#historically accurate heroines

[artist-ellen]

Whatever could I be reposting these for? I guess you’ll just have to wait and see…

I would say it’s weird to look at the gap in years from there to here but 2022 was pretty fiercely dedicated to the Game of Thrones redesigns. Well, I guess there was also modern Belle…. But the Tale as Old as Time dress is the one that matters in reposting so… that’s the only hint you’ll get!

I am the artist! Do not post without permission & credit! Thank you! Come visit me over on: instagram.com/ellenartistic or tiktok: @ellenartistic

#beauty and the beast #redesigning disney princesses #redesigning heroines #ellenart #character design #costume design #digital illustration #historically inspired #historically inspired disney princesses #historically accurate disney #redesigning belle #the great belle redesign #belle #historical fashion

[suburbanbeatnik]

Happy Fourth of July! Here's to red, white and blue (frocks)

#illustration #art #esmeralda #the hunchback of notre dame #regency #regency era #elsa #disney elsa #frozen #disney heroines #historically accurate disney

[mermaidsirennikita]

People who complain about historical romances not being historical enough are my 12th reason and people who then recommend Georgette Heyer as an accurate historical option are my 13th.

#romance novel blogging #‘this book isn’t historical enough because the heroine didn’t lie back and cry #here as a good accurate take read this book by the 1950s anti-semite OR this book about the hot young duke’ #lol gimme a break

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Mr. Gaiman, 

I am working on a research paper about your short story “Snow, Glass, Apples”. For the class, we have to compare a traditional tale (in this case the Grimm’s Snow White) and a variation of that tale (“Snow, Glass Apples”). Obviously, the original tale has the Queen as a much more sinister and narcissistic character. She does many things that are stereotypically evil and witchy. In your rendition, she is not only a better human being but her witchy practices are more closely aligned with historically accurate witches. What inspired you to take a less stigmatized approach to the Queen? 

Because the whole story depends on upending the story and making Snow White the villain and the Queen the heroine. If that didn't work there wouldn't be a story.

#snow glass apples

[backflipstowardstheroot]

I think an important thing to remember when discussing how fate handles its servant designs is that fate as a series was not created to be "a franchise about historical and mythological figures". The servants were simply a tool used to tell the story of fate stay night. It just so happened to be that the servants became the most popular part and so later on with other installments that became the focus. The identities of the mythological figures themselves are not even that important in fate stay night. Really only saber's story gets much attention because she's a main heroine. What I'm saying here is that fate never intended to try and be a historically/mythologically accurate portrayal. Understandably if people get into fate because of their interests of history/mythology they're likely to be disappointed. What fate ACTUALLY does is use myths as inspiration, changing and combining them to make something new, which is actually pretty similar to how many of these myths came about in the first place. It's important to keep in mind that fate is a type-moon work first and a story about historical figures second

#fgo #fate grand order #fate stay night

[ckret2]

Chapter 31 of human Bill grudgingly enduring being the Pines' prisoner because the Henchmaniacs won't take his call: Summerween night! Everyone gets ridiculous costumes!

The Summerween Trickster's buddies are attempting to resurrect him. Robbie's making a music video. Bill's attempting to woo Ford back into friendship, to terrify Dipper with cursed knowledge, and to recover his dignity from THE most gentle chastising imaginable, and he only succeeds in 1 out of 3 of these endeavors:

It's not this one. He's just gotta process these emotions while wearing that stupid wig.

####

Soos was putting the final touches on his cosplay (the suave and mysterious Masked Guy In A Suit, love interest of the heroine from the classic anime Teenage Planetary Soldier Girls) when he heard the phone ring in the office. "Hold on, I'll get it!" He hurried downstairs, ducked under a construction paper chain Mabel had strung over the door, picked up the phone, and said, "Hello?"

A mysterious voice droned, "The sun sets a deep blood red."

"Oh, no thanks, we don't want any." Soos hung up, sighed happily, and said, "Ah, Summerween. Always brings out the weirdos."

"Hey Soos!" Mabel ducked into the doorway. "Where's the candy bowl?"

"Oh, hey Hambone. It's in my bedroom." He put on a stage whisper. "I put it in there so Bill couldn't steal it."

"Thanks Soos!" She ran upstairs.

Dipper and Bill waited downstairs, the tension thick between them (on Dipper's side, anyway; Bill—watching a black-and-white horror movie, sipping at a can of cider, and brooding over going to voicemail—didn't notice). Dipper was waiting by the door in a folding chair; but he kept glancing toward Bill in the living room. When the silence got too much to bear, he asked, "Okay, what are you dressed as?"

Bill was wearing a brown bedsheet toga (the most historically-accurate part of his costume); a cheap wig of a teased mullet that had ended up mostly red with yellow streaks, forming a plume of hair right over his head and then a long straight tail he'd draped over his shoulder; and a bunch of paper faux-Greek homes taped all around the hem of his toga, forming a ring around his calves.

"And are those my sandals?" Dipper asked.

"Take it up with Mabel, she loaned them on your behalf," Bill said. "I'm not telling my costume. You have to guess it."

"Seriously?" Dipper sighed. It had to be a god, gods towered over their mortals' temples. What god would wear brown? "I don't know—Demeter?"

"What? No. Do I seem like the Demeter type? Pathetic." Bill waved off his guess. As Mabel ran downstairs, Bill said, "Hey, Shooting Star, you haven't made your official guess yet."

Without hesitation, Mabel said, "A time-traveling hair metal singer touring the Roman Empire and trying to find a way home before his hair dye runs out."

"Wrong, but I would love to live in the world you've dreamed up." He meandered into the entryway to join Mabel as she plopped down in the second chair by the door.

Dipper screwed up his face. "Are you helping us answer the door?"

"No, you're helping me answer the door. I'm cursed, remember?" Bill leaned over Mabel's shoulder, dug into the candy bowl, and popped a lollipop in his mouth. "But you're not getting rid of me, if that's what you're asking."

Soos headed to the door, cape billowing dramatically behind him. "Hey dudes. Hey Bill." He paused in the door, studying Bill. "Hey! Is that a Bobo the Uncouth Berserker cosplay?"

Bill blinked. "Who?"

"Bobo the Uncouth Berserker! You've gotta read Bobo. He's this primitive hero descended from lost Lemuria who goes on daring adventures through the lush impenetrable jungles of Central Europe. He's got this comic that was so popular it spawned an anime, which got an American movie adaptation, which formed the basis of a second comic continuity that isn't as critically acclaimed as the original but has drawn in a lot of new fans... and..." Soos petered out. "You're not Bobo, are you."

Bill shook his head. "Thanks for playing."

"Aw." Soos's shoulders slumped. "Anyway—me and Melody are gonna be at the cosplay contest at the theater. I'll keep my phone on in case of monsters."

"We'll be fine!" Mabel said. "Go have fun!"

"You too!" With a dramatic flourish of his cape, Soos disappeared into the night.

Bill watched Soos go enviously. He could have been given a human body that looked that good in a suit and top hat, but was he? No. It wasn't fair. And Soos didn't even wear the right hat size.

Dipper glanced sideways at Bill. "Hey. Is... Lemuria real?"

"Not anymore." Bill perked up as Stan passed by, dressed like Frankenstein's monster. "Hey, Stanley! You haven't guessed yet. What am I?"

Stan surveyed him. "White columned buildings, Statue of Liberty dress, and a red clown wig. I dunno, the American government?"

Bill squawked in laughter. "That's my favorite wrong answer so far. I like you, Stanley." He fished a chocolate bar out of the bowl and held it out.

Stan grunted in disapproval, but accepted the candy. "If any of you need me, I'm gonna be up on the roof, terrifying kids." He held up a boombox and a cassette that said "Spooky Sound Effects of Halloween". "If you hear screaming children, don't worry: that means I'm winning."

"Where's your brother?" Bill asked.

"Avoiding you." Stan passed through the living room and left.

Bill's shoulders slumped; but he just dug into the candy bowl for more chocolate. Then the first trick-or-treater knocked on the door, and Dipper jumped up in relief to answer it.

The shack didn't attract quite as many trick-or-treaters as the houses closer to the center of town, but they got a steady stream of children, and more than they'd gotten the year before. Between visitors, Bill dug into their candy stock, gleefully ignoring Dipper's complaints. After the fourth or fifth visitor, Dipper and Mabel realized that Bill was covering up the amount of candy he'd pilfered by meticulously re-folding the empty wrappers and putting them back in the bowl.

"It's fair play," Bill said. He untwisted one end of a Twisty Roll tube, squeezed out the candy, blew into the wrapper to re-inflate it, and twisted the end shut again. "The kids are trick-or-treating, right? Sometimes they get treats and sometimes they get tricks."

"Come on, seriously?" Dipper said. "Even for you this is low. You're literally taking candy from babies."

"The babies are trying to take candy from us. I have no sympathy." With the precision of an origami master, Bill refolded a paper fruit chew wrapper into a box and dropped it back into the bowl.

"They're supposed to take candy from us, that's how the holiday works." Dipper looked at Mabel for support.

But she was holding up an empty 3 Fencers wrapper and squeezing it lightly between her fingers. "Wow. How did you make the wrapper puffy again? It's so convincing."

Bill shot Dipper a nasty smile, then turned to Mabel and said magnanimously, "I'll teach you everything I know." He twirled a glue stick between his fingers.

Another trick-or-treater knocked, and Dipper answered.

"Trick or treat! Please give us the worst candy you have."

Mabel blinked, leaning around Dipper to see who was outside. "Wait, what?"

Outside stood a purple-furred monster with a dozen limbs from a dozen different creatures. He gasped in surprise. "Ohhh, twin costumes! That's so cute! What are you two, haunted dolls?"

Dipper took a surprised step back. "Limby Jimmy?"

The monster was silent a moment, taken aback. He took off a bear mask he'd made out of a paper plate. "Is it that obvious?"

Mabel asked, "Have we...?"

Dipper said, "Oh! Sorry—Mabel, this is Limby Jimmy, I ran into him last year in the Crawlspace under town when I was trying to get your face back—"

Helpfully, Bill threw in, "He's Gravity Falls' most accomplished arms dealer. And legs dealer, and tails dealer, and ears dealer..."

"Limby, this is my sister Mabel. Actually, I don't know if I ever introduced myself—"

Limby Jimmy cut in, "Ohhh, yeah, I remember you! You're Troll Boy, right?"

Dipper winced. "It's—it's Dipper, actually." He paused. "Wow. We meet a lot of weird people."

"Nice to meet you, Jimmy!" Mabel held out a hand. After a moment of thought, Jimmy elected to shake it with a tentacle and a dog's paw.

"What are you doing up here?" Dipper asked. "Is Summerween the one night of the year that Gravity Falls' monsters can walk among humans without fear?"

"Oh no, I'm terrified. I wouldn't be out here if I wasn't collecting donations," Jimmy said.

"Donations?"

Jimmy hesitated, then lowered his voice. "You've been in the Crawlspace, so, you and your sister are cool, but is the lady...?" He wiggled a hoof toward Bill.

Coolly, Bill said, "I'm actually an ancient interdimensional energy being cursed to wear a human form."

Dipper and Mabel flinched in alarm and rounded on Bill, hissing, "Bill!" "Shhh!"

Ignoring them, Bill said, "So, continue."

"Oh," Jimmy said brightly. "That's all right then, yuk yuk." He wiggled his multitude of right arms. "I don't know if you humans have heard yet, but the Summerween Trickster got eaten to death last summer! It's really sad!"

Dipper and Mabel, who had watched as he was eaten to death, stayed quiet.

"But probably happy for him?" Jimmy mused. "Since I think that's what he wanted? But it's sad for the rest of his poker group, we all miss him! So I'm out here with Doug—"

"Who?" Dipper asked, looking around the porch for a second monster.

"Oh, he's back there." Jimmy pointed toward a tree at the edge of the clearing around the Mystery Shack. The tree chittered unnervingly. "We're going around collecting donations to resurrect the Trickster! Or... re-summon him? Or however this works. We never really asked him how he came to exist, it seemed rude."

"Naturally," Bill said. "You can't just ask a freak what made him so freaky. It's a sensitive topic."

"Right! You understand," Jimmy said. "Anyway, we need a lot of crappy candy!" He looked at their bowl. "Which pieces have the kids been ignoring this year?"

Mabel had started bouncing on the balls of her dusty Victorian ghost shoes; and the moment she had a turn to speak, she squealed in excitement. "You're the Summerween Trickster's friend! That's perfect! Stay here, I'll be right back!" She shoved the candy bowl into Bill's arms and zoomed up the stairs. "I've got some stuff for him!"

Bill looked at the bowl, looked at the stairs, shoved the candy in Dipper's arms, and followed Mabel. "Hey, Shooting Star? What are you doing?"

Her voice drifted down the stairs: "Getting a donation! I'll be just a minute!"

"Hold on, you're actually helping that guy?" Bill laughed. "Why?" He climbed high enough to poke his head above the attic floor  and lowered his voice so Jimmy couldn't hear. "I wasn't paying that much attention last Summerween, but I got the impression from your little costume store brawl that the Trickster was trying to kill you kids. Am I missing something?"

"I mean, yeah, he was—but he was in a really bad place back then, that doesn't mean he deserves to be dead for it. And now he knows someone out there wants to eat him, so maybe he'll be less insecure and evil." Mabel laughed, "Anyway, the Trickster isn't that bad! He didn't try to kill me half as hard as you did!"

Bill froze a couple of steps from the top of the stairs. He didn't move for a few seconds; and then wordlessly, he slunk back downstairs.

Dipper watched as Bill, face beet red, trudged into the living room. "Hey. What's Mabel...?"

"How should I know." Bill curled up on the couch, picked up the can of cider he'd been drinking earlier, shotgunned it, and glowered at the horror movie on TV.

Dipper considered Bill—all alone in the living room and not doing anything important—and considered Mabel, upstairs; and said, "Hey, Jimmy. Do you mind waiting out here until Mabel gets back."

"Sure! I don't have any plans." Jimmy rocked back on his many heels.

"Cool. Thanks." Dipper shut the door.

He sidled oh so very casually into the living room and leaned against the TV. "Guess it's just the two of us right now."

Bill's gaze didn't waver from the TV. "Terrific counting skills, Troll Boy." He popped open another cider can.

Dipper grit his teeth. Let it go. "Sooo! You're from the second dimension, huh? What's that like?" (His voice cracked embarrassingly on "that.") "Just—just curious. Making friendly conversation. Caaasual conversation." He flashed a pair of finger guns at Bill, to underscore just how casual he was. "Yyyep." Witness the junior paranormal investigator in action.

Bill turned the cold, empty eyes of a killer on Dipper. He took a long, slow sip from his cider. And he asked himself: what can I say that will make this stupid boy regret ever daring to speak to me?

Bill smiled. "Yeah. Sure. Okay," he said. "You wanna know what it's like? Have you ever read the Allegory of the Cave?"

Dipper hesitated. "By... Plato?"

"That one. You know—ignorance is like being a prisoner chained in a cave, watching shadow puppets being cast on a wall, and thinking they're reality; and having knowledge is like being outside the cave in the sunlight, seeing the real shapes that are casting the shadows—"

"I have read it, actually," Dipper said, a tad defensively. "It was for extra credit in—"

"English class, I know."

Dipper frowned; but he soldiered on. "So... living in the second dimension is like being chained in a cave, staring at the shadows on the wall, and thinking that's reality? Bleak."

Bill laughed so loudly that Dipper started. "Wow, you're so dumb! Use your brain, kid: it's the second dimension. You're not the prisoner: you're the shadow on the wall." Bill's lip curled in a sneer, "An illusion in somebody else's allegory. And the only one who can see the cave's exit... is you. That's what the second dimension is like!" He laughed again. It sounded forced.

"Oh," Dipper mumbled. He tried to wrap his head around the idea of being a living metaphor for ignorance. "Sounds... pretty bad?"

"Awful," Bill agreed. "Doesn't hold a candle to what your dimension has going on, though."

"Wh... why, what's going on in the third dimension?"

Bill gave him a malicious smile, and Dipper had the sinking feeling he'd just walked into an obvious trap. "You idiot, you still think you're in the third dimension? Really?"

Was that a trick question? What answer was Bill looking for? What could this be if not the third dimension? "Nnooo?"

"Wow. I can really see why you're a straight-A's honors student," Bill said. "You're so good at figuring out what answer the test wants and regurgitating it—even if you don't actually understand it at all." He heaved himself back to his feet; and Dipper was sure there was something threatening in the movement—something that reminded Dipper that he was talking to a dangerously unstable extinction level event precariously packed into an unsteady human body. "Although copying the year of the Louisiana Purchase off of Brandon's test in fifth grade  probably didn't hurt, did it."

Dipper's stomach dropped. The secret shame buried beneath the foundation of his honors roll-worthy record. Pull that out and his entire academic career came toppling down. He'd get kicked out of the honors classes. He'd go to jail. Was cheating against the law? "H... how did—?"

"What year was the Louisiana Purchase?"

Dipper's brain immediately went blank. He was silent, trapped in the paralyzing intensity of Bill's gaze. After several terrifying seconds, he croaked, "1803?" and hoped he was right.

"Attaboy. Too bad you couldn't have learned that a little sooner, isn't it?" As he spoke, Bill had closed in on Dipper until he'd backed him into the corner behind the TV set, filling Dipper's exit route with one hand on the TV and the other on the wall. "But we were talking about dimensions, weren't we! Whaddaya like to read, kid," Bill asked too casually, "do you like cosmic horror? Do you know what real 'cosmic horror' is?"

Dipper regretted this conversation completely.

"It's having an eyeball on the inside of your body, and seeing another dimension through it. And ohoho, I think you'd be amazed at the things I can see from here—"

Dipper got the distinct impression that if he didn't get out of this conversation, he would only hear things he'd be telling his therapist about for months. "Cool! Good talk, man. Hey Mabel?" (That was an absolutely humiliating voice crack.) "How's it going?"

A pause. "I think I need help!"

"Coming!" Dipper ran behind the TV to escape Bill and gratefully bolted upstairs.

The kid had caved so fast. And Bill had only just been getting started. He smirked, sat, and turned back to the movie.

A moment later, Mabel and Dipper came back downstairs, carrying four bulging plastic grocery bags. Mabel set one by her feet, opened the door, and shoved the first bag into Jimmy's arms. "Here! You can give these to the Trickster!" She shoved over the second bag.

Jimmy stumbled back under the weight. "Whoa there! What is this?"

"Candy chalk-hearts! I completely bought out the leftovers after Valentine's Day," Mabel said. "I wanted to make sure that if we met the Trickster again, I could let him know he's loved and appreciated as the terrifying avatar of spooky holiday spirit that he is! And that I also respect that he's made out of gross candy nobody likes to eat." She picked up a chalk-heart box and waved it in Jimmy's face. "So here's a gross candy that expresses love! See, the little hearts say things like 'You smell nice' and 'I heart ur face,' but they taste like if dehydration was a flavor."

Dipper handed his bags to Jimmy. "Wait—Mabel, that's why you got all these? You've been planning to help the Trickster since February? I thought you were gonna build a chalk-heart house or something."

"Oooh, that's such a good idea. I should do that next year!" To Jimmy, she said, "I was gonna give these to him personally, but if he's still dead, I guess you can add it to his candy sacrifice pile or whatever? And make sure he gets this!" She handed Jimmy a store bought Shimmery Twinkleheart Valentine's card. It read, "I BELIEVE in our friendship! Happy Valentine's Day!" Mabel had scratched out "Valentine's" and written "Summerween".

Choked up, Jimmy said, "Oh—wow. That's the nicest thing anyone's done for us all night. I'm sure the Trickster will really appreciate it when he's not dead anymore."

Dipper was a little more vengeful. Dipper didn't want to do anything for one of the many guys that had tried to kill them last year. But, on the other hand, Mabel had just gone all in on this, and Jimmy seemed nice enough, so... Dipper sighed. Whatever, it was Summerween and this was a trick-or-treater. "Hey," he picked up the candy bowl. "There's really only one bag of good candy in here. The bottom of the bowl is filled with after-dinner mints our great uncle's been stealing from restaurants for the last six months. The Trickster would probably love that, right?"

"Aww—thanks so much, you guys! We'll have the poker group back together in no time!" Jimmy dug past the good candy and started scooping mints into his bag. "Oh—since I'm here, can I ask about our other poker buddy? Do either of you know Mr. What's-His-Face? He disappeared around the time you were visiting the Crawlspace, maybe one of you saw something? Any information would be helpful." Jimmy looked at them with weird, plus-shaped, but very hopeful eyes. "Between the Trickster's death and Whatsis disappearing, the local paranormal community's been hit hard. Especially us guys in their friend group. I'm—I'm not gonna lie," Jimmy heaved a sigh, "It's been a really hard year."

Dipper and Mabel, who were directly and personally at fault for Mr. What's-His-Face's disappearance and knew he was frozen in stasis in Ford's bunker at that very moment, exchanged a look and came to a silent agreement.

"Nope, don't know anything," Mabel said.

"Sorry, buddy," Dipper said.

Like the Summerween Trickster, Mr. What's-His-Face was a weird faceless shapeshifty monster that had tried to kill them. But they felt like that was where the similarities ended.

By the time of the Trickster's death, Mabel and Dipper had realized that his deepest inner longing was to be called good enough to eat. Mr. What's-His-Face's deepest inner longing was to steal innocent people's faces. If Mabel and Dipper helped resurrect the Trickster, he'd probably go back to ensuring everyone displayed sufficient holiday spirit, while hopefully mellowing out about eating people now that he'd been consumed once. On the other hand, if Mabel and Dipper helped free Mr. What's-His-Face, he'd probably just keep stealing faces.

And on top of all that, they could help resurrect the Trickster without admitting they knew the guy who ate him. They couldn't really lead Jimmy to Mr. What's-His-Face without admitting their great uncle was keeping him captive. And that would be a problem for the whole family.

"Oh," Jimmy said. "Okay, that's fine. Thanks for all your help. You know where to reach us if you hear anything."

Mabel shook her head. Dipper nodded. "Yeah, we'll let you know."

Jimmy hopped off the porch, shouted, "Hey Doug, can you help me carry these?" and chucked a couple of bags of chalk-hearts toward the tree line. Dipper and Mabel stared. Nothing emerged to pick the bags up.

They shut the door.

"Man," Dipper said. "We kinda devastated the paranormal poker group last summer, didn't we?"

"Yeah." Mabel sucked in a breath between her teeth. "Wow. Feels... kinda bad."

Dipper offered her the candy bowl. "Drown our feelings in chocolate?"

"Please."

They grabbed a piece of candy each, tore open the wrappers—and frowned. Mabel stomped a foot. "Dang it—Bill!"

"Hm?"

"How many of these wrappers are empty?!"

Bill poked his head out of the living room and said, smugly, "Like candy from a baby!"

####

A knock, and Dipper opened the door. "Wendy! Hey! Good timing—"

"Hey." Wendy lowered her voice. "Quick question—this is super important—is Goldie here?"

"Uh—yeah, why—?"

"Yello?" Bill carefully wove his way out of the living room, already less steady on his feet than when he'd sat down. "I heard my name, who's summoning me?"

Wendy pointed over the twins at Bill and turned to shout into the dark, "Ladies and gentlemen! I present to you! Live and in person... Toga Lady!"

A half dozen teenagers immediately went bananas. Hooting and hollering and cheering and whistling: "To-ga! To-ga! To-ga!"

Bill's entire face lit up. Without missing a beat, he pushed past the baffled twins out onto the porch and spread his arms wide, basking in the cheering. "That's right, keep it coming! Worship me! I'm the greatest!"

"Yes!" Robbie pumped a fist in the air. "The legends were true!" Nate immediately added, "The prophecy! The prophecy!" Tambry snapped photos of Toga Lady's fresh look as fast as her phone could save them, muttering, "Everyone's gonna flip when they find out you're still in town."

Wendy waited, grinning, until her friends' faux hysterics had died down. "Okay—okay, after getting you hyped up, I should probably say that Toga Lady is actually Toga Guy." She glanced questioningly at Bill. "I think?"

"Eh, I'm not picky."

"Anyway this is Goldie, he was stuck in another dimension for thirty years, it's crazy, and now he's like my illegal backup cashier. He actually... doesn't usually wear togas?"

Bill laughed. "If you can't wear a bedsheet on Summerween, when can you?"

Lee said, "Thompson wore a bedsheet to homecoming."

"Hey."

Bill pointed at Thompson. "A man of impeccable fashion! I like it!" Thompson gave him a look of eternal gratitude.

"And Goldie, this is the gang! That's Thompson, he's the guy with the van; Robbie and Tambry, they're like, gender-swapped versions of each other, they even share their hair dye..."

As Wendy did introductions, Mabel whispered to Dipper, "Did you know she was gonna introduce Goldie to everyone?"

"No! This is bad, I told her not to trust him..."

Bill was responding to a question, "No, no, you've gotta guess, I'm making everyone guess!"

The teens considered the question. Robbie offered first, "Punk caveman?"

"Nope!"

Hesitantly, Thompson tried, "Nero fiddling over the burning of Rome?" He winced when Lee laughed.

"I like where your head's at, but no! I can't fiddle."

"The gremlin king from Huge Maze?" Tambry said.

Mabel piped up, "No, but the wig came from a gremlin king costume and I appreciate you for recognizing that!" Tambry nodded in cool approval.

Bill dispensed of Lee, Nate, and Wendy's guesses—Greek Christmas tree, that one guy who keeps painting burning banks, and hair metal Hades—before Robbie loudly cleared his throat to cut in. "Anyway, would love to stay and chat, but we've gotta move if we wanna be in position before sunset. Dipper, Mabel, you ready?"

"Ready to ghost it up!" Mabel said, squeezing around Bill with Dipper onto the porch.

Robbie surveyed their makeup—deathly white skin, ashen grey lips, and dark circles around their eye sockets. "Yeah, that's pretty good. Could use a little color, maybe. Like bloody tears?" He turned toward Tambry.

She said, "I think I've got some red eyeliner."

"'In position'?" Bill asked, giving Dipper and Mabel a questioning look.

Wendy said, "We're helping Robbie film this music video tonight."

"We're the creepy ghost twins!" Mabel announced proudly. "We get to sing the chorus."

Robbie said, "Yeah, the song's about childhood and growing up, but like, with ghosts? Because once you've grown up, your childhood is all dead? It's metal, but introspective. I'm calling the genre 'intrometal.'" He flipped his bangs dramatically. "It's a super deep song. Metaphorical layers."

"Oh yeah?" Bill stared Robbie down. "Sing some of it."

Robbie blinked. "Oh. Yeah, okay uh, I haven't warmed up my voice but, the hook is like—" He pantomimed playing a guitar and whisper-screamed, "'BABY DOLLS! BASKET BALLS! BASKET CASE! HUMAN RACE!' Like that."

Bill nodded slowly, face expressionless. "Ah, yeah, I see. Really deep stuff. Makes you think."

"Thanks." Robbie looked at Dipper and Mabel. "Anyway, if we're gonna get any footage in the graveyard before the jack-o'-melons start burning out, we've gotta move. Let's go, Creepy Ghost Twins."

"Wait, you're going out?" Bill asked Mabel. "Like out-out? Leaving me here? By myself? On Summerween?"

"Wh—yeah, we're only handing out candy for half the night," Mabel said. "I told you that."

"No you didn't!"

"Yes I did!"

"When?"

Mabel thought. "No I didn't," she admitted. "Sorry!"

Wendy punched Bill's arm. "Sorry to steal them. We'll be back in a couple of hours," she said. "Or you could come help—?"

"No!" Dipper and Mabel both shoved Bill back into the house before he could accept. Dipper said, "You've gotta—guard the house." Mabel added, "And hand out candy!"

"Right," Bill said flatly. "Yes. That. Ha."

"See you later!" Mabel said, and then shut the door in his face.

The last thing he heard was Wendy explaining to her friends, "He's on house arrest for, like, academic plagiarism and war crimes or something..." and then they were gone.

Bill's shoulders slumped. Well, now what? He couldn't celebrate a holiday by himself. What was the point of wearing a costume if no one sees you in it. He picked up a piece of candy, discovered it was one of his decoys, and picked up another. 

Someone knocked on the door.

"Yeah, yeah," Bill sighed. He picked up the candy bowl, turned toward the door, and paused. Ah. Right. What was he supposed to do with this impenetrable portal-blocking slab of wood.

Who was left in the house? Stan on the roof, Ford in the basement, Abuelita probably already in bed... were any of them worth harassing to help him answer the door? Maybe Stan, he'd gotten all dressed up, he liked the holiday even if he didn't like Bill—

The trick-or-treater knocked more insistently.

Or. Or.

He could pick up the bowl, peer out the small window in the door, and make direct eye contact with the children outside while he ate candy.

As a piece of mid-tier chocolate melted on his tongue, he saw three trick-or-treaters' faces fall as their faith in a kind, caring universe died. He grinned at them and ate another chocolate.

Oh yeah. He grabbed the rest of his cider from the living room and set up post next to the door. This would keep him entertained the rest of the night.

####

He made seven small children cry.

####

Stan watched from his post on the roof as yet another sobbing kid ran away from the shack. "HA! Gottem! Sucker!" He affectionately patted his boombox. "Creepy ghoulish laughter, you never disappoint! Terrifying moochers since 1989!" He paused the cassette and rewound it a few seconds to replay the best part.

He heard a scraping sound above him, and looked up just in time to see Ford sliding down the roof to join him. "Oh, hey! I didn't think we'd see you again tonight."

"Mabel made me promise to celebrate Summerween a little."

"Good for her!"

Stan had already claimed the sun lounger, so Ford brushed some dust and leaves off the roof's cooler and sat. "So, what are we doing? Scaring trick-or-treaters?"

"Yep. This year I'm taking a more atmospheric approach." He gestured at his boombox, which by now was playing haunting organ music. "Nothing like screaming zombies and rattling chains from nowhere to freak out the kids."

Ford nodded. "Psychological torment. I approve."

"Not quite as good as getting to see the terror in their eyes, but." Stan shrugged. "Bill was hanging out with the kids. I didn't want to put up with him."

"Mm. There's a reason I was spending the holiday in the basement."

"Heh. Well, there's always Halloween."

They were silent for a moment, listening as the cassette moved on from organ music to werewolf howls. Stan asked, "Think we'll be rid of him by then? I know we were hoping to be done with him before the Fourth of July—but since I haven't heard anything lately, I figure you hit a roadblock."

Ford winced. "Guilty as charged." He was still relearning how to keep other people in the loop. Even Stan. "You're right. I have a weapon that can destroy him, but I can't find a fuel source without restarting the portal. I'm hoping Fiddleford will come up with a solution I haven't."

Stan nodded. Ford had told him he was getting Fiddleford involved; even as reluctant as Ford was to admit how little progress he'd made, he wasn't going to tell someone outside the family about Bill without letting Stan know. "Any breakthroughs on his end?"

####

During the credits between episodes of the retired samurai period drama (most recently, the samurai had been asked to use his sword to help cut flowers for a bouquet), Fiddleford leaned over and whispered to Ford, "So I've been a-lookin' at those blueprints you left me."

"And...?"

"And I've constructicated a power adaptor. Just jimmy out the fuel tank, swap it for the adaptor's cord, and you can power that weapon by pluggin' it into the wall! It'll just drain all the power from the town for a few seconds, that's all."

"Fiddleford, that's amazing—"

"Now, hold on. There's bad news," Fiddleford said. "Try as I might, I can't quite get it to draw enough power to activate those energy-destroying features what you'd need to disintegrate Bill. It'll work like a powerful laser, but nothin' else."

Ford sighed. "It's a starting point, I suppose."

"I'll send you home with the adaptor anyway. Never know when you'll need a big laser."

"Very true. Do you have any promising leads on other alternative fuels?"

Fiddleford shook his head. "It's the NowUSeeitNowUDontium or nothing. But I've got a hunch we could synthesize it under lab conditions. I'll letcha know in a few days."

And then the next episode started, and they dropped the conversation.

####

Ford let out a heavy sigh. "He's only had a partial success so far. But I'm hopeful he's on the right track."

"So, if he's working on this weapon, what are you doing?"

"Waiting, mostly. I don't know what else I can do."

Stan frowned. "What—that's it? You've been downstairs all day every day—if you're not figuring out how to destroy him, what are you doing?"

"Passing time somewhere I can be on call if he gets up to something—but I don't have to look at him," Ford said wryly. "And—as long as I'm waiting to hear back from Fiddleford, I've been... picking apart that list of spells Bill gave me. To see if any of them are tricks or traps."

Stan couldn't say he was surprised. That was his workaholic brother. A pamphlet of demon magic was like catnip to him. If anything, Stan was almost glad Ford had that letter to distract him. Over the past year...

Well, Ford was fine on land—when he temporarily had a mystery to solve, an adventure to pursue, an anomaly to study, a distraction to fill his time—but at sea, when his mind was unoccupied, he was listless. He had books he didn't read, field notes he didn't enter into his journal, games he didn't play. He fed himself and exercised and did chores around the ship like a robot programmed to take care of itself, and he stared out at the sea.

Last summer, Ford hadn't seemed happy but he'd seemed alive. Tired and angry, but alive. But after Weirdmageddon, a light in his eyes went out. Stan didn't know if it was the end of summer, or guilt over the memory gun, or the gap between finishing a thirty-year-long quest and discovering the next one. All Stan knew was the light hadn't come back on until the moment Bill Cipher, clad in a new body and a purple cartoon bedsheet, tried to cave Ford's skull in.

Ever since they were children, Ford had had a tendency to develop obsessions. It was somehow simultaneously both what made him most interesting and what made him boring. Depended on the obsession. But these all-consuming interests had always tended to last a few months, at most a year; and he'd never seemed to be without one, much less for nine months. Stan had no idea what carrying a single obsession for three decades might have done to Ford's mind.

Stan was glad something had woken Ford back up, and he worried that losing that focal point again might leave Ford permanently adrift. But another part of him worried that, this time, Ford wouldn't let the object of his obsession go. He tended to collect things related to his obsessions.

But then, he usually tended to like his obsessions. He hadn't seemed bothered to burn the contents of his creepy Bill shrine last summer. Ford wouldn't do anything stupid, Stan told himself. Ford hated Bill. "So? Were any of the spells traps?"

"Not... so far, no." Ford sounded irritated by this.

Stan shrugged. "Makes sense. He's trying to butter us up. If that idiot thinks being nice to us for a week or two is gonna make up for the years of grief he's given us—"

A loud rattle-clattering below made them both start. Stan sat bolt upright. "What the—?"

Ford inched to the edge of the dormer roof, knelt down, and leaned over the edge just far enough to see the window.

Bill's face was pressed to the glass, eye rolled up toward the roofline. He grinned in surprised delight and shouted through the glass, "HEY, STANFORD! What are you doing up here?! I thought you were downstairs!"

"Ugh." Ford turned to grimace at Stan. "Speak of the devil."

Bill pounded on the glass again. "Hey, Sixer! SIXER! Open the window!"

"Why?"

"I wanna talk!"

"No."

"Come ooon, the kids ditched me and I'm bored! There's no one in the house to talk to! The old lady's asleep and Stanley's on the roof, so—" He abruptly fell silent, squinting with deep suspicion at Ford-who-should-be-in-the-basement kneeling on the-roof-where-Stan-should-be, and said, "Wait. Are you Stanley right now? Show me your hand."

Ford did not. "Go away, Bill." He left the edge of the roof for his cooler seat.

"Get back here!" The pounding redoubled. "I don't care which Stan you are! If you don't wanna talk, I can always go wake up Dolores!"

Ford looked at Stan. "Mrs. Ramirez's name is Dolores?" He had gotten used to everyone calling her Abuelita.

Stan stomped on the roof, "Shaddup!"

Bill did not shaddup. "Come ooon!"

Stan sighed in defeat and heaved himself to his feet. "If he keeps that racket up he's gonna break that window, never mind that hex you put on him." When they'd taken out the original Bill-shaped window, Stan had replaced it with the cheapest window he could find. He didn't think it was very durable. "How much trouble can he get in with one open window twenty feet above the ground and both of us watching him?"

Ford Frowned.

"Don't gimme that look. Do you want to pay for a broken window?" Stan flipped through his keys for his key-shaped emergency lock pick, leaned over the edge of the roof, and wedged the pick into the window frame. The latch popped open. Lucky this window was so cheap, that wouldn't have worked on one with deluxe features like "airtight weatherstripping" or "a properly-fitting frame." Stan swung open the window. "Okay, you have our attention. Now what's the fastest way we can get rid of you?"

Bill clumsily climbed out to sit on the windowsill with his legs in the shack, and leaned back so he could see up onto the roof. "Hiya Fo—" He lost his balance, flailed, and yelped as he toppled backwards.

Stan and Ford lunged forward to seize an arm each. Stan snapped, "What are you doing, you maniac?!"

Bill stared up at them both in wide-eyed amazement. "You do like me."

Stan made a noise of disgust, let go, and wiped his hands on his pants like Bill had cooties.

Ford said, "We like you trapped in that body and not free to cause the apocalypse."

"I heard 'we like you'!"

"Shut up." Ford managed to haul Bill back upright. (Touching Bill felt wrong—all soft flesh and skin and the suggestion of bones underneath. Even when looking right at Bill's human body, Ford still expected him to feel like heavy shadows and heatless flames.) From this close, Bill reeked of cider. "Just how much have you had to drink?"

"Not so much I won't remember whatever you say in the morning, so be nice to me!" Bill laughed. He leaned back, this time hanging by one hand off the window frame to precariously maintain his balance, and grinned up at Ford. "So! The least fun person in the house has finally emerged from his lair? And you didn't even come into the house to join in the Summerween festivities! 'All work and no play'..."

Ford had to crouch at the edge of the roof, hovering nearby in case Bill lost his balance again. "I wanted to participate in Summerween, actually. It just so happens that the last person I'd ever spend a holiday with is in the house."

"Listen, Stanford. I know you're holing up in your study for days on end just to hurt me. But let's be honest, you're hurting yourself more! When's the last time you saw the sunlight! Look at how pale you're getting, you look like a vampire."

Stiffly, Ford said, "It's costume makeup. That's my vampire costume." Stan laughed.

"It what." Bill flipped up his eyepatch and squinted blearily at Ford's face.

Wordlessly, Ford bared his teeth to show off his plastic vampire teeth.

"Oh." Somewhat deflated, Bill said, "Nice work, it's convincing."

"Thanks," Ford said grudgingly. Giving in to his curiosity, he gestured toward Bill's (somewhat disheveled) reddish-yellow wig. "What are you."

"Oh!" Bill perked back up. "You've got to see the whole thing. Hold on—" He turned around in the window, ignoring how Ford half reached for him in case he needed steadying, until he got his legs outside to dangle on the roof. "What do you think!"

Ford looked over the brown toga flared out like a cone, the eruption of red hair, the small paper city below, and said, "Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii? Very clever."

Bill's face lit up. "Finally! You're the first person all day to get it!" He smoothed out the skirt proudly, his jerky gestures just a bit more exaggerated than usual. "Do you know how long I've wanted to go to a costume party as Vesuvius? But nobody off Earth would get it! And now that I'm finally here, I can't go to parties and I'm shaped more like a mandrake than a volcano." He flung up his hands, wobbled, and caught himself before Ford had to intervene. "But at least you got it. I knew I could count on you, IQ."

He sounded so sincerely grateful. Ford regretted calling the costume clever. It was, but Bill didn't need the ego boost.

"Oh! By the by—I didn't think you'd emerge before the day was over, so I saved this." Bill fished around in his toga until he retrieved a mini pack of jelly beans. "Here!"

Ford eyed the pack. "Why is it open?"

"Because you only like the weird-shaped jelly beans, so I ate all the normal beans and saved the weird ones in one bag."

"I don't want this. You touched every one of the beans, that would be disgusting even if they weren't coming from you," Ford said. "Anyway, this is a patently transparent attempt to buy your way into my good favor—"

"It sure is, Ford, and if you don't accept it I'll get to be annoying about your ingratitude for weeks! Is that what you want? You know I'll do it. Everyone will be on my side—"

Ford sighed, but snatched the bag from Bill's hand. "Fine. Now drop it."

"That's more like it!" Bill favored Ford with an approving smile. "Anyway, it's just about the only candy left in the house, I ate everything else—hey, have you ever been cross faded on cider and a sugar rush?"

Ford was still trying to decide whether he wanted to engage in this one-sided conversation enough to ask Bill what "cross faded" meant when Bill moved on without him: "It's—not that interesting, actually. 6 out of 10. Anyway, all that's left in the bowl is mints and wrappers. And Mabel even managed to give most of the mints away—hey, she's so nice, did you know she's helping to resurrect the Summerween Trickster?"

She was doing what? "No. Why?"

"She's so nice."

"You just said that."

"What is she so nice for. What's she getting out of it," Bill asked, more to the universe at large than to Ford. "If more humans were half as nice to freaks as she is, your rotten planet wouldn't need people like you and me to save it."

Ford didn't even know where to begin with that. He looked to Stan for help.

Stan was sitting straddling his lounger, elbow on one knee and chin in his hand, watching this exchange like he was watching a weird bug on the wall try to navigate around a picture frame. At Ford's glance, he rolled his eyes and pantomimed sipping from a drink.

He could say that again. Ford cleared his throat. "Bill, maybe you should..."

"Hey," Bill said. "Great talk, we really should catch up more sometime. And pull your weight next time, I always have to do all the talking. But right now, I'm..." He gestured vaguely off to the side. "I'm gonna lie down and try not to throw up. Ciao!" He swayed as he tried to get back in the window, tumbled backward into the shack, and thudded heavily on the floor. "Ow."

Ford gingerly shut the window.

Stan turned up the boombox. "Chatty drunk, isn't he."

"He's chatty sober, too." But in front of the kids? Neither of them saw Bill as a role model, but they still didn't need to be exposed to that kind of behavior. Especially when the responsible adults were outside or asleep... "Did we really leave Bill alone in the house with the kids?"

"W—I—" Stan shrugged defensively. "They were all right! They can take him! They're doing karate or whatever! You didn't see how Mabel flipped him at the mall! It was like David wrestling Goliath."

"David and Goliath didn't wrestle."

"You know what I mean."

Ford supposed he didn't think Bill was any threat to the children. At least, not right now, and not physically. He felt like he'd know if Bill was about to try anything.

He looked at his open bag of gross felt-up jelly beans. Speaking of trying to butter them up... Ford wound up and chucked the bag as hard as he could.

He stared into the dark after it.

A small part of him was beginning to wonder whether this wasn't all just an attempt to get Ford's guard down. The gifts, sure, that was as clear-cut a case of bribery as you could get. Nothing ambiguous there.

But the endless chatter... Back when Ford had called Bill his Muse, this was exactly how he'd wanted Bill to talk to him. Not in the flighty half-distracted way of a friendly businessman catching up on a work project's progress before hurrying on to the next meeting; but just talking for talking's sake, talking for the company.

Getting what he once had longed for made his skin crawl. And he couldn't even tell if Bill was acting.

The boombox let out a ghastly banshee shriek. Ford and Stan both jumped, then laughed awkwardly.

Ford sat on the cooler again. "Is it just me, or... did Bill completely ignore you as soon as he realized I was up here."

"Well. I wasn't gonna mention it. I didn't wanna sound jealous of the attention. But yeah—he's been doing that since he got here. If you're in the room, he tunes everyone else out."

"I thought it was in my head." And he hadn't wanted to sound like he wanted to imagine Bill was favoring him.

"And you do the same thing around him," Stan said, and laughed at Ford's flinch of alarm. "It's—it's fine, I get it. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? You've got some kind of superhero-supervillain nemesis thing."

Ford got the distinct impression that Stan was offering him a convenient excuse for the tunnel vision. He took it. "I suppose that's true." The way his jaw clenched and his shoulders tensed around Bill certainly felt like a "nemesis" reaction.

But if Stan thought Ford was a bit too preoccupied by Bill... well, maybe he was right. Once Ford had gotten over his initial wave of fear, of despair, of outrage at the injustice, at finding Bill was still alive—there was a part of him that was almost relieved. A part of him that had been on guard against nothing for the past year, twisting around looking for an absent threat. Now that it knew where the threat was, that part of him could finally settle down and watch Bill with steady, certain eyes. Having nothing to worry about made him more anxious than having one thing to always worry about.

(Maybe Shermie's kid had been on to something when he suggested Ford might benefit from therapy.)

Knowing Bill was back didn't put the old starlight and awe back in that hole Bill had left in Ford's chest. But dread could fill a hole all the same.

Ford tried to push Bill out of his mind and the conversation. "You think I'm like a superhero?"

"You run around fighting monsters with a space laser. What else would you be?"

"Huh." Well. That made his night.

"Just as long as you don't pull that 'hero spares the villain to show how good he is' shtick."

"Never." Ford laughed ruefully. "I think I left 'good' behind a few felonies back." He'd probably left "good" behind the night he accepted the portal blueprints.

"Couple stragglers," Stan said, nodding out into the dark. It took Ford a moment to spot the costumed kids and remember it was Summerween. "I recognize those costumes, I scared them off an hour ago. What are they doing back?"

Ford squinted at them. "Are those toilet paper rolls?"

"Wh—Hey! What are you little runts— Hey!" Stan leaped to his feet, shaking his fist at the kids below. "Get away from my car! Stop that! I'll have you know that's a classic— No, not the eggs!"

Ford slid out his freeze ray, turned down the power, and offered it to Stan. "Here. At this power and distance, it'll feel like getting pelted with invisible snowballs."

Stan snatched up the weapon. "Eat this, twerps!"

The Summerween night air was filled with the screams of terrified children and the evil laughter of an old man.

####

Wow. It sure sounded like everybody was having fun. Outside. Without him.

Bill was nauseous.

He stared at the spinning ceiling, flat on his back, one leg on a cushion and the rest of him on the floor. 

Bill was nauseous and alone. The loneliness tore at his throat. Even Mabel had ditched him. Of course she did—he'd tried to kill her. He'd barely even remembered he'd tried to kill her until she brought it up. Had he tried to kill her? No, surely not—he liked the kid, he'd always liked her—he'd been faking to force Ford's hand, he never would have gone through with it. He would've teleported her into another room and pretended he'd disintegrated her. She didn't know he hadn't meant it. She was just mad he'd scared her. She couldn't take a joke.

But, Ford talked to him. Ford even liked his costume. It wasn't much, but it would get Bill through the night.

When he saw Kryptos again—when, not if—he was slicing him into a jigsaw puzzle for not taking Bill's call. The nerve of that guy, hanging up on a human without even waiting a few words to see if they had anything interesting to say. 

(What if it hadn't been an accident, he wondered? What if Kryptos had realized it was Bill and still hung up?)

(No. Of course it was an accident.)

He shut his eyes. He was probably too drunk to dream tonight. Well, he could try again tomorrow. His little lucid dreaming guide was currently teaching him to influence the next night's dream by focusing on a topic before sleep. Maybe tomorrow he could dream about the Nightmare Realm.

He missed home.

####

(Congratulations to the approximately 50% of respondents who correctly figured out Bill's costume when I posted the art on Halloween, you're officially smarter than everybody in Gravity Falls except Ford. This is one of those chapters with a whole lot going on so if you enjoyed, I'd love to hear your comments!!)

#(tbh that's the best Mabel & Dipper I've ever drawn) #bill cipher #human bill cipher #mabel pines #dipper pines #(for both the art & fic) #grunkle ford #grunkle stan #(for just the fic) #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #fanart #bill goldilocks cipher

[writers-potion]

i was wondering if you could give some points and tips on writing about a character who is suffering from DRUG ABUSE

Writing A Drug Addict Character

Know Your Drugs

Was the drug invented? A scene using insulin set in 1820 is problematic since this treatment wasn’t discovered until the 1900s. Fentanyl shouldn’t be used in a 1930s scene since it wasn’t available for use until the 1960s—opium or morphine would be more accurate choices.

Was the method invented? Since insulin must be given as a shot, that scene is even less authentic as the hypodermic needle wasn’t invented until the mid-1800s. Older historical fiction could involve the use of poultices and mustard packs, while skin drug patches (transdermal patches) are only appropriate in more modern scenes.

The most common drugs abused by gangs are: Marijuana, Methamphetamine, Heroin, Cocaine

Or, it can be prescription drugs

Although many medications can be abused, the following three classes are most commonly abused:

Opioids—usually prescribed to treat pain;

Central nervous system (CNS) depressants—used to treat anxiety and sleep disorders; and

Stimulants—most often prescribed to treat attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). (common example? caffeine)

Write In Stages

Stage 1: First Use

Some people use a substance for the first time out of curiosity, while others use substances due to peer pressure. People may also be prescribed medication, such as opioids, by their doctor. Individuals may view their first use as a one-time occurrence, but this opens the door for future use. Some people try a substance one time and never use it again. 

You character will feel:

Angry and/or desperate

Miserable

Lonely

Trying to run away from a certain problem

Persuaded into doing drug

Guilty

Stage 2: Regular Use

If a person uses a substance and enjoys how it makes them feel or believes it will improve their life, they may start to use the substance regularly. They may use drugs or drink alcohol on the weekends while at parties or hanging out with friends. Occasional use may become a regular occurrence. It might become a part of a person’s routine.

Your character:

Will start getting in careless activities while doing drugs

Will probably be violent

Won’t think he has any issue whatsoever and shrug it off

Start associating themselves with harder drug users

Have a false sense of security that they’re able to quit whenever they want.

Stage 3: Risky Use

The next stage after regular use is risky use. A person will continue to use a substance despite the physical, mental, legal or social consequences. Their use likely started as a way to escape or have fun with peers but has now taken priority over other aspects of their life.

Your Character will feel:

uncomfortable around family members/friends who start to notice

Exhibit more reckless behavior

Driving under influence, stealing money to finance substance use, etc.

Underperforming at work or school

Experience tension in personal relationships

Stage 4: Dependence

The next stage is a physical, mental and emotional reliance on the substance. The individual is no longer using the substance for medical or recreational purposes. When a person doesn’t use the substance, their body will exhibit withdrawal symptoms, such as tremors, headaches, nausea, anxiety and muscle cramps.

Your Chracter Will:

Develop a sort of rountine/typical place where they abuse

Believe that the substance is essential for survival

Use substance even when it's unnecessary

Stage 5: Substance Use Disorder

While some people use dependency and substance use disorder interchangeably, they’re very different. Once a person develops a substance use disorder, substance misuse becomes a compulsion rather than a conscious choice. They’ll also experience severe physical and mental side effects, depending on the substance they’re using.

Your Character:

Has noe developed a chronic disease with the risk of relapse

Is now incapable of quitting on their own

Feel like life is impossible to deal with without the substance.

Lose their job, fail out of school, become isolated from friends and family or give up their passions or hobbies.

Research the Trends

Medical knowledge changes over time and with it the drugs prescribed. This then impacts the type of prescription drugs available on the streets.

late 1800s: chloral hydrate used for anxiety and insomnia > bromides > 1920s: barbiturates, barbital > benzodiazepines ("benzos") > early 2000s: opiod drugs > opiod drug bans led to growth of black markets: ilicit fentanyl > and so on...

Different countries/locations will have varying trends of drug abuse (depending on laws, availability, costs, etc.)

Research the Slag

look for "[drug name] trip report" on YouTube, etc. to get first-hand accounts of how drug addicts behave.

The main focus should always be to use the words your characters would use in ways that suit the world you have created.

The slang for certain drugs is a difficult vocabulary to maintain as it is ever-changing and varies based on country, region, town, even by streets. Some writers use what they know or have heard locally, others invent their own.

Resources

FDA (Food and Drug Administration) and DEA online databases and drug resources

Social networking groups focusing on related specialty writing topics, such as trauma or emergency medicine

Newspaper articles and medical journals are great places to find real cases.

The US national poison center 

Helpful Vocab:

Addled - sense of confusion + complete lack of mental awareness

Crazed - emotional anguish experienced by the addict

Desperate

Despondent

Erratic

Fidgety

Hopeless

Impressionable

Struggling

#writing #writers and poets #creative writers #helping writers #creative writing #let's write #poets and writers #writers on tumblr #writeblr #resources for writers #writing inspiration #writing advice #writing prompt #writing tips #on writing #writer #writing community #writerscommunity #writer on tumblr #writer things #writer problems #writer community #writer stuff #writblr #writers of tumblr #writers community #writers block #writers life #writing questions #writing quotes

[alexa-santi-author]

Why the "Regency Era" is a fantasy realm

I've seen some interesting discussions back and forth about making historical fiction and particularly historical romance more inclusive, and I do think that there's some merit to the argument that merely inserting BIPOC as part of the ruling class erases many of the historic struggles people went through in terms of both class and race.

However, there's something that people don't seem to realize when it comes to the Regency Era: it's a fantasy realm that was primarily created by a single author.

Just as J.R.R. Tolkien published his Lord of the Rings books and created a world that would loom over the fantasy genre for decades to come, Georgette Heyer created the Regency Era in a way that I think people looking at the romance genre from the outside don't really understand.

Heyer wrote several historical romances and mystery novels prior to 1935, but it was with Regency Buck that she introduced her version of the Regency Era, a version that has actually been far more influential in popular culture than that of Jane Austen. (Most of the Austen adaptations pull more from Heyer than people realize, especially in terms of manners.) Heyer's world is all polite society heroes with a stiff upper lip and perhaps a tinge of rakishness, spirited yet virginal heroines, and a cast of supporting characters that range from younger brothers to elderly aunts.

There are very few hints that anyone outside the aristocracy is of any consequence, or even knows how to behave themselves, even when the middle-class daughter of a rich "Cit" marries an impoverished aristocrat in A Civil Contract. Sex exists, but only behind firmly closed doors and, for the heroines, only after marriage.

And what about the minorities that we know lived in Great Britain during the Regency Era? Not just the racial minorities that included Black citizens and former slaves as well as Indian immigrants, but also religious minorities? They pretty much don't exist in Heyer's world, apart from a few anti-Semitic stereotypes of rapacious Jewish moneylenders that make modern readers cringe when they stumble across an unbowdlerized edition. There are a few jokes and whispers about "unmanly" men, but that's about it for LGBTQIA+ representation as well.

Given what we now know about the Regency Era -- and we know a lot more than Heyer did when she was writing almost a hundred years ago -- we know that her view of Regency society was as artificial as Tolkien's world. Despite her use of historical sources, her romance novels are set in a fantasy world that melds the fashions and historical events of the Regency with the Victorian morals and mores that Heyer herself was raised with. The Regency Era was the late Georgian Era and was far more vulgar and free-wheeling than Heyer was willing to admit. She left out the people who didn't fit into her vision of the Regency, which showed an Anglo-Saxon ruling class that deserved to rule because of their natural superiority.

So my opinion about TV shows and films like Bridgerton and Mr. Malcolm's List that show an inclusive aristocracy in the Regency Era is ... well, it's all fantasy anyway, isn't it? Why not make the fantasy inclusive since the whole era is Heyer's illusion dressed up with a few historical details?

And if you want to try and argue that Heyer was historically accurate about everything, be prepared: I have sources that Heyer either ignored or did not have available to her. Look up Benjamin Silliman's 1803 journal of his trip to Great Britain sometime.

#mr malcolm’s list #historical romance #regency romance #historical romantic fiction #romance genre #diverse romance #bridgerton #georgette heyer

[youhideastar]

Why you should watch Story of Yanxi Palace

It seems ridiculous to do a promo post for literally the most-watched television show on the planet, but I follow a lot of accounts that post cdrama gifs, and I don't think I've ever seen a single Yanxi Palace gif, and that's a tragedy.

Story of Yanxi Palace is a 2018 period drama with 70 episodes, set in the harem of the real-life Qing Dynasty Qianlong Emperor and featuring some real-life events and characters from that period. Our heroine is Wei Yingluo, a teenager who enters the Forbidden City as a maid, seeking to solve and then avenge her sister's murder. It was a smash hit when it was released, although it was later censored. You can find it on Viki.

If you liked Nirvana in Fire, you will probably like Yanxi Palace: Wei Yingluo is very similar to Mei Changsu in all the best ways, in that she is devious, ruthless, occasionally very funny, driven by revenge, and possessed of a fundamental core of decency despite her scheming ways. She is also a fifteen-year-old girl. (At the beginning of the show, that is - the drama spans more than a decade.)

Wei Yingluo's relationship with the primary love interest, Fuca Fuheng, is also just *chef's kiss.* She suspects him of her sister's murder, tries to secretly off him a couple times, and he then confronts her about it and hands her a knife, saying, "If you really think I killed your sister, you can kill me now. I won't stop you." We've all seen this scene a dozen times in assorted movies and shows; she loves him so she can't bring herself to do it; she'll drop the knife, they'll embrace--

Reader, Wei Yingluo takes that knife and STABS HIM IN THE CHEST. She stabs him in the chest!!! How can you tell she likes him? Because he survives the experience. Barely.

After that, you think this is a Mei Changsu/Mu Nihuang pairing where there's a relatively normal person who loves their devious little meow meow--and then Fuheng turns around and gaslights Yingluo with zero remorse and you realize that this pairing is actually 100% deranged 4 deranged. The shit these two do to each other and for each other is completely unhinged. At one point, she kills his wife and the two of them never talk about it. Not before, not after, not ever. Legendary. He calls her his zhiji. They will convince you that the height of romance is marrying other people but knowing one another so deeply that you can coordinate intricate political schemes without ever communicating with each other because you can predict one another's moves with perfect accuracy.

Also, the costumes, sets, and props are ridiculously beautiful (and historically accurate!), the characters are like 20 incredibly intelligent and complex women and then like 4 hot dudes, and the score is incredible.

Is there queer rep, you ask? Nothing explicit. But there are a lot of female characters who have very intense, passionate relationships with other female characters. Also, there's a subplot where the Emperor suspects the Empress is having an affair with one of his consorts and you can see his point; finally, there's a character who is intentionally set up to have a very ambiguous sexual orientation: I think you could plausibly argue that he's ace, that he's bi, that he's gay, or that he's straight. I'm not sure even he knows.

There's a lot more to love about it, but when a show's been streamed more than 15 billion times (yes, with a b), I feel like I don't have too much to add. 😂 Give it a try!

#story of yanxi palace #letter of recommendation

[tercessketchfield]

regency-set (or indeed any) period drama be like:

every other character: * more or less accurately dressed; at least the main aspects of historical costume are preserved in outfits and hairstyless *

the main heroine: * loose hair, vamp make, prom dress / male suit *

the filmmakers: You simply don’t get it; she’s a nonconforming free-spirit. She’s modern, you know? We wanted to give her a personality what

#and it's not only about the dress #unfortunately it's also too often about the character #to tell the truthe we are very lucky if we really get a glimpse of historical costume even somewhere in the background #it is only a mh for whom the worst costumes decisions are firmly reserved #ah side curls! it's decidedly for the boring fools in the sidelines #the advanced heroines don't wear it like that (derogatory) #period drama #period dramas #book adaptations #regency #regency era #jane austen #wardrobe #costume drama #persuasion 2022 #persuasion netflix #netflix persuasion #txt

[triviareads]

can you recommend for me a good historical romance with a heroine who is in STEM?

I read one good earl deserves a lover on your recommendation and I really liked Pippa. do you have other books with heroines like her?

Sure! Here they are:

In Want of a Viscount by Lorraine Heath (pub date 2/20/24): The heroine is a businesswoman and inventor who invented the typewriter (or a better version of it) and is very interested in engineering. The hero clocks this and even takes her out on dates to see Big Ben (no, not a euphemism but Stuff does happen up there) and to a club so she can disassemble a roulette wheel and I thought he was very hot for that.

Convergence of Desire by Felicity Niven: The heroine is so focused on proving Fermat's Theorem that she agrees to a marriage of convenience to a local rake so she can focus on math while he's allowed to fuck anyone he likes (he predictably can't get it up for anyone but her shortly after their marriage).

My Kind of Earl by Vivienne Lorret: The heroine accidentally incites a riot in a brothel and escapes by using one of her experiments, a beetroot bomb that makes everyone pink. She's generally an inquisitive, experimental sort from what I remember.

Knockout by Sarah MacLean: Another gal with a penchant for explosives, Imogen tinkers with explosives in her brother's basement, but don't worry it's for a good cause, namely her vigilante group, the Hell's Belles. Her expertise is also called upon to investigate a series of bombings.

When a Scot Ties a Knot by Tessa Dare: Maddie does animal illustrations for scientific books for naturalists and dreams of f illustrating multi-issue encyclopedias. A subplot in this books does involve lobsters fucking so Maddie can illustrate them accurately.

The Detective Duke by Scarlett Scott: I'm pretty sure the heroine in this one invented the first electric frying pan.

The Governess Game by Tessa Dare: The heroine goes around fixing clocks in aristocrats' houses before she accidentally becomes a governess for the slutty hero's new wards, and her one true passion is astronomy and looking for comets.

#book recs #lorraine heath #vivienne lorret #sarah maclean #felicity niven #tessa dare #scarlett scott #historical romance #romance novels #ask

[artist-ellen]

The trend was too strong... I had too much fun

I am the artist! Do not post without permission & credit! Thank you! Come visit me over on: instagram.com/ellenartistic or tiktok: @ellenartistic

#redesigning belle #historically accurate princesses #beauty and the beast #ellenart #redesigning heroines #historical costuming #historical fashion #digital illustration #character design #historically inspired #lnart #costume design #the great belle redesign #belle #tale as old as time #historically accurate disney

[lady-jane-asher]

April 5th 2024, happy beloved 78th birthday to the one and only Jane! She’s been my inspiration for around 12 years since I first discovered about her. It’s been a wonderful journey getting to share new pictures I find, my scans, colourisations and accurate information in regards of the pictures I found. May I be able to meet her one day. 🤍

This post will be divided in two, as the picture shown was used for two different newspapers that I scanned therefore the subtle mark on the photos. And you might have seen the photos with my old username so I am sharing them with the new one!

Jane Asher and Gawn Grainger as Juliet Capulet and Romeo in “Romeo and Juliet” presentation while being on tour in the USA, 1967.

First picture is my edition and enhancement from historical picture auction scan, second one is my scan from the newspaper, and third one is the scan of the newspaper.

Jane Asher-More Than a Beatle's Bird

In cities all across the U.S. this spring Beatle fans are swarming to a touring production of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet staged by the Bristol Old Vic Company. When Juliet appears on stage for the first time the reaction is almost always the same. Applause thunders through the theater. Flash bulbs pop—electrifying the scene like summer lightning. At the end of the play young girls scream the name of the actress who plays Juliet: "Jane Asher! Jane Asher!" This is the girl they have come to see. To a Beatle fan Jane Asher's romance is even more exciting than the story of Romeo and Juliet. Jane Asher, in case you haven't heard, is the girl friend of Paul McCartney-the last unmarried Beatle.

An Interview With Jane

To find out what kind of girl dates a Beatle and also has enough talent to

perform in one of England's most respected theatre groups, CURRENT EVENTS Editor Nancy Malone talked to Jane Asher in New York City. The 20-year-old actress seemed puzzled when asked why teen-age girls scream for her. "I don't really know," she said “and I don’t think they’re quite sure themselves. Once they’re with me, they seem a little lost and aren’t sure what to do or say”.

Miss Asher, in contrast to her fans, is not at all confused. She is looking the forward to a successful career in the theatre—on her own merit, not because of her friendship with a Beatle. The actress with the golden-red hair is well on her way to stardom. Her portrayal of Juliet with England’s Bristol Old Vic company has been highly praised. The company is nearing the end of 16-city american tour, which began in Boston last January. After appearances next month in Bloomington, Ind., Detroit, and Cleveland, the company will perform at expo 67 in Montreal. Then the actors and actresses will retur to England.

Does Jane Asher hope to do more Shakespeare? "Oh, yes." she said, “I'd like to do all the Shakespearean heroines-especially Lady Macbeth. But I'd also like to do modern comedy. I wouldn't like ever to stick to just one thing. For example, I don't want to do all movies or all stage. Though if I had to choose, I'd choose stage. I like having a live audience.

Movie Fame Unimportant

"I know you can become more famous by being in movies,", Jane said. "but I've had a taste of that kind of glamor, and I know I don't want it. I want to be a good actress." Jane, who has been acting since she was five years old, comes from a show business family. Her brother, Peter Asher, has toured the U.S. several times. He makes up one-half of the popular singing duo Peter and Gordon.

But Jane hesitates to encourage outer young people to become entertainers. "It's really not the glamorous life people imagine. It's hard work with rehearsals all day and shows every night. And when you come right down to it, acting is really only pretending you're something else on stage." Although Jane made several films during her childhood, she attended regular m schools—not acting schools for m professionals. "I'm glad I got a normal education," she said. "I think it gave me a more balanced view of life. In addition to several Shakespearean roles, Jane has played Alice in Alice in Wonderland, Wendy in Peter Pan, and Eliza Doolittle in Pygmalion. Juliet, however, is the highlight of her career.

Jane and the Bard

She is particularly delighted that she is helping to acquaint American teenagers with Shakespeare. She commented on her own attitude as a 13-year-old: "I suppose I felt as all English schoolchildren do-that Shakespeare was pretty dull stuff with lots of language I didn't understand. I know I wasn't mad about it." Now, at 20, she believes that Shakespeare wrote "the greatest roles in the world." She added: "On this tour, I've gotten a lot of mail and it has meant a great deal to me. Some of the letters from kids say “We came to see you. We were so surprised. We really liked the play.” “That’s great. That’s a real accomplishment to me —as an actress”.

#jane asher #the beatles #60s #beatles girls #actress #lady jane asher #something about jane asher #model #beatles women #1967 #romeo and juliet #redhead #red hair #vintage #1960s

[mermaidsirennikita]

I read both contemporary and historical romances and I feel like ice queen heroines are extremely underrated. Do you have any recommendations? Thank you!

I loooove an ice queen! Like, I honestly prefer ice queen heroines to sweet heroines.

Historical:

When a Duke Loves a Woman by Lorraine Heath. This heroine isn't so icy to her family, but she is icy to men otherwise because she basically thinks they're trouble who just want to love 'em and leave 'em (often with consequences for the woman) and tbh? She ain't wrong. But then she rescued the hero after he's mugged and cares for him and he sees her tits and the rest is history

Any Duke in a Storm by Amalie Howard. This is a PIRATICAL ICE QUEEN (but she's also a spy). She has a hero who's like a dangerous rakish borderline himbo and he's like "yes? we do sex? we do sex and kiss and things?" and she's like "NO WE DO NOT" (they do)

Lord of Temptation by Lorraine Heath. This is of the "aloof because she's trying to be a lady and also her heart is hurt" variety. She meets the hero (another borderline pirate but also a lord) when she's on a trip to visit her fiancee and he's VERY rakish and VERY seductive and yes there is sex on a boat and later a lot of scenes where he climbs into her room to tear it up by via a tree.

Joss and The Countess by S.M. LaVioelette. One of my favorite ice queen heroines! Alicia is twice-widowed and is exploring London to try to find a lover who actually pleases her (because neither of her husbands did). She's basically been fucking the wrong dudes and so she thinks she's frigid, until the servant she's been using as a bodyguard, Joss (who is a former sex worker) basically sticks his hand up there one night and is like "YOU WANT A BIT O' ROUGH?" because Joss is very dominant and can sense that what Alicia really wants is to be tossed around a bit. (How true of her.) It's actually kinda tense at first because he thinks she just wants him to service her and he's catching feelings but gasp she's catching them too. Also an older heroine/younger hero book (she's 39 I believe and he's around 27). Melissa and The Vicar comes before this and also features a frosty heroine (who is older than her virgin hero) but Magnus is more sweet and Melissa isn't quite as icy as Alicia, just super jaded. Both books, I should add, have discussion of past sexual abuse.

For My Lady's Heart by Laura Kinsale. And WHAT an icy heroine. Melanthe is a widowed princess who's known for having a heart of stone (and being a manipulative backstabber). She ends up being escorted on a perilous journey by a knight who idolized her for 13 years and developed this romanticized idea of her from afar and is quite... disappointed in her true personality lol. At first. Until he gets to know THE REAL HER. TW for medieval-accurate discussions of sexual assault, etc. Kinsale makes her characters have very accurate attitudes, and that can be intense but it's SO worth it.

The Dueling Duchess by Minerva Spencer. This heroine, who is a sharpshooter in a circus of women, has a very traumatic French Revolution-related backstory that leads her to being super aloof and jaded, which is hard because the hero, with whom she used to have a casual situationship, is a lovable rogue who reeeeally wants her back and For Srs.

Private Arrangements by Sherry Thomas. This heroine is known as this sort of jaded icy vamp, and she and her husband have been separated for ten years (basically since the day after the wedding). She asks for a divorce so that she can marry her lover, and he's like "hmmm give me an heir first", so they agree to fuck it out until she's pregnant and the baby is born. Very emotional.

Once More, My Darling Rogue by Lorraine Heath. This book has an ice queen who's really also just a brat lol. She treats the hero like shit because he's a former street kid who was adopted by a duke and duchess. Then he fishes her out of a river and she has amnesia, and he has the bright idea to wreak revenge by telling her she's his housekeeper lmao and making her wash his back and shit. But it's only supposed to be for a week! Then he'll tell her the truth... (If you've seen Overboard, this is that but historical.) TW for past sexual abuse.

The Perfect Crimes of Marian Hayes by Cat Sebastian. This heroine is aloof and icy because she was married to an asshole. Little does she know that the guy sending her blackmail letters is that asshole's secret son. Also, she doesn't realize that the blackmailer is falling in love with her through their back and forth letters (because she's like nice try dumbass and it turns into a correspondence). Adventure ensues. She also has a baby, and I like that though she loves the baby, it doesn't diminish her ice queen-ness? Like, she is still rather aloof and caring but not cuddly.

Waking Up with the Duke by Lorraine Heath. Lorraine does love an ice queen and Jayne is one of her best. She's kind but has sort of been made frosty by trauma. Her husband had a carriage accident that rendered him impotent, and she miscarried shortly after and has been caring for him since. The issue is that he doesn't give her any romance or really affection. But then he asks his best friend, a NOTORIOUSLY GREAT IN BED MAN to sleep with Jayne and get her pregnant so that he can have an heir and Jayne can have the baby she's always wanted. She agrees reluctantly... BUT NO KISSING. Such an amazing melting ice queen book.

Between the Devil and Desire by Lorraine Heath. Another all time favorite, and another fabulous heroine. Really, one of my top heroines. Olivia is another one whose husband was nice but not emotionally or physically there for her, and now she's widowed with a young son. But then, notorious gambling hell owner Jack Dodger is named as her son's guardian in her husband's will, even though he barely knew this man! It's so great to see this haughty ice queen get turned into an emotional mess by like, the first man who's ever gotten her going. It's really a sexual awakening book in a lot of ways because Olivia goes from being "GET AWAY FROM ME POOR" to drunkenly telling him that HE MUST NOT KISS HER knowing that her always does the opposite of what she asks lmao

When a Rogue Meets His Match by Elizabeth Hoyt. This heroine, who I kid you not is named Messalina, hates the hero a lot because he's her evil uncle's fixer. The evil uncle knows he wants her, so he's like "do this last job and you can have her". But she's determined to have her revenge. I read this when I was first getting back into romance and I really need to reread because I remember it being bonkers lol

Duchess by Day, Mistress by Night by Stacy Reid. Icy renowned widowed duchess with a young son hires this lowborn fixer type to find her son's governess after she goes missing. And he's like "okay.... but I don't want money in return....." Cue BIG awakening.

Sweetest Scoundrel by Elizabeth Hoyt. TW big time because the heroine is known as an ice queen and this is part due to her trauma surrounding childhood abuse. It is another huge favorite of mine, however. The hero is trying to start a pleasure garden, and the heroine basically sweeps in like "oh no you fucking don't" because her brother is his patron (I think) and she's handling her brother's affairs. The hero, a major rake type, is like "you bitch" but gradually gets to know her and realizes what's going on and starts helping her get comfortable with sex and men. It's honestly both very hot and VERY sweet, and it's this very gradual escalation that begins with a lot of mutual masturbation lol. And also a scene in which they're in a moving carriage and he realizes she's looking at his dick and he's like "I mean I can jack off in front of you if you want" and she's like "I WANT". One of the hottest scenes I've ever read tbh.

Contemporary:

The Hot Shot by Kristen Callihan. The hero is a rookie phenom quarterback, and the heroine is the photographer in charge of shooting this nude calendar starring the team. She's very frosty to him, but they become friends and then ROOMMATES and then slowly they work towards acknowledging their own trauma and stuff. TW because this is one deals with things like infertility, and especially his own trauma about a later-term pregnancy loss he experienced with another woman. I was actually really impressed with it tbh, because you rarely see pregnancy loss discussed from a hero's POV.

Salt in the Wound/Salt Kiss by Sierra Simone. Salt in the Wound is the prequel novella (kind of a long novella lol) from the heroine's POV, whereas she's majorly present in the back third of Salt Kiss but it's from the hero's POV. Would recommend reading in order. Isolde is a total ice queen, but she has this secret dark side... and a kinky, masochistic side. This is MMF, I discuss it a lot lol, but I really like the contrasting sides of her with Mark, who's similarly icy and very dominant, and Tristan, who's submissive with Mark but kinda like... dominant in the bedroom with Isolde, and soft out of the bedroom with her. Tristan also calls her "honey" DURING. A lot. And boy did that unexpectedly work for me.

Jana Goes Wild by Farah Heron. Love this one, the heroine had a fling with the hero in the past before finding out he was married (!) and then she turns out to be pregnant. Flash forward five years and they're polite coparents who end up in the same destination wedding party. She's understandably QUITE cold to him, but.... feelings arise.........

Lush Money by Angelina M. Lopez. This is the one with the billionaire heroine who offers to bail out the prince hero's tiny country in exchange for him marrying and impregnating her. Roxanne is a fabulously difficult, icy heroine who slooowly begins to melt.

#romance novel blogging #romance novels #book recs

[amphibious-thing]

So lets talk about Franklin. Overall I liked it. But it wasn't particularly historically accurate. This is hardly an issue that's unique to Franklin, it's an issue with the genre in general. It's impossible to take people's real lives, with all their complexity, and compress them into a entertaining, well paced TV show while also being completely historically accurate. Things inevitably get left out, timelines get muddled, a dash of creative license can get out of hand all to quickly. Straight off the bat Franklin lets us know it's not too concerned with historical accuracy by just completely leaving Silas Deane out.

That considered I liked it. I really enjoyed Romain Brau's performance. The moment when everyone is laughing at d'Eon in the theatre and it cuts to a close up of her face, you can see her pain, but also her resolve, her strength.

We see this strength again in the conversation between her and Franklin.

However. They got her name wrong. I know pretty much everyone deadnames d'Eon but really?!? It doesn't make sense in the narrative at all. D'Eon is being introduced as a woman why would her deadname be used in this scenario. Just in case you haven't heard me say it a thousand times, d'Eon's name was Charlotte-Geneviève-Louise-Auguste-André-Timothée d’Eon de Beaumont, or Geneviève d'Eon for short.

The timeline also seems confused. In one scene Temple makes a bet on d'Eon's sex but historically these bets had pretty much stopped after d'Eon was declared a woman in both England and France. There had been a lot of speculation over her sex in the past but by the time she returned to France there seemed to be an answer; d'Eon was a woman who had disguised herself as a man. While there were certainly people who made fun of d'Eon, they made fun of her under the belief that she, to put it bluntly, had a vagina. In Franklin the jokes made at her expense rely on the insinuation that she had a penis and the satirical cartoon of d'Eon and Franklin having sex depicts her with a penis.

Historically there were rumors that d'Eon and Franklin were lovers but these rumors were based on the widely held belief that d'Eon was a woman. And woman was understood in a very cisnormative way.

The pamphlet History of a French Louse (published in French and later translated into English) follows the story of a louse who finds himself on d'Eon. The louse describes d'Eon as "a woman whose manners were so absurd, so masculine, and unsuitable to her sex". The louse is still residing on d’Eon when she goes to dine at Franklin’s place:

My heroine [d’Eon] left her seat to place herself close to the master of the house [Franklin], to whom she sung some verses of her own composing, which I should not have thought excellent but for that circumstance; however they were greatly applauded. I plainly observed his excellency express his gratitude to his Apollo by an ardent kiss, but without quitting his spectacles; at the same time he whispered in her ear, Shall it be this evening, my goddess?

While the pamphlet acknowledges that d'Eon had "appeared in the habit of a man, and wore the cross of St. Louis" it states that "she was a woman". Certainly History of a French Louse is mocking d'Eon and Franklin but the author clearly believed that d'Eon was woman.

Oh also they misgendered her in the credits!

#also what was with the pee scene what were we supposed to take away from that? #franklin #historical fiction #chevaliere d'eon #benjamin franklin

[ariainstars]

The Genius of Georgette Heyer

Georgette Heyer, an Englishwoman who lived from 1902 to 1974, is one of my favourite novelists, and I often reread her books or at least some parts of her books just to retire into an agreeable world. She wrote historical novels and thrillers, but I must admit I don’t like these very much. To me, Heyer’s genius was giving a breath of fresh air to the overworn genre of romance novels set in the English Regency era. (Although some of these Heyer novels like These Old Shades or The Convenient Marriage are set during High Rococo.)

In my opinion Heyer is highly underrated, standing in the shade of the more known Jane Austen or the Brontë sisters, books women most relate to when they want to read historical romance novels; Barbara Cartland is also more known, an author whose works are too saccharine for my taste.

Austen’s or the Brontë sister’s novels are not actually romances although they are often described as such; they are accurate portrayals of the society the authors lived in, romantic attachments playing a major role of course, but the focus is on the importance of family and society framing them and influencing them, for good or for bad.

I always found myself drawn to Heyer’s stories, long before I fell in love for the first time myself; the average romance novels get on my nerves. Now, and after having experienced love more than once, I can say that I wholly share Heyer’s approach that no matter how much in love you are has no influence on whether you and the object of your interest fit together.

The common trope in romances is “love conquers all”, which I personally dislike because it strips the protagonists of having their own mind and their own agenda. “Love” makes the choice for them; they don’t consciously choose to be with this person or other. Alternatively, the protagonists are “meant for each other” but “star-crossed”, i.e. circumstances or their own folly (or both) prevent them from being together, in which case the novel is framed as a tragedy and we are expected to cry buckets over it.

This is fortunately not the case in Heyer’s romance novels. Like Cartland, she writes of an England that was long gone before she was born, of course in a romanticized way. A lot of her stories mirror how the do’s and don’ts of those times, in particular in the upper class, influenced their lives and made it very difficult to navigate society.

Georgette Heyer’s genius is her capacity to imbue old tropes with new elements, and most importantly, to detach herself from the adage “love is all you need”. Without being sarcastic, she is at her best (in my opinion) when she weaves stories about people who realize that being in “love” is not that important at all. Her romances do end well, yet not due to the influence of a higher power but because the couples involved had the chance to realize who is the right partner for them to spend the rest of their lives with. Her heroines are usually headstrong, independent and reasonable; they may act on a whim or following their heart, but it is when they listen to reason - or are pushed to do so - that they finally get their happy ending.

Warning: spoilers ahead.

The Cinderella Trope

Arabella, and also Friday’s Child and The Convenient Marriage deal with the subject of a poor, or at least modest-living, female from a good family being launched into London’s high society by a strike of good fortune. In the latter two novels, this includes for them the chance to buy a heap of beautiful new clothes, strongly reminding of the Cinderella trope.

But Heyer would not be who she is if the novels would not be original in their own way: Arabella, far from being a modest, kind girl, pretends to be a rich heiress in order to “show his place” to a man who believed she wanted to ensnare him due to his wealth; Hero from Friday’s Child and Horatia from The Convenient Marriage both do not end but begin the story through marriage, and the plot unfolds as they slowly realize (and their respective spouses, too) that they have married the right person after all.

Finding Love in an Unexpected Place

In The Convenient Marriage, the Earl of Rule is ready to marry a certain girl to make a match, arranged years earlier, with a poor but very aristocratic family; it is on meeting her younger sister that he realizes “he does want to ally himself with the family”, to put it in his words.

In The Quiet Gentleman, as he has to deal with conspiracies and attempted murder, the protagonist Gervase Frant learns to put his trust in a female he first found dull, and who is not aristocratic the way he is.

In Sylvester or The Wicked Uncle, the Duke of Salford is at first disappointed by Phoebe, the girl his mother and her friend had chosen for him, and she doesn’t like him any better; they have to live through a number of adventures, together with friends and family, until they realize that they fit together perfectly.

In Sprig Muslin, Sir Gareth Ludlow overcomes his grief over his lost fiancé due to being responsible for Amanda, a girl of similar temper, and getting the chance to compare her to Lady Hester, a shy, unremarkable woman whom he liked but did not appreciate enough before. A beloved theme of Heyer’s romances is brought up here, too: having the same sense of humour shows to be indicative for two people fitting together.

In Charity Girl, notorious bachelor Viscount Desford gets involved both with a very beautiful girl named Lucasta and another, quite helpless damsel named Cherry, but none of them turn out to be right; instead, he finally realizes that Henrietta, an old friend of his, whom he had not wanted to marry years earlier, is the right mate for him after all.

In Faro’s Daughter, Mr Ravenscar gets interested in Deborah, a girl who works in a gaming house, which makes her free game to all men who visit it although she is a decent girl and only wants to earn a living for herself and the aunt who owns to place. A parallel is made through the protagonist’s niece Arabella, forever being in love with one guy or another but then refraining at the last moment. Finally, her uncle gives her a sound advice: that only if she will meet a man whom she will be ready to introduce to her family, she will know that he is the right man.

In False Colours, twin brothers Kit and Evelyn literally switch their places, one of them finding the right girl in the process by getting to know his brother’s prospected bride.

In The Foundling, the Duke of Sale is all but pushed to make an offer for Harriet, a girl he likes but is not in love with; but as he lives through some adventures and meets Belinda, who is very beautiful but also superficial, he learns to appreciate his future bride better and to realize that he would not want to be married to anyone else.

The Wrong Match

In An Infamous Army, Lady Worth wants to match up Colonel Charles Audley with Lucy, but then has to find out that the sweet, innocent-looking damsel is already secretly married, and that the temperamental Lady Barbara whom she had not liked for him is exactly what he needs since she has courage and straightforwardness.

Not Falling in Love at All

In A Civil Contract, Viscount Lynton, heir of an impoverished family, marries the shy and average-looking Jenny, the daughter of a rich, vulgar merchant to keep his family out of debt; she loves him but is aware of the fact that he does not requite her feelings, since he secretly loves Julia, a beautiful woman who does not have much money of her own. It is only as the plot thickens, the woman he loves marries another man and his wife gives him a son that he realizes “his Jenny” is the best wife he could have found.

Falling Out of Love

In Friday’s Child, Lord Sheringham believes to be in love with Isabella, an acclaimed beauty, until he has lived for a while with Hero, the young woman he had married on a whim. “Bella with her airs and graces, her moods and her sharp tongue! No, thank you!”

Isabella on the other hand was about to contrive a brilliant match, but good sense makes her refuse it after all. “When I thought how my life would be, that I would have to spend the rest of my life with him… oh, I could not!”

In The Grand Sophy, Cecilia is besotted with Augustus, a very romantic but unreliable young man. After a trying period spent nursing her small sister, who was critically ill, she finally realizes that the less romantic but more worthy Lord Charlbury who had offered for her in the first place is a much better partner for her.

In Cotillon, Kitty enters a fake engagement to teach a lesson to Jack, the man she is in love with; but when she comes to London for a while and learns more about him and the world, she slowly realizes that she was in love with a figment of her imagination, and that Freddy, the man she is engaged to, is a much better person.

“He seemed like all the heroes in the book, but I soon found that he is not like them at all.” “No. I’m afraid I ain’t either.” “Of course not! No one is.”

Heyer’s chief oeuvre in this respect is in my opinion Bath Tangle, where Serena and Lord Rotherham, both hot-tempered protagonists get engaged to someone much gentler than them, only for them to realize that they would not be happy with them. The heroine’s fiancé Hector gives her up amicably, having also found a much better life partner.

“You are a grander creature than I even imagined.” “And you are the kindest and best of men, but not my love!”

The “Pride and Prejudice” Trope

The themes of Jane Austen’s famous novel is upended in Faro’s Daughter, where it is the man who has a strong prejudice against the girl, whom he inevitably believes to be a scheming, money-grabbing minx because she earns her living in a gaming house. The girl on the other hand has strong personal pride and would never accept money from anyone, or accept marrying or becoming the mistress of a man for whom she doesn’t care. Far from declaring his devotion to her, the man insults the woman repeatedly, before he finally realizes his mistake and also that she is the right mate for him.

The Beauty and the Beast Trope

In Black Sheep, the protagonists Abby and Fanny are aunt and niece, both at the same time in love with two members of the Calverleigh family who both have a bad reputation; but while Beauty (the niece) has to realize that the man she had fallen for was only after her fortune, non-Beauty (the not quite so pretty, but intelligent aunt) realizes that the uncommon Miles who gives nothing on society’s standards does care for people, and that he is the broad-minded, worldly-wise partner she exactly needs.

In Venetia, the person falling out of love is a Edward Yardley, a sidekick, who really ends up being disillusioned; but the story had made it abundantly clear that he had been a fool all along to believe that he and the protagonist would suit. Venetia, the Beauty, has to find out that she cannot tame the Beast Lord Damerel, and that she wouldn’t want to do it additionally. The Beast is not a bad man but someone who does not fit in with society; which makes him ideal for her since she does not, either.

This trope is brought to a climax in Lady of Quality, where the protagonist Annis, who never felt the slightest interest in the gentlemen she met, on getting to know the rude but protective and straightforward Oliver finally gets to fall in love, despite the fact that they argue frequently. At one time she muses that “Surely kindred spirits did not quarrel?” only to then add mentally, with a little self-irony, “How mawkish!”

If you are tired of Jane Austens’ prim heroines and the Brontë sister’s drama, I invite you: give Georgette Heyer a try. Her novels are entertaining but neither flat nor sentimental, and I always find new layers and aspects in them when I reread them after a few years. Her heroes of course live in an idealized world, but it’s just what you might need after a hard day’s work. 😊

#historical romance #literature #georgette heyer #jane austen #bronte sisters #english literature #critical reading #romance #reading #entertainment