yes, Miss Elizabeth, a Mr. Bingley and a Mr. Darcy.” Mrs. Hill spoke with a hint of disdain, no doubt having heard the tragic tale of the slights of last evening.

A look was exchanged between the sisters. “Tell them we’ll be right up, Hill,” Jane said, grabbing Elizabeth’s hand. In her other, the bouquet of flowers remained, quite forgotten.

Elizabeth and Jane ascended the steps, minds racing with possibilities, yet neither could have fathomed the truth of the matter.

Author’s Note (April 7, 2022)

This section was updated on the above date after a prudent observation by multiple readers: it makes sense that Uncle Gardiner would have recommended the investment of the girl’s dowries. In addition, I’ve thrown in 5 pounds per month for each girl from Mr. Bennet and an additional £1 per month from Mr. Gardiner, which rounds it out at a nice £15/month (£180/year). I’ve also updated the initial amount from 1500 to 2150, assuming that Uncle Gardiner contributed £100 and Uncle Phillips £50 to each girl on their birth. Mrs. Bennet persuaded her husband to put down another £500 on each girl, which puts us at 2150 pounds as the initial sum. The historical return on investment rate is a respectable 10 percent, so I used that as the average. That, of course, more than tripled the dowries, which makes the story so much more interesting. Thanks, everyone!

Chapter Four

#pride and prejudice #jane austen #elizabeth bennet #mr darcy #fanfic

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rockislandadultreads · 3 years

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Mysteries, But Set in the Past: a list

Death Comes to Pemberley by P.D. James

A rare meeting of literary genius: P. D. James, long among the most admired mystery writers of our time, draws the characters of Jane Austen’s beloved novel Pride and Prejudice into a tale of murder and emotional mayhem. It is 1803, six years since Elizabeth and Darcy embarked on their life together at Pemberley, Darcy’s magnificent estate. Their peaceful, orderly world seems almost unassailable. Elizabeth has found her footing as the chatelaine of the great house. They have two fine sons, Fitzwilliam and Charles. Elizabeth’s sister Jane and her husband, Bingley, live nearby; her father visits often; there is optimistic talk about the prospects of marriage for Darcy’s sister Georgiana. And preparations are under way for their much-anticipated annual autumn ball. Then, on the eve of the ball, the patrician idyll is shattered. A coach careens up the drive carrying Lydia, Elizabeth’s disgraced sister, who with her husband, the very dubious Wickham, has been banned from Pemberley. She stumbles out of the carriage, hysterical, shrieking that Wickham has been murdered. With shocking suddenness, Pemberley is plunged into a frightening mystery. Inspired by a lifelong passion for Austen, P. D. James masterfully re-creates the world of Pride and Prejudice, electrifying it with the excitement and suspense of a brilliantly crafted crime story, as only she can write it.

Garden of Lies by Amanda Quick

The Kern Secretarial Agency provides reliable professional services to its wealthy clientele, and Anne Clifton was one of the finest women in Ursula Kern’s employ. But Miss Clifton has met an untimely end—and Ursula is convinced it was not due to natural causes. Archaeologist and adventurer Slater Roxton thinks Mrs. Kern is off her head to meddle in such dangerous business. Nevertheless, he seems sensible enough to Ursula, though she does find herself unnerved by his self-possession and unreadable green-gold eyes… If this mysterious widowed beauty insists on stirring the pot, Slater intends to remain close by as they venture into the dark side of polite society. Together they must reveal the identity of a killer—and to achieve their goal they may need to reveal their deepest secrets to each other as well…

Above the Bay of Angels by Rhys Bowen

Isabella Waverly only means to comfort the woman felled on a London street. In her final dying moments, she thrusts a letter into Bella’s hand. It’s an offer of employment in the kitchens of Buckingham Palace, and everything the budding young chef desperately wants: an escape from the constrictions of her life as a lowly servant. In the stranger’s stead, Bella can spread her wings.

Arriving as Helen Barton from Yorkshire, she pursues her passion for creating culinary delights, served to the delighted Queen Victoria herself. Best of all, she’s been chosen to accompany the queen to Nice. What fortune! Until the threat of blackmail shadows Bella to the Riviera, and a member of the queen’s retinue falls ill and dies.

Having prepared the royal guest’s last meal, Bella is suspected of the poisonous crime. An investigation is sure to follow. Her charade will be over. And her new life will come crashing down—if it doesn’t send her to the gallows.

Frog Music by Emma Donoghue

Summer of 1876: San Francisco is in the fierce grip of a record-breaking heat wave and a smallpox epidemic. Through the window of a railroad saloon, a young woman named Jenny Bonnet is shot dead. The survivor, her friend Blanche Beunon, is a French burlesque dancer. Over the next three days, she will risk everything to bring Jenny's murderer to justice--if he doesn't track her down first. The story Blanche struggles to piece together is one of free-love bohemians, desperate paupers, and arrogant millionaires; of jealous men, icy women, and damaged children. It's the secret life of Jenny herself, a notorious character who breaks the law every morning by getting dressed: a charmer as slippery as the frogs she hunts. In thrilling, cinematic style, FROG MUSIC digs up a long-forgotten, never-solved crime. Full of songs that migrated across the world, Emma Donoghue's lyrical tale of love and bloodshed among lowlifes captures the pulse of a boomtown like no other.

#mystery #mysteries #mystery books #historical fiction #romance #fiction #book recs #recommended reading #reading recommendations #library #booklr #books to read #tbr #to read #currently reading #adult fiction

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acatimpersonatingahuman · 4 years

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Pride and Prejudice (2005)

I just (yesterday) rewatched the movie, and I took some notes so I could comment on it because I believe this movie is a fucking masterpiece.

• At the ball in the beginning, when Charles Bingley and entourage haven’t even arrived, there’s a very enthusiastic cellist who looks like he’s one of the musketeers.

• Okay, in the book this was different, but Fitzwilliam Darcy having to look twice at Elizabeth Bennet upon entering the ballroom? I’m here for it.

• Sorry, but Mr Bennet being at the ball makes no sense whatsoever.

• Oh, Mr Bingley is smiling so much, I would love to be friends with him.

• Also, Darcy keeps staring at Lizzy. Look at me, son, and tell me to my face that you’re not in love already.

• Mary Bennet is a fucking mood.

• Also, I know other people have pointed that out already, but Matthew Macfadyen absolutely nailed the awkwardness of Darcy

• Darcy just told Bingley that Lizzy is barely tolerable and not handsome enough to tempt him and yet he’s staring at her the whole time.

• Also, Lizzy talking to Jane and Charlotte about Jane and Bingley is me about @strebelychocolate and her now boyfriend in like, grade six

• “Dancing. Even if one’s partner is barely tolerable.” I’m so sorry that you have to go through this, Lizzy, but at least you drag Darcy through the mud. Or, in other words: You go girl!

• The breakfast the next morning. The girls dine in character. I love it.

• Lydia and Kitty Bennet are...so not me.

• Also, I hate Miss Bingley, lol.

• Lizzy and Darcy stare at each other sooooo much.

• Bro, all the women pick on Mary except for Elizabeth and Jane. Like calm down, you’re hurting her.

• Darcy helped Lizzy into the carriage. They touched hands! I love it.

• Fuck Mr Collins.

• Mr Wickham is also an asshole. I hate him so much more than Miss Bingley. Maybe even more than Mr Collins.

• Mr Collins being the smallest of the men in the ballroom is absolutely hilarious to me.

• At the ball, Charlotte Lucas and Lizzy walking, laughing, after Collins just danced with Lizzy. The girls stop. The camera pans out. Darcy is stood there in front of them. He asks Lizzy for the next dance. Fucking filming masterpiece and although a small one, one of my favourite scenes.

• One of the next scenes, when it changes from Darcy and Lizzy dancing amongst the other people to them dancing alone in a room. Fucking masterpiece.

• Mr Bennet is a treasure and should be treated as such. I love him. Making his daughter choose between him and her mother based on whether or not she marries Mr Collins? Fucking icon.

• Have I mentioned that I love this movie?

• Oh my god, I’m in love with the lighting in the scene at Rosings (in which Catherine de Bourgh commands Lizzy to play the pianoforte).

• There’s an extra in the shot where Lizzy and Colonel Fitzwilliam talk about Darcy that is very cute.

• The scene in the rain? A masterpiece.

• “I love you.” Awkward pause. “Most ardently.” Love, Darcy, have you ever heard of good timing? You didn’t have to pause there.

• Also, the soundtrack. Kudos to Dario Marianelli.

• “I’m very fond of walking.” “Yes. Yes, I know.” And I love you, you two awkward morons.

• Mary is me, I am Mary.

• Also, Darcy is me, I am Darcy.

• Darcy’s clothes open gradually over the course of the movie. When he walks over the meadow, his shirt’s first few buttons are unbuttoned. It’s the most open his clothing has ever been, and the most open and vulnerable he has ever been. Bravo to the costume department.

• Mr Bennet is so emotional about the fact that Lizzy is in love with Darcy, but seriously, aren’t we all.

I’m honestly in love with the cinematography and just everything about this movie.

That’s also something that I have paid increasing amounts of attention to. Maybe that’s something I could make a job? Who knows...

Also, I’m currently rereading the book, so I will probably talk about it and the differences between book and movie over the next week or so.

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taylorinthetardis · 3 years

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Only Human - Chapter 2

Alright! Here’s the second chapter for Only Human. The gang go clubbing! Will is extra weird! You guys get a glimpse at my basic ass taste in music! Hooray!

The songs I had in mind for this chapter are:

Good as Hell by Lizzo (playing when they walk in) YOUTH by Troye Sivan (playing when they go downstairs) False God by Taylor Swift (plays when Darcy watches Lizzie dance) Only Human by Jonas Brothers (plays when Lizzie tries to get Darcy to dance)

Again I’d like to thank my good friend @madbaddic7ed for her encouragement and for convincing me to cross post this story.

I hope you all like this chapter. Please feel free to leave feedback and if you want to be added to a taglist for when I finally update, please let me know!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22109365

Only Human

Summary: The events of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice as seen through the eyes of Darcy. Story takes place in modern day London. Lizzy and Jane are American students studying abroad. Their sisters take turns visiting them throughout the story. Bingley and Darcy are recent business partners, but longtime friends. Caroline is as snake-ish as ever. George Wickham is an actual rapist - the rape will not be described in detail.

Pairing: William (Will) Darcy x Elizabeth (Lizzie) Bennet; Charles Bingley x Jane Bennet

Rating: Explicit due to eventual smut

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, some dirty thoughts

Word Count: 3.5K

Chapter 2: Lock 17

The five of us piled into the back of the cab. Charles and Jane took the two seats facing the back of the cab, leaving myself to sit on the bench seat between Lizzie and Caroline. Lizzie stretched her legs out across the back of the cab. The lights of London illuminated the back of the cab and I got a good look at her combat boots. Caroline did as well.

“Do you see her boots? That’s at least six inches of mud!” She wrinkled her nose in disgust like Lizzie had dog shit on her shoes. It definitely isn’t. But I mean yeah, they’re muddy, she basically lives in a park, what’d you expect?

“I am sitting right here. They aren’t that muddy and they aren’t on your feet so, why do you care?” Jesus Christ, I love her. Lizzie shot a look across the cab to her sister. Jane returned it with one that clearly said “Be nice”. Why should she be if Caroline is going to be a cunt?

“Caroline, be nice.” Is that all you have to offer here Charles? Thankfully, the rest of cab ride passed mostly in silence, with Jane and Lizzie occasionally chiming in with remarks about the area. Having been in the city for nearly two months, they had gotten to know the area surrounding Regent’s quite well it seemed. Blessedly, it was a short ride from Charles’ house to Lock 17, traffic not being nearly as unbearable at eight on a Thursday night. I couldn’t get out of the cab fast enough once it stopped. The brisk autumn air was a welcome cure for the nausea brought on by my nervousness from my proximity to Lizzie and the overwhelming stench of Caroline’s perfume. Once everyone had disembarked, we began the short, uphill trek to the bar. Caroline slipped her arm through mine and snuggled into my arm.

“Will, I’m cold.” She whined. Whose fucking fault is that Caroline? I didn’t pick out your stupid outfit. It’s autumn, in London. We’re by water. What the fuck did you expect?

“Guess you should have worn something a little more sensible.” I replied, struggling in vain to extricate myself from her grip. The more I struggled, the tighter her grip got, like Devil’s Snare. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the smirk come back to Lizzie’s face. Well I’m glad I can provide her with some entertainment. There was barely a queue when we got to the door. The step up into the building caught Caroline off guard and I was able to slip out of her grasp. The main floor was not as packed with people as I feared it would be. Everyone is probably downstairs dancing. Pop music was filtering up from the basement area. I didn’t recognize the song but Caroline did because she went immediately down the stairs. Oh, thank fuck for that. The four of us that remained worked our way through the small crowd to the bar. Charles had his wallet out before we even got up to order. I got my usual Old Fashioned, a double though, since I was definitely going to need the sweet relief alcohol provided my anxiety. Lizzie ordered Rum Punch for herself and Jane. Charles got a Screwdriver and four shots of tequila. He knows I hate tequila. He does this every time we go out. Judging by the look on Lizzie’s face, she wasn’t too thrilled with the prospect of needing to throw back that vile shit either. The bartender set the shots down on the counter. Charles passed them out, then raised his glass.

“To new friends!” We clinked our shot glasses and threw them back. I shuddered. Jane and Lizzie looked like they wanted to spit it right back out. Charles took his like a champ, like he always does. We set our glasses back down on the counter and the bartender asked if we wanted another round. Jane, Lizzie, and I politely declined. We grabbed our drinks from the bar and Charles immediately led Jane to a nearby table, leaving myself and Lizzie behind. Lizzie was looking around, taking it all in.

“This place seems like kind of a hole in the wall. How did it catch the attention of two wealthy businessmen? I’d have figured this wasn’t really your scene.” Oh, God is she talking to me? Why is she talking to me? C’mon Will you know how to do this. You talked to girls all the time at uni. Oh, no I took too long, she’s walking over to her sister. Should I follow her? Yeah, idiot, otherwise you’d just be standing at the bar like a numpty. Why am I so bad at this? When I made it to the table, she was asking Charles the same question she just asked me. I took the seat on the left of Charles; Jane was seated on his right. I stared into my drink while Charles told her the story of the last time we had been sat in this bar.

“… so, we left the concert at The Underworld, it’s this rock club not too far from here, but Darce wasn’t ready to go home, so we walked around Camden for a bit until we found this place. We had been to Lockside, the restaurant just a little further down the canal, for a business lunch before, but we hadn’t been over this way at night since we were in uni. I had no clue this place even existed until we saw the queue.” Charles is so good at talking. Why can’t I be more like him? He went back to asking Jane questions about America, while Lizzie and I sat in relative silence, Lizzie chiming in every now and then to back up something Jane had said. I finished my drink and went back to the bar to get another. I was definitely going to need it if I was ever going to make an attempt at conversation with Lizzie. I stayed at the bar to drink my second and my third drinks. I was about to order a fourth, when Charles appeared at my side.

“For God’s sake Darce, what is wrong with you? I know you weren’t exactly thrilled to come out with me tonight but I didn’t think you’d be this broody. I was hoping you and Lizzie might hit it off. You’re quite similar you know. You’d see it if you made the effort to chat with her.” What do you think all this alcohol is for Charles? I’m doing my best, my dude. Ooh, my dude? I think imma tiny bit drunk. “I’m getting us another round and then we’re gonna go downstairs. And when I say we I mean you too. You used to be so fun at uni. I know you still have it in you, I think maybe you just need a little nudge to find it again.” I don’t know Charlie boy; I don’t think it’s gonna be that easy. He clapped me on the back and grabbed his and Jane’s drinks from the bar and went back to the table, leaving me with Lizzie’s drink and my own. Oh, that’s very clever Chuck, leave me with her drink so I have to interact… Suddenly Lizzie appeared at my side, taking up the space Charles had just vacated, swiping her drink from the bar. I must have looked visibly startled because she gave me that look again, the eyebrow and the smirk. She took a large sip of it and strutted away from the counter. My body seemed to move of its own accord, grabbing my drink and moving my legs to follow her. She led the way down the stairs while I brought up the rear. I didn’t know the song that was playing, but Lizzie seemed pretty excited about it. She grabbed Jane by the wrist, pulling her towards the dance floor. Charles trailed after the sisters like a puppy dog. Thankfully, the downstairs also had a bar, so I posted up on a barstool to work on my drink, ordering another one before long. I couldn’t see any familiar faces in the crowded dance floor; no Charles, no Caroline, blessedly, but, unfortunately, no Lizzie. I bet she’s a good dancer. She looks like she’d be a good dancer. I wish I could see the way she moves. I wish I wasn’t so damn awkward. I hope no one tries to dance with her. I don’t want anyone else touching her. Wow, four whole drinks plus one shot in – yeah, I was definitely drunk. How else could you explain me thinking about her like that? Like she already was mine. I nursed my current drink more than I had the previous ones. I decided to get up and walk the perimeter of the dance floor. Several songs went by before I caught a glimpse of her again. She was moving slow, in time with the beat. She was alone, but I could see Charles and Jane a little further in the crowd. None of them had their drinks anymore. They must have dropped them at the bar after I got up. Lizzie clearly knew the song that was playing; she was saying the words along with it. I could read her lips from my vantage point. We might just get away with it, religion’s in your lips, even if it’s a false god, we’d still worship, she threw her head back and ran her hand through her hair, continuing to sway her hips to the beat. The lights hit her and her hair reflected it, causing it to look even redder in light. Probably about the same shade as my face. She can’t look over here. She can’t catch me watching her. God, she’s so beautiful. A few more people moved away from the crowd and I got a full view of Charles and Jane. He was holding her close while they swayed to the beat, his arms around her waist. He whispered something in her ear and she smiled. Lizzie continued to dance. Several men moved around her, but no one tried to dance with her. How strange. She’s easily one of the most beautiful women in here. Can they not see it? Do they not see her? How could they ignore her like that when I can’t take my eyes off of her? Can’t they see how stunning she is? I continued to watch her move, imagining what I would do if I had the confidence to join her. What would it feel like to hold her close, like Charles is holding Jane? Would she let me? What if I couldn’t keep up with her? Would she taunt me? Or, would she help me? Would she guide my hips with hers? I could hide my face in her soft hair, pretend there was no one else here, just feel the curve of her arse as it moved against my cock. Oh okay, that train of thought needs to end. I cleared my throat and looked around, as if to double check that no one had heard that thought. I was so lost in my own fantasy that I hadn’t noticed Lizzie had vanished from my sight again, or that the song had changed. Charles, however, had taken notice of my new position and made his way towards me. Jane was no longer with Charles as he strode over. I looked around the room and caught a glimpse of red and blonde hair standing at the bar. They must have decided to get another drink.

“God, Darcy, I think I’m in love! Jane really is the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met!”

“That’s great Charles, I’m very happy for you. Don’t ask me for help picking out the engagement ring though, I don’t know a thing about jewellery.”

“Ha-ha very funny, but I’m serious Darce. I really like her. I’m really hoping that this is gonna be the one that’s lasts. I know its still early days but I just have a good feeling about it. I hope someday you’ll understand; feel how I’m feeling, you know? I think you might really be missing your chance here with Lizzie. I get that interacting with people makes you anxious sometimes, but I really think you should make the effort here. She could be really good for you. Just pull yourself out of your own head for once; have some fun!” Yeah, sure I’ll get out of my head Charles. Do you want me to go ahead and sort out Brexit too while you’re requesting the impossible?

“Charles, just because lightning strikes often for you doesn’t mean it’ll ever strike for me. And I’m okay with that. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Just enjoy your date, have fun. I’m alright on my own.” Good job Will, that should hold him over. Then maybe he’ll take the hint and stop forcing me to interact with Lizzie. I need to do it at my own pace.

“You’re right, Jane is absolutely incredible. But Lizzie’s very beautiful as well, you have to admit that.” No, I absolutely do not Charles. I shan’t and you can’t make me.

“I just hate seeing you looking so gloomy all the time. Lizzie’s fun and she’s very pretty. She’s got great energy. And she’s so smart. I really think if you just—”

“I get it Charles, but I’m sorry. I just don’t think it’ll work with Lizzie. She’s just, I don’t know, she’s too—," Gorgeous, intelligent, absolutely perfect for me in every single way, “I don’t know Charles, she just doesn’t do it for me, you know? She’s just not pretty enough to tempt me. She’s too soft, you know, in the belly.” What. The. Fuck. William. Patrick. Fitzgerald. Darcy. Why did I just say that? I just called her fat. Why did I say that? I didn’t mean that.

“Will, that’s really unkind of you to say. I think maybe you’ve been spending too much time around my sister.” I sure as hell hope not, but fuck if you’re not wrong. He started to walk away from me. I moved to follow until I realized he was walking towards Jane and Lizzie, who were standing about six feet away, each with two drinks in their hands. I recognized the one in Lizzie’s left hand as an Old Fashioned. My Old Fashioned. She bought me a fresh drink and I more or less insulted her to her face. There’s no way she didn’t hear me. This is why I hate clubs, they’re too loud. I have to yell to carry on a conversation. God, if you’re up there, I wish the ground to open up and deposit me straight into Hell where I belong, please and thank you. I walked towards them slowly. Lizzie stuck her left hand out for me to take my drink from her.

“I got you a fresh one. Seemed like you’d been working on that one for a long time. The ice’s all melted.” I downed the rest of the glass I had previously been working on. She was right, it was watery. She must have been keeping as close an eye on me as I had been on her. Strange.

“Thank you.” I took the new drink from her. She turned and walked away, heading back towards the bar area where it appeared Charles and Jane had gone to sit down. I followed, taking long draughts from the glass Lizzie had handed me. It was nearly empty by the time I reached them. I set my empty glass down on the bar, knowing all too well that my current drink would be joining it soon. But for the time being at least, I had something to occupy my mouth. Maybe that’ll keep me from saying something else stupid or insensitive.

“What have you been up to all night Will? Have you been out dancing? I feel like we’ve barely seen you all night.” Jane asked when I caught up to them.

“Darcy’s not a huge fan of nightclubs. He doesn’t like pop music. Or dancing. At least, not anymore. He only goes to them if I drag him, kicking and screaming. He didn’t always used to be such a wallflower, if you can believe it. He could really tear up the dance floor when we were at uni, right Darce?” He laughed. Drunk Charles really doesn’t know how to keep things to himself.

“I can’t even picture that. This guy doing the cupid shuffle at a college party? No way!” Have I really made such a terrible impression on her? I mean yeah, I guess I have. Lizzie laughed along with Charles. I deserved that. I deserved that. I deserved that.

“He sure could! But not anymore. He’s a serious businessman now and he only does serious businessman things. Like make spreadsheets and flow charts.” Alright the jokes can stop now Charles. He knows damn well why I don’t feel comfortable letting loose anymore. He knows what happened last time. The bartender called Last Call and the DJ put on the last song of the night.

“Oh, excellent! Last song of the night and it’s Jonas Brothers. Well I’m going back out for one last dance. Whadiya say Will? You wanna come with, show us all those dance moves Charles says you’re hiding?” She leant over, getting much closer to me than I was prepared for, eyebrow cocked again. “Or am I not pretty enough to tempt you?” She whispered it right into my ear. I shivered. She didn’t give me time to respond – she already knew the answer. She smirked at me and walked back to the dance floor. Follow her! C’mon legs, move! Charles and Jane went out after her, leaving me alone again. I downed the rest of my drink and settled up the tab Charles had started upstairs. I scheduled the cab to pick us up in five minutes and realized we’d have to track down Caroline. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I ground the heels of my hands into my eyes. When I took my hands away, Caroline had appeared at my side. Well, speak of the Devil and she shall appear. God, when I said I wanted to go to Hell, this isn’t quite what I had in mind. She leant against the bar, looking out at the dance floor, at her brother and Jane as they danced with Lizzie.

“We’re going to have to do something about that, Will.” Excuse me? What is this ‘we’ business? “Charles falls in love too easily. Jane seems sweet enough, but I don’t know about that sister of hers. I wouldn’t put it past her to involve her sister in some scheme. Try to get Charles to part with some of our money. Americans, they’re all so greedy.” That’s rich coming from you Caroline, seeing as you’ve been after my money since you were eleven fucking years old. However, I had to admit that she wasn’t completely wrong. Charles does fall in love too easily. It’s honestly been a miracle that I haven’t had to force a gold digger out of his life yet. I don’t get those kinds of vibes from either Bennet sister, but I’ve been wrong about people before, horribly wrong, and it cost me dearly. I decided I ought to keep an eye on them, for Charles’ sake, just in case. He’d been in so many relationships in the seven years I’d known him. Maybe Jane will be different, but maybe she won’t. The song ended and the lights came up. Jane, Lizzie, and Charles made their way back to where myself and Caroline were waiting at the bar. We followed the crowd up the stairs and out of the club. The cab arrived a couple minutes later and we got in the same way we had earlier. The nausea returned, but now I wasn’t sure if it was the anxiety, Caroline and her perfume, or the copious amounts of alcohol I had consumed. A combination of all three, I expect. The cab took Charles and the girls back to Hanover Terrace first. I didn’t get out. Charles clapped me on the side of my arm as he got out, knowing I knew what he meant by it: we’ll talk tomorrow. As we pulled away, I looked out the rear windscreen. Charles kissed Jane goodnight and hugged Lizzie before following his sister into the house. The Bennet sisters walked arm in arm back towards the park. I felt a pang of jealousy towards my best friend, at the ease with which he interacted with Lizzie while I couldn’t even open my mouth without insulting her. It took about fifteen minutes to get me home to Belgravia. I kicked my trainers off by the door and stumbled up the stairs, reliving every horrible moment of the night in my head with each stair I climbed. I got myself a glass of water and two paracetamol and set them on my bedside table. I collapsed on my bed and reached out to pull the wastebasket closer, just in case. I closed my eyes, but in the darkness, I saw her face. I covered my head with my pillow, but in the silence, I heard her whisper. I slept fitfully.

#Taylor writes #Pride and Prejudice #fanfiction #Modern AU #Mr Darcy #Elizabeth Bennet #Charles Bingley #Jane Bennet

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ellynneversweet · 4 years

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Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy plan a quiet country wedding. Darcy's aristocratic relatives interfere.

Tags:

No Archive Warnings Apply, Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley, Elizabeth Bennet, Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Bennet, Charles Bingley, The Bennet Family, William Cavendish 6th Duke of Devonshire, Colonel Fitzwilliam (Pride and Prejudice), William Fitzwilliam 4th Earl Fitzwilliam, Charles Wentworth-Fitzwilliam 5th Earl Fitzwilliam (Lord Milton), every whig politician of the regency period, George IV of the United Kingdom, Georgiana Darcy, Weddings, pre-marital jitters, Meeting the in-laws, accidental politics, Politics, High farce, elizabeth takes on the ton, Mud, unimaginative pseudonyms, Gossip, Some angst, quite a lot of fluff, One Shot

Words: 20198

#more likely to want time than courage #pride and prejudice #My fic #My writing #this got waaaaaaaaay out of hand #please god let there be minimal mistakes #I READ THE GODDAMN MARRIAGE ACT FOR THIS #(it actually wasn't that long BUT STILL)

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curiousb · 3 years

Text

The Pemberley College Yearbook: Volume II

After dinner in the Refectory, the students usually retire to the common room, to play pool or video games, or to watch TV. It doesn’t look like Caroline Bingley’s team is winning.

Caroline’s stats:

~ Aries 7 / 7 / 6 / 4 / 2

~ Ambitious / Diva / Mean-spirited / Schmoozer / Snob

~ OTH: Games

~ Favourite Colour(s): Grey

~ Aspiration: Fortune / Popularity

~ Turn-ons / -off: +Black Hair / +Influential / -Unemployed

~ Major: Economics

~ LTW: Become Mayor

You have to admire a woman whose makeup looks this perfect, even while she’s asleep. And yes, she and William are in a long-standing relationship, all instigated by the go-getting Caroline - I think she likes his prospects.

Caroline’s friendly, fun-loving brother, Charles Bingley, couldn’t be a more different character:

~ Aquarius 5 / 7 / 8 / 7 / 8

~ Absent-minded / Easily Impressed / Friendly / Night Owl / Party Animal

~ OTH: Games

~ Favourite Colour(s): Brown

~ Aspiration: Popularity / Pleasure

~ Turn-ons / -off: +Blonde Hair / +Great Dancer / -Charismatic

~ Major: Art

~ LTW: Have 15 Best Friends

Charles struck up a friendship almost immediately with the equally outgoing George Wickham, who certainly has all the charm, but lacks the good-natured benevolence of his friend.

George’s stats:

~ Taurus 6 / 8 / 4 / 7 / 5

~ Charismatic / Flirty / Irresistible / Mooch / Schmoozer

~ OTH: Games

~ Favourite Colour(s): Gold

~ Aspiration: Pleasure / Fortune

~ Turn-ons / -off: +Great Dancer / +Makeup / -Logical

~ Major: Art

~ LTW: Become Professional Party Guest

The inscrutable Charlotte Lucas - if she has any thoughts on George’s dissolute lifestyle, she’s not sharing them.

Charlotte’s stats:

~ Virgo 8 / 5 / 7 / 4 / 6

~ Ambitious / Disciplined / Frugal / Genius / Perceptive

~ OTH: Cuisine

~ Favourite Colour(s): Red

~ Aspiration: Fortune / Knowledge

~ Turn-ons / -off: +Hard Worker / +Outdoorsy / -Creative

~ Major: Economics

~ LTW: Become Head of SCIA

Charlotte and Fitzwilliam have been an item for quite a while (after earlier brief romances with William and Jane Bennet, respectively), but Fitzwilliam’s autonomous proposal still took me and Charlotte by surprise (so much that I didn’t get a shot of it). To Caroline, however, it seems to have been the end of the world, although why I have no idea, as she’s never shown any interest in him before!

Charles also has romance on his mind, with Lizzy and Jane Bennet’s youngest sister, Lydia Bennet. On their very first date, when he fell hopelessly in love with her, she broke his heart by flirting with someone else right under his nose! Still smitten, he’s since forgiven her, but I sense more trouble ahead...

William is having far less fun.

This wasn’t quite the ‘private study’ I had in mind when I provided the students with this quiet, secluded, music room...the young woman on the wall, however, does not seem to disapprove.

That’s more like it, Lizzy!

#sims 2 #gameplay #merybury #de bourgh university #caroline bingley #charles bingley #george wickham #charlotte lucas #fitzwilliam darcy #lydia bennet #william collins #lizzy bennet #pemberley college

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ao3feed-janeausten · 11 months

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#IFTTT #AO3 works tagged 'AUSTEN Jane - Works'#Jane Austen #fanfic #fanfiction

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whatexcellentboiledpotatos · 4 years

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Pride and Prejudice: Modern AU Part I: the invitation

SYNOPSIS: Elisa Benet is in her second year of her master’s degree in creative writing. As a West End actor chooses to visit the university in a scouting project, Charles Bingley, she is invited to a dinner to greet him and brings along her flatmate, Jane. However, what she does not expect, is to become acquainted by F. William Darcy; writer and director of the latest West End sensation.

Word count: 1296

“Eli, have you heard the news!” my flatmate, Lydia, chants as she enters my room.

“Lydia its too early, its barely seven,” I complain. Doesn’t she have the slightest sense of respect for privacy? Do they not teach that in the new curriculum?

“You must remember the play we saw last time in London, the newest West End sensation?” she asks, cheerfully opening all the blinds on my room.

“Sure I do,” I answer as I shield my eyes from the light. “What is so exiting about it?” I swear if its not important I will throw a pillow at her.

My flatmate turns to the door, “Oh! Jane, tell her, tell her!!”

My other flatmate, Jane, stands by the door. Out of my four flatmates, she is the one I am closest to, but at the same time, she’s the shyest of the group.

“Well,” Jane says quietly, “Charles Bingley, the main actor, is to visit our university to deliver a couple seminars, but most importantly to scout for possible talent.”

“Isn’t that so exiting!” Lydia exclaims bubbly. “To meet a proper West End actor! What if he comes to like me? Oh, the easiest way to pay the never ending student debt!”

“You’re probably not meeting him anyways,” Mary comments as she passes by the door with some laundry at hand. Typical Mary, always too pessimistic.

As she goes by, Lydia poked out her tongue.

“Real classy,” I jokes, “a said Charles Bingley will love it.”

I cannot deny the news are exiting, not as if I were ever going to meet that Bingley, but having a kind-of celebrity around made things more cheerful. The past months had been torture, as I prepare my final piece of work for my masters dissertation. I was study creative writing, with the hopes of having a piece published by the end of my masters, but the clock is ticking away. I have almost finished the second year of my program, as I chose part-time so I could handle my finances better. Its all for love towards art, and my favourite part is living with my flatmates. Jane, slightly older than me, graduated in classics the year before and took upon herself to still manage the university theater club, whilst she teaches in a local school and part-timing as a seamstress. We all know her real dream is to do costume design and direct, but sometimes that kind of dream needs to be sustained by connections of name and wealth. Then we have Mary, who is still in undergrad studying music. I don’t remember how we picked her up, but oddly enough, we did. A bit antisocial, and a socially awkward many, we had adopted her as our flatmate from the beginning of our career. Lydia needs no explanation. She is currently starting her new career path, having passed by engineering to then doing drama, to finally ending up doing literature, just like I did. At this point, we don’t even care about what career she ends up in, just that she commits to one before we move out. Lastly, we have Kitty, the youngest. Being our landlady’s foreign niece, her mom thought it would be great to have her move outside problematic halls, and where better to move than with the lovely girls her sister talks so much about?? It sometimes worries me how easily Lydia can influence her, both of them being completely inseparable, but Kitty is a smart girl.

Sometimes I wish Lydia would be that too. Not that I’m ashamed of caring for her, but sometimes, its hard work. For example; waiting for me outside my tutor’s office to inquire after Charles Bingley.

“Mr. B!” I hear her exclaim loudly as my tutor walks me out of his office, “I heard a rumor that a Charles Bingley is around school, looking for talent!”

“Ah, miss Benson! Yes indeed, Mr Bingley will be in school for a couple weeks!” my tutor answers awkwardly. To his misfortune, he happens to have also been placed as Lydia’s tutor. I cannot count how many times he has regretted so in my presence.

“Well you have to introduce us to him!” Lydia comments shamelessly. I pinch her elbow slightly, so she knows she is being too forthcoming.

“I don’t think it will happen miss--”

“Well DoNt YoU LoVE to TorTUre US?” Lydia interrupts dramatically, “its such a shame.”

My tutor sighs, to whatever god: grant me patience, his eyes seem to ask.

“Miss Benson, I am not sure what you want me to do...”

Lydia and our tutor go back and forth about the matter, making me smile, as minutes before, that very same man had given me an invitation to a formal dinner arranged for Charles Bingley. Private, only handpicked students given an invitation. The best part? I was given two. One for me, and one for Jane. It was her shot.

“Lydia is never going to forgive you, you know?” Jane comments as we walk into the building.

“Oh I am sure she won’t,” I say with a smile, “be prepared to be questioned on all the specifics, even at what time Mr Bingley excuses himself to go to the loo.”

We both laugh, handing our tickets to enter the ball. It takes me two seconds to spot one of my best friends chatting with some teachers, Charlotte Lucas. Charlotte and I did our undergrad in the same course, even though we parted ways for our masters degree.

“Jane! Its been so long!,” she welcomes, “both of you are looking very good tonight!”

“Oh, this? Its a humbly made dress by none other than madam Jane Vennat,” I say proudly.

Jane blushes, “you didn’t have to wear it, you know”

I turn towards her, “Jane, if I want to show you off, I WILL show you off.”

Before she can say anything my tutor approaches us, “Oh its so good to see you again, Miss Vennat! From what I have heard the university’s company is doing well!”

“You are very kind sir,” she replies. She stares at me awkwardly, not wanting to have to engage in conversation. I then do what I do best; ask simple things in a confusing manner.

“Well, so has the elephant in the room actually arrived to the room?”

My tutor stares at me blankly.

“Has Bingley arrived?” I say plainly.

“Oh, no,” my tutor says with a smile, “it appears that he is a bit--

He stops talking as three people enter the room.

“aand now he’s here.”

I stare back at Bingley, not being discreet at all. He looks a bit different than when I saw him in West End. For starters, he is not a whole theater away, as the cheapest seats are those of the last rows. He is handsome, but with humble appearance; an odd quality for actors who have made it to where he has.

“Who is the lady beside him?” Jane asks.

“That would be his twin sister, Caroline,” my tutor answers.

She looks a lot like her brother, save the humble appearance. Jane would know better, but the dress she wears is probably a designer one. What a waste of dress to wear for meeting a couple uni students.

Beside them there is a third person. He doesn’t look like he could be another sibling-- he misses the distinguishable reddish hair. In contrast to Charles Bingley, who smiles as he greets anyone in his way, the man looks absolutely disgusted by the scene.

“and who is their miserable friend who looks as if he just smelled the sewer?” I ask jokingly.

“That, miss Bennet, that would be none other than the writer and director of the play you saw: F. William Darcy”

#jane austen #pride and prejudice #joe wright #kiera knightley #period drama #fanfic #modern au #mr darcy #elizabeth bennet #fitzwilliam darcy #pemberley #emma #emmys 2020 #pride and prejudice fanfic #creative writing #west end #lizzy x darcy #lizzy bennet

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pynkhues · 4 years

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Since you're a writer, I'm hoping you can shed some light on this. IMO the writers were chasing viewers in S2 and trying not to get canceled. Personally, I hate when writers toy with their audience, it means they don't have a clear picture of their characters and narrative. How do you feel about writers making it up as they go?

Ah, this post got really long, anon! Since you asked me as a writer, I’m answering as one (I hope you don’t mind! I also hope this doesnt come out as too Creative Writing 101 for people either. This is just lessons I’ve learned and use in my own practice, so I’m applying them here.)

(Also I have drawn horrible diagrams on my very pink notebook paper - I am so sorry, haha)

So first thing’s first - no. I don’t think the writers were chasing viewers (at least not beyond the way any writer is wanting an audience), and I don’t think they were making it up as they go really, but I can understand why you would think that way!

It won’t be a surprise to anyone that I love this show a lot, but coming from it as both a writer and editor - this show does have narrative problems, and the biggest ones, particularly in s2, are in execution, escalation and pacing.

I think heading into the season they had certain character arcs they wanted to follow which married well with the story they wanted to tell. In particular, I actually think the writers have a very strong handle on the girls (I will say that I’ve had a few asks telling me Beth’s characterisation is all over the place, which I’m curious about, just because I personally find her very consistent, and when I’ve asked for clarification, I’ve never gotten any reply, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

I mean, look at their s2 arcs on paper, right?

Ruby tries to negotiate Stan’s lowered opinion of her after the reveal of what she’s done, then has to negotiate him telling her to turn Beth and Annie in. She manages the situation painfully but pulls them through and they’re close again as Ruby navigates the increasingly lower depths of their crime life. When Stan acts to save Beth for Ruby and is arrested, it only escalates – the case on him driving Ruby to extremes to try and save him, including robbing a Quick Cash and using counterfeit money to bribe a lawyer. On top of that, she’s being targeted by an FBI agent who’s after her best friend who she gives up and then saves and then who tries to sacrifice herself for them. Ruby finishes the season the most morally compromised she’s ever been.

Annie gets back together with her ex only to find out that he’s gotten his not-quite-separated-wife pregnant. She splits up with him, but is heartbroken and it’s only amplified by the fact that they’ve been given a job by their Crime Boss to murder a man who tried to rape her but who’s grandmother she has a relationship with. Her sister can’t kill him, and Annie doesn’t get the chance as MP beats her to it. Upon disposing of the body though she endures a whole lot of pain as a result of both her ex’s new family and knowing she’s robbed a woman of her own. Annie goes on a guilt tour – tells her son, helps Marion, helps Nancy only to eventually find an absolver of her guilt in Noah, who builds her up and tells her she’s more than what life has given her. She lets herself have it for a while, before realising he’s FBI and there to trap her, and Annie tries to use him only to realise she can’t, and she finishes the season in a lot more hurt than she started it.

Beth struggles with guilt after getting Dean shot, gets the job to kill Boomer from Rio, can’t do it, gets support and encouragement from him (in various states of animosity), but in the end doesn’t have to find out if she can do it because MP does it instead. She’s rewarded by Rio in a way she probably never has been by anyone, her husband further subjugates her, so she has sex with Rio, starts to entertain a future with him, but he undermines her, so she seizes control from him. They work together. Dean forces her to break up with him due to jealousy, she struggles, goes back, but Rio’s stung, so unhelpful, and they play a little cat and mouse before he bails then kidnaps her and she shoots him.

With the exception of that very last sentence, I think all of those are narratively really strong pathways to have explored. Like I said above though, the issue is in execution, escalation and pacing.

But to talk about those things, I think I probably need to talk about story.

SO!

Stories have a shape.

Kurt Vonnegut talks extensively about this, and while he’ll talk about a few different types of story shapes, they really all boil down to this bad boy here:

Look at this guy.

What a beautiful thing.

He’s a story.

It doesn’t matter if you’re reading Dr Seuss or Charles Dickens, when you read a story – when you strip away its words and its characters and its settings – this is what it looks like.

Or, well.

Not quite.

Really, it’s this guy:

But we’ll talk about him in a sec.

Right now, let’s talk about that first little inch:

The Beginning

The fact that stories have a beginning is not a surprise to anyone. Stories need them. In some ways, they’re the most important part of your story. After all, the job of the beginning is to set up the world your protagonist is about to leave behind. That is essential in grounding a reader / viewer – orienting them to the world that they’re in, and getting them invested in the story you’re about to tell, if not the protagonist.

Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Star Wars, Game of Thrones are all excellent example of this (and frequently used in teaching) because in each of these cases it’s literal. Frodo leaves Bag End, Harry leave Privet Drive, Luke leaves Tatooine, the Starks leave Winterfell. There is a literal departure from the world before the crux of the story, and that departure is what signifies the start of the ‘hero journey’ aka the main part of your narrative.

Of course, it’s not always literal – in fact, it’s usually not. Usually that world is symbolic – it’s the single, uncertain world before the Bingley’s buy the house next door in Pride and Prejudice or the dry domestic sphere of Breaking Bad before Walt decides to make meth. It’s a marked shift, whether that’s internal or external.

In Good Girls, it’s internal.

The beginning is actually pretty perfect. The world it sets up that we’re about to (try to) depart is one of struggle and invisibility.

Beth’s in a loveless marriage promptly discovering that her husband is not only cheating but about to leave them destitute, Ruby’s getting ignored by the healthcare system and can’t afford to pay for her daughter’s wellbeing, and Annie is in a dead end job about to lose custody of her child.

Writing-wise – as a beginning, I honestly think 1.01 is close to perfect.

It sets up who these characters are, their personal conflicts, and the story world they share together, and the worlds they have on their own i.e. Ruby at the hospital and the diner, Annie at Fine and Frugal, Beth with Dean and Boland Motors.

Then:

BOOM

Inciting Incident.

The inciting incident is also often called The Point of No Return.

When I’m teaching, I personally like to call it the “You’re a wizard!” moment.

It’s when something happens that means everything set up in the beginning will be changed forever. It’s Romeo meeting Juliet, it’s Katniss volunteering for Prim, it’s Frodo deciding to take the ring to Mordor, it’s Jaimie pushing a child out a window, it’s Beth – deciding to take her little sister’s joke seriously and rob a grocery store.

(Again, I like to use Harry Potter because it’s literal – there is no return for Harry after hearing Hagrid tell him he’s a wizard. Everything is changed forever).

Inciting incidents are probably the most singularly important narrative moment, because they’re what everything else tumbles out of. Pretty much everything that happens in the story should be a direct or indirect result of the inciting incident. The inciting incident is ultimately the key of the story and what should unlock the overall arc.

When it comes to a series – whether that be a TV series, movie series or book series, each individual instalment (see: season of a show) should have its own inciting incident which – preferably – builds off the one established in the first instalment.

The Hunger Games does this really well. Katniss and Peeta being brought back into the games in Catching Fire is both an imitation inciting incident which allows the author to explore the story world further in an exciting way, and also an inciting incident that’s directly borne out of the first book / film – aka Katniss pissed enough people off during the first games that they’re going to try and kill her for real this time, which in turn gives us the opportunity to explore Katniss’ trauma, the ramifications of her actions in the first book on the broader story world, and to generate a new, compelling chapter based off of both.

Good Girls has a terrific inciting incident in s1 – which is Beth realising she’s about to lose everything.

That is our narrative point of no return.

And it works on a lot of levels – it establishes Beth as the driving engine of the story, fuelled by the chorus motivations of Annie and Ruby, rounding off both their collective and individual stakes, it sets us up for a strong narrative spine and solid characterisations.

Good Girls actually also has a terrific inciting incident in s2, which operates strongly on its own while also building firmly off the character arcs of s1.

The s2 inciting incident is Rio showing up on that park bench with Marcus, a gun and an order.

The story pivots here – giving Rio a lot of narrative thrust (get your minds out of the gutter kids), and making him a sort of secondary story engine. The core engine is still Beth, but her life is different now. She’s been traumatised and she’s exhausted, but Rio revealing his son to the girls (and tying their motivations up together in a neat little package) while forcing her to act, re-establishes her as the person who’s decisions are going to be the driving force of the narrative.

Ruby and Annie are, of course, story engines in their own right too, but they fall into line behind Beth usually, and their narrative push is actually usually away from the story throughline, but we’ll talk about that in a sec.

Rising Tension / The Middle

Okay, this is where things get a little tricky.

Do you remember this guy?

When we talk about stories, rising tension / the middle is the big guy. It’s the bulk of your narrative. It’s Where Things Happen. It’s where all the ugly stuff set up in your beginning and exploded by your inciting incident just - - grows a life of it’s own.

Or - -

Well.

Maybe not.

Forget about this guy.

Rising tension is this:

Rising tension is a series of ‘mini climaxes’ on the way to the main climax that raises the stakes, lets you know characters better, and pushes your characters onwards to the main climax.

Each of these little climaxes should be followed by a ‘narrative rest’. (that’s the dip after each spike)

Which - - I don’t know, might sound weird? I know when I started writing I was like ?? but it’s true! The closer you get to a big narrative climax, the more important rests are! Rests are – I personally think – one of the most important components of storytelling, because they re-ground an audience, remind them of what’s at stake, before thrusting everyone back into danger.

Again, Harry Potter is a gift in this sense because this is all really clearly paced out. Think about the first instalment – Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s / Sorcerer’s Stone.

Harry and Ron save Hermione and Ron from the troll!!!

Then they become friends and enjoy school and quidditch.

Harry loses control of his broom during a quidditch game!!!!

He’s okay and then it’s Christmas and Harry gets the invisibility cloak and feels connected to his parents for perhaps the first time in his life.

Harry, Hermione and Ron go through the trapdoor to get the philosopher’s stone!!!

And - - okay, you get the point.

Each mini climax ups the stakes, but we feel those stakes upped because of the time we spend with characters during the ‘narrative rest’. For instance, while Harry and Ron saving Hermione from the troll might have sparked an interest in her, it’s the narrative rest scenes between that and her setting Snape on fire during the quidditch game that makes us invest in her as a character.

This is where things get a bit hairy with Good Girls. Good Girls does a tremendous job of giving us both great climaxes and wonderful moments of narrative rest. The issue, for me at least, is that it’s not always the best at balancing them. When I talk about escalation and pacing, this is a big part of what I mean.

Remember how I said this was the shape of a story?

Well, I think Good Girls s2 looked more like this:

We had a lot of solid movement in the first half of the season that sort of flattened out into a lower stakes, more meandering middle (which gave us 2.08 through 2.12). Which - -

Look.

The story changed gear, and it didn’t work.

Think of it this way:

2.01 – mostly character-based fallout from s1 + inciting incident of Rio handing them the gun

2.02 – almost entirely rising tension culminating with the girls bribing Boomer and Beth lying to Rio

2.03 – which thrusts us straight back into rising tension with the girls trying to kill Boomer and ‘succeeding’ via Mary Pat

2.04 – which gives us a very satisfying narrative rest as we explore Rio and Beth’s relationship outside of an overall narrative thrust – he gives her a key, she shies away from him, only to fall entirely back into him culminating in sex which itself brings about a new climax (no pun intended!) in the scene with Beth, Rio and Dean at the dealership. It’s also a strong character episode in closing certain plot threads – ending Annie and Greg’s relationship + ending Ruby lying to Stan about what they’re doing – while establishing major new threads – i.e. really colliding Turner and Mary Pat.

2.05 – and after the rest, we’re back to almost entirely satisfying rising tension! Building off of the threat of finding Boomer’s body and the new tensions that Rio and Beth’s intimacy brings.

2.06 – a mix episode! Very much building to the strong climax of Beth seizing power, but also an episode that plays around with character, has a lot of strong ‘rest’ moments i.e. the girls sorting pills and talking which gives us a lot of information as to state of minds, etc.

2.07 – again, very strong mixed episode which is focused on one single, extreme climax – Jane being missing, but building a very character-centric episode around it. Also introduces Noah though? Which is a mistake. He should have been introduced - I think, in 2.05, but that feels like a whole other post.

2.08 – narratively speaking the same as 2.07 in the sense of a single climax (the girls failing to get the money back / the Beth-Ruby confrontation), but has the added bonus of flashbacks.

2.09 – we have a slight narrative thrust with the robbery of the Quick Cash but it proves very quickly to be low stakes. This is an alllll emotional stakes episode, which means narrative tension is slowing.

2.10 – again, a character-focused, narrative rest episode devoted to Beth struggling with getting square. A few small climaxes – Annie and Ruby in Canada and Turner at the dealership being the big ones, but both quickly prove toothless. The heft / strength of the episode again is in character moments, not narrative thrust. Again - slowing it down.

2.11 – oh, what do we have here? Another character-focused, narrative rest episode? I love this episode – it’s one of my favourites of the show, but it’s intensely character focused. Very much centred in waving away the smoke around both Noah and Rio for Annie and Beth respectively. No dramatic climaxes. Slowing the story down even further.

2.12 – another narrative rest episode. A lot of slow exposition of Mary Pat and Jeff, which is good to know, but I’d argue placed badly in the season. This season’s already been slowing down despite the narrative timeline tightening, but this episode only further pushes on the brakes for Dean’s new job, Beth and Dean’s divorce, Beth and Rio’s break up. Two very small climaxes - the lawyer telling Ruby he knows about the money and the Boomer reveal but - in the context of the season - actually pretty low stakes. Again. Slowing down the narrative.

2.13 – A BIG CLIMAX EPISODE WHAT IS GOING ON???

What I’m saying in this is that the pacing in the back half of the season was, to me at least, fundamentally off. They hadn’t steered a strong enough narrative spine to take us through the season, and got heavily invested in character moments and not-entirely-thought-out-fallout in the back half of the season – it didn’t understand it’s own narrative thrust well enough to get us through. It also established a certain pacing with us in the first half of the season and shifted gears halfway through.

You can’t have your first three or six episodes be high-stakes-high-action, and then make the back end of your season same-stakes-low-action and top it all off with an explosive, poorly built-up finale in the way that they did.

There wasn’t enough thrust to push us through to the scene in Rio’s loft – neither narratively or in a character sense, and as a result, those last few episodes fall apart. Even beyond that though, the season escalated quickly then - - didn’t really know what to do with those escalations? It plateaued, which is indicative of bad pacing across the season.

I actually do think it’d be a relatively easy fix? I’d bring the Noah arc forwards and actually fiddle with the Beth and Rio break ups - get one even closer the tinale and make it more painful. Make it a climax in itself.

But anyway, haha:

The Resolution

All stories have a resolution too of course.

The resolution can be 30 seconds or 30 minutes – it’s a time to tie up loose ends and to reassure your audience that the journey they’ve been on is worthwhile.

(After all – you’ll notice the story diagram is not symmetrical – we never finish where we began).

I’m not going to talk too much about resolutions because at the end of the day – resolutions should fall fairly naturally out of your beginning, your inciting incident, your rising tension. It should tumble out like the double wedding at the end of Pride and Prejudice, but I will say that the s2 resolution was...err, not good. In no small part because it didn’t fall out of what we’d been told all season. They’d established a certain throughline and then taken it back, and that was nagl to be honest.

On the plus side though - it wasn’t a finale, so I have my fingers crossed they can fix it!

But yes, back to your ask, anon.

No, I don’t think that the writers were pandering. I think they went in with a sketched outline and that they probably got lost in the back end of the season and weren’t quite sure how to drum up the final act, which meant that final act didn’t work.

Ah, this post got so long! I hope it wasn’t boring or too self-indulgent or silly, and that you got something out of it! I am, of course, always happy to answer writing questions, and I hope you liked reading my story ramblings ;-)

#writing posts #gg season 2 #welcome to my ama

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