#AND THEY'RE DOING PERSUASION

[cottagecore-raccoon]

The more I think about it, the more I think that Persuasion has my favorite premise of all of Jane Austen's novels

Anne Elliot as a character speaks to my soul. She feels tremendous guilt for a decision she made eight years ago. Her life is lonely, as she doesn't really have anyone she can truly confide in despite being surrounded by people. So she swallows her pain, the yearning she feels deep in her soul, and vows that if nothing else at least she'll be helpful.

And of course she is reunited with Frederick Wentworth (the one that got away) who seems to hate her now, and she just keeps going. She keeps being kind and supporting her loved ones while slowly carving out a life for herself. There's something about her classic heroism that just feels so attainable. I don't have Elizabeth Bennett's wit, or Jane Bennett's unwavering belief in the goodness of everyone, or even Elinor's constant composure. But I can be like Anne and just keep moving forward attempting to be helpful

Of course it all works out in the end, and Anne is finally surrounded by people who truly appreciate her, even if she had to wait an extra eight years. Others have observed the fairy tale quality of the ending, and perhaps that's why it speaks to me. The idea that if you just keep doing your best and being kind, you'll eventually find happiness

[e-adlirez]

Wellerman is stuck in my head so

So yes they are singing Wellerman in front of the campfire, they are vibing ✨

[front-facing-pokemon]

[queenlucythevaliant]

In Defense of Wuthering Heights

This is not an “I can make him worse” book. It’s a “we can make each other better in the face of tremendous pressure to do otherwise” book. I promise. 

I’ve already written extensively about my love for Charlotte Brontë’s Villette and while I love lots of other Brontë books with all my heart, what I really want to do tonight is try to make you fall in love with Emily’s Wuthering Heights (generally the most divisive Brontë novel among modern readers) the way that I did.

The thing that a lot of people don’t know which I really think ought to be printed on all the dust jackets is that the Brontë sisters were the daughters of a revered. They were PKs and it totally shows.  

So Wuthering Heights is not a romance; it’s a family tragedy. Specifically, it’s an astonishingly hopeful book about generational trauma. 

Heathcliff is Mr. Earnshaw’s bastard son. This is never explicitly stated, but it is implied so heavily that it might as well be. To boot, Mr. Earnshaw favors Heathcliff over his legitimate son, Hindley. When Mr. Earnshaw dies, Heathcliff is immediately and violently cast out of the family and forced into servitude. Mr. Earnshaw’s hidden infidelity is Wuthering Heights’s original sin.

Of course, Cathy and Heathcliff love each other, but it’s a violent and destructive like-recognizes-like kind of love between two people who, on the one hand, absolutely should not be together and, on the other, totally deserve each other. They’re capital T Tragic and capital R romantic: co-dependent, sharp-toothed sibling-lovers who don’t understand their own relationship as kids because their father lied to them. That lack of understanding follows them into adulthood; they don’t really know how to make sense of what they feel for one another, but boy do they feel it. 

Cathy tells Nellie “I am Heathcliff” and “He’s more myself than I am” and “whatever souls are made of, his and mine are the same,” and it’s half a reaction to the fact that one of her brothers (Hindley) has cast her other brother (Heathcliff) out of the family with a vengeance and half a statement of the fact that although she doesn’t know what Heathcliff is to her, she doesn’t know how to live without him. And while Cathy’s love for Heathcliff definitely fills romantic roles once they’re adults, it’s doesn’t really read as sexual. To use Lewis’s parlance: it’s not eros/gift-love, but rather need-love in the most emphatic sense. It’s storge. Actually, it’s really posessive storge that thinks it’s eros. Hence the problem. 

From the other side, Heathcliff is an outsider from the moment he enters the story. He’s an intruder and a presumed bastard. He’s coded as non-white, maybe Romani or similar. (Probably not actually African-black, but kudos to that one movie for at least making the attempt.) He’s… probably kind of a psychopath in that he displays cruelty to animals and then later on becomes a charismatic, manipulative monster. You can make a nature vs. nurture argument—Heathcliff is definitely on the receiving end of a lot of cruelty—but there’s also something Off about him and that too is othering. And after Mr. Earnshaw dies, Cathy is the one person who still loves him.

But of course, they can’t actually marry. On and off the page, that simply cannot be. Heathcliff runs away, Cathy marries Edgar Linton. They hurt each other badly in the process. Neither Heathcliff nor Cathy can escape the harm that Mr. Earnshaw began and Hindley perpetuated. Cathy dies, Heathcliff marries Isabella, and then things get really interesting.

Because the beating heart of Wuthering Heights, the place where you can profoundly see the fingerprints of the reverend’s daughter, is in the third generation. Cathy and Heathcliff devour each other in life and in death, but the children survive. They forgive. The patriarch died without knowing what he had wrought on his children, the second generation died in anguish, but the third makes it out. Or at least Hareton and Cathy II do.

Cathy’s daughter is named for her mother. Heathcliff’s son by Isabella Linton is named Linton Heathcliff. Heathcliff forces Hareton, Hindley’s son and the only one among the third generation not named for his parents, to live in the same debasement that Hindley once forced on him: he denies Hareton any education and forces him into servitude while simultaneously courting his admiration. In essence, Cathy and Heathcliff implore the next generation to go on living their parents’ tragedy and it. Doesn’t. Work.

Heathcliff tries to force them both into awful situations in which they must act out his trauma, his revenge, to go on perpetuating the pain and bitterness. And at first, it looks like they’re going to play their parts. For a time, they’re as awful to each other as everyone else is.

But then they change. Hareton tries to stand up for Cathy II while she’s essentially being held captive as part of Heathcliff’s 12-Step Revenge Plot. Cathy teaches Hareton to read. She laughs at him, but when she realizes that she’s hurting his pride she apologizes and learns to be patient.  

“I didn’t know you took my part,” she answered, drying her eyes; “and I was miserable and bitter at everybody; but now I thank you, and beg you to forgive me: what can I do besides?”

And after this, they both stand up to Heathcliff. They say, “This ends here. This far and no farther.” Heathcliff is their dragon and they face him together. And when everyone else is dead in grand, tragic fashion, Cathy II and Hareton are left living.

But it’s not just that Hareton and Cathy II survive. They specifically un-do the failings of the previous generations. There’s a kind of atonement to it. They’re honest with each other, unlike Mr. Earnshaw. Cathy recognizes Hareton’s humanity, something Hindley never did for Heathcliff. Hareton lets go of his bitterness and resentment, while Heathcliff let his fester into cruelty and Elaborate Revenge. Cathy II is willful, like her mother, but she is also kind. Hareton is proud, like his father, but he is also compassionate. They forgive each other, while Cathy and Heathcliff only ever held grudges.

At the beginning of the book, Cathy is dead and has explicitly not gone to heaven; with the Brontës, you’ve gotta take these things seriously. Cathy is not in heaven and Heathcliff is a monster and they both seem to be damned, but they do not succeed in damning their children. And in that (I would say because of that), even Cathy and Heathcliff find peace after death.

I also do think that the fact that the story is narrated by Lockwood (weirded out by all of this) and Nellie (unreliable, cares deeply about everyone involved) can make it difficult to see the redemptive arc in the story as clearly as we might if it had an omniscient narrator, or if, say Cathy II was narrating. We're presented the Cathy and Heathcliff love story as this great, horrible, compelling saga (and it absolutely is), but then the following generation can almost seem like a footnote. They're adapted out of most of the film adaptations. But they're the whole point!

I do get why Wuthering Heights just isn’t to some people’s taste. Really. Some people just don’t go for Big Romantic Family Tragedy and that’s fine. But too many people come to the Brontës looking for Jane Austen or Elizabeth Gaskell and that’s just. Wrong. You’ve gotta at least read Wuthering Heights on its own terms before deciding that you hate it (not directed at anyone specific on here, but I do know people irl...). And you really ought to read it with an eye towards Emily’s faith. It makes a world of difference.

TL;DR- There’s a beautiful, very Christian center to Wuthering Heights and it’s one of forgiveness instead of revenge and kindness instead of cruelty. It’s a book about people who are destroyed by the sins of their fathers and those that manage not to be. In a way, it’s almost a fairytale.

[brittlebutch]

i'm only just now catching up with junior year but i'm kind of surprised by how many 'it was a bad choice to have the bad guys brought down with violence - they could have been redeemed' like. sorry. what gaming mechanism were they going to use to successfully de-radicalize these guys? this is a dnd show. hitting and killing things is like the primary mechanic.

[manyothermusingsofmine]

Astarion: What are you doing? We need to kill this thing!

Mydia: Just trust me, okay?

Astarion: Okay so he killed the Dark Justiciars. Can we kill him now?

Mydia: Shut up and cast Bardic Inspiration

[moinsbienquekaworu]

You don't understand. My little guy. Constant. My little guy.

[im-still-a-robot]

I just want to use charm person because it will 100% get us out of a Situation. The spell literally says friendly acquaintance. However, if you want me to seduce the character you literally named "Lucifer" understand that I am no coward.

[b-blushes]

staff please let me have polls i need to ask my friends important questions such as "when you wear a thermal, is it all you can think about and is it at risk of derailing your entire day, or are you normal" :P

[almostsweetangel]

The concepts?? WAIT IS THAT A FANFIC?? I swore I read something similiar on ao3, i think its called "25 lives"?

THAT'S MINE. I'm Levi of Ice Hell. But I promise you, 25 doesn't even scratch the fucking SURFACE of the world of The Concepts. Good god, there's so much. The Concepts are the creatures that Paige, Tony, Shrignold, Colin, etc., are, and the Hellions made up a whole court of them. Lust, I think was Muffin's, and was sister to Love (Doris, who was later succeeded by Shrignold). Pride and most of the court in AFOT was mine (unreleased to the public because it ended up reading more like original work). Doris, I can't remember who she originated from, I just know she was the original Love.

[siblingshowdown]

okay i do feel bad that the aquatos are losing so dramatically. does anyone want to submit some propaganda for them they seem funky fun

[llycaons]

at a certain point of the ‘idiots in love’ trope I lose all respect for the characters and their inability to communicate like adults and I start actively rooting for them to be unhappy because I hate them. this happens rarely but when it does it’s always because the writing is absolute garbage. this is about netflix’s crashing worst show I’ve ever seen in my life

[theolsuspendisbelief]

Logically, I know that the new Persuasion is just ripping off Fleabag stylistically in order to attract my Phoebe Waller-Bridge loving ass onto the couch... but emotionally I am very excited to have a Jane Austen character break the fourth wall and talk to me like I'm her best friend.

[thatoneluckybee]

Oh no I just realized I'm doing work in my free time

[thiefscant]

astarion when anais asks yurgir about his contract w/ raphael: why are we talking to him??? let's just kill him already!!!!

shadowheart, who just recently watched anais talk three thorms into dying without lifting a finger: shhh! let them work.

[nereidprinc3ss]

drunk in love

in which fem!reader gets extra affectionate with spencer when she's drunk and he's just happy to be there

fluff! warnings/tags: drunk!reader, tooth-rottingly sweet fluff, spencer loves you so bad, short n sweet, that's it a/n: this is for the person who requested spencer taking care of drunk!reader and they're just being really cute and kissy and i lost your request i'm sorry but i hope you see this!! if you guys like this pls let me know, i have spencer helping drunk!r with a bath locked and loaded and its also so cute oh my god i love him goodnight

“Spence,” you say, voice pretty and airy as a song, pressing butterfly-light kisses with soft lips all over the side of his face. 

“What?” he asks fondly, fighting to keep his grip on you secure as you keep trying to fall down and bring him with you. This bar isn’t necessarily a dive, but he’s sure the floor is still sticky and he’s not interested in checking. 

“I really love you so much. I love you so much more than anyone else has ever loved anyone before.” It’s the fourth or fifth time you’ve told him you love him so much in ten minutes, but it doesn’t feel any less wonderful to hear. “Say it back!” you pout, settling against his chest. 

“You didn’t give me time to say it back,” he explains patiently, looking down at you and brushing hair behind your ear. “I love you so much, too, baby.”

Suddenly you’re too flustered and shy to make eye contact. 

“Call me that again.”

Spencer’s brow furrows. His smile flickers wider. 

“What? Baby?” You nod into his chest. He smooths your hair. “I call you baby all the time.”

“Because you love me?”

“Because I love you,” he agrees solemnly. 

You squeak, covering your face with your hands. Not for the first time tonight, he wonders what exactly was in those drinks Penelope kept ordering for you.

“Kiss?”

He gently grabs your wrists. 

“You have to show me that pretty face if you want a kiss.”

Your hands slide down your cheeks and you tilt your head up. Now that your face is on display, pretty and shiny in the low lighting, Spencer ducks down and kisses you sweetly, one hand on the back of your head, the other pulling your wrists down and out of the way. He makes sure to not let it go on for too long. There are still plenty of people around, but more saliently, you are quite drunk. 

“Good?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your cheek as he pulls away.

“Can we kiss forever?”

“We can try,” he muses. 

“I love you,” you say again, plainly. “I wish there was a word stronger than love. I feel like I’ve said love so much it’s lost all its meaning.”

“Keep saying it,” he encourages. “I like hearing it.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper. Spencer leans down for you to cup your hand to his ear clandestinely. Sweet vanilla perfume still clings to your warm skin, lingering on your neck, mixing with the smell of fruity cocktails on your breath and making him dizzy. “I think JJ has a crush on you.”

He chuckles, straightening. Grieving the loss of your scent for just a second in the back of his mind—until you’re pressing against him anxiously, and it returns. 

“JJ is married, babe. I don’t think so.”

You pout. 

“No, but I really think she does! It makes me sad!”

Spencer doesn’t believe it for a second, but he knows hard logic and persuasion aren’t really going to do much for you right now. So he loops an arm around your waist and reigns you in. 

“You don’t need to be sad, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter who has a crush on me because I have a crush on you.”

“Just me?” you ask anxiously. 

“Just you. You’re the prettiest girl in the world. I have a huge crush on you.”

He realizes his voice has taken on that saccharine quality that Derek would give him shit for, and it’s probably visible in his eyes as he leans close to you, but he doesn’t care at all. 

You raise your chin, wordlessly asking for another kiss. He delivers. The fabric of his shirt tugs where you grab onto it, attempting to bring him closer even when he draws away from the kiss. Of course he allows it, narrowly avoiding stepping on your toes as you pull him to you like a dog on a leash. 

“Can we go home? I wanna cuddle.”

Oh, yeah. If Derek were present he’d have the most ridiculous, shit-eating grin on his face right now. Luckily he’s not here right now, and even if he were, Spencer would still brush your hair aside and say, absolutely we can go home and cuddle. 

“Of course we can. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone?”

“Mm… can we Irish goodbye?”

He chuckles. 

“I think you should say thank you to Penelope for buying you all of those ridiculous drinks that are making you so nice.”

You make a face. 

“I’m always nice.”

“You’re not always this nice,” he reminds you with a small smile, resting his hands on your waist. You frown. 

“In my head I am.”

He kisses your head. It’s impossible not to. 

“I know. Come on, let’s say bye. I want to go home too.”

“You think I’m not usually nice?”

“Of course I don’t think that. I think you’re so nice.”

“Oh my god, can we get ice cream?” You gasp, already distracted and pulling him along by the hand as you weave through the sparse crowd. 

He smiles to himself, happy to follow your lead as long as you don’t let go. 

“We can definitely get ice cream. We can do whatever you want.”