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divine-knight-hand · 3 months

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The End of an Era

Regina George Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3

Pairing: (Reneé Rapp's) Regina George x Female Reader

Summary: After the iconic Christmas dance fiasco, one of Regina's long-time admirers decides to make sure she's okay.

Content Warnings: Mentions of being a pervert, but fluffiness from there, brief mentions of weight change and dieting, a poetry reference, a bit of toxic behavior (and verbal degradation) but Regina is a queen and I'm wearing rose-colored glasses, nothing spicier than kissing, but their is some dubious consent (but the want is mutual!)

Notes: Christmas dance scene moment!!! I just recently saw the new Mean Girls and Regina George was all that was on my mind since. So, I quickly wrote this up. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1,624

Dividers by @anitalenia

I’m no better than a man… I thought as I ogled Regina while she danced onstage.

Most of the student body didn’t care for the plastics’ “Rockin’ Around the Pole” routine, but I made sure I had the best view of it every year. I already knew before this year’s performance that it would be a little different. I recognized the group’s newest member, Cady Heron, from homeroom. Regina quickly took an interest in her when she first transferred in, and she became the newest member of the plastics.

I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. What did it feel like to have Regina look at you in fascination? What did it feel like to be taken under her wing? How many times did Cady hang out with her? How many times did Cady go to Regina’s house?

The clapping of the girls’ leather boots made me jump, and my eyes zeroed back in on Regina. No, I didn’t actually care for the performance itself, but from freshman year, when I first saw Regina in the same tight-fitting crop top, short skirt, long gloves, and thigh-high boots, I was awe-struck. Since then, I’d taken to watching her from afar, which was easy to do, since she always made her presence known when she entered a room. With each passing day, I grew more and more enamored with her.

I found myself instinctively leaning in once the girls set up one of the grandest moves in their performance. Karen took to the bottom as Gretchen guided Regina into a handstand on her knees from behind. I willed my eyes down to Regina’s face once she made it into position.

Though I spent the performance letting my eyes travel along her body–looking at her thighs in the space between her skirt and boots, her exposed sliver of midriff under her crop top, and watching the way her beach blonde waves fell to frame her gorgeous breasts–I would not be perverted enough to hone in on her crotch as her skirt flipped. My mind might already be in the gutter, but I’d still have a little class.

I’d noticed that her clothes seemed to be fitting her a little tighter than normal this year. There were rumors floating around that Regina was gaining weight, but I also heard that she was on some health kick with special weight loss bars, so that couldn’t have been possible. It had to have just been in my head.

Or so I thought.

Suddenly, Karen’s legs began to shake, and as Regina lost her balance, Gretchen lost her grip, sending the three of them tumbling to the ground in front of a surprised Cady. The audience let out a unanimous gasp as Regina hit the floor face-first. Oh, shit!

It didn’t take long for all the cameras to start flashing, and the look on Regina’s face told me she knew that her life as the untouchable leader of the plastics was quickly coming to a close.

I figured that famous poet who said the world doesn’t end “with a bang but a whimper” clearly didn’t consider the fact that a teenage girl’s world could get explosive in an instant, without a single warning. I’m sure they’d change their mind once they met Regina George.

The curtains began to close, but not before I saw Regina take to her feet and speed backstage. I felt terrible for her. Was she one of the meanest people in the school? Yes. But, I was also in love with her- I mean- a firm believer that nobody deserved that level of humiliation. Not even mean girls. So, out of a sense of heartache and longing to comfort her, I did what any normal and not creepy person would do. I jumped out of my seat and went after her.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

I couldn’t actually follow Regina backstage, since I wasn’t in the talent show, so I ducked into the bathroom closest to the auditorium. As soon as I opened the door, I saw her, and my heart leapt into my throat.

She slammed her fists down on the sink in front of her, letting out an angry growl.

I gently closed the door behind me, not wanting to alert her yet, but my shoe audibly squeaked against the floor, and Regina’s head snapped in my direction.

I gasped once I saw her. It was an instant, and she quickly turned away, but after she made mascara tears a school-wide trend, it was hard not to notice when they were on her face.

“Get out.” She spat, still facing the other way.

“I- I wanted to see if you were okay.” I stammered.

“I didn’t say to start spewing mushy shit,” She insisted in that same cold tone. “I said to get the hell out.” When I didn’t immediately move, she roared. “NOW!”

I reeled backwards in surprise when she got loud, feeling an instant sense of guilt. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. I’ll go.” I turned to grab the door handle, but paused when I heard her sniffle again. “You know, I come to see your performance every year.”

“Yeah, everyone does, because I’m amazing.” I turned my head to see Regina impatiently drumming her fingers on the sink, gloves long abandoned. “What, did you think you were different?”

“No,” I admitted. “I know that nothing I do really sets me apart from anyone else in this hellhole.” She snorted at my remark, and I dared to slowly approach her. “So, yeah, I’m just like everyone else. I came to see your dance. I follow all the trends you set. I turn my head whenever you walk into a room. Hell, whenever you turn up, you’re all I can see.”

She snapped her head back to me, her face set in a stoic expression. “Are you mocking me right now?”

“No, no!” I stopped my advancements, waving my hands to emphasize. “I would never!” I moved my hands to my pockets, eyes drifting down to my shoes. “If anything, I was mocking myself. I’m just like any other nobody in North Shore. I honestly wouldn’t expect you to recognize me. Sorry for bothering you.” I bit my lip in shame, debating whether or not I should leave.

A beat of silence passed before I made up my mind to go, but before I had the chance, Regina spoke up. “You’re Y/N L/N.”

My jaw dropped.

“Ew.” Regina closed the gap between us, coaxing my mouth closed with a hand under my chin. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry.” I muttered, heat creeping into my cheeks. She touched me! She actually touched me!

“I do know you.” Regina went on. “It’s a bit hard not to notice when someone’s practically stalking you.”

My cheeks burned with humiliation. “I… I…”

A faint smile stirred at her painted red lips. “Especially when they’re as cute as you are.”

What? “What?”

“Ugh, get your ears cleaned.” She rolled her eyes. “I said I think you’re cute. Do you honestly think I’d let you creep on me if you weren’t?”

I scratched the back of my neck. “Sorry about that…”

“Don’t be.” Regina moved my hand before wrapping her arms around my neck. “I liked your eyes on me.” She pressed her body against mine, and I hoped she couldn’t feel my heart fluttering. “Everyone watches me, of course, but you’re the only one I like watching me.”

“Regina…” I breathed.

“Oh. My. God.” Regina scoffed. “Stop being such a prude and wrap your arms around me. What are you, a nun?”

“S- sorry…” I muttered, moving my hands from their tense position at my sides to hold her. I felt electricity under my fingers once they made contact with the skin of her midriff.

“That’s… better.” Regina ran her tongue over her teeth, like a hungry shark eying its prey. “I don’t wanna kiss you without your hands on me.”

WHAT?! “Wha-” She cut me off by pulling me into the promised kiss.

She rolled her body against mine, and I sighed, my eyes fluttering shut as I let her tongue into my mouth. Her hands clawed against my back as she tried to pull me closer.

She pulled away, only to keep kissing my face. She kissed all over my cheeks before trailing her kisses along my neck to the collar of my shirt. I shivered as one of her hands pulled at my shirt, and I felt her lips against the sweet spot in my neck.

“Regina…” I breathlessly sighed. “I adore you…”

“I know~” I felt her mouth spread into a grin against my mouth.

Then, all too soon, she pulled away from me, fixing her hair as she looked me up and down.

“You came to ask me if I was okay, right?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“Y- yeah,” I stuttered, still in shock from our kiss.

“Well, I’m better now~” She winked. “So, thanks for that.”

Before I could even formulate an idea on what I could possibly say next, she was out the bathroom door.

What just happened? I wondered just before my reflection caught my eye. I was covered in blotches of red lipstick. It was scattered on my cheeks, coloring my neck, and smudged across my lips.

I gingerly reached a hand up to admire myself. I was all marked up. I was Regina’s.

After tonight, we knew Regina might not have been queen of the plastics anymore, but I hoped that she left the room with the understanding that she would always be a queen to me. Her world didn’t end with a bang or a whimper. It ended with a kiss.

#mean girls #mean girls 2024 #mean girls movie #regina george #mean girls fanfiction #regina george x reader

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

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𝙼𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽𝚂 - chapter 5: stone in love.

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 - after presenting your portraiture project, you and eddie seem to get on a bit better... but how long can it last?

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 5.3k

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 - jealous?/protective eddie and a narrowly-avoided car accident... that's all I can think of

The professor tilted his head as he looked at Kate’s submission. “Aren’t you worried it’s a little obvious?” he asked, and she looked totally thrown off her rhythm by that.

“Well— uh, I— it’s just that—”

“Calm down,” he laughed lightly, “it’s not bad at all. The framing is perfect, and it makes the set work. The similarity between the two images makes it rather comical."

Kate had taken a picture of her daughter— barely a year old— laughing with glee as she sat on the kitchen floor, only to be already throwing a tantrum in the second picture. Based on the feedback, she’ll probably be getting a B from Professor Hill, and your palms got clammy as he stepped up to the next student; you didn’t need an A to pass the class, but you needed his approval for, you know, your sanity.

He tilted his head as he looked at Richie's submission next: two pictures of his wife, clearly posed, in sepia tones. "This is interesting," he hummed. "You're definitely showing two sides here. But… they're not as different as you think. I do like the subversion of expectations, though: the ‘happy’ side looks much more sinister than the more demure one."

"Th-thank you," Richie mumbled.

"Just maybe show a little more variety next time?" Professor Hill suggested, making Richie nod dutifully.

That feedback made you shift uncomfortably as you stood; it reminded you of waiting to be judged for the seventh grade science fair. You got second place and, though that still disappointed you because you were so close to first, your dad had taken you out for a sundae afterwards.

You swallowed as you watched the professor sigh at the sight of George’s photos. "Now, George, I see what you were going for here,” he said. “It's hard not to… you're beating me over the head with your message."

Considering George’s two photos were one of his model dressed as an angel and another dressed as a devil… yes, it was obvious. You felt a little better seeing that it wasn’t received especially well— you were afraid, when you saw George’s coming in today, that your set was too minimalistic.

But then he was looking at yours, and any sense of relief was gone as you straightened your back and waited for his feedback.

And waited.

He stared at yours for a long time. A long, long time. His face didn’t help you read him at all, and when he opened his mouth to speak, you were completely prepared for him to tear you to shreds for ignoring the prompt.

“You’ve done something so fascinating here,” Professor Hill finally broke the silence. “You know, everyone else in the class chose to show two radically different sides of their subject, in fact, most of them changed clothes for the second shot. But you… you’ve submitted two photos taken likely a split second apart.”

“Yes, actually, they were taken sequentially,” you explained.

“Why did you place them in this order?” he asked. “Why not this one on the right?”

“Well… I’ll show you,” you decided, peeling the photos carefully off of the posterboard and sticking them back on the other way around. “Doesn’t he look more insecure when they’re ordered this way? Like he’s just had a thought, but he’s deciding not to say it? I like it better the other way— it feels more hopeful.”

The professor smiled. “I agree. The order you’ve submitted them in, it evokes… the past and the future. On the left, a man caught in a memory; on the right, a man dreaming of a possibility.”

You heard some of your classmates snickering to themselves, no doubt rolling their eyes and deciding that this is all pretentious artsy over-analysis— but you smiled, because they were just jealous and Professor Hill was right.

“Congratulations,” he told you with a grin and a pat on the back, “this is really great work. I’m giving you full credit; and I’m encouraging you to submit this for the end-of-year showcase. See if you can find any galleries in Indianapolis looking for portrait work, too.”

You were so excited, you couldn’t stop yourself; as soon as you ran home from the bus stop, you jumped on Eddie with a tight embrace, beaming as you put your chin on his shoulder.

“Woah, hey,” he mumbled, but eventually, he put his arms around you. You pulled back, smiling up at him and laughing at the (understandably) confused look on his face.

“I got a perfect grade,” you explained. “Your pictures! I got an A+!”

“Oh, wow,” he smiled, hands tightening where they held your waist. “That’s amazing! Might be the closest I’ve ever been to getting an A+ myself...”

“You did get it, Eddie, it was all you,” you insisted.

“I just sat there!” he dismissed. “You took the pictures, you did all the hard work— and it paid off!”

The front door swung open, and you and Eddie looked at your mom and Wayne stepping in— and you both seemed to realize, at the same time, that his hands were around your waist and yours were at the back of his neck. And you must have also realized it was a little strange, because you both pulled away at lightning speed as your mom gave you a quizzical look.

“What’s going on?” she wondered.

“Mom— I got a perfect score on my portraiture project,” you explained, “the professor wants me to submit my work for competition.”

“Oh my god!” she gasped, running up to hug you. “That’s amazing!”

“Good job,” Wayne offered you a tilted smile and a thumbs up, which you reciprocated while you were still caught in your mom’s arms.

You glanced back at Eddie from the hug, catching his sympathetic smile.

“Let’s celebrate with a nice dinner, huh?” Wayne suddenly suggested. “We could go out somewhere—”

“Why don’t you grill some steaks?” Eddie interjecting instead. “Haven’t done that in a while.”

“If that’s what you want,” Wayne prompted you, and your mom released you from the hug.

Truth be told, you could think of a lot of dinners you would like more than Wayne’s homemade steaks, but, for one, you couldn’t think of any that your new makeshift family could actually afford…

And, two, it actually sounded sort of wholesome. Wayne at the grill, your mom making sides, and Eddie… being nice? He had gone soft on you for an afternoon in honor of your achievement, it seemed.

There was a peace to it— a sense of stillness and quiet even through the sounds of the meat on the grill, your mom making sides in the kitchen, the clanging of flatware as you and Eddie set the table. You knew it wouldn’t last forever, and Eddie would go back to his usual self soon; it could all collapse at any moment, the illusion of normalcy. It was less like a stalemate and more like a truce, like when armies declare a ceasefire for Christmas or something. You laughed politely at Wayne’s safe attempts at humor, your mom listening to Eddie’s story about how he talked his way out of detention, and both of them explained some wedding plans they’d made.

“Actually,” your mom began, looking down sheepishly for a moment at her fork piercing some pieces of corn, “we wanted to ask you two something.”

You felt oddly nervous as you imagined what question they could possibly have that could concern the both of you. You were watching her carefully, wondering if it would be the question you feared the most— the question you hadn’t even asked yourself yet— but it was Wayne that spoke up next. “We thought it might be nice if you—” he looked at you— “were the flower girl. And Ed, you could be the ringbearer.”

You glanced at Eddie, who did the same to you, and there was a shared understanding in a fraction of a moment— that you both wanted to point out that those were concerningly juvenile roles for two young adults, but that neither of you were going to say that just because it was easier to make them happy.

“That would be nice,” you nodded.

“I’m surprised you’re willing to give me any responsibility at all,” Eddie joked.

“I know they’re sort of silly jobs,” your mom smiled, “you’re probably thinking you’re a little old for a job kids normally do.”

You and Eddie looked at each other again.

“It wouldn’t be just that— the truth is, we decided not to have a bridal party,” your mom clarified.

“Right,” Eddie nodded, “and… what is that, again?”

“You know, groomsmen and bridesmaids and all that?” she told him. “The best man, the maid of honor?”

“Oh,” he hummed, “I thought— I thought a bridal party was a party you had before the wedding.”

“That’s a bridal shower,” you corrected.

“But wait, what about a bachelorette party?” he tilted his head.

“That’s a different thing,” your mom said, “and we’re not having one of those, either.”

“And no bachelor party,” Wayne added.

“Aw,” Eddie pouted, “I thought we were gonna go to strip club!” Wayne glared at Eddie who smiled nervously in response. “I’m kidding, obviously,” he mumbled sheepishly.

“The point is,” Wayne continued, “we both thought that, really, you’d be the only ones up there with us. There isn’t anybody else that matters to us much, anyways—”

I thought you had a brother, you almost blurted out, but then you realized it wasn’t worth bringing up now.

“We thought it might be sort of like having a best man and maid of honor, without calling it that. I-it was just an idea—” he stumbled, but you cut in.

“I’m really honored that you want us to be involved that way,” you assured, “and we’ll do whatever we can to help out on your day.”

Wayne smiled a bit and nodded, and your mom held and squeezed his hand. “We just want you both to know how special you are to us— and we’re so thankful that you’re supporting us. We know this hasn’t always been easy for you.”

For the third and final time, you and Eddie looked at each other. He was smirking like he could just burst out laughing right now; you imagined that you were giving him a hint of glare, but you couldn’t be sure what he saw in your eyes right then.

After that, normal dinner-consumption resumed; as usual, Eddie excused himself first— he ate fast and messy like he thought someone would swoop in and take his food away if he didn’t have it down in record time. Then your mom was finished, though she hadn’t actually finished her food, and got up to start washing dishes. And with just you and Wayne left, you figured it would be more enjoyable to help in the kitchen than try to navigate a conversation. “Thanks for the steaks, Wayne,” you told him, and with a mouthful of mashed potatoes he only offered you a polite nod as you got up and took your plate to the sink.

“Thank you,” your mom said to you quietly as you scraped your plate; you thought, at first, that she was thanking you for cleaning up after yourself, until you realized she wouldn’t thank you for something that basic.

“What for?” you pressed.

“For saying yes,” she replied. “Being our flower girl.”

“Oh,” you shook your head, “of course.”

“I know it’s silly,” your mom insisted again, “but it was Wayne’s idea, and I think it’s sweet. I think you and Eddie are still little kids to him.”

“He didn’t know me when I was a kid,” you noticed.

“No,” she agreed, “but, he knows how it feels.”

You didn’t know exactly what she meant, but you understood it enough to nod and smile. “I’m gonna go to my room,” you informed her, stepping out of the kitchen and through the living room to the hallway.

The ambient sound of Eddie’s presence— namely, the jingling of a chain and the sound of dull fingernails scratching under a mess of curly hair— made you stop outside your door, though.

You leaned around the corner, seeing Eddie holding your project in his hand; you'd had to shove the posterboard into your backpack to make it fit, but the pictures hadn't been folded at all. You were about to tell him not to go through your backpack like that, until you saw that he wasn’t doing anything.

He was just looking at the pictures— you hadn't shown them to him after development, but you let him know you'd picked two pictures from the same place.

That was meaningful since you and Eddie had taken way too many pictures, at tons of different locations around the Hawkins woods: two rolls of film were used by the end of the day.

"What do you think?" you asked him with a smile, making him jump as he realized you were watching. You could've sworn you saw him wipe his cheek with the back of his hand before he turned to look at you, but you couldn't be sure why.

"Yeah, uh," he cleared his throat, "they're good. You're… um, they're good."

“Thanks,” you nodded, “they are. I’m pretty happy with how they turned out.”

“You should be, you got an A,” he nodded, awkwardly sticking his arm out to hand them back to you. You took them back with a little smile. “Did you develop the one where I was hanging upside down from the tree? I kinda wanted to see it.”

“I didn’t,” you replied, “but I could, if you really want to—”

“No, no,” he shook his head, “don’t go through all that trouble.”

“Maybe I should,” you wondered, “and you could have it— like, something to remember our day together, I guess…”

Your heart was racing as you suggested it, but he shook his head again as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Oh, that’s not necessary. I’m never gonna forget that day,” he promised.

He didn’t say anything else, he just stepped past you and walked out of the room. You looked down at the pictures in your hand, and your professor’s writing underneath.

Great work! Excited to see what you can do with color next time. A+

You remembered what he said about looking for galleries to submit them to, and decided to get on with that— you left the room, too, in search of the phone book so you could start circling numbers to call tomorrow.

You would’ve never gone to sleep if you knew that Eddie was going to take over the house while you were unconscious.

It started innocently enough. "I'm gonna try to get some beauty rest for an hour or so," you announced to the lunch table as you stood up— because a foggy Sunday afternoon is the perfect time for a nap, and you hadn’t slept too well after waking up from a specific dream about your bunkmate.

"You're gonna need more than an hour," Eddie quipped, and you kicked him under the table.

"Sleep tight, honey,” your mom offered, and with that, you shut yourself in your room for a while.

You didn’t sleep all that much, but you did get some rest— most of all you got some quiet, which you were in desperate need of. Of course, you only got that quiet because you kept a pillow over your head, otherwise you would’ve heard Eddie watching TV so much louder than he needed to; he just had to try to disrupt you, it seemed.

You actually stayed stowed away for more than an hour— more like an hour and a half, until Eddie rapped on the door and leaned in.

“What?” you asked pointedly without looking up from your book.

"So, hey, here's the thing," he began. "The theater room is being used today by, well, theater— and we can't reschedule our campaign because Jeff has robotics camp…"

“There must be some part of this that I’m supposed to give a fuck about?” you assumed.

"We're meeting here tonight."

You slammed your book shut and stood up in front of your bed. "Hell no," you replied.

He coughed. "Uh, I wasn't actually asking. I live here too."

"I lived here first!" you reminded him.

"Your mom already said they could come over!" he rebutted.

"MOM!" you yelled for her, wanting that decision explained to your face.

"She's not home," he informed you, “left during your beauty rest. And she said I could have Hellfire here, so, eat me.”

“No thanks— they say you are what you eat, and I don’t wanna be a giant dork, so—” you quipped, but you were interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

“They’re here!” Eddie noticed excitedly, bounding down the hallway to the front door.

Curious, you followed him until you were in your doorway, crossing your arms and leaning against the frame.

He opened the door rather dramatically, revealing his band of fellow freaks on the other side, puffing up his chest and then bowing and extending his arm to let them in. “My good sirs,” he greeted.

They bowed in return; you felt like you were watching some kind of bizarre ritual. At least they won’t be low on virgins to sacrifice, you thought with a smirk to yourself.

It was the one with the curly hair and trucker hat that walked in first, looking around the house and nodding. “Nice place,” he told Eddie.

“It’s not his place,” you corrected, crossing your arms and getting the attention of the group. “It’s mine— or, well, my mom’s, but—”

“Woah,” the kid interrupted, eyes going wider. “You’re his sister?”

“I mean, not really—” you began, getting cut off again.

“He talks about you,” a gangly-looking kid with dark hair suddenly said.

“That’s— it sounds weird when you say it like that,” Eddie dismissed with a thin laugh as he wrapped his arms around both boys. “You came up,” he explained, “I mean, I wanted to warn them you’d be here, being all… annoying and stuff, presumably.”

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna stay as far out of your way as possible,” you promised, “I’m just gonna be in my room—”

“Wait, don’t we get to meet Eddie’s new sister?” the curly-haired one frowned. “After he talked about her so much?”

“What?” you asked.

One of the older boys, standing in the back, mumbled, “You don’t even know the half of it.”

“Hey!” Eddie barked at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped.

“Guys, can’t you just introduce yourselves? Act normal for a half second?” Eddie suggested to the group.

“You said normal is overrated,” the dark-haired one reminded him.

“Yeah, but this is a girl. You guys remember how to talk to girls, right?”

Most of them shook their heads.

“Lucky for you all, I’m actually a woman,” you frowned, “and I’m just gonna hide in my room, if you don’t mind—”

“Our room,” Eddie smiled, tilting back on his heels for a second.

The one with curly hair stuck his hand out towards you. “I’m Dustin. Henderson— Dustin Henderson, nice to meet you.”

You gave his hand a quick glance before shaking it; god knows where that’s been. “Eddie talks about you too, you know.”

“Really?” Dustin smiled.

“I’m sure much more flattering things than he says about me,” you laughed.

“Uh— I’m Mike,” the taller one offered next. “Mike Wheeler.”

“Wheeler! You’re Nancy’s little brother?” you noticed, and he nodded.

“Do you know her?” he wondered.

“Not well— but she and I— we met once or twice. I’m friends with her boyfriend, Jonathan— or, I guess, we were friends, before he moved… I dunno. Anyways,” you caught yourself oversharing, “nice to meet you.”

“I didn’t know you knew Will’s brother,” another one said, stuttering for a half-second when you looked at him. “I’m Lucas, by the way.”

“Yep, these are our new blood,” Eddie announced proudly as he stood behind the three boys. “The future of Hellfire.”

“Good to know you have lots of… impressionable children to spend your time with,” you said flatly.

“You, uh, probably don’t remember me—” another member said, but you were smiling at him before he finished.

“Jeff,” you nodded, “of course I do. You were the only one who could stay still for my pictures.”

His skin was too dark to show a blush, and yet you could tell he was anyways just by the way he smiled and glanced down. “O-oh, uh, yeah… that was a while ago.”

“Stuck with me,” you shrugged. “But you,” you turned your attention to the other one standing in the back, “you weren’t a member then, were you?”

“Uh, no,” he shook his head, “not yet. I’m Gareth.”

“Also known as Corroded Coffin’s metal-as-fuck rhythm guitarist and metal-as-fuck drummer,” Eddie added with a proud grin, “respectively.”

“Right,” you hummed, “I’m sure you’re… very, very loud.”

“We try to be,” Gareth shrugged.

“Okay, can we stop doing introductions now and get to playing?” Lucas groaned. “Please?”

They did; and you were going to hide in your room, you really were— you did, for the first ten minutes. But then you were hungry and decided to sneak something from the kitchen, especially without your mom around to judge you for the junk food.

That was the plan, but it went awry all too soon. You could hear them at the kitchen table, but they hadn’t spotted you; you stayed behind the wall in between, with only a view of Eddie’s shoulder and the corner of the table.

“I’ll… open the door,” Mike announced.

“No! Wait,” Jeff stopped him, “let me cast Find Traps first.”

“Good idea,” Dustin agreed.

“No traps,” Eddie told the table.

“Somehow, that feels ominous,” Lucas decided.

“Okay, I’m gonna open the door,” Mike insisted.

“You open the door,” Eddie informed him, “and behind the door waits… a troll!”

“Oh Jesus,” Jeff groaned.

“I knew it,” Lucas reminded everyone.

It took you a moment to realize that the slurred, deep voice you heard after that was actually Eddie’s troll impression as he spoke for it, and you covered your mouth to suppress a giggle at the ridiculous voice. You hopped up and sat on the counter, still obscured from the group’s view; there you stayed for the rest of the campaign, swinging your feet off the edge, trying your best to be discreet as you carefully snacked from a bag of chips, listening to Eddie and the club laugh and yell and roll dice like it was so much more than a dumb game.

You held your three-ring binder to your chest as you walked in step with Pete, laughing at his caricature-esque impression of Professor Bingen.

“Stop!” you snorted, pushing him on the shoulder. “He doesn’t sound like that!”

“He so does,” Pete insisted. “Today, uh, we’ll be discussing, uh, the, uh, human psyche, uhhh—”

“Come on,” you rolled your eyes, “that’s not fair— we talk about the human psyche every day.”

“Still,” Pete smirked, “he’s so boring. All of psychology is boring.”

“Then why did you even sign up for this class?” you wondered.

“Uh, isn’t it obvious?” he replied with a raised eyebrow. “That class is full of chicks!”

You sneered as you broke away from the eye contact— in the distance you spotted Eddie’s van, and he was outside of it, leaned against the passenger door. “Enrolling in a class just to meet girls,” you mumbled, “how romantic.”

“Hey, maybe it is,” Pete defended with an elbow to your side, “you don’t know— maybe I’ll meet Mrs. Right during one of those mind-numbingly boring lectures."

"I guess we'll see," you shrugged. "My ride's here, so I'll catch you later?"

"That's your ride?" he noticed, nodding towards Eddie. "Uh, he looks scary."

"He doesn't scare me," you rolled your eyes. Even without the tats and leather and other tough guy accoutrements, Eddie's uncharacteristic glare that he wore at the moment was contributing to the 'scary' persona. Who pissed in his cornflakes? you wondered.

"You, um…" Pete cleared his throat. "You hang out with guys like that?"

You looked at the classmate beside you, and realized by the look on his face what he meant. "Oh! No, he's my— he's my brother, I guess."

"Oh," Pete sighed. "That makes a little more sense. Still kind of terrified for him to see me with you, though, so, uh— catch you later?"

"Sure!" you agreed, waving, but he was already gone; he'd nearly left a cloud in the shape of his silhouette he ran so fast.

Deflating with a sigh, you approached Eddie where he was parked and waiting by the curb.

"'Sup?" you asked, but he said nothing, just opening the door for you and slamming it shut as soon as you were sat; he came around to the driver's side and you could definitely see that he was irritated, but you still didn't know why.

He broke the uncomfortable silence a few seconds after he started the van. “Who was that?” Eddie asked— already his tone put you off, and you moved your head back as you crinkled your brow.

“You mean Pete?” you replied, body lurching as Eddie began the drive with just a bit too much force. “He’s in my psychology class.”

“You two are, uh, friendly?” Eddie noticed, turning his head to change lanes and sending that hair spinning over his shoulders.

“Well, we have a project together,” you explained.

“And? Who is he?”

“He’s Pete,” you repeated.

“But like— what’s his deal?” Eddie pressed.

“Well, he’s single,” you sneered, “which you must be relieved to hear since you’re so obsessed with him.”

“Jesus,” Eddie rolled his eyes, “so now I can’t even ask about someone you’re talking to? I’m just curious, since, you know, you don’t have any friends.”

“Fuck off,” you spat.

“He’s probably trying to get you into bed, you know,” Eddie warned. “Just remember that.”

“He’s literally just trying to pass the class, as am I, Ed,” you denied.

“Nope! No way,” he shook his head, waving his hand quickly before putting it back on the steering wheel. “He only has one thing on his mind. And it’s not his fucking grades.”

“You would know,” you rolled your eyes.

“Exactly!” he yelped. “Men are disgusting. Don’t let that guy even think you’re interested in him, or he’s never gonna let it go. Also, you should probably have pepper spray in your backpack.”

“You know, to your credit,” you offered, sighing as you crossed your arms and looked out the window, “this is the first time I’ve really felt like I have a brother.”

His demeanor shifted suddenly, and he sounded way too proud of himself when he replied, “Really?”

You didn’t say anything, just puffing out a breath of air.

“Is that a bad thing?” he realized, deflating a bit.

“It is when it’s you!” you answered. “You’re trying to drive me crazy, right?”

He let out a little sigh. “Sometimes. And sometimes I just… I dunno.”

You looked at him to see him shaking his head. “What?” you wondered.

“Sometimes I’m actually just trying to protect you,” he admitted, catching your gaze for a moment, “believe it or not.”

Your question was just one word— an instinctive reaction, a first-thought-best-thought blurt. And in the Freudian tradition that you’d been learning about that very day, it said more than anything else could have.

You didn’t even look up from your lap where you were picking at one of your nails; it just sort of… came out.

“Why?” you asked him.

He didn’t look at you, he just smiled and glanced down for a second, before returning his focus to the road ahead.

Just then, saved by the chord, you heard an all-too-familiar tune start to play on the radio.

Josie’s on a vacation far away—

“Turn it up!” you demanded, as if you weren’t already reaching for the knob. “I love this song!”

“Of course you do,” he mumbled unenthusiastically.

“ —and talk it over,” you began to sing along emphatically, “so many things that I wanna say, you know I like my girls a little bit older—”

“How can you like this?” he glanced at you.

“Shut up, it’s good,” you shoved him on the shoulder. “I just wanna use your love, tonight—”

“This is horrible, I hate this,” Eddie informed you, and you turned to lean in closer to him as you sang confidently (if not too pitch-accurate).

“I don’t wanna lose your love, toniiiiight!”

You mimed the aggressive double-strike on the snare, beginning to drum all over the air as the song continued.

“I ain’t got many friends left to talk to, nowhere to run when I’m in trouble,” you continued, “you know I’d do anything for you—”

In the corner of your eye, you noticed Eddie looking at you, and you looked back at him as you grinned and kept singing.

“Stay the night but keep it undercover,” you added, and for some reason, you winked at him. He glanced away quickly.

You kept singing and dancing (as best you could while buckled into a passenger seat), swinging your head around wildly as the chorus played again. He watched you and laughed. “You know, it’s wasted on a song like this,” Eddie interjected, nearly yelling to be heard over the song, “but you do know how to headbang. You’d fit right in at a Corroded Coffin show.”

You stopped singing, because there weren’t words for the guitar solo anyways, and looked over at him. “Really? You should take me some time,” you decided, resting your arm on the console between you two.

“Yeah? I will,” he smiled, and you smiled back, and then you realized that you were pretty close to him— too close, maybe? But it didn’t feel too close, it felt… nice. It made your heart race, but you liked it anyway.

The interlude ended and the words picked back up again, but you weren’t singing along this time. You were too busy looking at Eddie’s eyes, because they were looking at your lips.

Try to stop my hands from shakin’, ‘cause something in my mind’s not makin’ sense…

Why was he looking at your lips? Why were you looking at his? Most of all, why did they look so… kissable?

Been a while since we were all alone, I can’t hide the way I’m feelin’...

It almost seemed like he was moving in closer— he wasn’t moving in closer, was he? He wasn’t about to kiss you, right? Oh god, he’s about to kiss you.

You knew you should stop him, you should put your hands on his shoulders and tell him that yes, you had thought about it too, but this can’t happen; you’re family, kind of. Well, not really, but… maybe too close to it?

You started to reach up to his shoulders, but you realized that if you touched him, you wouldn’t push him away— no, you’d pull him closer, you’d squeeze those strong shoulders, you’d tangle your fingers in that hair…

HOOOOOOOONK!

You and Eddie both screamed— briefly, but still embarrassingly high-pitched— as you looked back at the road and saw a truck speeding towards you in the oncoming lane… which the van had drifted into, of course. Eddie slammed the brakes and jerked the wheel quickly, which got you out of harm’s way but into the dirt on the side of the road; your hands grabbed at the first things they could find, which were your door on the right and his arm on your left.

Within a few seconds, the van came to a screeching halt and you and Eddie let out a simultaneous sigh.

You peeled your hand off of his arm, and he turned his head to the side with a blank— yet so expressive— look on his face.

Your Love was still playing. You reached forward and turned the radio off.

“That was fun,” Eddie announced breathlessly, “let’s have more near-death experiences together.”

#eddie munson x reader #stepbrother!eddie munson x reader

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rexscanonwife · 3 months

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Not me making a s/i for a game that I'm probably not even gonna play myself 😭🙏 here it is folks some simple ref of my bg3 tav!

She's a half-elf Paladin and a follower of Oghma, the God of Knowledge, with a sage background ♡ she's got an insatiable and somewhat macabre curiosity that leads her to explore things that are sometimes considered a bit disturbing but she finds fascinating! She has a bit of a manic edge that can make her seem a bit inconsiderate at times because she talks faster than she can think, but she means well and is very sweet! And of course she's catching feelings for a certain someone 😊

♡taglist♡: @me-myself-and-my-fos @tiny-cloud-of-flowers @sunstar-of-the-north @dearly-beeloved @changeling-selfship @crushes-georg @squips-ship @drjohndisco @adoredbyalatus

#artfarts #self insert #self ship #bg3 tav #bg3 self insert #bg3 #crush: 🗡#OUGGH I NEED A SHIP TAG 😭😭#thats the only thing i need to make wyll an official f/o...👉👈#GOD IDK HOW I FELL FOR HIM LIKE THIS #i cant help it he's so fucking sweet and romantic and he's so so so devoted to u when u romance him 🥺💖💖💖💖#maybe thats it devotion is a huge thing for me ajfjfk #if ur character will love with everything they have then im gone. and if the character is good with kids ajfjfk #WHICH WYLL IS BOTH #and idc if i dont have the game thats not gonna stop me uwu #i gotta draw us soon but alas...the call of dinner and needing to make it #but yeah her belt buckle has the symbol of oghma and her outfit is pretty simple but thats ok #between her studies she'll bash ur head in btw 😂 shes got no tolerance for nonsense #can u tell shes imbued with autism? specifically my autistic fixation on dark things #all my s/is have autism but the specific FLAVOR varies between them #and oughghh she'd be so enchanted by wyll 🥺🥺#and shed be so interested in karlach and astarion bcs she does a lot of reading about vampires and tieflings #she's just never met them before #thats what i mean abt MAYBEEE being a lil insensitive bcs she might not be the most soft about what she knows #but once they all get to know one another she'd be a very good friend to them and she'd throw down for them without hesitation 😤😤😤#speaking of karlach. uh 😳 uhm 😳😳 uhhhh #might want her too ngl 💘💖💘💖💘💖

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that-ari-blogger · 4 months

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The Gospel Of Elphaba

In May 1900, the George M. Hill Company published The Wonderful Wizard Of Oz, a book written by L. Frank Baum and illustrated by W. W. Denslow. That book captured the imagination of its audience enough to get sequels and one of the most dangerous film adaptations to make of all time.

The book was about good and evil, and featured a stereotypical medicine journey about a child trying to return home. It discussed personal growth and childhood fantasy and is generally a good book, even with the elements that haven't aged as well (again, it was published in 1900).

But then, in 1995, Gregory Maguire wrote Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, a fanfiction that takes a very different approach on the story. This book discusses the same themes, but from a different angle. Now things are complicated.

Enter Wicked, the musical, which dissects the themes even further, and uses its opening song, No One Mourns The Wicked to tear apart the idea of good and evil in the original book.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

I wasn't joking in the title of this post. No One Mourns The Wicked (NOMtW) and the musical as a whole do act as a gospel. Which is fascinating.

Now, I am not Christian, but I do have experience with the faith from a scholarly perspective and from growing up in a heavily Christian culture. As such, while I will treat the faith with the respect befitting any living religion, my perspective on it is that of an outsider looking in, so I cannot be considered a definitive source on Christianity.

The word "Gospel" comes from a few different sources, most notably "godspell" according to etymonline.com, which means "good spell" or "good message" or, if you really stretch the thesaurus, "good news."

The gospel of mark literally opens with "the beginning of the gospel of Jesus..." (English Standard Version) or "the beginning of the good news about Jesus..." (New International Version). So, the word is interchangeable.

And would you look at that, the opening words of NOMtW are:

"Good news, she's dead".

The song is deliberately drawing comparison between Elphaba and the Biblical Messiah, specifically with the defining act. Jesus' most famous act was his death, and the same is true for Elphaba. But both characters have more to their story than the surface level ideal, notably their perspective that people should be kind to each other, and that was why they were "killed". Also, neither of the two stay dead for very long.

But there is more to the similarity than just some neat little references, specifically in how they differ. And that might be contradictory, but it really isn't. Opposites are similar in how they relate specifically to each other. A thing can only be the opposite of something else, it can't be the opposite on its own.

NOMtW actively asks the question: "Was it actually good news?" Specifically in relation to Elphaba. Wicked is told from the perspective of Elphaba, and it frames her death as a tragedy. So NOMtW gives the audience the setup for that story.

"No one mourns the wicked!"

"No one cries they won't return!"

"No one lays a lily on their grave!"

Voiceplay has a phenomenal A cappella Medley for the Wicked musical that I highly recommend you check out.

These lines serve to build into the tragedy itself, they make you feel sad for the deceased person. But the anger with which they are said gives a different vibe. Suddenly, these become warnings, don't be wicked or else.

Fun fact: I was in a high school production of this musical, as a chorus member, and I was given the line about the lily. The director told to deliver the line as a threat to the audience, which reframes the meaning a bit, doesn't it? The chorus is telling you not to empathise with the Wicked Witch of the West.

And interestingly, that's who she is in this song. The name "Elphaba" isn't mentioned once. She is the Wicked Witch. That's who the audience thinks she is, and that's who the chorus thinks she is. The citizens of oz become the audience surrogates.

Glinda, the good witch, then begins to argue with the chorus. Her melodic voice contrasts with the spite of the Ozians, and that translates into her lyrics.

The conflict here is to confuse the audience, I think. It is to ask them who they think they should be agreeing with here. And when the chorus echos Glinda's words, they change them. Those last three lines become:

"And goodness knows,

the Wicked's lives are lonely.

Goodness knows,

The Wicked die alone.

It just shows when you're Wicked,

You're left only

On your own."

What is truth in this world? Can even that be trusted? That's what the musical as a whole seeks to answer, as well as what consequences that has on the real world.

"Nothing grows for the Wicked

They reap only

What they've sown"

"Are people born Wicked? Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them? After all, she had a father. She had a mother, as so many do"

I have put some of the above quote in bold, and that is because it is a fantastic question to ask in a story about good and evil. In the original book and subsequent film, the Wicked Witch of the West is evil because she does evil things. She tries to kill Dorothy on multiple occasions, so she is evil, right?

Here, Glinda asks a simple question: "Why did the witch do that?" And this part of the song becomes spoken instead of sung, to really emphasise the point.

But Glinda also tries to humanise Elphaba here, she had a mother and a father. This reminds me of another humanising moment, but not from the bible this time.

"Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? ... If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?"

This is from Act 3 Scene 1 of William Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice, written in the 1590s. And it features Shylock, the outcast of the plot, appealing to a collection of people that he is in fact, just as human as them. He tries to convince them that the outsider is worth respect just as much as any other, and that his actions have motivations just as much as any other.

In that story, the appeal has no effect, and in Wicked, written 400 years later, I can't say it is any different.

The moment with the mysterious lover is important because it is yet another specific divergence from the biblical story. It turns out to be the Wizard, a man from another world, who comes to see the mother of the protagonist. But the divinity is removed, and that's a key element here. Elphaba isn't a one-to-one Jesus figure, she's had all of the intrinsic morality taken away and replaced with being green.

Elphaba is othered because of a physical alteration caused by elements she has no control over. She is outcast from even her family because of her appearance. I will talk in another post about what being green means in story, but for now, it is most certainly not heavenly, instead being linked with the garden of Eden with the snake and the apple.

That apple is a neat connection to the vial that the wizard offers Elphaba's mother, once again reframing the story. Now the Wizard gets aligned with the snake, making Elphaba the antichrist? This metaphor goes buck wild if you look too far into it.

Final Thoughts

I have a love for Wicked, to the point where it is one of those formative stories for me. The music is fun and as I grew up, I realised that I empathised with more characters than I was entirely comfortable with.

If this is the first of my posts you have read, I do analysis of storytelling. This will be a series on Wicked as a whole, specifically delving into the songs and what they say about the musical's themes. Next week, I will take a look at The Wizard And I, so stick around if that interests you.

#wicked #rants #literary analysis #literature analysis #character analysis #what's so special about...?#wicked the musical #wicked musical #elphaba #the gospel of elphaba #glinda upland #elphaba thropp #wizard of oz #no one mourns the wicked

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mitochondriaandbunnies · 1 month

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Miami Vice S1E18: Made for Each Other

Larry's house burns down, and Izzy and Noogie are sent undercover.

Made for Each Other suffers immensely from coming right after The Maze, which is a true "the system is broken" classic Vice episode. Made for Each Other is a comedy breather, and actually kind of great in its own right, but where it sits in the progression of the series feels more like a deflation than a break.

Made for Each Other is also almost comically homoerotic-- it's the episode that convinced me that Sonny is supposed to be a textually closeted bisexual man on my first watch through of the series, but on a repeat watch it's somehow even more obvious. Why are there all those half-naked bears on a boat? Why is the entire plot basically "Stan and Larry sort of have a breakup because of Stan's new girlfriend and then get back together at the end?" Why does Izzy keep saying things like nubile and anal? Why does the camera linger so very long on his and Noogie's cigarillos touching? What's up with the repetition of 'shafted'? Why are all the guests at Noogie's wedding like, extras from a Boy George video?

Why does this happen?

(plz draw your OT3 like this)

Anyway I actually really like Made For Each Other upon rewatch, it really just should have been placed elsewhere in the season. It's a fun, silly episode, and a little levity is necessary in a series that is often so very bleak.

The episode opens with Sonny and Rico trying to catch a counterfeiter, and Rico is bitchy and condescending to Sonny in a way that I think is supposed to be "ha ha, my criminal persona is a dick," but actually just comes off as "ha ha, I am a dick." It seems like he's trying to impress the counterfeiter by throwing Sonny under the bus. This occasional cruelty towards someone he does genuinely like is a fascinating part of Rico's characterization, and part of what elevates his character writing to "actual nuanced person" and not "nice Black sidekick who always supports the main white guy." Rico absolutely sees himself as more educated and worldly than Sonny, and occasionally he lets that slip. He has a very complicated relationship to both class and geography-- he's a New Yorker (...from the Bronx), he wears a perfectly tailored suit everyday (...and is a poorly paid cop), he idolizes Sonny for his football career but also thinks he's a bit of a yokel. As someone whose own class status is a bit shaky, Rico tends to get a little mean when it seems like he might be 'found out.'

Zito almost gets blown up in the ensuing warehouse fire, and Switek flips out. A short while later, a surprisingly chill Zito says he believes things are "either in whack or out of whack," shortly after while they discover that his entire house is on fire.

Please note the company that moves Zito's stuff to Switek's house:

I am dying

Trudy and Gina, in their only real appearance in the episode, very sweetly present Zito with a new fish as an office gift. Sonny is a dick about it.

Swi and Zito go to investigate BONZO BARRY who is a shady stereo and computer system dealer who has a FUCKING SEAL in his store

Michael Talbott is wildly overacting this entire episode, like to the point that I wonder if they had to turn down his mic

Noogie is marrying a stripper(?) named Ample Annie. They argue about going to Disneyland while she's practicing her routine. She does a striptease down the aisle. She is perhaps the only person bonkers enough to keep up with Noogie.

Stan's girlfriend, Darlene (who was Larry's girlfriend a short period of time ago), is extremely unhappy with Larry staying at their house, and spends the entire episode either complaining or being upset that the conditions are not right to bone; frankly, Stan does not seem to like her and she does not seem to like Stan. The most likely reasoning behind this is "bad 80's hurr hurr the ol' ball and chain" comedy, but considering the homoeroticism of the episode I'd like to think it could be a comment on compulsory heterosexuality

Izzy and Noogie show up at Stan's and, in one ridiculous whirlwind, declare the current case "theirs," ask who is the "Captain Kirk of this Enterprise," and start eating Stan's breakfast

In one scene Tubbs asks Zito and Swi if they want backup and they both very loudly yell NO like he's the reason everything has been on fire in this episode

Switek asks Zito at one point, "do you ever think about the future, Larry?" and Zito answers No.

This is funny the first time you watch the episode!

This is not funny anymore after Season 3.

The bad guy (whose crime seems to be like. Selling stolen stereos or something equally stupid) has a boat full of half-naked men with guns. This is not remarked upon.

Then we get to the Night Talk scene. I've talked at length about this scene before, but basically: Zito has been kicked out of Switek's and is sleeping at the station; Sonny comes in, romantic music plays, Zito basically describes Switek as the perfect man, and Sonny tries to get Zito to come back to his place (and fails.) It's very gay. I like to think that Sonny has a burgeoning crush on Rico at this point but is certain Rico is straight (and also. Y'know. Was a bit of an asshole at the beginning of the episode.) and takes desperate, tragic shot on Zito because of that. Zito politely declines because his heart is already spoken for.

Meanwhile, Stan is unable to perform sexually because he's thinking about Larry.

I'm sure that means nothing.

The outfits at Noogie's wedding are just. They are. Truly they are something.

The priest is a leather daddy. Many people appear to be in space blankets, including Noogie. Annie has a tearaway wedding dress. The pianist has the world's most incredible zebra shirt. There are headbands and weird hats abound.

By contrast, all the members of Vice look like they're supposed to be at a PTA meeting. (Also Sonny looks like he wishes he could ask where the punch is but doesn't want to bother Gina and Trudy, who are clearly each others' plus-ones.)

And the episode ends with Switek and Zito, side by side, at a wedding.

#miami vice #miami vice s1 #s1e19 #made for each other #larry zito #stan switek #izzy moreno #noogie lamont #sonny crockett #my gifs

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bonesandthebees · 4 months

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after barely reading (published) books for the past few years, I finally got back into reading around the end of 2023. I ended up reading 6 books total in the year, which isn't a lot but in total fairness I'd only read two books into november. then I read the other 4 all between november and december.

anyway in case you're curious what I read in 2023 was

I'm Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy (listened to it as an audiobook when I was driving from New Jersey to Florida, I think McCurdy is an incredible writer and her authorial voice was so unique especially with the way she adjusted the writing style based off her age in the time period being talked about. incredibly raw and painful to listen to)

Game of Thrones by George RR Martin (worked through it so slowly from february all the way to november, I tried watching the first episode of the show while I was reading it and I got so pissed off at how much the show changed and flattened out characters, especially the women)

She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan (amazing, showstopping, absolutely love the exploration of gender and sexuality in it along with the constant push and pull between morality and ideas of destiny and grandeur. It's set in China during the time when the Mongols ruled and that's a time period I didn't know much about before reading so it was incredibly interesting to learn about, and I cannot wait to read the sequel)

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn (definitely still think Gone Girl was better, but I adore Flynn's writing and how she explores incredibly fucked up women and their relationships)

The Poppy War by RF Kuang (wasn't my favorite, I've heard amazing things about RF Kuang as an author and I really like her writing style, but I know this was her first novel and it definitely feels like a new author kind of book. Loved the worldbuilding and thought it was super fascinating and appreciated the grim and brutal depiction of the realities of war. didn't grip me as much as I wanted it to. very excited to eventually read Babel though)

and then

The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon (one of my new favorite books ever. literally could talk about it for ages. amazing worldbuilding and a plot that takes you all over this incredibly detailed world, a fantastic cast of characters who are all so nuanced, a very deftly woven plot, gorgeous writing style, lovely wlw romance, just such a great epic high fantasy novel) (it's over 800 pages but didn't feel that long at all it's so easy to get into)

my goal for 2024 is to read at least 20 books which might not seem like much to some people but considering reading 5 books in 2023 was more than I've read in the past 3 years combined I think it's a pretty fair goal. probably will ramble about my to read list here soon, I've already started reading The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes which I'm really enjoying so far. as always I love Suzanne Collins' writing style :)

#ramblings #bee reads

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nitewrighter · 4 months

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How much does the fact that Moore himself considers "The Killing Joke" one of his greatest writing regrets factor into your thoughts on it?

I mean, I can see why he would have a lot of regrets about it because of the climate of the time and the infamous "cripple the bitch" exchange, and, obviously, because it steered the Joker as a character into the much darker and edgier version we know today and set a lot of nasty precedents in comics with a proliferation of violence against women as shock value. It basically created this situation where everyone wanted their writing to have the impact of Alan Moore, but unfortunately, they weren't Alan Moore and were in fact just kind of sexist dickbags for whom the actual horror and emotional impact of the dark content of the stories is transformed into the cheap and exploitative--I guess the TL;DR version of it is, Alan Moore is George R. R. Martin, but if GRRM realized his writing spawned 800 David Benioffs and D.B Weisses who would go on to define the fantasy genre for the next three decades. I'd be full of regret, too.

I think for me, not to like, disparage Moore or anything, but I do feel like the Comics Code created the atmosphere that was primed for him to have this massive splash on comics: Readers were hungry for stories with drama, lasting impact on characters, confrontation with uncomfortable questions that had long been more or less brushed off by virtue of the temporariness of the medium and the suffocating rules of the comics code. And Moore's content fit the bill.

If it wasn't Moore, it would have been someone else, but I'm honestly kind of glad it was Moore. It's even kind of funny in a morbid way, considering Moore was more or less over superheroes as a genre to begin with--but as I've talked about with my posts with early superman, the edges of superheroes as a genre is porous. I've talked about Superman being a Screwball romantic comedy in a sci-fi setting, so it's not unthinkable that Moore would end up dragging the conventions of the superhero genre to darker places by incorporating more elements of horror, pulp, crime noir, and even some Lynchian soap opera/gothic elements. I mean, it's equal parts fascinating and painful, because even though it sent comics down this dark copycat path, it really should have revealed how remarkable it is you can plug other genres' storytelling conventions into the superhero genre. Moore's stories slap not because they're Superhero stories, but because he's plugging superheroes into his stylistic/genre comfort zone.

But also the thing is, I'm one of those people who prefers Barbara Gordon as Oracle rather than Batgirl, and I do feel like the core of the Killing Joke is really more about the folie a deux of Batman and the Joker and I genuinely really like that. I also think that as we (rightfully) get caught up in the horror of the position Barbara is put in, we completely brush over the fact that Commissioner Gordon was literally being lead around naked on a leash. All the outrage I ever heard about the Killing Joke was Barbara getting crippled and the photos, literally no one mentioned Jim Gordon being lead around naked on a leash and kept in a circus cage! Like, is that not also a shocking violation of his personhood? I think both Gordons were meant to be seen as a unit, they were both humiliated and dehumanized, and they both represent two sides of Batman--Barbara representing that childish, powerful emotional core, the kid in a Halloween costume who hopes if they punch enough faces they can bring daddy back, and Jim representing Batman having to be an adult, having to recognize the boundaries of the law, and having to act as a guardian. Like, yes, Barbara and Jim, are obviously, to their credit, brilliant detectives, but they're also placed in these relationships to Batman of 'mentee' and 'Mentor/Partner.' For the Joker, it wasn't about using Barbara to hurt Batman and Jim, so much as it was about using *Barbara and Jim* to harm Batman. But that's also why ultimately the Joker's focus fell on Jim in relation to Batman--Jim Gordon represents these adult, institutional realities, the idea that ultimately you have to work to protect a society, and Joker wanted to use the adult who represents accountability to that society to prove his whole "One bad day" philosophy. the Joker basically goes through his most famous version of his whole "One Bad Day/Society is a Joke" spiel in that comic. I was going somewhere with this. This was going to link back to Moore somehow--Ah well. See above point of, "Genre-impact wise, I can see why he would have regret about it. But also I think those genre impacts were due in large part to people only valuing the story for its shock value and you can try to make yourself as simultaneously clear and representative of your personal style as possible, but that's not going to stop The Point from flying right over people's heads." Something something "Wow cool robot!" comic.

There is so goddamn much to unpack in The Killing Joke, both in its textual relations to the characters and the potential inspirations Moore was working from, and in its impact on comics. I feel like I'm gnawing on a big mutton bone.

#the killing joke #dc #alan moore

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femmedefandom · 8 months

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so aside from Bill and Charlie, I don’t actually like any of the Weasleys (talking book canon, not fanon or movies). most share a naive binary « you’re with me or against me » mentality in which they are always in the right/have the moral high ground and can be prejudiced or outright cruel to those who oppose it. from major ideological disputes to differing opinions and interests, if you don’t agree, then you’re not worth their time or affection. or they’re just not wonderful people.

Arthur: this is a man who is so grossly incompetent that after years working in an office specializing in muggle artifacts, he still has no idea how muggle life works or even how to pronounce basic words. treats muggles like fascinating creatures to be studied, not humans, despite having vague ideologies about supporting their existence. operates as a supporting act to his wife, not as a united front. had more children than he can afford to support on his salary. raised those children to believe all Slytherin are evil.

Molly: majorly judgmental and passive aggressive woman who wields her love and approval like a bait and switch for her children. so smothering that every single one of her adult children got out ASAP. claimed a literal 14/15 year girl was a harlot based off rumors and completely discarding years of friendly relations. despised her first son’s fiancée for having the audacity to be beautiful, French, and disagree with her opinions. cut all contact with Percy when he joined the ranks of the ministry/not wanting to die for Dumbledore’s cause that seemed under manned and outmatched, despite him giving no indication that he was involved with DE. had too many children to give appropriate attention, care, and support to, leaving them to feel neglected and not worthy.

Percy: stuck up snob yes, but I don’t think his ambition is necessarily a bad thing considering he grew up without a lot and wants différent for himself. What he is is sort of tunnel minded in thinking that just because he doesn’t outright support DE, that his work in the clearly corrupt ministry was doing any good. Following the law is right in theory but not all laws are fair. He swung too far in the other direction when he could have used his position to warn people about policies set up to hurt them.

Fred & George: for those who like them, they’re wonderful and brilliant pranksters down for a good time any time. But they turned their brother’s teddy bear into a spider in his arms giving him lifelong trauma. Relentlessly terrorized Percy in the name of a joke (that he was the butt of and never enjoyed). stuck that Slytherin kid Montague in such a life threatening situation that he had to risk untested apparition to get out and survive and laughed about it. Boo-d literal children who got sorted into Slytherin and set the tone that a sorting out of their control was enough reason to be mocked and degraded.

Ron: wants everything but doesn’t work to get it. He complains when he’s not the best but you don’t see his efforts to improve. Loves being Harry’s friend but hates being « Harry Potter’s » friend and takes that frustration out on him. Always willing to assign everyone the worst motivations from outsiders like Viktor to any Slytherin to his best friends Harry and Hermione. He’s just really petty.

Ginny: has a celebrity crush on a kid at age 10 and holds onto that for years despite very limited interaction with the person in question, which is super creepy. like her mother, she hates on Fleur for having the audacity to be beautiful, French, and receive Bill’s love (apparently it is also her fault that guys in general are smitten with her). we’re told she received support and advice from Hermione about Harry and then when Hermione expressed concern that Harry didn’t agree with, Ginny immediately cut her down and invalidated that. not too much to go off with Ginny but with the little I read it’s not good.

#the weasleys #anti molly weasley #anti arthur weasley #anti fred weasley #anti george weasley #anti percy weasley #anti ron weasley #anti ginny weasley #look I’m not saying they’re all evil or anything #I just can’t stand when so called good characters don’t have their flaws acknowledged #you can still like them #but if you ignore the worst parts of them do you actually like the character?#or just your idea of them?#a well written character has reasons for crappy behavior #as all the weasley do…for the most part #but that doesn’t mean it’s okay

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fictionadventurer · 6 months

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Victober Wrap-Up

The Romance of a Shop by Amy Levy: I read this one on October 1st. Very easy, very fun, if very underwritten, read about four sisters who open a photography shop. Gives a fascinating perspective on a different side of Victorian daily life.

The Europeans by Henry James: I forgot this one almost immediately after reading it, but I did enjoy it. The best way I can describe what I like about Henry James is that he writes like a woman. There's a concern for the inner lives of characters and the little moments of daily life that you usually don't see from male authors, and it works really well for the types of stories he tells.

Miss Meredith by Amy Levy: Short novella about a young woman who takes a job as a governess in Italy, and who gets a much nicer romance out of it than most of those types of characters. It's nothing ground-breaking, but it's fun to see her perspective on the setting, and the romance reminded me so much of some scenes from an old, beloved, abandoned WIP that I couldn't help liking it more than it probably deserved.

The Law and the Lady by Wilkie Collins: I loved the heroine of this book. I was so invested in her story. She was going to solve the mystery of her husband's past, no matter who stood in her way. Her (hilariously) pathetic wet napkin of a husband doesn't deserve her, but he needs her, and she loves him a lot, so I can root for them. It's astounding to me that a Victorian man can write such good female characters. They get to be people--strong-willed, intelligent, flawed, the center of their own stories rather than just a prop in someone else's. My love for Valeria papered over a lot of other flaws in this story (some not-great use of disabled characters, for one), and I'm seriously considering picking up another of his books next month. (They have perfect November vibes).

The Leavenworth Case by Anna Katharine Green: Not technically Victorian (it's American), but still the right time period. Apparently, this is where a lot of the detective genre started. I love the detective--he's got a quirk of not making eye contact with people, and I love that he's explicitly so working-class than he can't pass himself off as a gentleman for investigating this high-society crime--but I don't care about any of the characters, and the writing's not great. (Though it's kind of hilarious how often the narrator gets information because people come up to him and go, "You're a lawyer, right? Let me ask for advice about an intricate situation that just happens to tie into the case you're investigating.") I'm about 2/3 done with the audiobook, but it's going to be a bit of a slog to finish.

A Child's Garden of Verses by Robert Louis Stevenson: I'd probably find this a bit too cutesy most of the time, but I read this on a Sunday when I was feeling under-the-weather, and it was exactly what I needed. Very sweet, easy read.

Wuthering Heights by Emile Brontë: I made it a chapter and a half. It's a Hard No.

Diary of a Nobody by George and Weedon Grossmith: I heard it was short and funny, so I tried a couple of pages. Maybe there's a cultural divide, but I just wasn't feeling it.

The Odd Women by George Gissing: I tried a couple of chapter of the audiobook, because a story about women working as typists in late-Victorian England sounds right up my alley. I'm only two chapters in, but I'm debating whether to go further, because he already writes about women like a man--way too detailed descriptions of their physical appearance that suggest they're already decrepit in their early 30s, a suggestion that "we leave it to the men to decide if she'd be attractive"--and that doesn't bode well for a book with a female cast. It is just about to introduce the "progressive" woman who's about to drag the main characters into this newfangled job, so maybe it'd get better, but I'm not sure I'm invested enough to try.

#books #victober

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atopvisenyashill · 1 month

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Dances of the dragons; what are things you like about the story in the show and book.

Well clearly I’m very fond of Rhaenyra and her little family. Something I really like exploring in fiction is ~blended families~ having been born into one myself and I find it fascinating especially in the pseudo-medieval context of a song of ice and fire. The complexity of balancing this family with what the world at large considers proper, of protecting this family when it's very existence is a threat to the established order of things.

I also really love the whole Aegon/Sunfyre and Baela/Moondancer stand off. I think the narrative aspects of it are amazing and it fits their characters so well. Baela being purposefully kept out of the war, kept even from defending Dragonstone, going off on this long shot stand off against the leader of the enemy faction and then she fails. I think what is often forgotten about Baela in this instance is that her amazing bravery is worth nothing in the end. Aegon still takes Dragonstone, Rhaenyra is still murdered, and worst of all, Moondancer dies and Sunfyre is mortally wounded. All she does is help kill two more dragons, help kill the power of her own family, sacrificing her own beloved dragon, her own agency later in life, for nothing not even a temporary win. Then you have Aegon as Sunfyre's only rider, Sunfyre feeling Aegon's distress and sacrificing his own life to come save Aegon, taking not one but two life ending crashes to the ground all for love of Aegon, and then just dying and leaving Aegon such a mess he's dragging Baela out and threatening to become a kinslayer with his own two hands in front of the entirety of King's Landing. The moment Sunfyre dies, Aegon is dead. They are too connected in a way many of the other bonds are not. It's not just like Vhagar or Caraxes mindlessly going into death because it's what their riders want from them; no, Sunfyre seeks death out in a vain attempt to save his rider, after Aegon goes through deliberate pains to separate himself from Sunfyre to spare Sunfyre the same fate as Vhagar, Caraxes, Arrax, or Meleys.

Also that final confrontation between Aegon and Rhaenyra - that i hope you died / you first, you are the elder exchange - is soooooo good. The way Aegon traumatizes the Younger the way Helaena and Jaehaera were, completely screwing over his own heir in his rage, and Rhaenyra's body isn't even safe from being sexually abused when she's dead.....George was cooking here.

As for the show, I think the casting is leaps and bounds better than the main show. I think probably the weakest links on the cast are (I'm about to get tomatoes thrown at me here) Ewan, Emily, and Sonoya but I don't think any of them are bad by any stretch. Emily does some amazing work showing Alicent's despair and anxiety and intelligence. I would put her on the same level as Maisie in the original show - she needs some time to find her feet as an actor but you can see her growing and changing as an artist and performer before your eyes. Sonoya has a bit of a lackluster script to work with (it's hard to adapt Mysaria, she's just a bunch of awful ~far east~ stereotypes rolled into one upsetting character) and she's also clearly struggling around her accent. I'm hoping she'll pull a Peter Dinklage next season and get used to the accent. Ewan is also here I guess (*kanye shrug* I think he looks too old and little Aemond was leagues better, sue me!!). But everyone else is just on their mark constantly, elevating the script with their own ideas or acting choices. And what I'll give Condal, Hess, and Miguel is that they also let the actors have a say in the characters. In my opinion, the best shows always include actor input. Three of my favorite shows in fact - Leverage, Battlestar Galactica, and Farscape - all include rather long arcs for several characters that came because the actors said "can we dig into what motivates my character more? i wrote out a backstory if you're interested" or "i'm not sure my character would react that way, i think it would go this way" and the writers listened and let them be part of the writing. I love to drag these writers for all the best ideas coming from the actors but I find it commendable that instead of plugging their ears to minor pushback like D&D did, they said "damn tom, olivia, this carriage scene is so much better the way you're doing it, go crazy" or "hey matt you're doing some great acting here, tell us what you're thinking, let's dig in" and emma has talked extensively about how they let them really dig into gender performance as they wrote the character.

Maybe that doesn't seem like a big compliment but, at the risk of sounding too cheesy, I think art is a conversation ya kno?! It's a push and pull between the performers, the writers, the cinematographers, the special effects, as well as the viewer. When you see art as a dictatorship, it stifles what you're saying. But when you bring in fresh eyes, when you collaborate, I think you are more likely to have a much more polished, much more beautiful end product. And I think in allowing like, Emily Carrey the ability to read her own queerness into Alicent and then portray that on screen made for an Alicent that feels so much more real than if Emily was forced to simply read the words on the page without emotionally connecting to it! Look at how Stephen Dillane and the guy who played Barristan were clearly phoning it in because they weren't listened to! Look at how clearly annoyed Gwendoline and Nikolaj were at the ending there because they didn't like how the plot was going! When the artists are involved in the making of their own craft, it's just better!

(but what about Rhys, you say, didn't you once say he had negative charisma? yes, yes he does, i think he's wildly overrated as an actor and i don't understand the appeal but i think otto himself is also devoid of charisma so rhys fits!! i am a hater sorry!!!)

Anyways, yes, I love Rhaenyra and Aegon because I love deranged gay older sister - violent beefy young brother duos from hell with all my heart, I love Baela the Burnt with all my heart, and I love all the actors and the collaborative nature of HOTD.

#asks #anons #the dance of the dragons #also i will stop myself from ranting about hardison/eliot and gina frolm bsg and the dog with two bones episodes of farscape aljsdflk #house of the dragon

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meraki-yao · 2 months

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Omg AMAZINNG! Thank you that is fascinating. I’m American and unfortunately do not speak most other languages (just French!) but that is so cool that that person posted about their scientific analysis! Poor George. All I know is he gets murdered but I didn’t know how. If Nicholas acted out a hanging that’s so intense. Thank you thank uouuuuuu

Firstly you're absolutely welcome! It's honestly fun for me to do translation (at this point I'm genuinely considering seeing if I can get a part-time job as a translator) and I got to learn from my translation :D

About George though, ehehehe, I um, wouldn't call him poor. This is part of my complicated feelings towards M&G: Geroge was assassinated/ stabbed to death at the young age of 35, yes, and a lot of what he did was his mother's manipulation and it's going to be interesting to see how much was Mary Villiers' doing, but at least historically Geroge was not... a victim, or an unwilling player or whatever. He's a corrupted politician who was given great power due to the King's love, in fact at one point he and the later Charles I were the de facto rulers of England and Scotland while James was still alive and on the throne, but he used that power completely selfishly: when soldiers and sailors under his command asked for their food, he literally ran away from his responsibilities and went back to the castle by swimming through the Thames; his attitude, ATTITUDE during negotiations leds to wars with Spain and France, two of the other most powerful/influential kingdoms of Europe at the time. Those wars effectively ended quite immediately upon his death.

So... yeah, this is absolutely a me issue that I'm trying to mentally figure out: because he's played by Nick, a lot of us who are planning to watch M&G have a sense of affinity toward George by association, but for some reason, I don't, and the amount of "Geroge is a babygirl princess" comments, although I know not serious, bothers me? Maybe it's because I went to learn about the historical George before I saw Nick as him and made my character judgement then? Again I understand this is completely a me issue, not others. I'm trying to figure out how to deal with this mentality.

#mary and george #george villiers #nicholas galitzine #anon ask #answered #meraki rambles

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lizziestudieshistory · 9 months

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Books of 2023 - July

Somehow I've read a lot this month but haven't actually finished that many books considering I've been on holiday? I don't really know what happened.

Books read:

Silas Marner by George Eliot - this is by far the biggest surprise of the year. I was convinced I wasn't going to like George Eliot, but after reading Silas Marner I've been enchanted by her. On the surface I should have found this book a bit tedious, I typically don't like novels set in the countryside, however, I was hooked! Eliot's writing style was the big attraction here, she has such a lively style that I swear could make anything interesting after this, alongside her astoundingly convincing portrait of a village community in the 19th century. I came away believing people like those that inhabited Raveloe existed and I was fascinated by them. (It probably helped that I am VERY familiar with villiage communities in Warwickshire thanks to my research, which is where Raveloe is supposed to be.) Honestly this was the best place for me to start with George Eliot and I will be continuing.

The Age of Innocence by Edith Whaton - this was an impromptu read when I wanted an audiobook to listen to while sewing. However, I thoroughly enjoyed listening to this book! I was swept away into 1870s New York society and was captivated by how casually awful everyone turned out to be. I didn't enjoy it as much as The House of Mirth (mainly because I didn't like Archer, May, or Countess Olenska as much as Lily or Seldon) but I had a fabulous time revisiting Wharton.

Much Ado About Nothing by William Shakespeare - I love this play, it brings me so much joy when I read it and this time was no different. I still believe Beatrice is Shakespeare's best heroine and I will accept no arguments to the contrary.

Approximately 25 articles, reviews, essays, and introductions about Jane Austen's Emma by various authors - I don't know what's happened to me, I've become an obsessive... However, I have had a great time and learnt A LOT about regency literature in the process? It's given me a greater appreciation of Emma and I don't regret a moment I spent on this. My only problem is I don't really know what to do with all my notes!

DNF:

Mansfield Park by Jane Austen - I tried okay? However, I finished volume one and couldn't find a single reason to keep reading except completionism. I hated Fanny and the Bertrams, I was bored by the Crawfords, and I missed the style of Emma. Overall, I was left wondering why I was bothering with Mansfield Park as I wasn't enjoying myself. So, I dropped it to read something else that I'd actually enjoy.

Currently reading:

Evelina by Frances Burney - I'm in love with this book, but for some reason I'm not devouring it? I'm taking my time with it and revelling in the experience - I've made my peace with this and will continue to enjoy my leisurely read.

Richard II by William Shakespeare - I'm rereading this and taking it an act a day because I'm making notes. I'll actually finish it tomorrow, but I'm not counting it as read.

The Book of Lost Tales Part Two by J.R.R. Tolkien - another leisurely read because it's so dense and, like Shakespeare, I'm making notes when I feel inclined. I also really struggled to get through the section on The Tale of Tinuviel... (I don't like ANY of the prose versions of Beren and Luthien? It needs to be in verse for me to get into it 🤷‍♀️) But now I've got through that opening section I'm enjoying this a lot more.

Charles I and the People of England by David Cressy - my current non-fiction tome. I'm having a great time with this, but it was going to be a winner considering my unreasonable love for Charles I!

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke - I have no idea how I ended up in the middle of this but I'm enjoying it well enough that I'm going to continue (although I think I prefer Piranesi?)

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dotthings · 1 month

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Some thoughts I've been having, after seeing some of the commentary about Jedi during Ahsoka, TBB, and with the promotion for The Acolyte starting, and the tumblr meta fighting between people who just want to wholly blame the Jedi and people who can't handle any criticism of the Jedi order.

I'm a fan of the Jedi and love Jedi characters and culture, I'm also fascinated by the Star Wars universe's ongoing self-critical examination of the Jedi. These two things are not mutually exclusive.

Watching The Acolyte trailer, I felt emotional about seeing the Jedi culture at its height, and also curious about how we'll see the flaws and vulnerabilities, and the beginnings of the Sith exploiting those vulnerabilities.

It's not about bashing the Jedi or blaming the Jedi to me, and at the same time, I've seen so much lately where you can't say anything critical about the Jedi order, or anything that examines the Jedi order critically, or it's considered "anti-Jedi." Meanwhile George Lucas and the SW universe has always been examining the Jedi order. The prequel trilogy is not a glorification of the Jedi, or a romanticization.

If you think a critical eye on the Jedi is a "post-Lucas" invention and ruining Star Wars...you have missed the point, starting with George Lucas era.

Sure, Jedi are good, and we love those characters, and they're good characters. But a mindset keeps showing up in Star Wars fandom in some areas that doesn't seem to understand that a systemic body being for good doesn't mean it can't be systemically flawed, or it cannot do some harm. A systemic structures such as the Jedi order can do harm no matter the good intentions. The existence of a greater evil out there, the existence of worse options, makes it even more important to be self-aware. The worst will exploit every vulnerability, every weakness, every flaw, every opening and it will prey on people's feelings about it. (This post has implications far outside an SF fictional universe, in case that wasn't obvious).

I'm sorry if there are people who take a hard line hating the Jedi. They've missed the point too. But the "pro Jedi" end also makes an environment where it's almost impossible to have real discussion, too.

#dot trolls fandom

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kimyoonmiauthor · 3 months

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36 Dramatic Situations by Georges Polti (1895)

Free version found here:

The outline on Wikipedia is wrong. (no big surprise there) Not once did Polti argue for conflict. He does not use the term. He looks at these as situations. We've covered conflict language at length.

Things of note (for me, so read it on your own):

This is during the French Third Regime (His president while he was publishing this is Jean Casimir-Perier) during stable democracy. You can feel it in the work oddly enough as he celebrates Polish and French freedom sticking it to Gustav Freytag who called French Theater inferior. (Believe me, Gustav Freytag spent long, long chapters on this. Unhinged chapters.) It is really hard to name someone not German that Gustav Freytag didn't hate as a contemporary... but he really did hate French theater a lot, so I don't blame Polti. BTW, this is near to his introduction.

I can feel him pushing back on Gustav Freytag a bit because he mentions Polish people, French, Chinese, and goes to great lengths to defend Hindus (Indians of the time--remember Indian history with British occupation.) He also names English plays that Freytag would have known. Of course Shakespeare and Greek plays as well. All groups that Gustav Freytag went out of his way to say were inferior to Wagner's Opera, going on and on about Shakespeare and Aristotle. Gustav Freytag isn't mentioned, but the odd admixture kinda of argues to me, that he wanted to try to say no to Freytag. This is before WWI, so maybe said a bit early to boast, but also ahead of his time. Thumbing his nose about Polish and French freedom feels like indirect confrontation with Freytag, especially when he goes out of his way to not argue for superiority or inferiority. AND he definitely knows German and makes several broad statements to that effect, naming German plays as well. It's not likely he missed Freytag.

This is AFTER the advent of Francis Boaz, the social scientist who went to create Anthropology--you can feel his influence when Polti tries (maybe in vain a little) to do some cultural relativism, which is kind of refreshing to be honest. Does he do it well? Ummmm... not really. But I give him the effort. I should note here, that a lot of Early anthropology theoretical work was in France.

He DOES list Chinese plays and tries his best to be international, but mostly lands on France and Italy. The Chinese plays he lists, I can't find, though, so I might have to ask some Chinese people for help on that.

The Avenging of a Slain Parent or Ancestor:–"The Singer," an anonymous Chinese drama; "The Tunic Confronted" (of the courtesan Tchang-koue-pin). I want to know which these are. And what the original Chinese names are.

Some of the reasons why he did it was because he thought it might boost? creativity. He even says he can hear your cries about limiting creativity, but energetically says that's not his purpose. He wants to have some organization, not put down the budding creativity of the time between various movements of writing, such as naturalism, etc. (I cover that elsewhere, Early 19th century story drivers, etc are fascinating).

19th century France was still considered a hotbed of cultural influences and ideas. Works from all over were being translated into French. (This is something that Lit professors go over a lot, and you get this from Art History as well... but this is easy to find) Modernism and other cultural ideas flourished. So when he references all of these different cultural texts, it's because people all over the world--Korea, China, Japan, Germany, English, etc often did go to France. And France also benefited.

He does use the word Denouement, but it's not used in the same way as the later usage. I think the translation might be a bit faulty, but I think he means mounting plot (nouement, according to some) and then the Denouement (dismount) is the deescalation of the tension.

He does abuse Aristotle by making a thesis, and then not backing his thesis. Can we stop doing this? No? Never?

Can I get a quote from Poetics please? He did argue for simplicity. That it should be long, simple and easy to remember. No subplots. But the overstatemets after that I'm not quite sure about.

The majority of his story theory and the reasons why he did it are at the end. Read the conclusion will help more than the categorization.

He never cites the work that he took it from, beyond one name TT Cue me crying in a corner as I blind stab and try to find the original source and hope that it has a translation. He cited Carlo Gozzi. Of which only five of the ten plays quoted are translated as theoretical works.

Later people who cite him use him for structuralism purposes, but if you read his treaties carefully, he's not quite pro structuralism because that doesn't come as a thought pattern until later (early 20th century). He's not arguing for structure or for a particular story theory--he likes the diversity actually and goes to great lengths to state so before, during and after his treaties. He wants the pluralism, but he wants organization too.

He actually cites people knowing they are of other races than white and bends over backwards to try to do it. Not always well, but you can feel his intentions are good, so you can't hate him for the effort. (Keep in mind this is before the big push on sociology and Anthropology, so he's kind of ahead of the curve.)

There is some sexism in it... but I'm willing to give a pass since he doesn't really disparage women as writers directly like some of the other authors on this list. And he's willing to paint men as just as bad as the women in his scenarios to fill out the lot. Victim of his times might apply here, since it's late 19th century and there was the "damsel in distress" type of plot prevalent at the time.

If I were to rank, he's not the worst of the lot. But his energetic enthusiasm, even when wrong spills over onto the page. He really does think he's doing the world a favor, but not in a holier-than-thou way so I can't quite hate him for it. Brecht is still the most fun to read Followed by Selden Lincoln Whitcomb, who really did know what he was doing with his pluralities. And then maybe I'd put this one third for the semi- (proto)-structuralists.

Let's be honest, Percy Lubbock is kinda oppressive to read because he's so convinced of his self-worth and that he has a horrible solution to a problem he should not see with literary discourse. And as much as I like EM Forster pushing back on Lubbock, some of his story theory ideas don't hold water well. (Forster isn't a structuralist though).

So yeah... Not the best to read and entertaining, but you can't quite hate him, even if his exact information is a bit off...? Ya know. But still some of his information is off, so you can't quite reward him. It's like the eager student who means well when they raise their hand, but somehow are only 80% correct. What do you do with them?

Anyway, you can see him in time and space with this contextualization, I hope. I have 3 good candidates for the Antigone diagram. If it's who I think it is, then we have a super awesome figure to cover.

#Polti #Georges Polti #story theory

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