#very beau behavior

[armentas]

because my sister cut her own hair today, it gave ME the bright idea to do the same with my framing pieces in the middle of the night, and...let's just say it did not go as planned. i ended up sitting on her bed as she laughed and fixed them for me lol. mentioning this on here because it felt very much like a heather and beau bonding moment :)

[luna-the-cretar]

Does anybody know of any good Catboy Caleb fics. Not necessarily for smut reasons, I just feel like he deserves to be a Catboy

Ships (or lack thereof) don’t really matter. I just wanna see my scrunkly meow meow be a Catboy

[meadowsofmay]

i honestly love fjord so much. i do, i do very much love him. he is a gentle man, simple in his desire for family and place in the world. he wants to do things for his found family, he wants to protect them, to have power to do so, deeming himself useless the moment he lost his magic abilities — not realizing how him just being himself did so much for protection of those around him.

i think of it as one of the most adorable traits that fjord has — his unconscious need to see people. making sure everyone is seen and heard and their opinions are taken into account. he has always made sure that caleb spoke up even when caleb was deep inside his shell, not really tugging and pulling to force him out but just asking like it's normal, not making a huge deal. the thing is it might haven't been a huge deal for fjord, it might have been just who fjord is. it has been a huge deal for caleb, beaten and on the run and stripped of any dignity and voice. caleb didn't want to speak. fjord couldn't imagine him not to.

fjord always looked out for beau. like a found older brother, he taught her from a perspective she respected. he knew he could make a change in her — she felt seen and understood. fjord might have scolded but he didn't judge. he was on her side always while calling out her bullshit. beau respected that. she wanted to be like him, or at least to learn more from him. she was thrilled at the idea of becoming his first mate because it would give her an opportunity to be closer to him.

and i just want to point out how both caleb and beau both learn to see fjord, taking after him. how caleb had a reality check realizing the implications of fjord giving himself to avantika and that moment changing the whole course of their behavior and relationship both with each other and others. how beau learned to care for others and made sure to give back to fjord in form of honest worry and care for his well-being.

can we just appreciate fjord — who appreciated people for who they are because he was never appreciated for who he is before. because despite all of cruelty that was thrown towards him he saved his gentle heart. he is not weak for being kind, he is not weak for being hopeful. his biggest power has never been his magic but his ability to give people a chance, to wait.

i just love fjord so much and i want you all to love him too.

[the-mighty-e]

Okay so... I was doing a md rewatch before ep 7, and I noticed something in ep 4 that I NEVER noticed before.

In the scene where V covers up Uzi, when she sits down, I always thought she was frowning. Cuz like in ep 3 she's starting to realize that worker drones don't actually care about death anymore or smth like that.

BUT NO

SHE'S ACTUALLY SMILING IN THE SECOND IMAGE IM GONNA BE SICK

And after noticing that I started thinking back on her behavior with Uzi and realized how much she actually cares about her.

Look at her smile. She's starting to care about the workers smmmm Im crying

Okay now for Vuzi. In ep 4 V initially saw her as just a "purple thing", later on as Cyn. But probably N saying "what did I say about antagonizing her?" got her thinking. What if she was really antagonizing her? That's why she covered her with the teacher, and that's why she smiled.

Now, episode 5 doesn't have much about them. We know that V remembers stuff from her time as a worker, so we know that she got once possessed by Cyn. She would be the only drone ever to understand what Uzi is going through. (another reason why she protected her in ep 4).

This reflects in ep 6. When Alice cuts Uzi's finger she can be seen flinching.

Idk about you, but it's kinda strange for V, the most insane out of the trio, to flinch when someone's finger got cut off.

This further proves just how much V started to care about Uzi. Same when Alice and Beau died and she was trying to escape the Sentinels. She immediately rushed to save Uzi, even if she just witnessed her getting fully possessed for 5 good seconds by Cyn

She didn't have to save her. She could've ran away, leaving Uzi to be killed by the next sentinel that passed by. But she didn't. She brought her back to N and Tessa, holding her tightly

And of course.

When they saw the Doll trap.

V immediately went to protect Uzi, getting extremely worried too when she was about to use her solver

This shows just how V started to like Uzi. She initially saw her as a thread, another Cyn, a thing and a monster. But after the sky therapy she probably saw herself in Uzi. Someone who's always been alone, someone who the solver can control however it wants. A poor possessed worked, confused and scared.

Moving to her sacrifice. The very first time V called Uzi by name instead of dumb nicknames. Immediately before she was smiling after N said that they still needed her. But she didn't believe him fully. They could do well without her, she probably thought. She had done nothing but cause troubles with Uzi. She wanted to make it right

Giving her full trust to Uzi, giving her life to Uzi. She was literally half possessed by Cyn but V still decided to trust her. And then she smiled at her.

That smile, immediately after the "I trust you" meant a lot coming from V. That smile was to assure Uzi that she doesn't see her as an enemy anymore.

Okay rant is over because I'm tearing up.

I love Vuzi so much I love tragic yuri 😭

[f-lilo23]

Thank you everyone for over 700+ likes on my Beau pere post!! I’m so glad you all like it

Here’s my Nojiko (still thinking of a name)

-Appearence inspired by Chioma Umeala’s portrayal

-Laidback and cool demeanor but cares a great deal about his brother and is very protective

-My headcannon for both Masc! Nami and Nojiko is that they take after Beau pere in some aspect. Nami’s is more internal like attitudes and behavior while Nojiko is more external (I.e clothes style, skills,etc). It’s to show that Beaupere had a long lasting effect on them.

-Skilled at a rifle (like Beaupere)

- His style is more afro-islander inspired (makes sense since Cocoyashi is technically on an island)

- His kid self’s hairstyle is based off an old doodle I made a long time ago and it just fits so well . His adult self I struggled with since I wanted him to come off as laidback but still gave him the air of an older brother. In the end I went with a regular afro puff.

-I changed the tattoo a little bit to be more masculine but made sure it fit into the theme of islander/tangerine farmer

-Also this is a detail that both me and my friend @silkentine came up with, that Nojiko is really into bead-making. It helps calm his nerves and keeps his hands busy. Especially since he’s brother is a pirate now.

[therealslimshakespeare]

Gone Presley || chap. 5

Sarge 2nd Generation. || An early chapter from the memoirs of Bee DeWitt Presley, wife of Danny Presley. (I have such fun making these “extra” materials to go with this universe, things like tabloids or memoirs, etc.) So here’s Sarge’s daughter-in-law’s memoir pictured above.

Warnings: fluffy, based loosely on Brooke Shields’s harrowing time as a child actress so there’s mentions of awfulness on set and bad relations with her mother, a thirteen year old crushing hard on a sixteen year old. Elvis being an awesome dad, Shiloh having a led foot on Marie’s golf cart, studio lot shenanigans, the day that Bee met the Presleys…terrible descriptors of studio lots. Marie is a director by now, a lá Sofia Coppola

🏷️ Taglist: I used my old one since it’s been so long, let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

Circa: 1993

Chapter Five:

It’s a matter of course that in a life, unless that life is entirely stagnant which is only achieved by death, you can often look back and point to a single moment where everything changed.

Some of us have a series of those days, for others they come all in a rush in the early years, for some they are inconsequential little blasts of fate until the end, for others it’s a great crescendo up until the small slide of hours and years that make up their life.

And for me, by 13 years old, I thought I had had quite enough of them to last a lifetime. Until I met the Presleys, and everything, quite literally and metaphorically, changed for me.

All these previous little changes that had me so bored and no doubt had my readers in a similar predicament these past few chapters had me occupied most rigorously one day on Lot B in the Warner Brothers studio, filming my fifth take on my twentieth day of shooting my seventh film, a bit of a raunchy coming of age flick with the working name of Pretty Baby. Seeing as how the oldest age this coming of age film featured was thirteen, the studio sagaciously renamed it Carmella upon release and I won a golden globe nomination for my performance of childhood sex work.

I also finished ninth grade grammar that year, precocious regarding literature but hopeless in chemistry. Which is perhaps why I’d never managed to be particularly rebellious outside of reading material, I could dress however I pleased with my mother’s indifferent standards and my behavior was moderately subdued as might be expected from an overtaxed child performer- how very different was this outlook compared to that of the vivacious little hellion who drove her big sister’s green painted golf cart onto my set and asked if I could I play.

It will show you just how very domesticated and subdued a child I was that upon seeing a fellow preteen driving like mad on the studio lot, I did not so much envy the fact she had a golf cart or her father’s stupidly perfect face but rather, the freedom to play about at 1:45 in the afternoon of a weekday. What kind of carefree existence was that?

Unthinkable! Off putting, dangerous, irritating.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hate her for assuming I could play, or give her a benediction and beg her to enjoy good ole thirteen for me.

I’m Shiloh Presley, she’d told me in that simple way of kids meeting kids. Shiloh had long legs, a confidant grin and the easy way of a very loved kid. She still acted like we were five year olds and everlasting affection could be gained by swapping a toy, sharing a shiny bit or bob, offering food. If she’d been any less devasting I might have stayed on that stupid studio lot filming a dubious film and never met the family who changed my life.

I know who you are, I told her, probably coldly and as vinegary as a jaded thirteen year old could manage, I’ve seen you around with Marie.

I’d have given my left foot, my front two teeth, my prized Tiffany locket, everything but my doggie Beau for the chance of being directed by Marie Presley. I just knew she’d give me a fabulous part where I could cry and scream and smile to great effect and it would be like those therapy couches my mother spent our money on…only, successful at making me feel something..

We’re all here to visit her, she didn’t come for Easter and Daddy is put out by it, Shiloh informed me though I didn’t ask.

In fact I was on a five minute break, standing by the water cooler near the huge studio lot door and that’s why I’d seen her at all when she rolled in. I was bored and ruining takes, she then said, and-Daddy told me to go run off the energy and grab you if I was so bored”.

I had to take a minute to process the fact Elvis Presley knew I existed and sent his daughter to grab me as a playmate. It was rather thrilling. With only thirty seconds left on that water break I made a decisive move to climb into the green golf cart and let Shiloh Presley drive me off in a tailspin of poor gear shifting. I mostly did it because if Elvis Presley knew I existed, I didn’t want his only firsthand report of me to be that I was a boring goody two shoes who was too straight laced to leave her job and have some fun.

I was starting to care about my reputation, you see.

It didn’t take long before, gratefully and as it should have been, the mythic Elvis Presley and my frazzled teenage fame were dwindled down to a static roar in the back of girlish screeching and an outright tipping golf cart. We careened about the place for over an hour, vaguely aware of the terror we were producing in what was essentially an overly glamorized workplace. Blurry figures sent to fetch me whirled past as we took another turn and clipped a pile of pallets, we ended up extras in the background of another film which gratfully was set in the present times so our appearance was not ruinously anachronistic.

I’m not sure we said more than twenty words that first hour of friendship, Shiloh and I, but you learn a lot about somebody when you’re whooping and hollering and vulnerably happy. What I learned from her was how to be sweetly impossible and to be sure of what you wanted, something I hadn’t had a break to figure out for myself as yet. She wanted to spend her time having fun and she went after it with a blithe tenacity that was foreign to me. We picked up another kid, one of the few times Shiloh braked for anything. I never did get his name but I think his mother was a stan- in extra and he was bored of all the waiting between takes.

Suddenly in the shimmering road ahead of us appeared the figure of a man somehow out glowing the sun with his magnetism. He was older, heavier, graying, and every bit as devastating as he had been when he’d first cuckolded the entire male world in 1956 -and he was waving us to a screeching stop with his jeweled fingers acting like reflectors on the end of a traffic conductor’s wands.

Shiloh brakes for him. It’s her father after all. All I can see is Elvis Presley leaning into our space, ducked under the fringe canopy of the cart and perspiring from the heat and what might be effort to catch up to us. He helps himself into the cart next to me, I’m suddenly in the middle before remembering having scooted over for him. The gear shift bumps my shins when Shiloh engages it again.

Go faster, her father tells her and his famous voice gave me a shudder. It was so thrilling and uncanny to hear it close— Go faster. her mama’s bouncer fella is after us.

Her. That’s me. I realize. He’s playing hooky with us. I love him madly. My fate is sealed. Shiloh shifts again, my shin is going to be bruised.

Elvis Presley then held a conversion with me while his daughter floored it back towards Marie’s set. We went through all the usual junk we’d gone through on the way here, makeshift wardrobes and caterers and shade tents for directors, some sound equipment and we barely skirted a pen set up for a braying, real life, genuine camel. Elvis held the conversation, I gasped out nothing but muffled shrieks pertaining to the driving.

He asked if wanted to come to dinner, he hoped I would, his missus had been longing to get a good, hearty meal into me since she met me last week. I’d never had a father, I’d never had someone want to feed me. My mother hadn’t either. She was more interested in scales. Elaine Presley knew I existed and wanted to feed me.

I fell in love again.

Elaine Presley wanted to feed me.

I adored Elaine Presley and had specifically incorporated more orange into my wardrobe because of her Vogue cover of last fall despite the fact my complexion didn’t suit it like her. I had torn apart a complimentary bouquet and scattered it in my bathtub to mimic her Bazaar photo shoot. I had perfected my southern drawl. I had crafted a ring the size of her re-marriage diamond out of costume rhinestones.

I’d do anything to be the next Elaine Presley

I couldn’t find my voice to say any of that. Thankfully. I couldn’t even find it to give Elvis a proper thank you for the invite.

Or, crucially, to cite my mother as cause and decline.

Fate had other plans, took the trajectory right out of mine, and like most scary things it ended up being something good for me in the long run. We’d turned at the corner that has the queer blue hydrant when something large and curly headed splattered on our hood.

A whole boy, in fact. Spread eagle, gripping the top of the cart’s dash panel with long, tanned fingers that brushed against the dials, his back shiny under the sun and his legs going on so long past the headlights his bare toes almost drug against the cement as his sister hadn’t paused in her pressure on the gas.

Floor it Shi!- he told her in a wheeze, the impact had affected him but only in the lungs, his face was unrepentantly cheeky and his eyes utterly innocent- I’ve gotta get off this damn lot, all the producers want their money back for the rock candy.

Something about his face told me it was actual rocks. That he’d sold as candy. And that they’d bought it. And that he’d made a lot off them for it. And that he was the sorta guy to manage that. And right when he needed it, his sister's golf cart would come in and play the getaway driver for him. And I was a cynical thirteen year old but sue me, I actually laughed till I cried at the notion that all those high and mighty executives who had made me feel so low and small had bitten into rocks they’d paid for before questioning if they were being had by a Presley child.

Danny, his father addressed him as we passed F Lot and careened into safer territory, into Marie’s set for They Come Softly and its old west props of cacti and wagons, Danny you spend too much time with Jack, his father observed.

Daddy, Danny had said back, I spend all my time with you.

Now that’s not true, Elvis responded, you spend plenty with your mother and she teaches you better than this.

Daddy, Danny was smirking by now and I was in love, she just says to me to be like you but smarter.

When the golf cart stopped, Elvis helped me out and I about fell over into his arms- from dizziness. Honest. That night I did go to dinner with them. Afterwards I was so sure I’d be in immense trouble by the time I got home to mother. Turns out she had been pacified somehow by Elaine Presley before the dumpster fire of our relationship could fully implode from this episode. Mother asked if I’d like to spend my nights with them at their Palm Springs house sometimes when she was in Vegas. Such times I was usually alone at the house in the canyon so I jumped at the chance. To be with such nice people, to have a friend in Shiloh, to get away from the producers, to watch Danny Presley in all his sixteen gloriously ripe years, bake himself on a pool floatie.

I’m not sure if he noticed me then. He isn’t either, even now. He was very busy being sixteen. I was his kid sister’s friend. Worlds apart, someone for me to watch during dinner and spy on at the beach showers. Someone to ask about homework questions because Elaine made sure I kept up with school.

I never learned much from him even though he was impressively patient and very smart, even then. His mature voice had come in and it turned me to goo, hearing it in my ear as he talked equations. I mostly just stared at the way he held a pencil.

That was the happiest summer of my life up to that point.

I learned how to be young.

In doing so, I became too young for the first thing I’d ever wanted all on my own volition.

Taglist:

@prompted-wordsmith

@powerofelvis

@crash-and-cure

@elvisabutler

@heartbrake-hotel

@stylespresleyhearted

@thatbanditqueen

@crazymadpassionatelove

@myradiaz

@ash-omalley

@steph-speaks

@burningloverdoll

@angelface-555

@lookingforrainbows

@missmaywemeetagain

@coolgirl462

@kingdomforapony

@18lkpeters

@richardslady121

@from-memphis-with-love

@lillypink

@artlover8992

@pennyroyalcreep

@notstefaniepresley

@ellie-24

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@presleyenterprise

@marriedtopresley

————————-

@dkayfixates

@vampireindistress

@ashtag6887

@i-r-i-n-a-a

@obsessedvibee

@peskybedtime

@goth-cowgirl-03

@stephthestallion

@fav-fanficssss

@loving-elvis

—-

@honeyorangess

@soloangel

@xenaspace3-blog

@60svintage

@dragonkingsdaughter

@presleysgirl6

@that-hotdog

@mydarlingelvis

@presleysweetheart

@50sexyshadesfashionista

@sexystarfish

@whatstruthgottodowithit

@suraemoon

@lialocklear

@elvispresleywife

@presleysgirl6

@ipostwhtifeel

@jaqueline19997

@queenheartz

@starryschoolgirl

@elvisalltheway101

@azzypog

@ab4eva

@possessedmarshmellow

[utilitycaster]

Do you think fan reaction to Laura characters (most sharply seen with Imogen and Jester), is because a large portion of those problem fans see those characters as, rather than actual characters with agency and interiority, but vessels for their wish-fufillment? Especially when it comes to things like romantic relationships, power, being girly-pop/a girl-fail/girl-boss (to put it reductively), and, with Jester specifically, almost universally adored.

This would go some way to explaining why they seem to disregard Laura, Laura's intent, and any criticism of said character. Because it goes beyond "you can't criticize that character because they are my favorite" to sometimes "you can't criticize that character because they are ME."

Perhaps I am just (I suppose this is petty to say) too comfortable with my self as a person to ever wish to base my enjoyment of a story on whether, not even that I can relate to the characters, but that I can effectively use a singular character as a vehicle for my own wants and needs. Certainly, there is a place for those sorts of characters and wish-fufillment stories. Whole sub-genres of Romance are based around this. Yet, it boggles my mind when people try to apply this to works in genres that do not actually support it and then get angry when it doesn't meet their expectations. Sure, there are no rules about being a fan, do as you wish, but when this sort of behavior seems tied to some of the worst behavior exhibited in the fandom, it does beg some discussion.

(This is not a condemnation of the characters themselves, or Laura, Vex and Jester are wonderful, and while I have problems with Imogen tied to the larger structural issues of C3, as a concept and on paper, she had potential for being a great study in power and powers corruption....which I'm now realizing could have been an amazing throughline theme for C3 as a whole, if anyone had seized the reigns and drove it along that path intentionally, but, world of pudding, oh well. This is purely a criticism of a certain fandom trend.)

So here's what's interesting - the way fans saw Jester (and to a lesser extent, Vex, at least post-c1 since I was not around for C1) and the way fans saw Imogen, at least after a while, are very different in my opinion!

The Vex, Jester, and early Imogen view was very much, yes, wish fulfillment, but it was also especially tied to shipping (for multiple different potential partners, ie, this was pretty common for ships with both Beau and Caleb in C2), and yeah, much of it was projection. That does fit into, as you say, the romance novel wish fulfillment model. I remember that my shipping/multishipping philosophy throughout C2 was "whomever Jester chooses," and I was pretty vocal about that and a lot of people who have since rage quit the fandom over this ship had no issue with that for a long time. The thing is, then when she chose, suddenly to many of those people she was a stupid little girl who didn't know what she was doing and who should be miserable and punished for her transgression of not doing the romance they wanted her to do. Vex is actually kind of interesting in that I'm sure someone is out there who treats her as a shipping doll for Percy; but more frequently I saw the same Marisha and Liam stan problem, of Vex only in the context of "person Keyleth looks up to but also who should date Keyleth and be second to the Tempest, a thing which would make Vex miserable if you have even the slightest idea of her character" or only in the context of Vax's sister (the vessel of grief problem I ran into when I joined the fandom as someone who liked Vex as a character more than Vax and saw that half the content was just Vex Is So Sad Forever.)

Imogen started out this way - the oh my god she's a widdle baby girl with headaches and nightmares that the more worldly Laudna kisses better - but that quickly failed to be supported by the text, and Laudna as a character failed to fit the Keyleth or Beau model of Most Cool And Powerful and so actually, as I've observed before, a lot of the Marisha Stans of yore left because Laudna didn't support their idea. And similarly, a lot of the people who'd claimed to like Jester were gone over C2 shipping bullshit, and that vacuum was filled by the Campaign 3 fans, many of whom were overall new to the show.

Now, Imogen is unavoidably a central character of Campaign 3, with particular narrative importance compared to other PCs - it would be ridiculous to say otherwise. But here's the twist (and god i gotta finish my post about this): a lot of the C3 fans who came in to fill the vacuum that Marisha Character Stan With Laura Character As Wish Fulfillment were not the "um, actually, Beau and Keyleth are the leaders and the best characters" sort of person, even though, hilariously, Imogen is closer to that than either of them were (and I say this as someone who enjoys Beau and Keyleth very much, I just don't subscribe to the They Are Leaders Who Are Always Right mentality).

A lot of C3 fans were much more enamored of a new model of blorbo: not the coolest hottest most powerful badass (though occasionally they'll dip into that, especially when they shift into mindless bean counter mode), but rather, the most perfect spotless sacrificial lamb, who is eternally wronged and eternally gracious and when they're not gracious it's because they've had so much trauma and you can't expect them to be gracious all the time but they're always so good and you can't criticize them because they've had such a hard life, and also they belong to at least one oppressed group so if you criticize them you aren't just mean to someone who should never be criticized, you are also probably a bigot and a bad and ontologically evil person.

So Imogen is that. She's not wish fulfillment as the coolest person ever; nor is she wish fulfillment as "person banging the character they think is the coolest person ever"; she is, in their minds, wish fulfillment for "person who can never be criticized." Which is closer to what you said.

Unfortunately for them, this sort of person doesn't really exist, like, at all. I think there's cases where one should be judicial about one's criticism, but actually talking shit about fictional characters is, as a rule, morally neutral. There are things you can say about individual fictional characters that are bigoted, and there's patterns of behavior towards fictional characters that show a more subtle bias rooted in bigotry, and there's far more things you can say about fictional characters that are simply in poor taste or indicate the person doing the criticism is a fucking idiot, but you are always allowed to not like a character because of their actions and behaviors within a narrative, and vocalize or write this sentiment.

This did not sit well with many people, who thought they'd found an ironclad way to never be criticized again, probably because they are stupid as fuck because what kind of idiot thinks this is a possibility.

Now I would be remiss in saying this was unique to Laura; this was a C3 problem generally and spread to Laudna/Marisha and Ashton/Taliesin (the "she literally was traumatized? they're literally punk?????" defenses) as well, and infects discourse about Campaign 3 still because at the core of it, a lot of Bells Hells fans, in their fragility, want that wish fulfillment and are really mad that people are like "oh, you don't like that I'm criticizing you or the thing you like? sounds like a you problem" even though it literally is. While the treating Laura's character like a self-insert issue was a problem in past campaigns (and I think the fact that Vex and Jester had those more slow-burn, background arcs made them appealing targets) I don't think that particular segment of Imogen's fans want to be her; they just want the nonexistent immunity they made up for her to be true for them.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 20

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! An unlikely flirtation turns into a dark obsession... Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw/involuntary captivity. -> all chapters

Twenty. 二十

He was right, of course. 

Donaka takes you up to the very top of the Peak for a fabulous view of the city and the blue harbour below. It’s touristy but so fun, and in his company it feels all new again.

He takes you for a walk through Victoria Gardens nearby, a quieter little park you didn’t visit on your birthday foray. He holds your hand, and the two of you chat while you stroll, and it’s possible you lean on him more than you have to in your tall shoes. 

He doesn’t rush you while you admire the flowers, taking pictures of some of the bright tropical blossoms you like best with his phone for you. You even goad him into taking a selfie with you, his long arm extended as you both snuggle for the camera with the azure-tinted cityscape of Hong Kong spread out behind you. 

This little sojourn is tranquil, and sweet, and if you didn’t know any better you would almost feel like the two of you were a normal couple. 

When you return to the car park a pack of young boys are standing around the Bugatti, ogling its svelte mother-of-pearl curves. You find yourself tensing, expecting Donaka to explode when the youngest boy dares to touch the chrome gas cap emblazoned with a dragon, his round features written with awe. 

Donaka speaks firmly to the boys in Cantonese, making them jump, but one of them smiles up at the tall man as though he senses his gang is not completely doomed, and answers with a cheeky lilt and hands on his hips. They chatter back and forth, and you are dumbfounded when your forbidding beau says something to make the boys laugh. You are even more surprised when he pulls a fold of brightly printed Hong Kong dollars from his pocket and hands it to the oldest boy, pointing to an ice cream kiosk across the way. The pack cheers and races for the treat stand, calls of “Do jie! Thank you!” drifting back as they jockey for first place at the window. 

You laugh, so loudly you cover your mouth with your hands. “What did you say to them?” 

“They told me they were guarding the car, so I had to pay them off,” Donaka answers with a smirk and a glint of what you think might be admiration in his dark eyes. “Quite the racket.” 

You feel your heart swelling annoyingly in your chest. 

It doesn’t escape you that he could have staged this whole thing just to pull at your heartstrings. And yet…you don’t think so, even if only just because you don’t want to. 

With a low rumble in his chest he backs you against the car with a step into your personal space. “Still think I’m a bad man, bunny?”

“Maybe,” you answer with a little smile, craning your neck to look up at him.

This earns you a bark of laughter and the glitter of dark enjoyment in his eyes; he’s so beautiful it’s intoxicating, a spreading warmth like pure opium rushing through your limbs, straight to your brain–and your loins. You are not thinking clearly, as your hands slide to rest on the flat of his chest. 

You do not care as much as you should, that one way or another, you’re being bamboozled by this dangerous man. 

“Smart girl.” 

He ducks down to claim his prize, his soft lips pressing to yours. You feel like you’re floating, and you decide that at least for today, you don’t care that you must have lost your sense of self-preservation somewhere back on Tai Tam Road. 

***

By the time you make it back to the underground garage tucked neatly under Donaka’s house, you are feeling warm, and pliable, as though you drank too much too fast, or maybe you’re just overdosing on dopamine. You can’t put your finger on it just yet, but later you will look back and realize that after living in fear for so long, this day of reprieve must have done something considerable to your brain chemistry. 

You’ve never actually been in the garage, and you look around curiously at the array of sports cars in every color. It’s like a museum, every vehicle staged on the high polished floor with its own dramatic lighting. There’s the white Lamborghini you so loathe, a deep blue Bugatti, a burnt orange McLaren, a sporty little Porsche, a BMW something or other, and many others you have no clue as to their identities. 

None of the four-wheeled vehicles catch your eye the way a smaller machine does in the corner.  

“Is that…a motorcycle?” you ask, peering past a beetle-black Mercedes.  

Donaka nods slowly, watching you with some amusement. “Yes.” 

“Do you ride?”

“No, I just like looking at it,” he quips with a smirk. 

Turd.

Just when you thought he couldn't get any more attractive, he goes and pulls this.

You bite your lip, gauging how much you dare ask of him today. “Will you take me for a ride sometime?” 

He chuckles at you, that sparkle of mischief in his polished onyx eyes. You can tell he is narrowly resisting the urge to make a dirty joke. You think he spares you only because you made it too easy. 

“Hmm. Maybe.” He ducks down to kiss you, speaking against your mouth, “If you’re good.” 

“I’m feeling…very good,” you admit brazenly, fancying (perhaps stupidly) that you are safe, and just maybe, a little bit, in love. Your hands slide under his suit jacket, exploring his solid torso as you pull him closer to you. He does you one better, crowding you back against the Bugatti, pressing you into the machine’s hard carapace with his body against yours. 

It should hurt, but there's something to be said for dopamine poisoning. Rather than protest you melt, yielding unto him like putty in his hands. When he withdraws to look down at you his pupils are blown wide, black as a shark’s, and you know he could eat you in one bite. Yet there is a warmth therein no killing machine of the ocean could ever manage; it lodges your heart in your throat. 

“Come on.” He tugs you towards the elevator, and you follow dumbly like the lovesick little idiot you are. 

You can tell he’s trying to take you back to the bedroom, but you can’t stop kissing each other, and the progress is slow. It’s as though the good food and the sun-filled day have cast a cloyingly sweet spell upon the two of you; the world moves in syrupy slow motion, and he kisses you in the hall, pressing you up against the wall, and in the living room against the couch, and at the foot of the stairs, the banister biting into the small of your back as he bends you over with his ardor, his strong hands squeezing your curves like he has all the time in the world to enjoy you. His passion is slow and inevitable as the crashing sea; gladly you withstand these waves of affection, knowing that later you will be bruised and sore and sated as a happy housecat dozing in a sunbeam. 

When you nearly trip over your sky-high shoes on the first stair he sweeps you up into his arms, carrying you back to his lair like you are some rarified prize. In a way, deep down, you can’t help but feel like you have somehow duped this man. For some reason he thinks you are special, that you are a covetable little treasure that he must guard for his own. Surely he will come to his senses at some point…but for now? 

For now, you feel like a queen, as he seats himself on the edge of the bed with you cradled in his lap, tasting you like your lips are his favorite sweet. You giggle and moan as he tips you back onto the bed, falling onto you, utterly engulfing you from above as he pins you with kisses. You know, deep down, that it’s madness on your part that this makes you feel more protected than captured–reality is a tenuous thing, when you are drowning in such a cocktail of lust and love, a lethal dose delivered straight to your bloodstream every time Donaka’s lips touch yours. 

That mouth, so terrible and beautiful, the source of his lies and so much of his power over you, leaves a trail of fire down your skin, from your neck to your chest, his sharp teeth scraping maddeningly at the swell of your breast. His hand beneath your skirts finds your pretty silk panties soaked. 

Ruined. 

You’re absolutely ruined for him, and you don’t know what to do about it that won’t feel like cutting out some crucial part of yourself that you need to live. 

If this is all a trick…you’ll die. 

You’re certain it’s that simple, and you feel yourself surrendering to him with a new degree of foolish abandon. As though he senses this shift in you he draws back to look you in the eye, sweeping your hair tenderly behind your ear with a hand so large it could engulf the entirety of your face. It could hurt you, bend you, break you…you’ve been waiting for it all along, deep down, but instead he is touching you like you really are precious to him, and dear God it’s so unfair you could expire in his arms. 

You expect him to pay you one of those panty-melting smirks that equally makes you want to do violence and melt into his arms. Yet what he offers you is ten times more crippling: his smile is slight, but all warmth, and even while that voice in the back of your head chants stupid girl, stupid girl, you stupid girl!--the rest of you is putty in his hands. 

You watch him with fascination as he sinks to his knees beside the bed, sliding your damp panties slowly down your thighs. “I’ve been thinking about getting under this pretty skirt all fucking day,” he tells you with a searing heat in his dark eyes, before he utterly wrecks you with his lips and his tongue upon your needy, aching cunt. He brings you to the edge of release before withdrawing with one last teasing lick, and through your complaints you are vaguely able to think: there’s the sadist I know. It’s almost a relief, to find yourself in familiar territory, off balance but in a far more familiar way. 

It lasts for less than a minute, as you lay back and watch him undress, divesting himself of his beautiful suit that almost made him seem like a completely different man. You bite your lip hard enough to make yourself bleed, voracious for the sight of the dark god beneath those deceptively light-colored clothes. 

Drawn like a moth to the flame, you push yourself to the edge of the bed, pulling him to you, to your greedy mouth and tongue that craves the salty pearls of precum gleaming upon the tip of his erection. You lap them up like your prize, swallowing him down before taking him deeper into your mouth, your tongue teasing that thick and throbbing vein. He lets you have your way, his long fingers tangled in your hair as you bob upon him at the pace you’ve learned he loves. 

There is foolish triumph in your veins, when you glance up to see his head thrown back in abandon; this powerful man completely unguarded, for you. Only for you, or at least, that’s what you tell yourself. 

If it’s a lie–you don’t want to know the truth. 

Not yet. Maybe…not ever.  

***

He makes love to you agonizingly slow, his beautiful cock buried so deep inside you that you swear to feel him in your lungs. His blackholes for eyes fix upon yours, inevitably, inexorably, drawing you into him, consuming you body and soul. His bare skin pressed to yours, your legs locked around his narrow hips, inviting him deeper, deeper, until there is no line between you or him. 

If it is a mind-fuck, it is the most skillfully executed deception in the history of man. 

The alternative is almost just as terrifying. You go to pieces together like that, inextricably entwined, his name on your lips like a prayer. He fills you with his hot seed, his face buried in the bend of your neck and his teeth in your shoulder, his iron grip bruising your soft skin–marking you as his everywhere and every way he can.

all chapters

[pocketgalaxies]

sucks that beau seems to hate laudna. they have so much in common with this ep and the 95-96 eps of c3

tea! yeah it's sad bc i think that dynamic could've been rly fun but 1) marisha absolutely did not have her head screwed on straight enough to pull off a beau/laudna conversation and 2) i think they're both characters that require a significant amount of chipping away and also knowledge of a Lot of backstory to really see and understand all those commonalities, and beau (in this context) would absolutely not entertain laudna's company long enough for them to get to that point dkfjskdjfsd

speaking of which, i actually think it's a little interesting in itself that they weren't able to be on any level to chat with each other. it's a symptom of the fact that they both Present themselves a certain way that is vastly different from the way they are when amongst their closest friends and confidants, and those chosen Presentations are very different from each other. when meeting strangers/new acquaintances, beau is standoffish, rude, blunt, pessimistic. laudna is excessively bubbly and excitable and fills the space with both her body and her voice. extreme opposites. but in private and trusted spaces, they both fall closer to some middle ground. this is different from people like jester, orym, chetney, etc. – people who are more consistent in their behaviors across different social contexts (obviously i'm speaking in relative terms here – everyone is a little different and more vulnerable when they aren't meeting strangers). but that intentional masking of their more authentic (insecure, lonely) selves makes it a lot harder to put them in a space in which they would believably broach those topics with each other. idk i just think they're neat!!

[burr-ell]

Putting Terms on the High Shelf: Main Character Syndrome

As I'm watching C2, one thing I've noticed about Caleb's various sidebars to talk to different people is that he's still very much involving them—the conversations reveal various different priorities not just for Caleb, but for the people he's talking with. Liam's RP is often geared toward encouraging character work out of the other players at the table; it's something you see with Vax early on, and it's very present with Caleb.

So I find the accusations and warnings of Liam having Main Character Syndrome, which started during C1 but really ramped up in C2, to be rather shallow. Look at the contrast between the tables during this:

and this:

In C1x27, Orion adds pressure to the cast's already-frayed nerves with him, compounded from previous incidents of bad behavior, by taking up several minutes of time purely to himself—his only interaction with anyone else at the table is to ask Keyleth for help with alchemy mechanics (fun fact, early Keyleth was into alchemy!). This included:

An attempt to buy 1500 mirrors to build a light array;

A request to his father to send in his home country's army to Whitestone; and

An attempt to combine a fog spell and a sleep spell after being told point blank that it was mechanically impossible

This was all very obviously an attempt to make himself the hero in what is clearly set up to be a Percy-centric arc. (Worth noting, for the record, is that up to this point Percy had actually had very little focus and largely kept himself in the background, while Tiberius had been in focus for most of the show's run up to that point.) Laura snarks that he's like the giant eagles in Lord of the Rings and can just do everything, and if you actually watch the clip that I've giffed above, Travis's tone is genuinely aggravated. This, by the way, is all after Tiberius was notably not present for Percy revealing his backstory to the rest of the party in episode 24; while everyone else voiced concerns for him and went down to his workshop to check on him, Tiberius largely ignored this and went off to do his own business.

That is a selfish player. That is selfish behavior and a clear example of someone who thinks the story should revolve around them. There are several reasons Orion was asked to leave, not just because he fudged his dice rolls.

C2x62 is a completely different story. None of the conversations Caleb has within that episode are just a way for Caleb to gain information; he's engaging with what the other people are doing. When he asks Nott and Jester about the letter they wrote to Astrid, he reveals a little about himself—something he is particularly reluctant to do with Jester—and they are given an opportunity to respond. His conversation with Beau gives time for both of them to check in on each other and where they're at and lets Beau give her own perspective on the politics of the Empire, the Cobalt Soul, and Xhorhas. The discussion with Fjord lets them both level with each other a little and does more work for Fjord's character, letting him open up about his insecurities and issues, than it does for Caleb's. Caleb is still initiating these conversations and he still gets something out of them, but both the players and the audience still get the benefit of the other characters pushing and pulling against that in response.

Like many terms that get thrown around in this circle ("player agency", "manipulating", "metagaming", "going dark", to name a few), Main Character Syndrome has been so misconstrued and warped to fit a heavily biased perspective as to be almost meaningless. Main Character Syndrome is not when a character initiates a lot of conversations, even if you personally don't like the conversations for whatever reason. Main Character Syndrome is not when a character chooses to take a risk or push a big red button, even if you personally don't like the choice for whatever reason. Main Character Syndrome is not when a character has an arc or aspect of lore heavily focused on them, even if you personally don't like the character for whatever reason. (Particularly considering that arc focus is entirely out of the player's control; Taliesin, Liam, and Laura did not in fact force Matt to focus a significant portion of each campaign's lore on Percy, Caleb, or Imogen's backstories respectively.)

Main Character Syndrome is specifically about player selfishness—it's a player inserting their character into scenes or roles where they do not logically belong in order to make them the center of the story, as we see with the example of Tiberius. The camaraderie at the current table versus what was going on back in 2015 does not suggest that anyone currently sees anyone else like that; everyone is laughing at the jokes made at someone's expense, and everyone is getting something to do. Your favorite character may not always be flashy or in focus all the time, but then again, you wouldn't want them to have Main Character Syndrome, would you?

[feathersandpen]

Okay, here we go again. What did we see? Was it a fever dream? Everyone who was there for the world tour is not surprised at all by this. Even though I didn't think we'll have another occasion to witness that.

I watched the red carpet live, and let me tell you—I was so giddy when Luke and Nic arrived a few minutes apart. I was absolutely down bad for Luke’s look and completely mesmerized by Nic’s. They were the stars of this red carpet; everyone wanted a piece of them. Even the interviewers were gagged by their unhinged behavior.

To be honest, I didn’t expect a red carpet reunion; I wasn’t expecting joint interviews either. If they wanted to untangle everything around them, they could have just taken a few pictures together, a few with the whole cast. Done, easy, nothing to talk about. To be totally fair, I was expecting Antonia on the red carpet with Luke. It made the most sense after the Boss event and the BAFTA after-party. Again, I’m a low-key, not very vocal Lukola shipper, but I really think Luke is with Antonia, and I truly believe she was in LA with him. Why she wasn’t shown at the SAG Awards remains a mystery to me. I can understand why Luke wants to keep this relationship under the radar after what went down last year. But keeping her locked in a hotel room when he could have at least brought her to the after-party makes it seem like he’s trying to hide her. Sweet Luke, this is a messy thing you’re trying to do.

I know what you’re thinking: Why is she talking about this under this tag? What the hell is she trying to prove? Sorry, I needed a little introduction to my long demonstration.

So here’s what I think about this. I think that when they say they’re friends, they genuinely believe it’s true. Friendship can be the strongest bond two people can have when it’s full of respect and trust. And I think they have that. But for me, it doesn’t fully define their relationship—or at least, not the entire spectrum of it. And that’s the tricky part.

They’re friends, they’re colleagues, they see each other every day, and they’ve spent two years of their lives attached at the hip for filming and the press tour. So why do we witness such unhinged behavior from them again and again? Because underneath their not-so-straightforward statements, there’s something lingering. Something you cannot say, something that cannot be addressed, but also something that cannot be ignored.

I’m not going to dwell on the why—I have no idea. It could be a multitude of reasons. But the way they act around each other is so telling. They’re so happy to be together. They said they were filming, but they act like it’s been a zillion years since they last saw each other. It’s like every moment they spend together has to be memorable. Like they’ve lost control over how they behave, and they just want to make the most of it. The more I try to make sense of this, the more I realize this is the only way to understand those moments. When you have lingering feelings for someone, when you can’t be with that person, every time you see them has to be the best. That’s why Luke is yapping about her (favorite moment: him calling her “our fearless leader.” This was supposed to be his season—he’s the Bridgerton one—but he lets her shine. Because, as Nic has already said a few times now, “He has no ego.” I think that’s when I started giggling in my bed uncontrollably). That’s why her eyes lit up when she saw him on the red carpet. That’s why he had to interrupt her interview. That's why they have no sense of personal space , just being so close to each oher all the damn time, not wasting a moment together. This can’t be stopped—it’s like a mystical force pulling them toward each other.

I really and dearly hope they can sort this out—for themselves and for the people around them. A situation like this can be tricky to navigate. I don’t have any right to tell them what they should do or who they should be with, but something like this—a bond like this—could be a beautiful thing to explore. The only thing I know is that, whether it's friendship, something more, or something else altogether, they love each other so much. I'm grateful they're willing to share that with us and allow us to witness just a little piece of that love.

[mdr-mardek]

Hey yall!

I usually don't post about CR ships but I think with the Mighty Nein being introduced and played by the cast in C3 it feels important to clear some things out. I'll try to be as objective as possible.

Beau and Yasha. I've seen some people saying that their comment of them hating each other when they met felt like a retcon from what actually happen in C2. As you probably know, C3 ep 111 was hard for the players as they had to play two VERY different characters simultaneously. So keeping tracks of ALL the lore of BOTH characters at the same time is almost impossible and it's almost certain that some players will misremember some things that happened 6 years ago. We're all human folks, not machines!

I've also seen some people saying that Beau and Yasha are only reduced to sex. I mean, we're talking about the Mighty Nein, probably one of the two horniest party on Exandria with Vox Mahcina right now. Only sex? If you've seen the Echoes of the Solstice one shot you'll now that's not true.

In my humble opinion, Beau and Yasha's comment C3E111 that they hated each other when they met is probably a slip up from the Mighty nein animated series. Which tracks because they're full on the production right now and even stated doing voice recordings back in June 2024 here's the Tweet. And as we also know, if it is like TLoVM, the Mighty Nein animated series will be its own canon and Critical Role will still use the campaign as the main core lore canon.

Edit: In the last 4-Sided Dive, Dani Carr talked about Beau's behavior towards new people she met. Beau saying that her and Yasha hated each other when they met was in fact a wall Beau put in front as she doesn't want people she barely know to know such personal things. Beau's all work is seeking out corruption with the Cobalt Soul, of course she's going to be wary of the people she meeets, she only has to rely on the Mighty Nein, her found family. I thought I might had here since it brings another perspective in all of this.

[tellmerp]

hiiiiii narrated / alana /1985628 beaucoup here to bring you that attention you so desperately want. my name must taste so fucking good on that mouth hole of yours girlfriend since you've done nothing but lick it up and choke on it for the last month and some change. https://imgur.com/a/oD5CPzo i know it's probably hard to understand since you like to go around touting that degree you got for .. what was it again ..? editing ..? despite your edits being mid, at best. https://imgur.com/a/7b8SqQR what i really think you should've gone to college for is reading comprehension, so i'm going to keep it really simple for you, okay, sweetheart ..? i'm very unsure of why you're so mad since last i checked you were going to delete all the fake bitches off your list anyway https://imgur.com/a/9TP4HQU maybe it's just because i did all that hard labor for you before you got the chance to that twists those panties into knots, who knows, but you're not even vaguely threatening to me. in fact you're boring, the second you stop being so loud and annoying i forget your existence entirely that's how little our two days worth of conversation meant to me. you're trying so hard to punch up, or down, or whichever way your mama taught you, but you're swinging and missing i'm surprised you arms aren't tired. ain't nobody mad over here .. trust me we just stay laughing. i hope you enjoy all those profile pictures of mine you keep stealing to make your lovely fan pages even though i have you blocked on all the lackluster pages i know are yours. sorry you couldn't swallow my e-dick, babes. i know it's hard to be on the outside of the beau & co. by the way, you dropped these, you know, the reason why we over here decided to keep our distance from you when your boyfriend decided to add 12 strangers into a group dm to threaten and harass my girl foxy. https://imgur.com/a/xMIKDAh and if you still can't understand why that was necessary to do so, there's no helping you. i mean, clearly there's no helping you anyway given your woe-is-me i'm queen shit look at me on my pedestal behavior the last month and a half. wait, hold on .. i don't understand, was it your boyfriend that pays for everything .. or is it you with that editing job you got ..? i forget. it's hard to keep up when the narrative always changes ... anyway ...! thanks for all the inspo for some really stellar emojis me and my friends enjoy. go back to being irrelevant. ciao. kiss, kiss ! -- your #1 obsession 🖤

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

this morning I mentioned an au where Beau is taken in by the Ermundruds and here are some more of my thoughts...

Beau is about eight years old when she runs away from home. Somehow (doesn't matter) she makes it to Blumenthal. Una sees her one day when she's shopping in town and of course she offers this cold, dirty child a warm meal and a bed.

Caleb is only a few years away from being scouted by Trent (I made their age gap a little smaller).

At first Beau is very scared because she doesn't speak the language and she doesn't want them to hurt her or send her back to her parents.

Caleb translates between her and her parents, but slowly she starts to catch onto the language. Once Beau figures out that they're not going to make her leave, she gets more comfortable.

Una loves having a daughter and Beau loves being loved like a daughter should.

When Caleb leaves for the academy, Beau makes him promise to write to her. Over time, his letters get more and more strange. She's worried about him and starts to keep notes about what she notices.

Beau is thirteen when Caleb comes home from break with Astrid and Eadwulf. She can tell something is wrong immediately, he isn't acting like himself. She fills pages in her journal about his behavior.

Then the house is set on fire.

Beau is upstairs when it starts, she hears Una and Leofric shouting and she runs down to them. With the doors and windows blocked, she's almost certain they're going to burn alive.

Leofric manages to pry the window open just enough to get Beau out. He forces her outside, promising that they'll be right behind her.

When she goes outside, she sees Caleb on his knees screaming, his schoolmates standing over him. She understands what he did.

Beau runs into the woods, she runs and runs and runs. And eventually she finds solace at the Cobalt Soul and starts her mission to figure out what the fuck happened to her brother at the academy.

[yanoverload]

Not sure if this has been asked yet but I'll still ask, what would Ramune do if his darling tried to avoid him and even try to get rid of him? Perhaps they find his presence to be too much, or perhaps they don't like his bratty behavior, or maybe... They just simply don't want an incubus as a friend or even possible partner(it's not very likely that they consider him a partner though if they're trying to get rid of him). They're doing everything to try to get rid of him, from buying random charms and potions off shady sites and businesses, to even going as far as to possibly try to get someone to buy him off of them. Point is, they want him gone. Permanently.

That's the scary thing about Ramune, you were his first. So he will never leave you

Most succubus and incubus wouldn't care to go back to the witch that taught them, but Ramune is different.

You think Beau or Dae-ho are insane? you haven't seen a hysterical yan. The first moment Ramune smells your distaste towards him he would drug you with his own pheromones slowly, you barely notice how much you miss him, didn't you hate him?

You want to try magic? HAH! You underestimate his race. He could just seduce a stronger witch to make it worthless. You can't run from him by feet either, one bat of his eyelashes and his richer fans would be after you.

Just let him be your baby boy! He will do what you ask, just no leaving, ehe~

[salarta]

I'm deliberately not tagging this because this is so much of my own typing out thoughts and not wanting to cause problems for wronged people that don't want to be put out there in relation to what I'm saying.

One of the things I learned of overnight with Neil Gaiman is how he completely ripped off Tanith Lee for Sandman and gave her no credit. He brazenly took her creativity not simply as inspiration but wholesale without proper attribution. And it's only now getting a lot of recognition, decades later, after Tanith is already dead. There's also been points made of how Gaiman's given credit to male authors as inspiration, but not women.

Sandman is a comic book series. And as I was wrapping my head around that this morning, I remembered another situation within comics.

X-Men, House of X, Jonathan Hickman, and the multiple lives concept for Moira.

When the issue with that concept came out, an author publicly noted that the concept was eerily similar to a book they had published. Hickman gave no attribution to that author, no note of having been inspired by their work. If I remember correctly, Hickman denied any such connection. The author never said they were going to sue Hickman, or dragged him on main, or anything like that. They just left a passing "This is eerily like my work that I got published."

Now, I haven't looked at that author's book for comparisons. I don't know how similar they actually are. Depending on the level of similarity, it's not like the basic concept is impossible for someone else to also think of.

But here's the real thing that's getting me most right now.

I used to post on CBR. This all happened in 2019. And you know what I saw as the reaction of the vast majority of people on that board?

Badmouthing and smearing the author for daring to suggest that Hickman maybe hadn't been a special perfect boy who came up with the idea all on his lonesome.

There were people on CBR claiming the author was just looking for an excuse to get money from Hickman. People claiming the author was just trying to "ride his coattails" to get name recognition. People were going to the author's Wikipedia article just to make horrible edits attacking their character, and sending abuse their way.

All of this, because as hardcore X-Men and comic book fans, they were so, SO desperate, to bury this other author and ruin their reputation to "protect" Hickman and his plans for the X-Men comics.

And Hickman didn't condemn that behavior. To my knowledge, he still hasn't. He let it ride.

As a Polaris fan, so much of my focus has been on how Polaris, specifically, has been wronged by Marvel, and by male writers and editors in particular. The inherent sexism of how she's been treated across decades, the resistance to any actual, real, meaningful change toward the positive. The deep-seated need by editors like Jordan White insisting Lorna only won the X-Men vote because of Gifted, or Tom Brevoort going out of his way to try and remove Polaris from the Magnus family before the Axis retcon on Wanda and Pietro came down.

I've said before that Marvel is incredibly regressive and sexist wherever they can get away with it. They put spotlights on characters like Jean Grey, or Storm, or Emma Frost, or Captain Marvel to be able to say they're progressive and great, while sticking characters like Polaris into the role of supporting character for Havok and other men. Often depicted as incompetent about things she learned decades ago. Or incapable of protecting herself so Havok or some other guy needs to rescue her. Or just plain cutting whole swaths of her history out wholesale, like pretending she wasn't a victim of the Genoshan genocide.

It's an issue not just applying to editors either. When Beau DeMayo made X-Men 97, he took everything about Lorna as a survivor of the Genoshan genocide and handed it off to Rogue, while relegating Lorna to "Havok's girlfriend on X-Factor" and nothing else.

There is a thread of sexism that still runs very rampant through comic books. My focus when talking about most of it has been on treatment of fictional characters. Lack of respect for a narrative when a woman like Polaris is the one who has it.

But the sexism problem is much bigger than just character treatment. And it transcends any one company. Gaiman's sexism with Sandman happened through publishing Sandman at DC. The X-Men fandom sexism in attacking an author for DARING to suggest Hickman took someone else's idea without credit happened with Marvel.

There's a reason ComicsGate was the second most successful of the bullshit abusive male led "gate" things that went on a decade ago. I saw those assholes try to sneak their sexism and misogyny into other areas, like horror films and the metal music genre. They failed, because both saw the attempts for what they were and gave a hearty "fuck you" to the assholes.

ComicsGate garnered the level of success it did because the biggest players in the industry are sexist as fuck, and so are the hardcore fans of those biggest players. Though they take pains to create myths for themselves of not being sexist because they have specific women and female characters they're willing to do some good things for.

I never really got much into comic books until I learned of Polaris. And I think I know why. Even though video games have their own horribly sexist and misogynistic problems, there are TONS of developers and publishers that are big and successful. I'm able to avoid Capcom content and still enjoy video games cause there's other options besides Capcom.

But comics? DC and Marvel are the two biggest players in the field. You have to put a lot more effort into finding work you like in comics outside of those two. And the sexism and misogyny is very deeply ingrained. Even when they say they're doing stuff to be progressive, they then try to play on nostalgia for decades ago push very regressive views and treatment of characters to play on that nostalgia. At Marvel, moreso for X-Men than any other property.

I think that wraps up this post.