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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy

Summary: Spencer's gay. He joins the BAU and befriends the team, but it is 2003. It's a secret he has to keep. He just didn't expect it to be this hard.

Tags: gay!spencer, coming out, hurt/comfort, insecure!spencer, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, dad hotch, protective!hotch, protective!derek, childhood trauma TW: one instance of explicit homophobia, but it is referenced a lot, as is Spencer's internalised homophobia at the start of this fic. A shit ton of heteronormativity but tbh that's just canon lol

Pairing: Spencer Reid/OMC, Spencer Reid & Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid & Aaron Hotchner, The BAU Team & Spencer Reid

Word Count: 6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Consider this my contribution to pride month 😌 I've waited so long to post it and I'm so glad I'm finally doing it because it's definitely one of my all time favourites <3 Gideon is here somewhere but just like with all my early season fics he's not really part of the plot I combined my moreid and gen taglists bc it was hard to know the audience for this, but just ignore it if you're not interested!

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn’t do, because you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore. — richard siken, a primer for the small weird loves

Spencer has only told one person in his whole life.

His mother guessed. For as long as he can remember, she’s used gender neutral pronouns when talking about his future partner, read him all the gay literature she could find, promised him that he’s perfect just the way he is.

The trouble is that Spencer only believes her until the first grade, when Ryan Sampson shoves him over in the playground and calls him gay. His mom had only ever used that term in a sweet, loving way, taking care to associate such words with positivity, as long as his dad wasn’t around to hear. When that word comes out of Ryan Sampson’s mouth, it is not said with sweetness and love; it is said with venom, and Spencer learns quickly that his mom is wrong. He is not perfect just the way he is.

And so, he keeps it a secret. When his mom notices him getting uncomfortable at the mention of future partners, she stops bringing it up, though she refuses to give up the diverse education she provides for him outside of school. His dad tells him that one day he’ll be a strapping young man and marry a nice girl in a church, and Spencer nods along. He ignores the way his stomach turns with anxiety at the thought. Ignores the screaming match his parents have that night. Ignores the fact that it started because Diana chipped in with ‘or boy’.

He’s in high school by the time he’s twelve, and the only part he’s grateful for is the absence of pressure to get a girlfriend. His dad’s out of the picture now, and Spencer tries not to let himself think that maybe if he wasn’t like this he might have stayed. Diana’s so out of it most days that she doesn’t remember what she noticed about him when he was a child, only recalling the last few years of shoving himself so far back in the closet he can hardly see the door anymore.

It feels like he’s lost his last ally.

(He hates that a small part of him feels relieved she doesn’t remember; that he almost feels assured by the fact that the last person to know who he really is has forgotten. There is only this version of Spencer Reid now. No other exists.)

He makes the mistake during his second undergraduate degree. He’s just turned eighteen but he is already a doctor and, fortunately, this alienates him from most of his peers, but someone manages to slide past his defences. Ethan Miller is twenty, in the second year of his (first) undergraduate degree in Chemical Engineering, and he’s nice. Spencer doesn’t have a lot of experience with friendship, but they get on well and Ethan makes him laugh. For the first time, he feels comfortable in the presence of anyone other than his mother.

They slip into an easy friendship: waiting for each other after class — Spencer back in the undergraduate buildings now he has his first PhD under his belt — and going out for ice cream and pizza and Thai food. Ethan goes to parties while Spencer studies, and then they reconvene to watch Doctor Who and play cards.

For almost a year, Spencer keeps his secret carefully locked up, hidden behind the mask he’s perfected after so many years. Even though he’s eighteen, nearly nineteen now, he doesn’t try and explore that side of himself. No, that’s far too risky. He doesn’t try and pretend any other way either, he just stays silent and lets people’s assumptions lie for him, but he can’t help the longing that claws up his throat when he locks eyes with a passing guy on campus. One time, he’d seen two men kiss on a bench in the city, and he’d run back to his dorm and had a panic attack. Why couldn’t he have that?

The feelings don’t stop, and he doesn’t know how to make them. He hates that he isn’t normal, but still longs for the touch of a man, the feeling of being wrapped up in strong arms, of being kissed by dry, chapped lips, and falling asleep to a heartbeat approximately 11% slower than that of a woman’s.

It’s a constant battle inside him, emotions raging, and he struggles to control it, suppress it, tame it.

He pays a sorry price.

Ethan makes him feel comfortable, and that turns out to be a detriment. He relaxes around the other boy: he tells him about growing up as a pre-teen in a high school, about how a child feels living 260 miles away from home, even about his mother’s illness.

And one day, it slips out. They’re on the beach, lying on towels as they look up at the blue sky, talking about what their futures will look like: Ethan will be a successful chemical engineer in Berlin, and Spencer will work for the FBI, profiling serial killers.

“You’ll have to marry a German girl,” he tells Ethan. “It’ll be tough to convince an American girl to move all the way to Germany as soon as you graduate.”

“Yeah, and what about you? You’ll be off fighting crime around the country, not much of a life for a family.”

“Oh, I imagine my husband will be the type to—”

“Husband?”

Spencer freezes. It shocks him as much as it shocks Ethan. He doesn’t even pay much attention to Ethan’s disgusted face and his outraged tirade. He hears slurs and insults, hears him say that he can’t believe Spencer tricked him like this, that he was probably waiting to make a move on him, that he was never to look in Ethan’s direction again, but Spencer is frozen in time.

He’s never allowed him to think much about what his personal life might look like in the future, but he’d said ‘husband’ on instinct, without thinking, and it’s clearly something he actually wants. Ethan’s words sting, but the moment brings about a realisation Spencer is thankful for; it instigates a journey of self-discovery and self-expression, of the joy of living as your true self.

He loses his first and only friend, but he gains something much more valuable. He visits gay bars — nervously sipping a non-alcoholic drink in the corner at first, before soon becoming confident enough to respond to the men who sidle up to him and ask for his name. He lets go and dances the night away, sometimes going home with one of the many dance partners he acquires during the night, sometimes heading back to his own dorm happily alone.

Makeup and dresses and skirts and heels make their way into his wardrobe, and he befriends girls and drag queens and other gay men who encourage him to be exactly the way he is. And the best part is, he never has to come out to any of them. All of them know, and that’s good enough for everyone.

The fun comes to a sad sort of slow, however, when he joins the BAU. Everyone knows law enforcement’s relationship with the LGBT community is less than adequate — Spencer’s seen it with his own eyes: butch lesbians and men in dresses getting roughed up by angry police officers for ‘lewd behaviour’ or ‘drunkenness’ when they’re just being themselves. It’s not safe for him to tell anyone, so he doesn’t.

He still goes out with his friends when he’s in town and wears makeup and dresses and crop tops when he’s at home, but presents as rigidly straight Dr Spencer Reid to his team at the BAU.

The hardest part about it is that he loves his team. He’s known Gideon for years — and he wouldn’t be surprised if he suspects something after coming over to his house unannounced one night, only to have a man other than Spencer open the door — but he settles into a comforting dynamic with Hotch. He can’t help but see him as something of a father figure, and he knows Hotch has a soft spot for him, always looking out for him and taking him under his wing without a moment’s hesitation.

Elle, JJ, and Penelope all take a shine to him, too, teasing him without a hint of malice in their tones, only the kind of playful kindness that reminds him of his mother. He forms a special bond with Penelope and they spend hours watching Doctor Who together and geeking out on all the areas their interests overlap, and the comfort he feels with her matches the comfort he’s found with his new group of queer friends.

(She doesn’t hold a candle to Ethan, he decides one night, after he’d cried at a movie she’d made him watch and she felt so bad she made him hot chocolate and jam toast and cuddled him until he felt better.)

Derek becomes a brother to him. He puts him in a headlock at least once a day — which Spencer has been reliably informed by multiple sources is a very brotherly thing to do — and teases him relentlessly, while simultaneously being fiercely protective of him. Enough so, that Spencer sometimes wonders if he even has Hotch beat in that department.

He loves his team and his team loves him. It should be simple. It is still 2003.

He comes in one morning late for a briefing, his shirt buttoned wrong and his hair is a mess, and he’s fairly sure that his attempt to cover the hickey at the base of his neck with concealer has been ultimately unsuccessful. It’s obvious why he’s late. Gideon is too engrossed in the case file to notice, but Hotch raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face as everyone else immediately takes to teasing him.

“Who’s the lucky lady, pretty boy?”

Elle raises an eyebrow to match Derek’s shit-eating grin, “Someone definitely got some strange last night.”

“When do we get to meet her, Spence?” JJ asks, smirking as he takes a seat.

He’s bright red — as if he needed to look any more debauched — and Spencer tries to ignore the hurt that seizes his chest at the reminder of his need to stay quiet. This team respects him, and he can’t throw that away just because Spencer gets too comfortable.

God, he wishes Penelope was here.

“None of your business,” he mutters, trying to keep his tone light. He fails.

Naturally, Hotch notices and swiftly moves the briefing on, and Spencer keeps his gaze locked on the case file, not missing the absence of a reprimand from his superior. He’s constantly thankful for the older man, but in this moment, he wishes he could hug him.

(A voice that sounds dangerously close to Ethan’s rises up and taunts him in his ear: he wouldn’t want a dirty homo like you anywhere near him—)

Derek doesn’t let up on the case, continuing to bug him about the special lady in his life. He does concede that it could’ve been a one night stand, which is one front he’s right on, but a couple more concessions are necessary before Derek comes close to the truth of last night.

Eventually, Derek stops, and Spencer notes that the cessation of comments comes suspiciously close to the last time Derek and Hotch were alone together. He doesn’t have it in him to feel angry at Hotch for stepping in when he had it handled; doesn’t have the energy to act as though his pride is wounded, because really, neither of those things are true, and he doesn’t need to add another item to ‘Spencer Reid’s List of Things He Pretends to Be.’

The situation is forgotten, and time moves on.

Things change when he finds his first proper boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the giddying rush of emotions it turns out to be, and Spencer spends his days smiling as he daydreams his time away.

His name is Oscar Wilkins, a History professor at Georgetown University, and Spencer falls quickly in love with him. Ever since their mutual friend had introduced them at a gay bar one evening, they’d spent all their free time together. He’s kind and gentle and understanding of Spencer’s hectic and unpredictable job, and he finally has the chance to experience everything he quietly and shamefully longed for as a teenager.

The only downside is the silent breaking of Spencer’s heart that the most important people in his life can’t meet his boyfriend. He longs to show Oscar off, to hold hands in front of his team, lean up to press a tender kiss to Oscar’s lips. He wants to put a framed picture of the two of them at the Washington Monument on his desk to remind him of why he needs to get through the hard days; he doesn’t want to have to sneak out of the hotel room he shares with Derek to whisper hushed, loving goodnights over the phone.

But he’s too scared. Too cowardly.

It’s different being who he is with his gay group of friends littered with wlws and drag queens and other gay and bisexual guys. They understand.

But Derek and Hotch are two extremely masculine, alpha men: Derek’s a ladies’ man and Hotch is married to a woman he met in college with a baby on the way and both have a strong and dominant energy that still sometimes manages to intimidate Spencer even after all these years. And Elle and JJ are lovely — some of his closest friends, really — but sometimes they remind him a little too much of the mean girls he went to high school with.

The hardest person to keep his secret from, though, is Penelope. She’s his best friend and he desperately wants to give her all of him, but he’s so scared. He’s lost a best friend to this secret before, and even though he’s certain she’d be fine with it, what if she accidentally let it slip to Derek? What if Hotch found out and didn’t see him in the same light anymore? What if the girls started teasing him? What if Gideon didn’t want to mentor him anymore?

The fear paralyses him. And it’s a cycle he doesn’t know how to break.

Fear, though, doesn't stop everyone from noticing his daydreaming, his dopey smile when he checks his messages, his urgency to get home where he would’ve stayed until the small hours of the morning before. As excellent as he is at hiding his sexuality, he’s fucking terrible at hiding the fact that he’s in love: it was easy enough to pretend he was straight, but hiding something this all-consuming is an impossible ask.

Derek comes over to perch on the edge of his desk one afternoon, sighing as he sits down. “Pretty boy, this is getting ridiculous,” he says, snatching Spencer’s attention away from his phone. “You’ve been grinning like an idiot for the last twenty minutes as you’ve texted Future Mrs Reid. When are we going to meet her?”

(He hates the new nickname the team has given his mystery significant other, although Oscar had found it hilarious. “It’s funny because when we get married, we’ll hardly be able to tell,” he’d argued through his laughter. “Neither of us will change our name because of our academic profiles, and we’ll both still be ‘Dr’. Our wedding rings will be the only indicator.”

Spencer hadn’t argued back, because he’d been too tongue-tied and flushed pink at Oscar’s use of ‘when’ in regards to their hypothetical nuptials. It was only made bearable by Oscar kissing him gently and tucking him under his arm, not embarrassing him any further as Spencer had sort of anticipated, warmth settling over his chest at the thought of their future together.)

“You won’t,” he replies, perhaps a little too curtly.

Derek starts at that, clearly not expecting it. He definitely should’ve tried to play it off as a joke. “What— should I be offended, pretty boy?”

You wouldn’t call me that if you knew who I really am.

“That’s up to you, Derek,” he says calmly, although he still can’t meet his eyes, “but you won’t meet the ‘Future Mrs Reid, so I think it would probably be best if you left it alone.”

“Damn,” Derek mutters under his breath, clearly pissed off and probably more hurt than Spencer ever intended. “Suit yourself.”

And with that, he gets up and leaves his desk. Spencer’s only solace is the text message he sees on his phone when he picks it back up: I love you so much. You know that, right?

The light-hearted ridicule comes to an abrupt halt after the incident with Derek, and it’s clear that he had been the biggest contributor to the teasing. He’s thankful that the jokes have stopped, but he wishes desperately that it didn’t come with the growing distance between him and his team. Loneliness takes the place of his previous irritated anxiety, and he isn’t sure what’s worse.

It all comes to a head at the end of a case in Michigan. They’re stuck in the lounge of the small inn they’d stayed in the last few days, a snowstorm having blocked them in and grounded the jet, although Gideon had long since retreated to his room. The fire’s going and they’re the only guests around, so it’s cosy enough, but Spencer can’t help but feel sick at the idea of another night away from home.

It’s only been two weeks since he’d snapped at Derek, but the chasm between him and the team is only widening with each passing day. He knows it’s not a case of ‘pick a side’, but the team’s morale relies on light-hearted banter and teasing, and him not being a part of that anymore has only brewed awkwardness. Everyone’s trying to give him space when space is the last thing he wants.

Oscar’s keeping him company over the phone at least, but it’s not quite enough to quell the loneliness swimming around his stomach, and the 'discrete' sideways looks he gets from the team only make him feel worse.

“At least it’s nice and toasty in here,” JJ sighs as she takes a sip of the hot chocolate the kindly inn owner had made for them all.

Elle hums in agreement. “There are worse places to be grounded.”

“I dunno, man, I just wanna get home,” Derek says, not taking his eyes off the fire. Spencer can’t help but agree.

“Oh, come on,” Hotch muses, considerably more jovial now the case is over, “we’re here, and that’s not going to change any time soon. We should make the most of it.”

“It’s at least nice to be somewhere sort-of Christmassy now it’s December,” Elle points out. “We could be stuck in a dingy police station like we probably will be next week.”

“Ooh, I noticed that Jemimah and Kiran started planning the Christmas party last week,” JJ says, smiling at them. “I offered my help, but they seem to have it covered.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow“That’s probably a good thing. You don’t need more work on your plate.”

“Not gonna argue with that,” she murmurs, smiling as she brings her mug to her lips again.

Spencer doesn’t miss that Derek is still stewing on the opposite side of the room.

“Are you looking forward to the Christmas party, Spencer? Will you come?” Hotch asks, clearly trying to rope him into the conversation, which he appreciates. He’s been making a lot of effort with him the past few weeks, and it’s just about the only thing that’s getting him through each day.

Before he can reply, though, Derek erupts from the other side of the room; an already pissed-off man being pushed over the edge. “He won’t even let us meet his fucking girlfriend, Hotch, he’s not gonna want to come to the Christmas party!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air as he glares at Spencer with a stormy expression raging across his face.

Suddenly, Spencer can’t stay silent anymore, and his retort shocks himself just as much as it does everyone else. “I don’t have a girlfriend!”

It might be the loudest he’s ever shouted in his whole life. He’s always been quiet and restrained, the type to state his feelings as calmly as possible no matter how he’s feeling on the inside. Even in the biggest fight he’s had with Oscar, his voice was barely loud enough to qualify as a shout.

There’s a brief stunned silence, but Derek quickly slices his way through it, voice raising to meet Spencer’s fiery emotion, fierce and loud. “Oh, don’t even go there, Reid, you’re really gonna try and argue that? You’re gonna lie about her as well as not let us meet her? What a boyfriend you are.”

“I don’t! I don’t have a girlfriend!” he repeats, voice catching this time as tears rise unbidden to the backs of his eyes and all the emotions of the journey he’s taken with his sexuality over the years flood him in a wave of intensity he’s not prepared for.

“You’re fucking lying—!”

“I have a boyfriend!” he yells. “Alright? I have a boyfriend. I’m gay.”

The anger and emotion quickly dissipates, and he’s left standing alone in front of the team he’s put so much effort into hiding this from, watching shock spell out across everyone’s expressions. He’s never felt smaller than he does in that moment, and he quickly grabs his phone before running upstairs to his room, locking the door behind him.

“Oh God, Oscar, I fucked up so bad,” he cries over the phone as soon as his boyfriend picks up.

“Hey, hey, breathe, baby,” Oscar says gently, but Spencer can hear the anxious concern in his voice, “it’s gonna be okay, I promise. I’m here. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I just— Oh God, I just told the team.” A new wave of horror rolls over him as he realises what he’s done. Times might be changing, but it’s still only 2006, and he doesn’t know each and every nuance of his team members’ political positions and, fuck, he hates that his existence is a fucking political position.

Oscar’s been so understanding of his reluctance to not tell the team, even though Spencer’s met pretty much everyone in his life. He isn’t sure what he’s done to earn such a gracious and understanding boyfriend, but he’s not about to question it.

“Baby, I know it’s scary, and I know you’re really worked up right now,” he counsels, voice soft and reassuring, using the nickname he knows Spencer loves the most to make him feel as safe as he can from 700 miles away, “but it’s probably not as bad as you think. From what you’ve told me about the team, they love you so much, and even in the case that in the past they've had some issue with gay people, I can't imagine they’d ever actually think of you any differently when it comes down to it, Spencer.”

He’s crying too hard to reply, and Oscar understands immediately, gently transitioning into a story about his day that slowly starts to calm him down, and by the time he’s wrapping it up, his tears are starting to subside.

“Thank you, Ozzy,” he whispers into the phone, lifting himself up off the floor and making his way to sit on the bed instead.

“You know I’d do anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmurs warmly. “Do you want me to stay on the phone for a bit?”

“Yes please,” he whispers again, holding it as close to himself as possible, drawing all the comfort he can from his boyfriend’s voice.

He lies there listening to Oscar’s voice and trying not to think about the disaster downstairs for a good ten minutes before there’s a tap at the door.

“Oz, there’s someone here,” he says, voice panicked.

“I think you should probably speak to them, baby,” he urges. “I’ll stay on the phone with you while you do, if you like?”

“Please.” He gets up from the bed gingerly, keeping his phone tightly gripped in his right hand as he slowly unlocks the door with his left, revealing Hotch on the other side.

“Hey, Spencer. Do you mind if I come in?”

He’s riddled with nerves, but Hotch is smiling warmly, and he’s never said a harsh word to Spencer, so he steps aside and lets him into his room.

Hotch quickly notices the phone in his hand, visibly still on a call. “Is that your boyfriend?”

Spencer nods.

“Do you mind if I talk to him?”

His brows knit in confusion and his lips part slightly in surprise, but it’s all he can do to hand the phone over, watching Hotch carefully.

“Hi, Spencer tells me this is his boyfriend?” Hotch inquires politely into the phone, his tone still warm. “I’m Hotch, Spencer’s boss.”

He can vaguely hear Oscar speaking on the other end of the line, and he worries slightly that Oscar will somehow give away the familial feelings he holds for Hotch, but the conversation doesn’t last long enough for the anxiety to really take over.

“Everything’s fine here, I just want to have a conversation with Spencer, so is it alright if we hang up and I talk to him alone for a minute? He can call you straight back afterwards.” After a brief pause in which Oscar says something, Hotch looks back up at him. “Are you okay with that, Spencer?”

He nods hesitantly, and Hotch says a quick goodbye to Oscar before surging forwards and wrapping Spencer in a hug. It catches him off guard, but he doesn’t waste any time in burying his face into Hotch’s neck and soaking in the comfort and warmth that always radiates from his father figure.

“Come on,” Hotch says softly as they pull away a good minute or so later, “let’s sit down, shall we?”

“You’re not mad?” Spencer can’t help but ask, the question burning his tongue as anxiety — however quietened from Hotch’s hug — still swims around in his stomach.

“There are many things that could make me mad, Spencer,” he says earnestly, “but this is not one of them. I would never be angry at you for being who you are, okay? I might… I might be overstepping here, and if I am, then tell me and I’ll back off, but I’ve always seen you as a mentee, and over the years that’s developed— well, I see you more as a son these days. And part of that is wanting to protect and support you no matter what you do or say or who you are.”

Spencer wastes no time in diving back in for a hug, clinging onto Hotch for dear life as he hugs back, rubbing his back gently.

“I’m so sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell us sooner, Spencer,” he says in a voice soft with affection and regret. “But I’m so glad you’ve told us now.”

He only presses closer at that, tears springing back to his eyes. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He knows what he’s implying, and even in a roundabout way, he’s glad he’s telling Hotch.

“Oh, Spence,” he sighs sadly, “you couldn’t do a single thing to lose me. I’m in it for the long haul.”

“Really?” he asks, hating how insecure he sounds.

“Really,” Hotch promises, pulling away as Spencer does. “Now, you have a whole team of agents downstairs who are feeling very sorry for themselves and really want to see you.”

Nausea rolls in his stomach and panic springs back up as he looks at Hotch, desperate for some sort of grounding. “Are they angry at me? Do they hate me now?”

“No one hates you, Spencer,” he says firmly. “I promise you that. Everyone just wishes that they’d made you feel more welcome and comfortable. We all hate that you felt you had to lock up something so integral to who you are, and we can’t help but feel we played a part in it.”

“No,” he protests — the last thing he wants is family blaming themselves when it has nothing to do with them, “it’s not your fault, it’s just…”

Hotch nods. “I understand, it’s okay. Now, do you want to go down and see them? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it might help ease your mind to see that they really don’t hate you.”

Spencer pauses, taking a moment to think. “Can I see Derek first?”

“Of course,” Hotch says understandingly, and the comforting smile that crosses his face makes Spencer feel safe and taken care of. “I’ll send him up?”

Spencer nods and Hotch hugs him once more before leaving the room almost reluctantly. He wastes no time in picking up his phone and sending a text to Oscar. You were right. Hotch is fine. He’s just sending Derek up before I go and see the team but he says that no one’s angry and I think I believe him. Thank you, Oscar. I love you.

Not even half a minute goes past before his phone lights up with a text back. I’m so glad, baby. Call me later, okay? I want to make sure you’re okay before I go to bed. I love you more.

Before Spencer can argue that actually, he is the one more in love with the other, a hesitant knock sounds on his door. Nerves suddenly flip his stomach, and he clenches and unclenches his fists a couple of times before forcing himself to cross the room, revealing a very worried and regretful-looking Derek.

“Oh, pretty boy,” he says sadly, before crushing Spencer in a warm and tender hug. Immediately, he relaxes into the arms of one of his best friends, and relief courses through his blood at Derek’s reaction. “I am so sorry that I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that you were gay or had a boyfriend. That’s completely on me. I don’t care who you love, Spencer, I just want you to be happy, okay? And if this guy makes you happy, then that’s fine by me. But if he ever lays a hand on you or—”

“Derek, Derek,” he laughs, “it’s fine I get it. Thank you, though, I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier and for snapping at you in the bullpen that time…”

“I understand, Spence,” he promises. “It’s in the past, okay? And I’m sorry for pushing so hard. I mean, I’d love to meet him but if you don’t feel comfortable or you don’t want to, that’s fine, too. It’s your life, man.”

“No, I… I think I want you guys to meet him. It’s been so hard to keep him away from the people I consider my family, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe after Christmas, we can all have dinner or something.”

Spencer smiles shyly. “Well, Oscar’s a great cook, so I reckon we could work something out.”

Derek grins, throwing an arm around his shoulders as he immediately jumps back into teasing him as they make their way to the door to go downstairs and see the rest of the team. “Ooh, lover boy’s got him a chef, hey? What else does this Oscar have going for him?”

Spencer chatters eagerly about his boyfriend to Derek, barely skipping a beat when he joins everyone downstairs, his friends taking his cues and joining in with the conversation seamlessly. He’s had enough fuss for one night, and the warmth and understanding on everyone’s faces tells him everything he needs to know.

“Do you have any pictures of him?” JJ asks, raising an eyebrow with eager expectancy as they all settle back into their seats by the fire, a warm and unbelievably happy feeling settling in Spencer’s stomach.

He blushes, digging out his phone from his pocket and unlocking it. “More than a few, I think.”

He finds the most recent picture of his boyfriend — a candid shot of him cooking in the kitchen, spatula aloft, and a huge grin on his face — and hands the phone around.

“Oh wow, you like them buff, huh, pretty boy?” Derek teases as soon as he gets his hands on it, and Spencer’s stomach twists in a sudden bout of fear, expecting to see some hesitancy or even disgust on his friend’s face. What if he thinks that Spencer has a crush on him? What if he’s uncomfortable around him now?

But if Derek’s having any of those thoughts, they don’t show on his face. He’s smiling widely and openly, all the pent-up anxiety and frustration borne from hurt gone from his body language, and he looks completely comfortable sat next to Spencer, his arm stretched out behind him on the back of the sofa.

They sit happily around the fire for a couple of hours, settling into a happy, intimate familiarity Spencer hadn’t realised was missing when he was hiding something so integral to his being from his family, and he’s still smiling when they finally part ways to head to bed, the clock ticking closer and closer to 1 am.

He gets ready for bed quickly, brushing his teeth and throwing on the top he’d stolen from Oscar the first time he’d stayed at his place; a welcome change from his worn and wrinkled suit. As soon as his teeth are brushed and the lights are all off except for his bedside lamp, he pulls out his phone, knowing there’s one more thing he has to do before he goes to sleep.

“Spencer?” Penelope’s voice sounds down the line, clearly concerned. “It’s almost 2 am here, are you okay?”

“I’m gay,” he says, getting straight to the point. The main reason he ever kept it from her was because of his fear of it accidentally getting out to the team rather than fear over her reaction. After all, multiple of his drag queen friends are also hers.

“Oh my God,” she says in that small voice she uses when she’s not actually talking to you, before finally actually replying to me. “Spencer, I’m so happy you told me!”

He doesn’t miss her choice of words, or the way she says them and he tilts his head suspiciously. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

She sighs. “Yeah. I’m sorry, a couple of months ago I saw a text from Oscar on your phone when you went to the bathroom during one of our Doctor Who marathons, and it wasn’t hard to figure out the relationship.”

“And… wait, you’re not mad at me for not telling you sooner?”

“Spencer! Of course not. I was waiting for you to be comfortable enough to share it with me. I felt awful that I knew without your consent but I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to catch you off guard or make you feel uncomfortable. It’s fine that you waited, baby genius, I’m just so happy you told me now. What finally gave you the courage?”

“Well, it might have slipped out in front of the team this evening,” he admits sheepishly, “and the only reason I never told you was because I was scared that it would slip out somehow — accidentally, of course, I didn’t think you’d tell anyone on purpose — and now everyone knows. It’s been killing me not to tell you, Penelope, it really has because I love you so much and you’re my best friend and I trust you with my life, it’s just…”

“Whoa, slow down, Spence,” she laughs fondly, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me, I understand. But I’m glad you finally told everyone and you can be yourself completely with us, now. We all love you no matter what, you know that right?”

“I do now.”

“Good. You should get some sleep, baby boy, it’s late and you’ve had an emotional evening.”

Spencer smiles. “Yeah, I know. You should, too, Pen. I’ll see you when we can finally make it home, okay? Love you.”

“Love you, too, 187,” she says softly, and Spencer can hear the smile in her voice. “Goodnight.”

As soon as he hangs up, he settles down into the bed, turning off the light and pulling the duvet up over his shoulders before dialling one more number.

“Hey, baby,” Oscar says, voice as gentle and caring as it always is, although thicker with tiredness now. “I take it everything went okay?”

“Yeah,” Spencer murmurs, already feeling tired as the safety he always feels at the sound of Oscar’s voice settles into the fibres of his being. “It went so well. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.”

“I can’t wait either, sweetheart. Are you in bed now?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Can you talk to me as I fall asleep?”

“Anything for you, Spence,” he says softly, before transitioning seamlessly into a story about the professors on campus, and his gentle comfort and the knowledge of the unconditional love his family has for him finally lulls Spencer into the best sleep he’s had in weeks.

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bumblingbeasblackhole · 4 years

Text

Why Momo Yaoyorozu would have been a more effective hero as a plus size woman.

Hello all, it’s time for a BNHA rant. A rant in my opinion that is long over due, and that my friends is on one of my favorite characters in the franchise. Momo Yaoyorozu AKA Creati.

Buckle up lads were in for a hefty analysis. (Note the read more) I promise it’s worth the read.

Now, we all know Class 1-A’s vice class rep and resident braniac Momo.

Just in case you’re new here or need a refresher, Momo’s Quirk is called Creation. The basic breakdown of her quirk is that her body uses the Lipids (fats) in her body to create any inorganic material of her choosing.

Now, there’s two key things to remember about her quirk.

First, her quirk requires her to use her physical body reserves in order to function

Second, she has to know how to make those matierals. From bottom to top. That means she has to not only have a design of what she wants in her head but the exact molecular compounds to create those objects as well.

Momo to her credit does this well. She’s been flushed out slightly enough to see various instances where she’s had to improve either on her knowledge of materials and compounds or her speed to achieve the full creation of an item. It’s something we see from her constantly in both the Manga and the Anime.

For example, the first time we are (formally) introduced to Momo’s quirk she creates a few items

A staff for herself, a sword for Jirou, a net to contain the thugs, a thick insulated blanket large enough to cover both her and Jirou, and finally the remembrance of her hero suit.

These items all together begin to wear Momo out as she’s left panting and even tells Jirou that she has a hard time creating such taxing objects on her body. This is stated to the audience the first time we see her in action. It takes her time, concentration, and most importantly her body’s lipid reserves.

This is the first time we see Momo wear herself rather thin. While this in itself is impressive and a great introduction into the character and her abilities and strategic wit in a battle, the rather more harmful implications are yet to be seen. This incident, while foreshadowing her later issues, does not compare to other instances later on the series.

There are three key issues with Momo as she is currently.

Her body/character design inherently limit her abilities as a hero.

The push for her to be a sexy hero/character is ultimately determinetal to her effectiveness as both a character and a hero.

Her intellect is not reflected by the way she operates as a hero. Instead, it is often negated for the sake of her design.

These points seem vague or over harped but I’ll go into detail about them. (Hang in there, this is well thought out and developed, I promise)

But before I get into the key issues and solutions, there’s a lot that’s absolutely fantastic about Momo.

Momo is a great character because she is more than the typical snobby rich girl trope. In fact, she’s not at all snobby. She is the most helpful, kind, and oblivious rich character I’ve ever seen. It’s part of her personality sure, but it’s not the only factor. It’s more or less just a gag for laughs between the other characters.

She is also relatable in the way she has self worth issues, different from Midoriya’s self worth issues. She was never (that were aware of) beaten down or belittled. Her issues sprouted from the way she was confident in her abilities, intellect, and quirk only to be thrown in the deepend UA.

Which idk about y’all, but honestly that shit hits home. If you were ever the smart-kid-who-learned-quickly-and-skated-through-school-only-to-be-out-of-your-depth-with-new-self-worth-issues-when-that-is-no-longer-the-case (or anything similar) than you catch my drift. So score for relatability.

Alas, onwards.

Let’s tackle the first problem.

The way she treats her body now is detrimental to her quirk usage long term.

I’ll explain,

Momo’s quirk functions relatively similar to another hero we are later introduced too, Fatgum.

Now I know what you’re already thinking,

“Bea! She’s supposed to be sexy! She’s supposed to be feminine! Her quirk burns it all so she can look like that! Fatgum has to only store it all!”

On some levels you’re right.

On most though, incredibly wrong.

Momo’s figure is one of the main (and slightly controversial) aspects of her character. I mean, look at her design versus Fatgum’s

See the key differences? I sure do.

Fatgum’s quirk is called Fat Absorbtion. Basically it grants Fatgum the ability to adhere any objects to his body and make them sink into his body fat upon contact with it. And/Or he can build and channel all of the fat in his body into one overpowered and energized punch or attack. (As seen in the overhaul arc) which leaves his body, you guessed it, deprecated and thin. Much like Momo’s, they both use their body’s fat as a tool whether through expelling it or storing it for later use.

I point this out because we see time and time again throughout the series where Momo pushed herself to the limit where she has to expel extraordinary amounts of her body to get the job done. But in reality she only makes a few larger objects. This compared to Fatgum who uses his fat reserves strategically and only in the toughest of battles does he push his body’s reserves to zero. Whereas Momo does this constantly. This is because of her inefficient way of treating her quirk and ultimately, her design.

Let’s discuss some prime examples:

In the training camp arc, Momo makes roughly 15-30 masks for all of Class B students, and half of Class A. Which in itself is a tall order. When we see her again, she’s bloodied, exhausted, barely conscious, worn, and welded to Awase half alive. She even struggles as she makes the tiny tracker she places on the back of the Nomu. After this, in the hospital (pre Kamino rescue) she was unconscious for a day and half due to quirk overuse and dehydration.

Third, in the first movie, My Hero Academia: Two Heroes, we once again see Momo’s fatal flaw as she and a group of Class 1-A students race through the security tower on I-island. She uses her quirk to make cannons of course, a Momo signature, to fend off the security bots fairly early on in the battle. As she continues to make ammo and other items needed to win the battle Momo teeters on the brink of passing out from, you guessed it, dehydration and starvation. Jirou ends up catching Momo as she’s nearly passes out from the lack of fat/substance in her body after making the cannon and ammo.

Then we see the same issue in the second movie My Hero Academia: Heroes Rising. Where Momo is used both to create extra supplies on the island. She passes out after that alone and only wakes up later as the class is regrouping after four villains attack simultaneously. Even after rest and food, we see her later again to make two massive cannons as the first line of defense against the incoming villains. From the start of the second battle Momo is worn out and clearly lacking in lipids to participate fully in a fight. Here, she even keels over and says that she’s at her limit and looks like she’s on the brink of death via dehydration and starvation. Which she very much is.

We also so see this in Provisonal Licensing Exam arc when Momo, Tsu, Jirou, and Shoji are trapped together by a group from another school. Here this is important because the leader of that group has super intelligence granted to her by her quirk (and tea lol) has come up with a “fool proof” plan to beat the group. The bottom line of that plan is simple. Wear. Momo. Out. Which half way works too, until Momo figures out what the other group is trying to do and thinks her way out of that situation. Although, she does use up a decent amount of her body’s reserves before she figures out their plan.

^^^ this scene brings up an extremely concerning point. If a villain knows what her quirk is, and has i don’t know, seen her, then they’re going to do the exact same thing Saiko (the girl in the photo above from the licensing exam arc) attempted to do. Exhaust Momo’s resources.

Now, this has been brought up once in the actual show. During the training camp arc, we see each students training method (designed by Aizawa) in order to overwork and strengthen their quirks. For Momo, that looked like binge eating and creating simultaneously.

This also shows us that Aizawa is at least somewhat paying attention to the drawbacks of her quirk. He may not have been there for some of the more concerning times she’s over worked herself, but it’s not a hard thing to work out just by how she looks and how her quirk functions. He also sees how her speed with her quirk hindered her like in her battle against Tokoyami. However, this is the only time we see this. Plus, this is not nearly enough of solution to the problem. Which in all honesty is simple.

For all intensive purposes, Momo should be a Plus Sized woman.

Not just for diversity or validity of readers. Although it would have been a score for the plus size community since it’s always lacking here for us bad bitches but because it would have been more natural to her character. If she had a bulkier physique or even just a chubbier build she would be way more effective in a battle or even just as a hero.

Her quirk burns the fat in her body instantly while in use. Which means she needs to have a healthy reserve of it at all times, especially since I’m willing to bet her metabolism is crazy fast. Relying on the normal/average caloric intake is irrational for her quirks functionality. Her diet should look more like Fatgum’s where we see him constantly eating in order to fuel his quirk. At the very least, Momo needs to always have foods dense in fats on hand in case she’s in a dire situation where she’s running low on reserves. She would be much more effective that way. I cannot tell you the amount of times I’ve watched a scene where she’s wearing herself out and been exasperated by the fact that she didn’t have even a simple granola bar on her for emergencies.

Hear me out,

Plus size people are extremely capable of doing extraordinary things. As well as also being fit while still having a larger/healthier frame. It’s not all that uncommon. In fact, it’s something that fictional storytelling (an ex machina if you will) isn’t needed in order to cover the realistic applications. There are plenty of people in the word who are of a larger build and are also active, fit, and in overall good health standing.

In real life, Ashley Graham is an excellent example. For those who aren’t privy to this goddess, she’s a plus size model, mother, and fitness enthusiast.

Here’s just a taste of this wonderful goddesses workouts can look like:

(Credit Instagram : @ashleygharam)

Which brings me to my next point

The need for Momo to be sexy is detrimental to her effectiveness as both a hero and as a character.

I know, I know, half of Momo’s whole thing is being sexy, rich, and oblivious. I’m well aware.

But here’s a fun tidbit. Plus size women can be sexy too! Shocker I know! Sarcasm aside, having Momo be a plus size woman wouldn’t hinder her sex appeal if done correctly. In fact, I think it would only make her more appealing, marketable, and effective narratively.

Not that she really needs to be sexy at all, but we will swing back to that.

Remember Ashley Graham? The model I mentioned like a paragraph ago? Well, she’s an example that plus size women can be just as sexy/attractive as anyone else. Which only proves that Momo could still have been an attractive character even as a plus size woman. In fact, it would have been uplifting to see a plus size character who’s whole gag isn’t revolved around them losing weight to fit a societal goal, but instead a character who is plus sized, healthy, and proud. Who utilizes her body in a positive manner. I mean imagine the marketablility to younger audiences! If you still don’t believe me that a plus size woman can still be attractive and show skin like Momo would ultimately have to do in order to use her quirk, check out Ashley motherfuckin Graham doing just that

No matter how they would have gone on to design her as a plus size character, she could have still been stunning. Even if they kept her in the same costume design! Which is garbage but that’s a tangent for another time

But beyond equality and all that good stuff:

Momo being a plus size woman would mean she would have more ability for long term endurance in a battle. As it stands now, Momo taps out of a battle fairly fast. She’s tends to make one larger item and then she’s tapped. Which is highly inefficient in a battle. If anything it seems to be on par with how Midoriya’s quirk affected him in the beginning of the series. He had to sacrifice a part of his body in order to land an effective attack. Sound familiar? Well yeah. Because Momo does the same thing with Creation and she’s had it for years.

Each time Momo over uses her quirk, she’s left on the brink of passing out, if she hadn’t already, leaving her vulnerable and useless in the field alone. Each time she’s pushed herself past her limit she’s had her classmates to catch her when she falls. That’s not practical. Aizawa said it himself in the quirk apprehension test way back in chapter 6 of the manga.

So why is Momo considered differently? Why doesn’t Aizawa say something? Simple. He’s typically not around for these occurrences.

Momo doesn’t have to over use her quirk in simulations. She only does that when there’s real stakes and people on the line. The issue with that is that once she leaves UA, the stakes will always be real, all the time. Isn’t now the best time to nip this issue in the bud? I think so. But also I understand how Aizawa either hasn’t fully caught on, or hasn’t dealt with it. I mean, between villain attacks and our main character constantly almost killing himself recklessly in battle, he’s got a lot on his plate.

The other issue with her “sexy” design is that it negates from her overall character. In all official art we see for BNHA we see Momo typically left out, or hypersexualized. This detracts from her substance of being intelligent and creative. She’s often the butt of the joke when it comes to Mineta’s perverted jokes/schemes as well. Between the cheerleader outfits incident and the locker room scene Momo is constantly written off. Whereas Midnight, a pro hero and teacher at UA, who is known for her sexiness and uses it as her brand, uses her sexuality effectively without diminishing her actual worth as a hero or teacher. But then again Midnight is an adult, who is branded as the 18+ hero. Momo is a student and minor. But y’all still aren’t ready for that conversation yet.

Which brings me to the final point of this long winded rant. (Thanks if you’ve stuck around this long! We’re almost done! Follow me if you don’t already. I write stuff, paint stuff, and theorize/analyze stuff for bnha)

The way Momo is now, Discounts/Negates her supposed intellect

As I’ve mentioned already in this rant, how Momo operates now isn’t working out so well on her favor.

But that doesn’t really make sense considering she’s so fucking intelligent. I mean she’s literally top of the class academically. There is no reason for her to be so brilliant and also so bullheaded in her own quirk use. She shows us time and time again that she has brain power. Her quirk requires she be extremely intelligent in order to comprehend and apply molecular compounds in order to even sort of correctly use her quirk.

So it makes no sense that such simple solutions evade her constantly. Like I find it extremely hard to believe that Momo has never thought, “hmm I’m on the brink of death, maybe I should have eaten more” or “the last few battles left me weak, maybe I should find a solution or ask a teacher,” or even “man, my endurance isn’t all that great. I should work on that,” like anything along those lines would lead her intelligent brain to the conclusion that since whatever caloric intake she’s doing now is far to easy to burn through and perhaps the simple solution is to gain more fatty mass.

It honestly discounts Momo as a character if she’s constantly breaking down when such a simple solution is available to her. Plus on a more lighthearted note, it would be kind of great for Momo to be old money rich and plus sized. I mean it would be kind of ironically hilarious in my opinion.

Okay Bea, so what’s the point?

The point my friends is that female characters can be so much more. Especially Momo. There is always an opportunity for characters like Momo and Ochako (who’ll I’ll be breaking down next/soon) to have more substanse and impact to them than just being the second line of defense sexy characters.

Even in the actual universe that is BNHA, Momo as a hero student has far more potential than she is currently operating at.

Now, don’t get me wrong I understand that Horikoshi has a plateful of characters to deal with and Momo is probably on the bottom of the list, but it doesn’t mean we can’t imagine more for her. Because honestly it doesn’t even really matter if she changes for the better or not in canon, it’s the idea that there’s a character out there who all people can relate to whether it be average watchers/readers, plus size hopefuls, people with insecurities, readers/viewers who just like her quirk/design, or someone like me who saw a character and gravitated to the mostly relatable way she was written.

I love Momo as a character truly, she’s one of my favorites and I heavily associate with her. (Shocker I know, I mean she’s literally my icon that I painted myself) I am in no way tearing the character, franchise, or Horikoshi down. I am just observing what could have been (or could be but probably not) and pointing it out. So that maybe, just maybe, in the future there will be more characters who others can relate too. Other characters who are used at their full inspirational potential. But also, to point out some things that not only round out perspective on a character, but maybe even highlight how worth it it can be to look deeper into a characters through analysis. Hopefully I’ve done at least one of those things through this long post.

_____

Finally, thank you if you read this far into my gigantic breakdown.

Follow me if you don’t already and want too. If you do already follow me, please reblog so that others can read it if they want too.

I plan on doing more character breakdowns for BNHA, I’ve got a few already in the drafts and a cc if you have suggestions or questions. I also write fics for BNHA, so check out my AO3 link on my blog page for that. Also, you can bet your ass I’ll be writing a plus size Momo fic sometime soon. I’m really inspired on the topic (if you couldn’t tell already).

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mcwriting · 3 years

Text

His Mobius

Lol y'all gonna hate me for this one but what can I say, I'm obsessed with this ship and slightly disappointed in the season finale.

Not my normal jam so sorry to those who only follow me for T. Holland content

Picks up where ep 6 leaves off. Don't read if you don't wanna get spoiled lol.

Ship: Loki vs. Mobius M. Mobius (one-sided)

Word Count: 1212

Warnings: it's sad boi hours in here y'all prepare to have your heart ripped out for a second; also spoilers

⏰

The color had drained from Loki's face as he realized what was going on when he stared at the giant statue of He Who Remains.

With the intense branching of timelines, Sylvie had kicked him into a random, newly-born universe.

He turned back to the man he knew-

No. He didn't know this man.

This was Mobius. M. Mobius, but not his Mobius. M. Mobius.

"I... I- I- I need a tempad, please," Loki begged the not-his-Mobius.

"Don't you have one? Wait- I'm sorry, who are you again? You never answered my question," not-Mobius said with growing suspicion.

He didn't know this Loki, or seem to know any Lokis at all, but he still knew to question guys who came up asking frantic questions and requesting other agents' tempads.

Loki didn't know how to answer.

For once he wanted to tell the truth, but there was no way he'd be able to explain things to this not-Mobius. He didn't have time. He needed to find his Mobius.

With a swift glance, he located not-Mobuis's tempad and with even swifter precision snatched it from the man.

"Hey wait!" he cried, but it was too late.

Loki had already punched in random numbers and opened a portal, stepping through into the unknown.

⏰

The yellow rectangle behind Loki closed as soon as he stepped through, and he knew that with all the chaos, he probably wouldn't ever be found.

As he got his bearings, Loki started to register the sights and sounds around him, along with the humid heat that made his already sweaty skin feel even stickier.

He blinked a couple times before realizing what he was looking at.

Somewhat.

He was in a rainforest.

"Midgard. This- I'm on earth," he muttered to himself, brows furrowed.

Back before the TVA, he'd spent years plotting his takeover of the planet. The Asgardian libraries had contained books filled with knowledge about earth's nature and climate systems, something he'd used to his advantage when planning where he wanted to rule from.

While he didn't know a thing about earth customs or technology, Loki could easily tell the difference between a chimpanzee and a capuchin, or explain how hibiscus flowers were great in tea.

The real question was when is he?

Loki looked at his tempad.

Manuel Antonio, Costa Rica. 2015.

It made sense. Loki remembered that the country was known for its lush landscapes.

There was no telling what universe he was in. He wondered if he could find someone to fill in in the 3 years since the battle of New York, if that had even happened in this timeline.

He took a look around. The foliage was bright green, and he spotted a toucan on a nearby branch. There was the occasional scream of a howler monkey echoing through the trees.

A few feet away, just past a few trees, was a dirt path. Signs that people had walked this trail many times.

Of course, a worry popped into the back of Loki's head that claimed a hungry jaguar had paced there as it looked for a meal, trampling the grass in search of prey.

His fears were quelled, however, when he heard faint voices nearing.

He stepped behind a wide tree and watched carefully as a man in a neon shirt led a family down the trail.

Loki spotted 5 kids, who all looked between the ages of 8 and 18. Interspersed among them were 4 adults who looked to be in their 40s or 50s.

At the back of the pack walked two older men. A shorter guy with snow white hair who looked to be in his 70s, and a taller one whose hair was very much salt-and-peppered, likely in his 60s.

The brightly-clothed guide was explaining to them all of the wonderful things Costa Rica had to offer, from its diverse flora and fauna to the beaches, mountains, and rainforests.

Loki was about to pop out from the wood and ask if this family could explain what the avengers were up to, or if they even existed at all here. He knew he would look ridiculous with his torn up TVA clothes but didn't care.

Finding Mobius was more important.

Before he could call out a greeting, he stopped dead in his tracks, blood running cold.

That voice.

He knew that voice anywhere.

The shorter old guy had cut in to make a joke to his family.

"I need to know where to get a jet ski around here."

Mobius.

That was him, but what was he doing here?

Loki felt weird seeing what it would have looked like for his Mobius to live on earth up to this point, assuming that the TVA variants of him had been plucked from the mid-1990s.

"Daaaad," one of the middle aged women groaned.

He has a daughter. Are those his grandchildren?

"You know we brought you on vacation to get you away from your jet ski, right dad?" another of the middle-agers said, a man who looked to be the youngest in his generation group.

A son as well?

"I'll have you know that the jet ski was the greatest invention of our time, of all history, even!" old-Mobius explained light-heartedly.

The taller man next to him placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I think we can manage a week without, my dear."

Loki gasped.

That was him speaking to old-Mobius. Well, not him, but an old version of him.

It didn't make sense.

Loki was well over 1000 years old. An Asgardian diety. A jotun.

He wouldn't just age like that. Not unless he sacrificed something to do so.

Loki couldn't help but notice, though, that while old-Loki's face was considerably wrinklier than his own, the man he looked at was void of worry lines around his eyes and forehead.

He looked genuinely happy.

Loki shifted as best he could to stay hidden behind the tree as he watched what played out ahead of him.

"Oh, alright, alright. I guess I can manage going without ole Lightning for the week if it means I've got y'all to entertain me. But just know that I'm taking everyone out on the lake as soon as we get back to Texas."

Old-Mobius, or whatever his midgardian name really was, smiled at his old-Loki, placing an hand over his lower back.

"I think that can be arranged," old-Loki agreed, quickly pressing a kiss to old-Mobius's temple as he wrapped an arm over the shorter man's shoulders.

Loki didn't even realize that there were tears sliding down his cheeks until the pang in his heart made him turn away from the happy family.

Because it wasn't just Mobius's family, it was his.

He didn't know how the two had found each other, how this Loki had somehow evaded godhood to live a domestic, midgardian life.

Loki couldn't stay here. He couldn't disturb and be caught by them.

He needed to find his Mobius, maybe figure out how to start a life like that.

It wouldn't be easy, jumping through the multiverse searching for that hard-headed, sarcastic, witty, crazy TVA analyst Loki had somehow fallen for, but he had to try.

So with the coast clear, he reset the tempad and stepped through another portal.

For his Mobius.

⏰

A/N: my heart is going to explode. Why did I feel the need to torture myself in this way? Anyways, I wrote it, so y'all gotta read it.

I don't make the rules.

Let me know what you thought! I love and hate this simultaneously so I'd love some feedback. Thanks for reading!!

Once again, sorry for those who follow me for Tom Holland stuff but I really wanted to write this!

If you would like to be added to any of my taglists, please message or send an ask so I can verify that you've been added!

Not tagging my permanent tag list since this isn't my normal content!

#his mobius #justice for mobius #loki #loki tv #loki laufeyson #loki x mobius #loki 2021 #loki spoilers #lokius #mobius #mobius m mobius #loki mobius #loki oneshot #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction

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retrievablememories · 4 years

Text

moonlight | jaehyun (m)

title: moonlight pairing: jaehyun x reader genre: smut request: “Hi 😘 Nct members going to a strip club and jaehyun getting a private dance that turns into fucking scenario please? Can be smutty” word count: 3.2k warnings: sex work, oral sex (male receiving), dirty talk, riding a/n: I admittedly don’t know much about strip clubs at my big age of 23 💀 I researched what I could but took some creative liberties. I only included a handful of nct members here since that is a looot of men lol

“Don’t look now, but your pretty boy and his group of friends are back. Diane says their car is outside,” Anya says, walking into the dressing room where the rest of the girls are. Your interest is piqued at this, though you pretend not to hear her as you finish applying your makeup. Serena isn’t so quick to let you off the hook.

“Isn’t that your boyfriend? Your little boy toy?” Serena asks, leaning closer and batting her eyelashes at you.

You pause with the mascara wand in your hand. “What boyfriend?” you scoff, though you already know exactly what she’s talking about.

“Girl, stop pretending like you’re not into him or some shit. You look at him almost as much as he stares at you!” Anya rolls her eyes and puts her hand on her hip, looking every bit of an Amazon in her 6-inch heels.

“He’s yet to request a private dance, so…I’m not sweatin’ over him. And anyway, he’s no boyfriend of mine if he ain’t paying the bills.”

“Okay, I heard that one!” Both Serena and Anya laugh at your comment. But now that you know he’s here, you are suddenly a little more motivated to dance well tonight. Not that you don’t already, but a little extra never hurt anyone.

Him and his idol friends come around to Moonlight every so often, one weekend or so a month, to get their rocks off. They’re from that kpop group NCT, and you’ve figured out the one who stares is Jaehyun. But you don’t know a ton about them other than those bare facts.

With Moonlight being one of a few ultra-diverse strip clubs in Seoul, it rose to popularity fairly quickly after its establishment. And to no one’s surprise — no one who truly knows the game, anyway — there are always a lot of kpop idols who come to watch the dancers. Their fans would undoubtedly be scandalized if they knew, but hey, that ain’t your problem. You’re here to make money, have fun, and seduce starry-eyed, lonely men. If they’re attractive, that’s only a bonus.

The House Mother, Daya, comes to stand in the doorway and calls your name. “You’re up next girl, so move that ass!”

“I’m coming,” you sigh dramatically, but there are no hard feelings at all. She’s one of the nicer club owners in this part of the city, one who treats all the girls like equals no matter what their skin color or creed is. And when you work in a club as popular and as multicultural as Moonlight, you need someone there to keep the drama to a minimum.

The club is as dim as ever, but the stage lights remain at a low shine, ready to come on full blast once the next dancer appears. The music thumps so heavily that the bass seems to become one with the building, making every part of the club feel alive with energy. A group of 5 men enter, weaving their way through the seats to make it to their usual spot next to the stage.

“Wow, can’t believe we’re actually in a strip club right now, haha…” Mark tries to play it cool, but he’s not very good at hiding his nervousness. This is only his first strip club outing with the other boys, after all. He taps his fingers on his legs like he’s playing the drums.

“Yeah, could’ve sworn we were on Mars instead,” Doyoung says, and the others laugh while Mark rolls his eyes.

Mark isn’t the only one whose nerves are getting to him, though. Johnny notices Jaehyun’s restless demeanor as the rest of them settle in, and he muffles a laugh, nudging the younger man. “God, I hope that one dancer you like is here tonight, you look like you’re about to come out of your clothes.”

“She’s way out of your league,” Ten snickers.

“Stop acting like I’m ugly. I could get her any time,” Jaehyun argues, glaring at the other man.

“She’s a woman of her own, not something you can take as you please, Jaehyun!” Johnny says, and both Ten and Jaehyun laugh.

“Johnny, you should keep an eye out for your own crush.” Doyoung gives him a knowing look, and he only laughs sheepishly in response.

It isn’t long before you appear on the stage, the club bursting with cheers and claps and the dual spotlights flickering to full illumination. The spotlights glisten on your skin and reflect off the light pink lingerie set you’re wearing, making you look akin to a goddess—at least in Jaehyun’s eyes. You step out from behind the velvety curtains, letting the fabric caress your body before making your way towards the pole in the middle of the stage.

Your signature song plays as you twist yourself around the pole and perform your favorite tricks, letting yourself be hyped up and carried away by the people around you calling your stage name and throwing bills at your feet. The world spins as you do, revolving around the pole with your legs touching the sky. You grin at the upside-down faces staring back at you, leaving your charm to do all the talking.

You finish your pole routine by slowly sliding down to the base of it and landing carefully in a split. Your back is facing the NCT boys, though you look over your shoulder to flash a sultry look at the audience. This one is always a crowd-pleaser—though you also use this move as an excuse to catch a glimpse of Jaehyun’s expression. You aren’t disappointed by the hunger written across his gaze.

You gracefully turn your body to them, getting on your hands and knees so they have a full view of your chest. As you crawl closer to the end of the stage, Jaheyun’s figure grows clearer underneath the club’s simultaneously dark and light atmosphere. He’s close enough to reach out and touch.

So you do—bringing your legs out in front of you and spreading them in an appealing stretch before resting them on his shoulders, one after the other. Other men in the club seethe with envy. Jaehyun himself is stuck like a fish out of water, blushing madly but also completely into your display.

Beside him, Doyoung whoops and Johnny whistles. You lift your legs off of Jaehyun gracefully and follow the move by letting your silk robe slip off your shoulders, fully exposing the bare skin of your shoulders and back. Even this is enough to get the men riled up again, and you revel in their cheers.

Jaehyun knows enough strip club etiquette than to try to touch you, and you take advantage of this by gliding off the stage and circling him like he’s your prey. You purposely brush your silk robe over his body, letting it cocoon him in your scent. His fingers drift across it, and he wonders if it could possibly be as soft as your skin looks—or maybe you’re even softer.

Before he can truly get into it, you’ve flitted off to another nearby table of men, taking your silk with you.

“Holy fuck,” Mark looks like a deer in the headlights, and his legs are crossed uncomfortably to hide his obvious boner.

“The baby’s gonna implode!” Ten laughs.

“Well hold it, because the night is just beginning!” Doyoung shouts.

Jaehyun’s eyes keep coming over to you even as you rotate to one of the other, smaller platforms in the club, another girl taking your spot on the main stage.

“You really put it on him tonight, huh?” Serena says, putting her arm around your shoulders. “He’s totally in love. Watch him come to the next show with an engagement ring.” You chuckle at that idea. You find it strangely endearing. You wouldn’t marry him without knowing him, of course, but the idea of having him that tightly wrapped around your finger makes you grin.

You don’t have long to think about it before Daya is coming to break up your kiking fest.

“You’ve got a request for a private dance from one Jaehyun. Sound familiar?” Daya announces. Serena nudges you, and you nod. Daya raises her eyebrows. “You up for it?”

The corners of your lips curl up in a smile. “Give me 5 to freshen up.”

Moonlight holds a dozen or so rooms within its second story, all solely reserved for private dances. You climb the stairs slowly in your heels, partly because you don’t want to trip and partly because you’re slightly nervous about what to expect. There’s an abundance of security guards stationed on this level—and each room has an emergency button—so you’re not worried about safety, per se. Whoever this Jaehyun guy really is, you hope he can meet a few of your expectations, at least. Maybe it’s a little embarrassing, but you’ve built him up in your mind more than you’ve allowed yourself with other club-goers.

The room number is 202. You stand in front of the door for a few moments to take several deep breaths. Then you relax your body, talking yourself back into your Performance mode, and open the door.

“Who’s this handsome man?” Jaehyun looks up to see you standing in the doorway, still wearing your outfit from the stage. He sits up on the plush black couch that stands out from the blazing purple hue of the rest of the room. A row of mirrors frames the wall behind the couch, reflecting your own figure back to you. He looks a bit disheveled, with his shirt unbuttoned and his slacks crooked, but it’s a good look for him.

He leans forward to drink in your body, his eyes drifting up from the garters resting against your thighs to the lacy bra covering your breasts, and you smile underneath his gaze. “Jaehyun. And you’re ______...right?”

“Of course. You should know me by now, special boy,” you tease, sauntering over to him to sit on the couch beside him, instead of his lap like he expected. Still, you hover incredibly close to him, your hand sliding against his lapels and stroking the fabric of his button-up right where it unfolds against his skin. “After all, you’ve stared enough.”

“It’s hard not to.” Jaehyun rakes his eyes across your body as if he’s dying to touch it. You smirk and stand up again, sliding off your silk robe and throwing it to him as you wind your body to the music coming from the room’s speakers.

“What would your girlfriend say?” you tease.

His eyes widen at that. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Don’t act so scandalized about it...men with girlfriends and wives come here all the time. It’s shitty...but it’s life.” You say this while twisting your hips in his face, and he initially seems a little too distracted to realize you’ve said anything. Then it registers.

“That’s....do you like this j-job, at least?” Jaehyun’s breath hitches at the end of his sentence when you drape yourself across his body, your head resting back on his shoulder and your ass pressing against the undeniable bulge in his pants. Still, he doesn’t touch you, which you are grateful for—many other men haven’t been so tactful during private dances—so you continue servicing him without a care in the world.

“It’s fun, and I get to meet handsome men like you.” Your fingers ghost across his jawline, drifting only inches away but not making contact. “There’s a lot to like about it.”

You move away and he thinks you mean to get up, but you only turn to face him. “You can touch me now, if you’d like. I think you’ve been a good boy…”

You grind in Jaehyun’s lap and are delighted when he responds in kind, pushing his hips up to meet yours. Your faces are inches apart. You are practically breathing in sync, smiling like there’s a secret only the two of you know.

You make the first move by kissing him, and he slants his mouth against yours as if your lips have always belonged together.

You grasp Jaehyun’s hand and lead it to your hip, and he takes the cue to rest both of his hands on your waist, simply following your directions.

He does take the lead with the kiss, though, biting your lip as you gently pull away, and tugging you back in. He tastes like alcohol, and as cliché as it is, it makes you feel a bit drunk—but that might also be due to his demeanor itself.

“How long have you wanted this?” you ask, sliding your hand into his black shirt and drawing your nails across his skin—not painfully hard, but enough to make him throb under you.

“Maybe too long,” he says. “You’re very beautiful.”

You smile. “Aren’t we a perfect match, then?” Your hand slides lower, to his abdomen and the muscles you can feel even under his dress shirt, and then to his belt. “Would you like to continue?” you ask.

“Yes.”

You unbuckle his belt, sliding the leather through his belt loops and dropping it off to the side somewhere. You slide yourself off his lap to kneel in front of him as you caress his lower half, rubbing your hands up his thighs and across his bulge, underneath his clothing to feel his abs, and then back again.

Unzipping his dress pants is equally fun. You watch him sweat and feel him shudder as you drag the zipper down with your teeth. You pull his underwear down after, slowly drawing the material over his skin on purpose. His cock springs out, hard and thick and flushed with need, and you lean forward to drag your mouth over it, base to tip.

Jaehyun is heavy and warm against your lips and he smells good, like male musk, like pheromones and desire. You hold the base as you slap his dick on your tongue and he rolls his head back, making a sound between a groan and a laugh as if he can’t believe this is happening.

He doesn’t want to rush or hurt you, so he lets you do the work of sliding him into your mouth as far as you can take, drooling over his dick and sucking him so messily that it makes his knees quiver. The groans and grunts you pull out of him are lovely to hear—you feel good to know that you can bring him this much pleasure so easily. His precum drips into your mouth, salty on your tastebuds.

Jaehyun is pliable in your hands as you stroke his shaft, focusing your tongue on his leaking tip. You feel his thumb brushing the back of your neck, his hand settling on your nape as he watches you suck his dick. He curses under his breath when you scrape your teeth against him very gently, giving just enough pressure to make it feel good.

Soon, you feel Jaehyun nearing in your mouth, his cock throbbing harder and his thighs trembling around you.

“I-I want to fuck you,” Jaehyun says abruptly. You pull back to look at him through your eyelashes. You leave a trail of spit lingering between your lips and his dick, and he looks like he might come right then.

“Such a greedy boy.” You lift yourself to be level with his eyes, tilting his chin with your fingertips. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please?” He looks like he isn’t totally certain that’s the right answer, and it makes you laugh. In response to his request, you turn to face the door, bending over and making a show of unclipping your garters and sliding your thong down before straightening to remove them completely. Jaehyun moans at that.

You turn back to see that he’s already taken care of the condom. He groans beautifully for you again when you crawl back onto his lap and slide him inside of you, clenching around his hard length.

You start with a slow and winding rhythm at first, not entirely hellbent on teasing him but not willing to let him blow his load too soon, either. His hands are all over your body at this point, gripping your ass and your breasts and whatever else he can get his hands on. He pulls your bra down and tugs your nipples into his mouth like a man starved.

You laugh at his eagerness, riding him harder.

Jaehyun plants his feet straight on the ground and starts thrusting up into you and you cry out at the added sensation, his tip hitting against your g spot and making you sweat and tremble.

“Fuck, you’re good,” you sigh, digging your nails into his shoulder as you fuck each other at the perfect pace.

“This is the best pussy I’ve ever had,” he says in between sucking your nipples. “I’ve gotta taste it.”

“N-next time.” Your body squeezes around him again as he brings one of his hands to the front to rub your clit. You’re glad the music is loud, otherwise there’d be no hiding your noises or the sound of your skin slapping together.

You feel wild and free in a way you haven’t in a long time, and you let yourself scrape your nails across his skin and bite at his neck as you fuck yourself harder on his dick.

You and Jaehyun kiss and thrust against each other like you’ll never get to do it again, with all the delicious hurriedness that a quick and tension-filled type of fuck can offer.

“I’m c-close.” Jaehyun groans this into your hair as you’ve gone back to biting his neck again. He grips your ass and holds you tighter against him, if at all possible, and pushes himself into your spot with renewed energy. His hand still works your clit, just shy of being firm enough to hurt—but practiced enough to provide pleasure.

“Not without me,” you say, licking the shell of his ear. “What would your friends say?”

“They wouldn’t know, because right now, you’re mine alone.” He slaps your ass and that’s enough to get you spilling onto him, crying his name right into his eardrum as you shudder and tighten around him.

Jaehyun comes soon after, thrusting a few more times and settling himself deep inside you as he fills the condom. He leans his head against the couch and you watch as he vocalizes his pleasure, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he arches into you.

You feel sated and a bit sleepy now, but your shift isn’t over yet and there are still more shows to be done. You lay a kiss on Jaehyun’s throat before gingerly untangling yourself from him and redressing, making sure everything is in place.

Jaehyun throws away the condom and does the same for himself, though there won’t be any hiding the bruises you’ve left on his neck. He looks in the mirrors behind him and blushes at the sight of them, brushing his fingers over them.

“Sorry honey. Hope your friends don’t tease you too much over it.” You smile sympathetically, though you aren’t terribly sorry. You move to open the door but Jaehyun calls out wait, and you pause.

He slides a piece of paper with his number on it into your hand and gives you a smirk. “Don’t forget our promise. ‘Next time,’ remember?”

You tuck the paper into your bra and make a note to put it somewhere safer once you get to the dressing room. “Of course, baby.” With that, you are gone, and Jaehyun is left with the memories—and the marks—to remind him of you until you meet again.

#jaehyun smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #nct ambw #ambw fic #ambw scenarios #nct scenarios #nct jaehyun #nct fic #nct 127 fic #nct 127 imagines #ambw imagines

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applejongho · 4 years

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2020, a year that will live in infamy. This list, some book series' or standalones that will live rent free in my heart for the next three and a half years.

Books that Got Me Through 2020 (so you can read them in 2021)

The Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare

part of the enormous shadowhunter series (the mortal instruments, for example, and you don't have to read it first but you can)

literally??? the best fuckin love triangle to exist?? ever??

like seriously I don't like love triangles but I'd murder for this one

wonderfully developed characters

WONDERFULLY DEVELOPED CHARACTERS

off the rails badass demon fighting pretty black haired boy

gentle and kind (half) chinese violinist that I would jump off of a building for that also fights demons

shapeshifting bibliophile girl that's trying to protect and simultaneously figure out her family bc her dad is probably a demon

like magic? fighting demons? vampires? warlocks? 19th century london? ANGST??? yeah read this

I don't cry over books but I cried over the epilogue of the third book

The Cruel Prince Series - Holly Black

are you a hoe for enemies to lovers?

if yes then this series will make you their bitch

literally the BEST angry female character I've read ever

like she's not annoying or overly brash or dark or angsty, she just living in a world that hates her while being the badass queen she is

and the prince

OH he's a joy to read

he's a lil bitch and I love him (read: dramatic bitch)

he's also a fairy (and she's not)

and basically says he hates her during make out sessions so

one of my favorite dynamics... ever

and some of the descriptions and words... *chef's kiss* I still think about them even today

a bit of lgbtq representation (bi girl that dates a girl) but not the main focus

I think I ate up the first book in two days which is insane for me

The Poppy War Series - R.F. Kuang

this author is literally a sadist bc none of the characters make it out happy

fjjdkddk besides that: imagine imperialist Japan and yu-gi-oh and combine them together

like literally the humans start controlling the gods it's metal af

heavy as hell series that has implied rape and implied massacre, but the majority of the series is a war so that's a little expected

it's not classified as YA, it's adult, and is based on true events of the sino-japanese war

main character is also extremely badass, she literally destoys her uterus after getting a period for the first time bc she hated the pain

that alone should compel you

would recommend if you like getting slammed into walls

also! the first part of the book is a lot like harry potter (students going to a school to train for a hypothetical war if it ever came) but then the second half and the rest of the books is Actually The War, It's Here Now, Suffer

there's also a character that's basically draco malfoy but 10000x sexier and I should mention that I was a slut for draco for about a year of my life so that says a lot

and the author is a POC!

The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires - Grady Hendrix

a group of housewives that essentially everyone thinks are dumb af and incapable of anything besides giving birth and raising children fight an immortal, bloodthirsty, and generally dick vampire

honestly I've seen reviews saying this book is kinda sexist (author is a white man) but as a woman I didn't see any problems? Idk

I read it via an audiobook and I think it would be kinda dry to read as a physical book bc it's sorta slow in the beginning

but then the second half is A Ride™

a rly unorthodox book! and I enjoyed it

also heavy themes such as rape and (overt) sexism (the setting is the south in the 90s)

but just a good book to read if you like seeing the underdog prevail

and the description and the depiction of the vampire is v unique, he's not your typical vampire, he's like,,,

an immortal god that drinks blood

yeah

The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare

another cc book series lol

same premise as the other one: fantasy creatures and demon hunters except it's modern day

there is SO much lgbtq+ representation (imo, I think it was done well. other people think otherwise tho)

like a black trans woman opening up about her struggles of transitioning, which isn't something I see a lot (ig I don't read enough books abt trans people? or the fantasy genre doesn't have enough of them)

fairies fairies fairies fairies

there's also a crap ton of characters bc the main character's family is enormous

and they're all developed SO WELL

LIKE FR THE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT YES

a dumptruck load of angst and ✨forbidden romance✨ that's almost as big as my ass

honestly this is one of those series' that you don't even realize you've finished it until you've shut the cover of the final book and you're zapped back to reality

Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo

my god

this series is honestly everything I ever wanted into a book

physically and mentally disabled characters? yep

diverse characters of color? yep

lgbtq diversity? yes ma'am!

interesting and exciting plotline? i n d e e d

six loveable main characters that could probably murder me in my sleep! fuck yeah

plotline is basically a heist novel and these characters have to do this near impossible mission in order to get glory

oh and they all wanna kill each other

two of them wanna fuck but also fucking hate each other and I love that for them

not a romance heavy book tho, but the romance (as a subplot) that is there is 10000/10 y'know

if you're in a book slump I recommend this to awaken you from your drought bc this quenched my thirst and I'm thirsty af

happy reading!!!

#book recs #2020 books #the infernal devices #the poppy war #the cruel prince #rape tw #sexism tw #the dark artifices #the southern book club's guide to slaying vampires #six of crows #bookblr #ya books #adult books #books and libraries

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rosheendubh · 3 years

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Concept AU-Star Wars (orig trilogy to first 3 Zahn/Thrawn books...reworked), Keltiad inspired star systems in conjunction with FireFly-Serenity progressing from the events of Miranda...

*This concept is sitting on my IPad in some extremely confusing stream of consciousness notes right now...

*This really is spoof filk, bringing in ultimate Evil vs Luke, and the Heroes of the Galaxy, combined with a 70s/80s/90s/2000s pop SpaceRockOpera...there will be a tavern scene where Jayne, Mal, Lando, and Han rouse it up to ‘Fat-Bottomed Girls (make the world go around...)’...

*Princess Vespa from SpaceBalls has crossed the Wormhole to entrepreneurial interests on Tatooine, buying out Jabba’s Palace to open a megaplex mall, spa, and resort with a GastroPub called The MegaMaid-still going from Suck to Blow...

*Celtic and classical myth plays a big inspire here with the Mabinigion, some Irish tales relating to the Danu, the triad of Gwythr ap Greidiol-Creiddylad-Gwydion ap Don reflected by Luke-Thrawn battling it out, and OFC, Rhyanon ferch Garwen (combo of Daenerys and Marevel’s Valkyrie-maybe Scarlet Witch-with some added nanotech/healing-biomolecular manipulation capacity-she’s a Human psionically gifted CRISPR basically...lol), as the balance between the 2...

*Mara and Karrde (eh, if you don’t picture Aquaman-Jason Mamoa in that role, you need to spend useless diversion hours perusing some Karrde fan art, and Aquaman...) are definitely in this ring...

*Rhyanon/Yana has a female lover who’s a Dathomiri witch based off Kalinda from ‘The Good Wife’ (b/c I love Kalinda’s character...sultry/confidant/intelligent/all around kick-ass female...)-Yana does become Luke’s lover eventually-after a good bit of angst and animosity-there are complicated sexual tensions and emotions running all through this thread...again, Mara...

*Am I the only being in the multiverse who envisions Zoe Washburn and Lando Calrissian interacting...potentially in a romantic way? She needs some comfort after Wash’s death...

*This tale involves a Wormhole of course, drawing the distant quadrants of the Terran Federacy and The Republic Alliance-Galactic Empire together...

*and Vader-Anakin survives the DeathStar-while he’s not necessarily Evil Vader, he’s also not entirely benign Light Side either. He resides on Dagobah in self-imposed exile, due to the years of PTSD wrought by the war crimes he’d committed-Ashoka there as his mentor/ally as he reconciles a new role-still devoted to the Sith, and opposing the revival of the Jedi Order of the OldRepublic-wanting his son and daughter to understand the corruption, stagnancy, and ideological prejudice which had inundated the old Jedi order, necessitating it’s downfall-believing a more enlightened path possible balancing the nuances of Dark and Light to be less exclusionary and restrictive than the Old Order had become...

*Luke still holds a military position within the Republic Alliance a Fleet Commander now, occasionally leading squadron assaults, but now on his own battleship—“while he was no king, he fought beside the kings of Britain”—drawing some inspiration from Uther (Anakin), and Arthur (Luke), and Aella (Thrawn)...

*Zombie-looking Luke in the ArtManip isn’t DarkSide Luke in this version. More like Luke, sacrificing himself-simultaneously combining forces with Thrawn, who’s tapped into an extremely ancient prototype archaic genome (oh, that was my own conception, but I realize ‘The Expanse’—perhaps the finest example of modern Space Opera ever, combining Science with Fiction, and a lurid and lyrical storyline, deploys a similar concept—nothing new under the sun, as they say...) he Uses for hybrid clones (think ‘Alien’ here...), which have become increasingly powerful and difficult to control, while buying the Empire military superiority vs RepublicAlliance. Thrawn inoculated himself with the nucleic acids, which has brought on an expression of new powers over matter/time/space influencing the presence of the Wormhole, and the primordial creature behind it-and the new hybrid creations existing in a sort of multidimension DarkMatter/AntiMatter state seeking to colonize and spread across the galaxy now that they’ve been awakened. The Terran Federacy/Firefly segment has also discovered these archaic genomic sequences, which ties in with the creation of the Reavers, and the fallout from Miranda...and River Tam’s part of the travesty of a tale...

*Luke, in a stand-off with Thrawn, and the *unnamed Primordial DarkMatter Creature dating to the beginning of time*, is wounded, mortally, by DarkMatter creature (otherwise, cheekily referenced as QKZM-Quantum Kracken Zombie Monster), and the only way to prevent his death-more like Total Zombie TakeOver as he‘s assimilated into the QKZM’s hybrid beings-is for Yana, with her own powers over the manipulation of genetic molecular structures, to join with Thrawn in allowing *archaic genome conscience* into Luke’s body-sort of Pirates of the Caribbean-like with the heart of DavyJones providing a sort of cursed immortality. Problem is, Luke can only now reside in the dark places/planets which have been annihilated-and seeded with—the hybridized DarkMatter beings, and in the weird parallel shadow dimension where the DarkMatterAncientGenome Being inhabits. The purpose here is that Luke returns with Thrawn/abducted to this OtherWorld-UnderWorld in order to stymy the malignant spread of the nearly unstoppable QKZM, which places Luke in a perpetual state of using the Force to keep from being completely transformed into a minion of QKZM, while he and Thrawn try to navigate the DarkMatter dimension-trapped in the wormhole destroyed by the explosion of a fusion drive-which has also severed the connection between the Quadrants...Thrawn’s particular alien constitution makes him resistant to being completely dominated by the archaic genome mutated with his own biology...

*Yana, with River-Leia-Mara (like the 3, or 4 Queens of Avalon, who escort Arthur’s body back to the Otherworld), are left with trying to repair the massive devastation wrought across the galaxy, while trying to find some way of restoring the trans-spatial anomaly (Aka, Le’ Wormhole...), and Yana-in a reverse Eurydice-Orpheus kind of spin, ventures to find some way to follow Luke into that dark plain, and retrieve her lover-this involves ancient UnderGround pools on Earth That Was/Old Terra, which exists in a sterilized portion of space called the Wasteland (like that Arthurian theme?), now a blasted out expanse of light-years devastated by a massive surge of radiation flaring from a huge SuperNova 500-1000 years before (relating to the human inter-stellar diaspora alluded in the FireFly universe, with my own added strokes...)-as well as ancient trees existing in subterranean pools-yes, DarkSide Tree on Dagobah is a part of the web found on various planets, and is subsequently nicknamed Yggdrasil-wherein these ancient arboreal pools hold protoplasmic genomic sequences, but of less nefarious design than the DarkMatter Entity trying to conquer the inhabited galaxy (implied MilkyWay...)-all dating from the great cataclysm of the Universe’s creation. This segment inspired by the fact that it’s Rhiannon in the tale of the Mabinogion, who pursues her son, Pryderi, into the Otherworld w/o hesitation-as well as Inanna who dares the 7 Gates of Hell to prove her worth as Queen of Heaven-and the ancient tale of the goddess, Freya, who wept tears of amber pursuing her lost husband-lover, Svipdaeg-Odr (variance of Odin), across the world to return him to her side...

*I‘m sorry?

#Star Wars #Luke Skywalker #Rhyanon ferch Garowen #Mara Jade #Firefly #Crossover

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bookish-black-girl · 4 years

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Decompressing My Thoughts and Hopefully Arriving at a Conclusion

I want to preface this by stating and acknowledging that I am a recovering People Pleaser. Some days I have thick skin. Most days I cry, LOL.

The second thing I want to get out of the way is that I didn’t have reader friends growing up. I was the reader friend***. Which means I’ve read many books not because I wanted to, but because I was so starved to talk about one of my greatest loves that I’d read whatever was cool or in vogue at the moment.

Alrighty, on with the post!

Right now Bookstagram feels like a war zone for me. Half the people I follow love all of Sarah J. Maas’ books and have dedicated stories, reels, memes, and posts to declare this love and appreciation. The other half would probably love to see all past, current, and future books burned to ground, citing cases of misogyny, lack of racial and sexual diversity, tired tropes, problematic tropes, and lackluster characters and plots.

“Okay Blaire, you’re doing a lot of talk about what others are saying but what are you saying?”

Y’all I’m saying that I’m TIRED. My honest opinion on this whole situation?? People should be able to read what they want to read and enjoy what they want to enjoy within reason and not make others feel like shit along the way.

When it comes to SJM books I think they’re average. I really do. They’re not the pinnacle of fantasy and fae tropes in fiction, I have beef with the fact that they are marketed as YA when they really should be NA (not counting Crescent City), fandom darling Rhysand is....there.... and I have the biggest bone to pick with aggressive Nesta supporters but that’s another post and I’m not getting into that right now. Will my Goodreads and Storygraph pages incriminate me for giving the 3 books I did read (A Court of Thornes and Roses, A Court of Mist and Fury, A Court of Wings and Ruin) 4 stars? Sure would but changing the rating to reflect current feelings would require a reread that I just don’t have the energy or interest to carry out.

I guess what I’m saying is that I understand and agree that these books are problematic, but I don’t have a problem with you reading and even enjoying them? I’m a proud and obnoxious supporter of The Selection Series so I lost my Judgment Card a long time ago 🤣 What I do have a problem with and can articulate within the safety of this Tumblr space is that I have issues with the mainly white women who praise SJM books and refuse or just don’t put in the effort to also read BIPOC fantasy books?? And/or rate those books lower than the SJM ones??? (Take a drink every time I say “SJM” LOL!) And then go out of their way to shut down meaningful conversation with others (mainly BIPOC readers) who point out triggering content??? That’s ugly. That’s really ugly and I hate it here.

I want to apologize to one of my best and closest irl friends, who may or may not read this, but I find more enjoyment out of listening to her talk about why she loves the ACOTR books, watching people tear the series to shreds (shout out to Cindy and other booktubers, but mostly Cindy sksksks) and then going on IG to again watch people liveblog their reading journeys. Don’t ask me to explain why I’m like this, we both won’t get answers. ...That’s why I haven’t added Silver Flames to my TBR and skirt around the possibility of the Throne of Glass books. Never say never, but there’s too many other books I wanna read before I die, and some of those are rereads. So.

To the people who make lighthearted and serious content criticizing these books, who continue to do the work and make the videos and essay chats and IG posts breaking down why you shouldn’t read this series, why it’s bad, why, why, why....I’m annoyed, but I get it? I just think this goes back to respect, something that we could stand to remember. Like, respect that people are going to like books that you think are trash, but ALSO respect BIPOC readers in the community who explain with very good reason why they personally find issues. I know it sounds contradictory but these are dark fantasy books with faries and smut and I’m tired of feeling like I have to defend my friends and mutuals who like the SJM books while simultaneously declaring the books are only HALF as hyped and loved because of a white audience.

***Which brings me to my last point because your girl is running out of steam and will have to reread this for clarity and grammer before other people read this, damnit. I’ve been trying to figure out why this is one of those subjects that I don’t have thick skin for and my anxiety is having a whole field day without my permission. I think it ties back to baby Blaire trying to fit in as a Black girl in predominantly white situations and being teased about not being the typical Black girl by Black and non-Black friends. Obviously I know how toxic that was and is, but that internalized diminished self-esteem doesn’t go away.

So I feel some type of way when I see and hear the arguments about SJM books and agree, but also see other Black girls just vibing and loving the books and basking in the community and I feel sick to my stomach for gatekeeping. (I don’t know if gatekeeping is the right word, so I’ll edit this post later once I locate the right one). It gives off the vibes of “because you’re a Black girl, you shouldn’t like/enjoy/engage in xyz content” and I hate it. It’s a terrible feeling.

So. In conclusion, I don’t know if I made any sense BUT I feel better and less anxious and stressed so this exercise accomplished what I needed it to.

tl;dr: let people enjoy what they want within reason, don’t be a dick, diversify your reading for Pete’s sake, and I probably won’t read the rest of SJM’s books but will continue to devour all of the think pieces

#bookish talks #blaire talks: sarah j maas & co.#long post #internalized racism #ramblings #👋🏽👋🏽 anyone from my book IG circle (welcome to my mind)

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

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With the meta gen thing in the young justice season 3, i started to wonder, which power would each batfam member have?

Okay, so Dick’s is a bit of a cliche, perhaps, and I’m not the first person to think of this for him, its just….its necessary, lol, as nothing else even comes close to being as good a match. So for him, gravity powers….able to make himself lighter than air and thus massively boost the height and distance of his leaps or just float in the air, reorient himself so he can walk straight up walls or upside down on ceilings, multiply his own mass so his punches or kicks do ten times the damage, toss out out gravity grenades or pulses that wipe out the gravity in an area and make everything weightless, unanchored and floating, unable to find any kind of footing anywhere, or perhaps the opposite, tossing out gravity pulses that intensify the gravity in an area, weigh everything down until its impossible to move.

Jason’s power would be something he calls blowback, or maybe a ‘damage bounce.’ Basically an extremely localized reality warp which causes the actual harm or damage caused by someone that’s fighting him or fighting someone nearby him, to be shifted back onto the instigator. So shoot him…you end up the one shot. Beat up someone in his field of view, and all the damage you would otherwise be inflicting on that person ends up displaced onto you. Etc, etc.

Tim’s power is to make leaps forward and back along his own individual timeline. Its not true time travel, he can’t change events that have happened or anything like that, its more like he can at any given moment swap himself out with another version of himself that exists at a different moment in time. So he can kind of shapeshift in a limited, unexpected way…by swapping his current self out with an older version of him from much further along his personal timeline…..with most people unlikely to recognize him with an extra ten to twenty years added to the age and appearance they expect him to have. Or he can heal quickly in a combat situation…by changing places with an uninjured version of himself. And so on and so on.

Cassandra’s power is to piggy-back on the senses of anyone she’s close enough to, effectively letting her see and hear anything they do. She’s not really a telepath despite it involving a psychic component… essentially her power lets her overlay her own mind and senses on top of someone else’s, so from her POV she’s basically seeing through their eyes….but its purely about increasing or adding vantage points for her….she can’t read the thoughts of whomever’s senses she’s sharing, nor can she influence them………..though she can still read body language via someone else’s borrowed senses, just as easily as with her own. She’s begun experimenting with the possibility of reversing the feedback loop….letting someone see through her eyes instead, as a kind of destabilization technique, rendering an opponent temporarily wtf-y, or like, to loop her siblings in on the same intel page, etc.

Damian’s power is switch teleportation. Like castling in a game of chess…he can effectively teleport anywhere within his field of vision….but only by exchanging places with something or someone at the end point he’s aiming for. Used strategically though, this power is as much a tactical advantage as it is a means of transportation or a quick getaway. It affords him a variety of ways to end up inside a location he’s trying to infiltrate even while simultaneously leaving the guard locked out on the wrong side of the door he’s meant to be guarding….he can sow enormous confusion with this in combat, randomly switching his way through a crowd of enemies all trying to cut him down and just ending up doing more damage to their own allies instead….and by combining it with his grappling hook and the right timing, he can launch himself off rooftops and halfway down, just lock eyes with someone like Bane, standing at the roof’s edge far above him….and now the one falling in his place, moments later, instead,.

Stephanie’s power is something she calls her spoiler punch (haymaker, uppercut, anything else along those lines). She’s not a precog herself, capable of seeing her own future, but via skin to skin contact, she can deliver a vision of anyone’s future to them. She has no control over what they see, and only gets the vaguest glimpse of it herself, via a kind of psychic echo - and its not always set in stone. Some of the visions end up coming true, some are averted, some accidentally end up fulfilled by attempting to avert it. However, the visions are always intense, a shock to the person’s system, so as a Hail Mary measure, just slipping off a glove and punching an opponent bare fist to bare cheek can give her all the distraction and advantage she needs, at the very least….and in some cases, such a punch isn’t merely distracting to them, but downright demoralizing.

Duke’s power is essentially just one aspect of his canon power….just pushed further. Instead of his ghost vision, here his power is just the amplifying aura he manifests, that boosts the powers of other metas nearby. Except in this version of it, that amplifying aura isn’t just limited to boosting meta powers….he can focus and channel it to amplify any energy source near him at all. Amping up the ambient light in the atmosphere to create blinding flashes as a diversion…..amping sound waves so a carefully and deliberately boosted snap of the fingers can rattle walls and shatter windows. Boosting temperatures so the heat generated by friction in just the right time and place ends up sparking an actual fire, or just boosting the electrical impulses firing off in a person’s nervous system as just part of its regular synaptic activity….now amped up enough to cause a surge those synapses weren’t prepared for and overloading a person’s nervous system, just enough to knock them out.

And last but not least, since I’m still stumped on something for Bruce….Barbara’s power would be a kind of telekinetic programming. Broad spectrum telekinesis that can perform any number of feats….but that rather than exercise it consciously, like Jean Grey or other telekinetic superheroes are most known for doing….Babs’ telekinesis is run by her subconscious, even as her conscious mind focuses on her hacking and information gathering as Oracle. Essentially, Babs writes ‘code’ for her telekinesis….programming various activities, feats and routines for her telekinesis to accomplish….while her telekinetic programs are being run and enacted by just her own subconscious mind.

This way, Barbara is able to devote her conscious attention to her duties and routines as Oracle, the same as she typically does at various points in canon…..while at the exact same time, in the background of the Clocktower, her telekinesis is going through the motions of conducting various investigations all at the same time and without any requiring her conscious oversight. Her ‘pre-programmed’ directives and the code she’d written for her own psychic powers to use as its operating system, are more than capable of handling various minutiae and the physical activity portion of sorting through the piles of evidence and categorizing it properly, etc.

And thus even while busy as Oracle, Babs can have all of that happening behind her, with her subconscious and her telekinetic powers basically acting in concert as though her Clocktower is a fully staffed and busy precinct, as active as any actual precinct might appear….with just the difference that this particular ‘precinct’s hustle and bustle was the work not of actual manpower, but rather, more like an army of invisible, intangible robots dutifully fulfilling her objectives…..orchestrated by nothing other than the machinery of her subconscious mind, and the psychic powers she’d programmed to need nothing more than that in order to accomplish whatever tasks she set for them to accomplish.

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thehollowprince · 4 years

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This one fic really tried scoring ~diversity~ points by having Braeden be a trans woman and sex worker, but portraying her as bitchy and antagonistic in need of being torn down a peg because she doesn't worship wunderkind fanon!Stiles, even tho she's no more abrasive than Kate (a good guy here) and Cora (who made a transmisogynistic remark ~jokingly~). And Stiles says "she resents what she can't control" like... sis, that's canon!Stiles, y'all hate Black and trans ppl SO. MUCH. Lol 😆

also, same fic embodies that "Hale family as the powerful rich ideal family" they have 300 charities, people sing their praises. But a Black Muslim pack are antagonistic, enslave their own family, are ~hostile~, face ~justice~ from white Talia, etc. And the one other trans (agender) character is similarly portrayed negatively, including Stiles making fun of their ~weird~ name. And overall the fic has such white savior tones despite the ~diversity~

The fic (rightfully) portrays Gerard negatively for being a child predator but simultaneously romanticizes Peter + Kate, the former who's literally known her since she was a child. And "she pursued him! She wore him down" and it's portrayed positively. And generally is weird, gross like that with age gaps like that. Deaton is, of course, Stiles's mentor here, and Stiles's personality is nothing like canon, just replace his name with Scott and it'd actually make sense lol

Fic is a strange creature.

I read (well... reread) one recently that was a Practical Magic AU. The problem, I realized upon rereading it, was that they (the author) had completely switched Scott's and Stiles' personalities. The sad thing is that, that's a given with most of these fics. Its an interesting phenomenon, this complete refusal to accept what actually happened in canon because it wasn't what they wanted to see happen, or what they thought should have happened.

Sadly, things like that, and fics like the one you described, are all too commonplace, not just in the Teen Wolf fandom but in fandom in general.

The thing with fics like the ones you mention is that people think that just by adding any kind of diversity that they'll get some kind of Woke Points and a free pass to do whatever they want. The sad fact is that, modern media has made this a precedent, with studios throwing on a minority character here or there, usually in either a supporting or antagonist role, and use age-old tropes and stereotypes without a thought to the negative impact that has on people.

Despite what that anon (who had been strangely absent for a while) seemed to think, I'd be more than happy if they kept Scott (or Braeden or Satomi or any minority character) out of their fics, because all they do is use them as villains and scapegoats so that they can "redeem" (despite having no clue as to what a redemption arc actually entails) the villains of the show because "they're purdy!" But therein lies the conundrum, because if they were to exclude the characters of color that they so often villainize, then they'd have no one to blame for the problems that "the real heroes" face.

Its a downward spiral that has no end in sight. Or maybe an ouroboros would be more fitting, because the cycle just keeps repeating itself.

I try to stay away from fics anymore, because I can't read anything, particularly in the Teen Wolf fandom, without applying over a dozen filters to make sure I don't stumble across one that completely contradicts canon, aka, what I actually liked about the show to invest all this time and energy in.

#russianspacegeckosexparty #fandom racism #teen wolf fandom problems

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kalakilo · 4 years

Text

the empty text box answer hall of fame

over 400 of y’all took my stupid uquiz. why.

an anon ask requested me to show my favourite answers to the little text box at the end so i spent like two and a half hours going through every single answer AGAIN since i hadn’t screenshotted any while looking through them the first time. you idiots are so funny and lovely people and here is a big post going through some iconic answers. i hope this can be entertaining but also it is mostly just for me lol

first of all, in one of the questions i mention that i often leave “i fucked ur mom” in the empty text boxes at the end of most uquizes. this then resulted into 43 of you leaving “i fucked ur mom” in the textbox in some way or another and one person asking: “i wonder how many people wrote “i fucked ur mom” after what you said earlier”. some favourite variations of this include:

as a wise uquiz maker once said “I fucked ur mom”

to quote u, i fucked ur mom <3

i fucked your mom but i thought it was you anyways the pussy was bomb

as I was fucking your mom, I realised that I truly am the sexiest bitch alive

i didn’t fuck your mom, but i did make sure she got home safely <3

and a bonus i also enjoyed: Can you ask your mom if she’s single

no, my mother is not single, and i really hope none of you actually fucked her. that being said i laughed at these every time thank you so much

these next ones i just want to talk about even though the original sender will most likely not even see them. or they just need some context. i just need peace of mind

the first question of the quiz was my favourite one to do because kpop songs are sometimes absolutely fucking bonkers and i wanted to showcase that it was hilarious!!!! i can confirm that not all kpop is like that. i specifically chose the funky ones because i think it does add to character and that is something that i can simultaneously enjoy and also laugh at. but kpop also has amazing lyrics!! it’s not all one thing and kpop is super diverse. i didn’t personally know some of the songs i put in there, i just knew their funky lyrics so i cannot speak for fm but also what the fuck was that song

as you should. carry on. i was very threatening with “do not leave it empty you bitch”

this one was just cute!! idk if you’re going to see this person who sent it but my native language is finnish. chuu is an icon.

one of my questions was if you were a wizard what would you say when you cast a spell and one of those answers was fuck you. this person took it to the next level and i loved it so much i couldn’t stop smiling at this one

listen i’m fuckin trying

this person just completed the assignment. left me a wonderful love letter

and last but not least, this person did everything i told them to do in the actual question. a+ incredible performance!!!

if i could i’d put in all the screenshots i took but since there is a photo limit i believe, i will just write them out exactly as they are. moving on, here are just some random ones that i really enjoyed:

i’m your father, luke

i am so sad, i dont have enough white beads to make a little 3d seed beed chicken sitting down ): i even arranged all the beads i stole from my mom by color, it took me 3 days, and now i cant even make a little chicken ): a little seed beed chicken )’:

you’ll meet the king of fungi in 34 days

today i managed tp find the nether fortress and collect 10 blazerods. im about to beat minecraft for the forst time in my life

Dude every question of this was a riot I love you

Bro I’m just here for the vibe

I think dogs should be able to vote

i killed a man lol

Pebis.

jack sparrow pirates of the caribbean was confirmed some flavor of homo way back when which means HE was disney’s first gay character yet they refuse to give pirates of the caribbean the credit it deserves and they refuse to my calls where I try and tell them they simply must have jack sparrow pirates of the caribbean kiss a man directly on the lips in the next movie

ehhhhhh I’m evil penis boy im gonna steal your penis

I love you, no homo. The homo costs extra

Yo check this out *<|:) he’s in a party hat

theres way too many kpop references in this quiz

\_/____ it’s a slug

that was the weirdest quiz i’ve taken in a while and i truly enjoyed it

My cat is meowing at me i thin i’m going to die today

FUCK (are you pleased)

I wish I was a nac Mac feegle but more than that I wish I could enjoy being a nac Mac feegle

I forgot what this quiz is about already

I hated these questions and have lost 10000 years of my life answering them (no but thanks for the quiz!!!)

on god I was gonna choose the ‘cuddling stray kittens’ option for the how do u sleep question but then I remembered that I actually did sleep in a refrigerator box on my bedroom floor for months when I was like 9 :/ throwback!!!

when i was 7 i put my hand in a food processor while it was running to “see what would happen” and somehow im 28 and still have all my fingers and toes

this last one deserves its own moment. it’s the best message i got:

congrats on the phd doctor bitch!!!

along with all of these messages, i got a lot of song recs (thank you sm!!) and i got so many lovely messages from people saying they liked the quiz or just other generally nice things and i can’t explain how much serotonin these answers have given me. just wanna thank everyone who took the time to write something in there i loved it!!!!!!!

#honestly these all made me so happy #barely anyone will see this post #its just for me #it is very personal #eh ill still tag uquiz #it wont clog up anyones look through the tag #i put a cut there for a reason #uquiz

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healieas · 4 years

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levels of beholding feeding; aka, will this successfully feed me or the eye?; aka, there are actions that beholding avatars are likely to take that may not constitute life-sustaining feeding; aka, the illuminati food pyramid.

the post where i break down what i personally consider feeding the eye to entail, including things that fall under the eye’s “jurisdiction” ( remember that fears are malleable and bleed into each other, and the eye especially tends to overlap with everything else bc it is a gratuitous voyeuristic sack of fuck, but for the purposes of this post i am going to try to focus on what in and of itself is eye fear and if it overlaps well that’s just fun and sexy isn’t it ) but do not feed it, things that engender beholding behavior but are not in and of itself feeding, things that eye avatars need to do to maintain themselves, and things that make the eye sigh and go “ah yes that was great food.” also this does not detail beholding powers. i’m just talking about the food, man. the gifts the eye grants its avatars is another story.

first and foremost, what qualifies something as feeding the eye? how does the eye “eat”? if something falls under the following categories, it feeds the eye: fear of being watched, fear of being exposed, fear of being followed, or fear of having your secrets known to somebody else. if something falls under the following categories, it is eye-related behavior likely performed by avatars, but is not in and of itself “eye food”: pursuit of knowledge, especially at the cost of one’s own health or sanity. obviously the latter can enable the former if that pursuit of knowledge is at somebody else’s expense, but what separates the two categories for me is that, to keep the eye as an entity from spreading so thin to the point where anything can be construed as capital-b Beholding because it involves observation or information, is holding fast to the eye being a fear entity. i.e., something can technically be in the eye’s territory of knowledge, but it does not become eye-related unless there is an active element of horror. of course, what constitutes “horror” is subjective, but i think that narrows down the options and removes, say, doing a book report from beholding. tma has a tight thesis of beholding being the horror of watching something terrible and doing nothing to intervene, or the inherent evil of inaction when one is witnessing an atrocity.

therefore i’m going to make my grading for eye food the following. ( note that like... there’s grey area in between each level where, by taking a lower level to an extreme, you could slide it up to the next, etc. )

level one: are you watching in an obtrusive way? i.e., is this something you should be seeing? are you an active participant? or are you eavesdropping. things that fall into this category include people watching, listening in on conversations, or reading private correspondence. this is the fear of being watched / known against one’s will at play, but only one person ( the avatar ) knows the secrets, so it’s low-level feeding. just hoarding secrets unto oneself gives the avatar what i’d consider a steady drip of water, necessary for life and remaining active, but after an extended period of time with just water, you’re going to want for food.

something like following someone and making them feel watched as more than just a prickling on the neck for an extended period of time would probably start to actually feed the eye a bit, as was the case with the cursed mirror; someone with a constant and perhaps debilitating fear of being watched, facilitated by the actions of a beholding avatar, would advance to feeding the eye.

institutionalized watching in an obtrusive way, i.e. the lack of privacy afforded to inmates in a place like millbank, ratchets up to full eye feeding. again, the longer and more intense the watching, the more intense the fear produced, the more likely it’s going to drift up into actual feeding territory. but as a casual action, it’s not sustainable.

level two: are you revealing to the person that you know their secrets? to distinguish this from the above category, i’m talking about the situation with elias and daisy / martin / melanie -- digging out someone’s secrets and then throwing them in their face, making them feel the despair of being peeled open for examination. what puts this at a lower level than mass exposure is the fact that it is probably only the beholding avatar who’s getting anything out of this. this is semi-solid food to the eye, like a gelatin or pudding or other soft hospital food. you can sustain yourself on it, but try to go for any extreme period of time just doing this and you’re probably going to suffer from malnutrition ( if you want to talk to me about malnutrition and how it actually works, aka you’re getting plenty of calories but not all of the components you need, and historic examples of mass malnutrition, we can totally do that; but i want to make it clear for those that might think malnutrition is just like starvation lite, it’s not -- you can be eating a ton of food every day and if you have no variety and if it lacks the proper nutrients, you’re still going to suffer the adverse effects; all this detail to say that’s what happens to an eye avatar who only feeds by privately exposing someone’s secrets to their face, a slow and conscious wasting ).

constantly harassing someone about their secrets might make your diet a little more diverse, metaphorically, but this category really doesn’t have the same mobility as the previous one.

level three: are you making other people aware of the information you’ve gleaned? this is fear of exposure, where somebody is going to face the fallout and consequences of having something unsavory put on display for an audience. ( yes, this covers body image fears of people in the public eye, which is imo a flesh fear that the eye can also feed upon, but that’s an intense discussion for another post that needs to be handled with nuance. i only mention it to make it clear that like... it doesn’t even have to be something objectively horrid that’s exposed; if the person who is being put on display has a fear of being seen, that’s enough to put it in this category, because it is producing anxiety or discomfort. ) no need for bullet points! this gets more and more intense the wider the audience and the more people talk about it. this is solid beholding food with good nutrition! you could make a beholding career out of this! i’m certain that elias does some feeding by allowing students in to read the dirty laundry of named statement givers ( in addition to slurping the despair of visitors who aren’t going to be helped at all by the institute ). after all, statement givers frequently express fear of being pegged as “insane” or having experienced the denial, pity, or avoidance of their friends and family after their experiences. judgement cast upon vulnerability? eye food.

level four: taking a statement. this is sort of disconnected from the rest and may exist alongside them rather than above them, but canonically, reading and experiencing ( getting into character, allowing yourself to feel the presented emotions ) a statement feeds the eye. notice how jon works through tons of “statements” a week, documents gathered by the institute, but only reads one true statement a week on average. he “steps into the shoes” of the statement giver and re-experiences the terror, often while learning something about another entity and how it functions, increasing his own knowledge of the fear world. in my opinion, this is where we get into the eye simultaneously feeding on what’s offered and feeding on the avatar. jon is exhausted after reading a statement and needs to rest. multiple people state that it seems to take a lot out of him. he needs them to survive, but he also finds the experiences draining. this is a solid cooked meal, and the eye has the digestion of a snake, so if you get one of these a week? you’re good.

level five: taking a statement directly from another subject, though? that’s just feeding. cutting out the middle man and the mental transportation of reading a literary piece ( or listening to a tape, or watching a recording ) means that you just get to feed off the person’s fear, because you are peeling them open and knowing them. this does relate a bit to level two, which is why i said it’s probably more of a horizontal relationship, but the difference for me is that you are forcing them to give an account of their encounter with a fear, thus accumulating knowledge of a lived experience and of the other deities, and you are making a person feel known and exposed, often ( in canon ) in a way that’s abrupt and uncalled for. willing statement-givers do not seem to have the same reactions as the poor people jon yoinks in public. taking statements seems to be compulsory for archivists in particular. whether or not it impacts administrators ( elias ) in the same way is hard to discern. maybe not, or maybe that’s solved by having the institute function the way it does, because all those statements are technically elias’s. ( i also have opinions on how elias feeds every single day but we’ll get to that later. the fear machine of the institute. ) this is good food. this is gourmet. this is why the eye stans jon. feeding just off of direct statements is going to cause your own power to skyrocket because you are eating so well.

there are probably more examples of ways to feed, and if people wanna shoot me ims or asks like “is this proper eye feeding?” i’d be happy to answer with my own takes on the situation ( because these are my own takes lol you do not need to live or die by this headcanon I Just Think My Theory Is Sound Enough For This Blog ). but now we’ll look at behaviors that may indicate a propensity for beholding, or that keep a beholding avatar in shape without feeding them; the exercise counterpart to a healthy diet. presented in bullet point form because these are not as in-depth as the above.

an inclination towards extensive research. not just looking up what you need for a book report and nothing more, we’re talking about going down a rabbit hole of research frequently out of a desire to know more. because this does not necessarily produce a fear response and does not necessarily deal with witnessing horror, it is not feeding ( i think about the idea of true crime beholding avatars and i get a little woozy because like... could it work and be canon compliant? certainly. is it therefore a valid take? it sure is. is it something i’m willing to get into? no, because it makes me personally uncomfortable sadly, because i feel some kinda way about the glamorization of serial killers and so on, and though i think an interest in true crime can be pursued tastefully, it’s so nuanced and so Not Me in particular that i just don’t want to get into it, even if i acknowledge that it’s something that probably exists in the tma universe because the tma universe is uncomfortable horror! )

being a nosy bitch. are you always involved in other people’s business, especially drama? do you subscribe to tea spill youtube channels? are you prepared to drop a hot tweet about something shady a celebrity did? ( THIS IS NOT A CRITIQUE OF OR COMMENTARY ON CALLOUT CULTURE INB4, PLEASE I BEG YOU. ) you have the beholding inclination to dig and reveal secrets! awesome!

a desire to organize and preserve information. i think often about this one because one of the things about the ceaseless watcher is that it knows but does not comprehend. it is not interested in understanding or exploring the nuance of what it observes, which is what makes it so horrific. it doesn’t care, the only thing it’s invested in is watching fear and accumulating knowledge so that it can “say” it has more information than anybody else. this, i think, is why beholding tends to center itself around academic institutions. the idea of gatekeeping knowledge, of an ivory tower, is so beholding-appropriate because if you think about the implications then yes, it’s bad. hoarding knowledge and not allowing other people to learn is not a good thing, and that’s why beholding is so very into it. HOWEVER, I AM ALSO DEEPLY INVESTED IN THE IDEA THAT THIS IS WHAT SEPARATES THE FEAR GOD BEHOLDING FROM ITS HUMAN AVATARS. because the avatars are painfully human! michael is proof enough of that i think! even if avatars consider themselves a different species, at the very least “formerly-human” categorically, they were humans and still have human flaws and inclinations. one of these, for beholding avatars, is organization. it’s putting the puzzle pieces together ( unless you’re bad at it, i’m so sorry jon you’re really trying and i love you, but in this case i think that has more to do with jon’s tendency to shoot himself in the foot / put himself at a disadvantage because he is afraid than a beholding-wide thing ), because the human brain usually wants to understand things. it wants to draw meaning from things. even elias, probably the least human of the beholding avatars we see, has to organize the information he has and put separate stories together to form a larger picture, because functioning in the human world just necessitates doing that! you want to stop another ritual? you can’t just gather different pieces of information and not relate them to each other, you have to categorize them and draw conclusions. and, imo, this is what separates the human world from the post-apocalyptic world. the post-apocalyptic world does not require analysis or organization, it can simply be; that is reality as warped and controlled by the fear gods.

there’s probably more to this but i have talked so much, i think that’s enough for now. anyways i care so much about beholding and how it functions and this is actually my least academic bullshitty piece on it, so yay for that. usually i’m all “voyeurism and The Gaze and how it functions in society and especially media!” but today? today we just talk about good eats.

#➢ beauty is in the eye of the beholder ( headcanon. )#|| i put in a read more because i love you i really almost posted this without it.#|| i had to scramble back up and slap it on.

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