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Actually Steven Moffat is basically just this sentiment given human form.
A version of this happened with The Magicians, tbh. Though instead of expectation: men, reality: women it was expectation: smug nihilists, reality: mentally ill queer folks.
Arguably Game of Thrones.
If we broaden it outside of television…I think Star Wars falls into this, at least the sequel trilogy. Maybe the MCU as well. And I can’t help but think of every band that’s ever complained that their fanbase is mostly women. 5 Seconds of Summer comes immediately to mind.
In general, most white male creators seem to have this massively entitled mindset where they want–and think they deserve–the time, attention, and enthusiasm that creative fandom (i.e. the side of fandom more dominated by women) is known for.
They want our eyes for ratings, our word-of-mouth for free publicity, our metas for social media buzz, and our spending power for merch and cons. But they don’t want us. And they don’t really want the responsibility of telling a story to a thoughtful, engaged audience, regardless of that audience’s demographic makeup. They just want to be praised for whatever schlock they cough up.
And like any other spoiled brat, they will break their toys before they share them.
It goes all the way to the top for kids shows. Toy sales will crash a show. Makes sense, but if those toys are gendered for boys instead of the female viewers, they won’t usually switch up the marketing and move them to the girl aisle. They cancel the show outright.
Mind you it is perfectly possible to make the switch in marketing, but execs would rather throw it all out than have something that doesn’t perform well with male viewers. For example the Rey merch was not expected to be popular, for some reason, there had to be public outcry to get merch of one of the main 3 protagonists. A PROTAGONIST. The fact that she wasn’t a huge part of the 1st launch says a lot already.
And what happened when female fans got too invested in the Sequel Trilogy? The entire writers room didn’t necessarily lash out, but they sure forgot how to behave.
Young Justice
Paul Dini: Superhero cartoon execs don’t want largely female audiences
#WhereIsRey (initial)
#WhereIsRey (ongoing)
The older, male generation of 'Star Wars' fans may be losing interest in the franchise, but female fans are stepping up.
Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker was designed to be the opposite of The Last Jedi
#SONS OF ANARCHY!!!!!!!!!!!!!#LITERALLY SONS OF ANARCHY IS THE BIGGEST EXAMPLE OF THIS LIKE EVER#kurt sutter wrote that show for MEN and ended up with an overwhelmingly female audience#because he’s actually a good writer and knows how to develop characters well and wrote excellent female characters#but once he realized that his audience was almost entirely women he literally took it out on tara and gemma in the show#but like tara specifically#he resented her character for being a huge draw for female viewers so he tore her development to shreds and killed her#in the most brutal gut wrenching way possible#kurt sutter you will pay for your crimes#i actually wrote a manifesto about this on one of my old blogs i should try to find it sldkjsldfjsdljf#long post (via@m-oonknight)
OMG YES. I LOVED Sons of Anarchy, especially the women and then I got to season 6 and it was like - everything was just tossed in the trash? And like, why did Sutter hate that Tara drew tons of attention? That should have been a good thing! He should have been like “Hey folks, this girl’s getting us more viewers, let’s put her in more scenes!” It just doesn’t make sense to me. MEN don’t make sense to me.
The 100 too. I’ll never forget how Jason Rothenberg would attacked female fans on Twitter and mock them in interviews, and then post links to male fan discussions on Reddit to praise and thank them. In his goodbye letter to the show he SPECIFICALLY thanked Reddit and it was so disgusting.
Star Trek from TNG on was also a boy’s club, even though the TOS fans were mostly women. Women, in fact, who literally created modern fandom with their zines. But after TNG it was all, “Women don’t understand Star Trek, only smart men hur dur.”
(though it could probably start to make some sense if you follow the money past audience bases to maybe a couple of investors or like a rich patron … 🤔)
Stooooop I just wrote a masters thesis on this shit. Media creation and distribution is a means by which dominant power structures consolidate their hegemony. Dominantly situated creators get upset when the audience they attract isn’t the audience they wanted, because they view the whole creation and sharing of the fiction as an exercise to sustain kyriarchal conditions that benefit themselves. When the audience is Other, they see it as a failure of those efforts and lash out.
Simply, they’re trying to assert a particular worldview via fiction, and upon getting confronted with something else, begin foot stamping. It’s not just men wanting male attention and gatekeeping. It’s that the fiction in the first place was an attempt to curate dominance and whoopsie! they miscalculated.
(anyway if anyone wants to read 35k words of philosophy about this, hmu)
Hey folks, for anyone that was interested in the thesis (firstly thank you so much for reaching out I really appreciate the interest) the following is an open access link to download it. Please let me know if it doesn’t work for some reason. Comments are now restricted so can’t put it there, but I hope you see this if you were interested!
I’d also love to hear your thoughts, as I literally wrote it for communities like ours to read, so, thanks.
Fictions are a cornerstone of human cultures: they are created, shared, discussed, modified, and valued. Yet, philosophical accounts which p
you know what? i've got another bone to pick. today's peeve: digital reconstruction of historic dress.
i can't figure out what this prouvé dress image comes from--for all I know it IS some AI retouching thing--but it could 100% be uncredited work from an academic digital reconstruction project.
as a dress historian and someone who does, to certain extents, reproduce historic dress, i have NEVER seen a digital reconstruction project (as of 2026) that I think actually advances knowledge or supports public understanding. the technology simply isn't there--and it's paired with a lack of serious sewing/textiles knowledge, specifically of the historical variety, in its technicians (ex. for Clo3D).
This has become more common in recent years with digital projects meant to resuscitate unwearable historic clothing and show it in movement, etc. Common arguments in support:
We can't get that fabric anymore to make a physical reconstruction
Digital work is much faster than physical, especially mockup/pattern/fit tests
Virtual products can be disseminated to a global audience
Ex. Empress Shōken's evening ensemble;
and the Refashioning the Renaissance doublet project that the School of Historical Dress--who are excellent when it comes to physical reconstructions--advised on:
Etc.
So! You know what can also be disseminated digitally to a global audience? Photographs and videos of physical reconstructions! (Ex. the entire BBC A Stitch in Time series.)
You know what does not behave or look like actual fabric? Digital fabric! Ever.
You know something really crucial to many items of historic clothing that separates it from modern clothing? It is often meant to shape the body--meaning that 'draping' or 'fitting' it digitally to a natural-body-shaped avatar (or, as I have seen, one with a modern bra/shapewear silhouette) is pointless.
Check out the difference between the physical and digital reconstructions of the RtR project:
There are worse and more recent examples to point to as well, but I'm not feeling mean enough to drag them out right now.
In addition to physical reconstruction, you know what a really good and more reliable method of showing, say, the hidden guts of a garment is? Illustration. Really good, loving line drawings of the type that Janet Arnold and Nancy Bradfield specialized in.
Patterns of Fashion 2 (1972) / Costume in Detail (1968)
I'm not saying that physical reconstruction and traditional illustration methods are perfect. But in my relatively well-informed opinion, digital reconstruction is nowhere near the point where it is actually useful in any capacity and I would appreciate if people stopped acting like it is.
The technology and its attending parts (pre-loaded fabrics, textures, avatar bodies, etc) are designed for modern clothing, and imo they aren't even very good at representing that realistically. They absolutely cannot be ported over and used for historic clothing. This has been discussed in the field; the last conference I went to had a whole panel on the topic. But people keep trying anyway, and they continue to argue for the method's utility.
If you actually care about furthering knowledge and public understanding, put the digital tools down and funnel that money towards physical reconstruction and actual, experiential understanding of material, fit, and result. Having to rely on a worse-quality linen IRL does not actually screw up the overall effect to a serious degree, even though it might change the making experience as well as wear patterns and strength of the ensemble. Using modern linens still provides useful information to researchers ("If this fabric doesn't do the right thing, what would the historical version have needed to look/act like in order to accomplish that?") and certainly gives a better and more realistic visual experience for audiences.
In my humble opinion, your average historical costumer is out there in the trenches doing more important and useful work than the leading digital reconstructors.
Something I wrote a while ago that I felt like tinkering with again just for funsies, cuz I really enjoy the hero x villain dynamic and who does not love vampires?
~~~
The hero’s first thought when she saw the shadowy figure in her living room was that they had picked the wrong house to break into.
The second thought, once she recognized the figure, was that this was how she was going to die.
She had never seen Villain without their mask, but their form and that swoop of hair was unmistakable in the dim glow of the streetlights outside.
“Hello, Hero.”
And then there was their voice, that low, velvet utterance of their typical greeting. Softer than she had ever heard it, and somehow more intimate spoken in the middle of the night in her empty apartment.
She had never felt more vulnerable than she did at that moment with no mask, no armor, and only a pair of sweatpants and an oversized tee-shirt for protection. “Villain. What are you doing here?”
Something was wrong. Villain had always carried themselves proudly but tonight they seemed to hunch and shrink in on themselves in a way that Hero had never seen before. She expected them to posture, or to at least make snarky comments about her decor, but there was nothing.
“If you’re here to fight -- “
“No.” Their refusal was sharp and instant. “No. I’m not here to hurt you.”
Then why were they here? Didn’t they have something better to do on a Thursday night than break into their nemesis’s home for shits and giggles? And why were they acting so strangely?
“Villain… are you hurt?”
They took an unsteady step towards her. She took one back in response.
“No,” came the soft response. “Not hurt. Not this time.”
But there was something wrong.
“Are you sick? Were you drugged? Did you take something?”
With every question they took another step forward and she took another step back.
“No.” Villain answered, and their mouth turned up in a strange smile, as if they had thought of something funny, the punchline of a joke that they were unwilling to tell her. “Didn’t take anything. Wanted to. So many times. Would you give it to me if I asked?”
“What?” Now she was even more confused. “Villain seriously, stop messing around. Why are you here?”
Damn it, why did they have to be taller than her? Each of their steps seemed to take two of hers. They had always been fast, always been graceful. They had crossed her little living room so quickly, her retreat backing her into the shadows of her kitchen.
With every step their eyes remained locked on her, their eyes flickering over her form in a way that seemed to strip her bare of all pretenses.
This was quickly spinning out of control.
“How -- how did you find me?” She was always so careful to make sure she wasn’t followed on the way home from her hero-ing. The ability to bend light certainly came in handy for that. So how had they managed to track her all the way back to her apartment?
The villain took another step forward. The hero stepped back again and found her back against the kitchen counter. “Followed your scent,” they murmured, taking a deep inhale, then let it go with a deep sigh. “Always know when you’re nearby.”
Well that was… deeply concerning. “You’ve known where I lived this whole time?”
They shook their head. “Never followed it. Not until tonight. Wanted to…”
That was a relief. Her relationship with Villain had always been complicated but they’d always had some kind of mutual respect for one another. She really did not like the idea of them stalking her home on a regular basis.
“Okay, good to know.” She laid her hands against Villain’s chest and tried to nudge them back but she might have well have tried to push a brick wall. Actually, she’d been thrown into more yielding brick walls. The physical demonstration of Villain’s strength probably should not have excited her as much as it did. “Why did you follow me this time?”
“Hungry,” they answered, and for a moment their dark eyes seemed to gleam red in the dark kitchen. “Couldn’t steal what I needed. They’ve started guarding it better now. Caught your scent.” They took one of her hands from their chest and stroked their thumb gently over her wrist where her pulse skipped under their caress. A smile curved their lips. “Always your scent. Always in my head, even when you’re not there.”
The hero was confused. What did her scent have to do with anything? But the villain was clearly not in their right mind. Maybe if she fed them they’d come down off of whatever weird high they were on and start making sense again. Their nearness and this prolonged physical contact was doing dangerous things to her heart.
It didn’t help that somewhere along the way she’d developed a crush on them. It wasn’t fair. Why did her nemesis have to be so attractive? Their continued rivalry had become almost as much of a game as their exchanges of flirty banter. She knew it wasn’t serious, just a way to disarm and distract her.
It didn’t work. Of course it didn’t. She was a grown-ass woman and just because she hadn’t been on a date in… a while… didn’t mean she was going to be susceptible to hollow flirtation from her nemesis.
“You want… food? I mean… I guess I could make something.” She turned to glance around the kitchen. She had some leftover pasta in the fridge. The carbs would probably be good to absorb whatever it was that had put Villain in such a state. “You could have stopped at a McDonalds or something, you know.”
She tried to step out of their grasp but Villain’s grip was as strong and immovable as the rest of them. “If you don’t let go I can’t get you food.”
But instead of letting her go, Villain leaned in until she could feel their breath on her neck. They took a slow breath, the exhale feathering over her skin. “I’m starving, Hero. I want the taste of you so bad. Will you let me?”
“You -- what?” How could she possibly think with them so close? A taste of her? What the hell did that mean?
Her free hand shoved again against their chest and in that moment she realized something that she had never realized before: Villain did not have a heartbeat. Or at least it was so slow and so weak that it would never sustain a human.
“Villain… what are you?”
She felt the curve of their smile against her skin. “Ah, she asks at last. For a time I thought you might have already known, but you didn't?” They trailed their lips slowly down her neck and she felt her pulse skip under their touch. “Would you like to guess?”
The super strength was not uncommon, but the enhanced senses… eyes that gleamed red in the dark…
“Oh…”
Villain was a vampire.
She’d heard of others, both in the hero and villain communities. It wasn’t something openly spoken about, but it wasn’t directly hidden either. More of an open secret if anything else. Most of the heroes had their sources to get what they needed but apparently villains had a harder time, especially if they didn’t want word of what they were getting out. Her villain was apparently one of those people.
“Couldn’t steal what I needed. They guard it better now.”
Villain must have been stealing from blood banks and hospitals. There had been an increase in thefts over the last few years, to the point where many of those facilities were hiring private security now. With that option taken away there were not a lot of other options. Vampirism still wasn’t openly talked about so private donors were rare. Villain was not the type to start attacking civilians; they had always tried to minimize casualties if they could. Hero respected them for that.
“You want my blood.”
“Wanted you for so long,” Villain confessed. Their thumb brushed over the pulse in her wrist again as they gently guided her hand back to rest against the counter behind her. “Could all but taste you every time we fought.”
That explained the strange look they got sometimes when they were close. When their eyes seemed that much sharper behind their mask, their movements a hair less controlled. “How long has it been?”
They bowed their head against her shoulder in silence and for a moment the hero wondered if they had even heard her.
“Don’t know. Days… weeks? When was the dock fight?”
“The dock -- that was almost a month ago!” It had been that long since they’d fed? Were they mad? “Why did you wai--ah!” She let out a squeak when the villain’s lips brushed over a sensitive spot on her shoulder.
This was not helping either of them. They were starving and if things kept going the way they were the hero was going to do something that would embarrass them both.
But before she agreed to anything she had to know why.
“Why -- why me?” She asked, her breath hitching as their free hand traveled to her waist. “Why ask for my help? You could have gone to someone else.”
“Know you,” they murmured softly. “Knew you would help. A hero always does the right thing. You always did.” Their grasp on her tightened just a little and she jerked in their hold as they laid a feather-light kiss over her throat. “Can help each other. Please… I know you’re lonely. I can help you fix that tonight. I’ll be good to you. I promise. So good to you… Just -- just let me… Let me taste you. It won’t hurt. Promise… I’ll be gentle… Make it feel good…”
The hero froze in their hold. How desperate must their Villain be to offer this? Pride warred with sympathy as they continued to lay kisses over her skin, followed briefly by the teasing skim of fangs.
Hero wasn’t that hard done by. If she wanted some companionship she knew where she could find it. There were plenty of options in the local bars for people looking for a hookup. Only hooking up had never been her style. And how was one supposed to maintain a functional long-term relationship when one moonlighted as a superhero?
You didn’t, that was how.
It was a life that led to too many nights in a cold and lonely bed, but that was the life she had chosen.
In those first moments after Villain had appeared in her kitchen she thought they might have actually returned her feelings. But of course they hadn’t. They didn’t want her. They were just another person in need of help.
So she agreed because she always did.
“Okay.”
The villain let out a shaky sigh, their body sagging against the hero’s, even as their fingers gripped her waist a little tighter. “Thank you.”
Their lips brushed again over her throat and she closed her eyes, willing herself not to shiver in response. Another whisper of lips against her, followed by the gentle trail of sharp fangs and this time the hero could not help the breathless sound that escaped her.
“I can hear your heart pounding,” the villain murmured against her neck. “It’s okay. It will feel good. I promise. I just -- I just need a little -- “
There was another shuddering breath and then a sharp pain as their fangs pierced her skin. She barely had time to cry out before an impossible warmth flooded through her that had nothing to do with pain.
The villain groaned against her neck and pressed her harder against the counter as their mouth worked against her skin.
Hero bit her lip, desperately holding back the sound that wanted to escape her. This… this was a mistake. Not just because it was the most intimate physical contact she’d had in years and it was coming from her nemesis. Every gentle pull of their mouth and stroke of their tongue made her feel like she was burning from the inside out and made her want to beg for more.
The fingers of their left hand twined with her right on the counter as they leaned into her, the hand at her waist sliding to her back to pull her impossibly closer. The firm lines of their body pressed against hers, pinning her back against the counter.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before she became aware of them pulling away, breath shaky as they swept their tongue over the wound they had left behind.
“Fuck.” The word came out a bare whisper against her skin, followed by a trail of kisses that left her weaker than their bite had.
“V-Villain -- wait -- “
“Mh?”
“S-stop --”
They paused in their kisses, drawing slowly away to look her in the eyes. “Is something wrong? Did I take too much?”
Hero glanced quickly away, her hair falling to hide her face from their gaze. “N-no. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Then why -- “
“You don’t have to.” She forced out, deliberately casual.
Villain frowned, confused. “But -- I thought -- “
“It’s fine,” she repeated, and this time when she pulled out of their grasp they let her, stepping back to give her space. “I’m not the kind of woman who accepts sexual favors as payment.”
“But -- that’s not -- I didn’t mean -- “
The hero cut them off. “And I don’t want your pity either. You needed help and I gave it to you. Let’s just… leave it at that. Okay?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Let’s just… forget it ever happened.” That was what she wanted to do. She had accepted their offer in a moment of weakness and now wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment.
Actually that wasn’t true. What she really wanted was to beg them to take her to bed and do something with the heat that their bite had kindled inside of her. Did vampire bites do that to everyone or was she just so damn touch-starved that even something like that made her desperate for more?
“Do you have somewhere to stay? Or like, are you able to get home?”
“What? Oh -- um… yeah. Yeah I can… I can get home.”
The hero eyed them measuringly. They certainly looked better. Their complexion was no longer the sickly grey that it had been and was far closer to its usual alabaster paleness. Their eyes were clearer than they were a few moments ago, the dark iris turned fully crimson now. They seemed lucid.
And then they took a step towards the door and she could see them waver with the movement.
God damn it.
She sighed and dragged one hand through her hair in frustration. “Stay here tonight.”
In someone less preternaturally graceful she’d have called their next step a stumble. “What?”
“You’re in no condition to be going anywhere this time of night. At this rate you’re just going to get yourself hurt.”
Villain gave a crooked smile that should not have been as endearing as it was. “Um, have you forgotten what I am? The time of night means nothing to me.”
Hard to forget when she could still feel the echo of their mouth on her skin. “It will mean something when you run your bike off a bridge.”
“Hey!” They drew back, affronted. “I will have you know I have never crashed that bike.”
“You’ve probably never gone so long without feeding either,” Hero pointed out.
Villain had no argument for that. They glanced away, their mouth curved in an unmistakable pout.
Hero turned away to hide their smile. Damn them. “That’s what I thought. Just… give me a few minutes. I’ll get some blankets and make up the pull-out.”
It gave her an excuse to make a much-needed retreat.
Hero ducked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it with a sigh. What the hell was she doing? Had she lost her mind completely? Villain had broken into her apartment. She should have kicked their ass out and gone to bed. But oh no, she was a bleeding-heart idiot with a crush and an inability to say ‘no’.
The hero groaned and scrubbed their hands over their face. Well, there was nothing for it now. She’d volunteered and now there was going to be a vampire bunking on her couch for the night.
What even is my life right now?
And here she thought things had gotten weird when she became a superhero.
With a bemused shake of her head, the hero flicked on the lights and turned to the linen closet to retrieve a couple of blankets and an extra set of sheets. She always kept her place warm but Villain’s hands had been cold when they’d taken hold of her in the kitchen. Had they always run cold or had it been a side-effect of their famished state? Hero wasn’t sure. This was the first time they had ever touched skin-to-skin.
Hand to hand. Mouth to throat…
Best not to think about it, for the sake of her own dignity, or what remained of it.
As she turned away she caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror. A rosy flush rose high in her cheeks and combined with the disheveled state of her clothes, she looked like a woman who had just been messing around with a lover. Helped not at all by the fact that the wide neck of her shirt had been pulled almost off her shoulder and there was a deep red mark on her neck that looked very much like a hickey.
Villain had been true to their promise. It hadn’t hurt, beyond those first few seconds. It had felt good, better than she wanted to admit. Upon closer inspection, even the puncture wounds seemed to have already healed.
Huh…
Well that was useful.
Wait. Right. Blankets.
Hero shook her head and pulled up the collar of her shirt before leaving the bathroom.
Villain did not appear to have moved an inch from where she had left them. They stood silently in the kitchen, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. If anything they looked… embarrassed.
They turned as soon as the door opened.
“Hey. Um. I got — “ She held up the blankets, then gestured towards the living room.
Villain followed silently behind her and paused when she deposited the blankets on the armchair and started tossing cushions aside on the pull-out couch. They watched as she set up the bed, fidgeting as if they weren’t quite sure what to do with her hands.
Their gaze burned into her like embers on her skin.
Hero determinedly did not meet their gaze.
At last the makeshift bed was as comfortable as she could make it.
“Okay, so um… that should do it. Do you need anything else?”
They had never been this awkward before, not even in their first fight where she had thrown them through a plate glass window. But then, they had never propositioned her or taken her blood before.
“No,” they responded softly. “Thank you. You’ve done more than enough.”
“Okay.”
The silence stretched on between them, the scarce feet of distance that separated them seeming like miles in the wake of what had happened.
“I should… I should let you sleep,” Hero said at last.
“Right. Sleep,” Villain agreed hurriedly, stepping back to allow her to move past him. “You should… you should also sleep. All considered.”
“Right. Considering. So um… goodnight.”
With those final abbreviated words, Hero bid a hasty retreat to her bedroom and closed the door behind her.
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I am deeply offended by this! I was reading thoughts on what D&D classes the characters of The Mummy (1999) would be, and there was a comment that Jonathan was obviously a rogue, but either a badly built one or one with shit dice rolls. And! Excuse you? Jonathan is a perfectly acceptable rogue! He rolls fine when he’s actually attempting to do something!
In the first movie alone, some of his greatest hits:
Successfully pickpocketed Rick on their first meeting, without Rick so much as joining the dots until later.
Survives a pitched battle on a burning ship without a scratch, and somehow gets the key from a burning hook-handed enemy mook in the process. (“And did I panic? I think not!”)
Survives a pitched battle in the Hamunaptra ruins while drunk, through liberal use of cover and picking off targets at range.
Rolls a Nat 20 on his deception check to avoid being massacred by a large group of hynotised enemies in the museum.
Survives the final pitched battle with the undead (again, through liberal use of cover, hiding and running).
Successfully makes his intelligence roll to translate the Book of Amun Ra (with the Help action from Evie).
Successfully uses the resulting control over the undead mooks to even out the battlefield, including the genius brain move of sending them after Ankh-Su-Namun to both save Evie and distract Imhotep.
Successfully pickpockets a lich while being strangled by him to regain the key and enable Evie to use the book to banish Imhotep altogether.
Yes, he’s fairly flimsy in direct battle, and if at all possible refuses to get to melee range with anybody. So he’s a ranged rogue, and has a tendency to use the environment to his advantage. But he’s clearly designed around Sleight of Hand, Charisma, and a decent sprinkling of Intelligence, and prefers to use object interactions and battlefield control to even out his odds. For all that, though, he fully will stay in melee range if he has no other choice, and take the opportunity to pickpocket the BBEG while he’s at it.
He's a perfectly serviceable rogue, he’s just not optimised for straight combat. And even there, as the second movie shows, he’s excellent at ranged combat. He just doesn’t like getting up close and personal.
Actually, going back and rewatching that final battle again ... I don't think that Jonathan stayed in range of Imhotep because he had no choice. He stayed in range specifically to pickpocket him.
I didn't realise before, but this whole battle starts with Evie telling Jonathan that the only way to kill Imhotep is to open the book and read the spell to banish him. Jonathan says it's locked, they need the key, and Evie then tells him it's in Imhotep's robes.
When Jonathan sends the priest mummies after Ankh-Su-Namun with the spell on the cover (saving both Rick and Evie in the process), Imhotep is coming right for him. However, Imhotep is then briefly disabled by watching the brutal murder of his lover all over again, and Jonathan ... could have run. There's a beat there where Imhotep is completely focused on something else, and Jonathan absolutely has the presence of mind to use that, but he doesn't. Imhotep, now incensed that Jonathan has murdered his lover, promptly spins back around and goes to murder him back, and is only stopped because Rick returns the favour from earlier and saves him.
At which point a lightly-strangled Jonathan stands back up and tells Evie he got the key.
He fucking stayed put on purpose because he knew they needed the key, that Imhotep had the key, and that he was the only person who could fucking pickpocket the BBEG mid-strangulation and get away with it, so long as someone could swoop in before the undead wizard actually killed him. Imhotep is immortal and immune to damage if they don't do something about that. This is a fight of attrition they cannot win. And his sister told him what they needed to stop it, so Jonathan went and got it.
He cheerfully calls himself a coward, and then he goes and fatally pisses off a lich as a distraction, and then stands still to be murdered for it in order to get close enough to pickpocket the immortal pissed off undead. It wasn't that he took the opportunity while being strangled, he set up being strangled in order to have the opportunity.
Say whatever the hell you like about that man, but he has never once failed to do something his family actually needed him to do.
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had a friend who used to make new ones up on the spot. The only one that stuck with me was 'good golly jelly beans'. If something catastrophic happens I go for 'that's not ideal.'
My aunt once used "Gosh darn hokey beans, golly jee-willickers". It's been more than 20 years and she's forgotten it entirely but it really stuck with me.
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Do you guys remember how kidnap fantasies were popular on wattpad because young girls and queer teens were both made to feel shame at the thought of their own sexualities, so the fantasy of being kidnapped totally against their will was a way for them to engage with a romantic or sexual fantasy without feeling morally in the wrong for doing so? Added bonus that the fantasy involved being whisked away from repressive environments like home or school, right?
Finding out that Bram Stoker was in a sexless marriage and that scholars believe that he very likely was closeted gay puts the entire book into perspective as to WHY it reads EXACTLY like a self insert wattpad Dracula kidnap fic:
“I TOTALLY love my wife and would never do anything that an upstanding Good Straight Working Man wouldn’t do but oh nooo, big strong man with broad back and strong enough arms to carry me back to bed like a princess trapped me and claimed me as his, completely against my will 👉👈 But he protects me against the bad evil sexual women (who I assure you, I am TOTALLY sexually attracted to, as any straight man with a choice would be) but trust me, I do NOT want ANY of this. What’s that? The Count is not capable of feeling love? Would be a shame if I had the special ability to change tha-”
This is also the fantasy behind all those old bodice-ripper romances that people today like to mock or call problematic, by the way.
“Oh, my next forty years are going to consist of nothing but washing dishes and keeping house and bearing children for the disdainful man I married right out of high school because my parents said college was for men and I had no other obvious life path open to me? What if a pirate captain thought I was worth stealing away from it all? [what if I ran away but no-one could blame me for leaving]?”
#I read an article a long time ago about a woman who was raised in an incredibly repressive conservative christian community#where all that mattered was purity and virginity etc #She talked about how for a long time rape fantasies were the only way she could derive any pleasure from sex #because she couldn’t feel safe exploring the idea of wanting sex #it wasn’t really ABOUT rape or eroticizing assault or whatever #it was about creating a scenario where she was free from the shame associated with wanting #i think this is true of a lot of icky-seeming stuff in romance and erotica #it’s an imaginary scenario where nothing you don’t really want actually happens #but you can’t be blamed or feel guilty for it #you didn’t do anything wrong#anyway that article changed my perspective a lot #i think there’s also something to be said for people who have felt ugly and undesirable their whole lives #enjoying fictional scenarios where a hot alpha werewolf or whatever is so attracted to them he ‘cant help himself’ or whatever #because it can also be really shameful to want to be desired #when you feel like youre ugly and gross ( @headspace-hotel )
It's like the reasons why monster romance and enemies to lovers is so popular.
Especially for those who feel unwanted, unattractive, or othered by society, there's something to the idea of someone who understands, who is an outside as much as we are. Someone who sees the worst of us and loves us anyway.
I forget if I showed the beautiful Tyrian purple that they made in the synthesis chemistry lab that I collaborated with at the art museum. They’ve been synthesizing mostly blue pigments and dyes from throughout history. This was my first time seeing Tyrian purple in person and I was so excited!
Historically it was made from murex snails and was hugely expensive and used by royalty, but chemically it’s similar to indigo so the class was able to create it in the lab without snails.
While I was in town for Otakuthon I had to make time to visit the Costume Balls exhibit at the McCord Stewart Museum! Historical fancy-dress costumes are a special interest of mine and this exhibit did not disappoint ❤️
It was super interesting to see the variety in style and quality; some costumes had impeccable craftsmanship, while others were made with cheaper materials and not meant to last (but have survived against the odds nonetheless). I also loved the interactive screens where you could flip through some of the costume idea books with illustrations.
This is only a tiny selection of the photos I took; I was there first thing in the morning and only left when I had to catch my plane 😅 if you're in Montreal I highly recommend checking it out before it closes on Aug 17; I think it's going to Ottawa after that.
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This is actually such a crucial part of healing from neglect and abuse and I have to add to this.
Because indeed, people who like you will not roll their eyes and sigh at the idea of accommodating your needs, they will value your voice and be upset with you about injustice done to you, not at you for "being difficult". They will be happy when you find a way to live a better life, and help you to get there. If you are struggling, someone who loves you wants to see you smile, not tell you to smile because "you have it so good".
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