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Bestiaryposting Results: Miscellaneous Sea Creatures
It's the penultimate* Bestiaryposting, and we have sea beasties! Yarrr... okay that's as much as I'm doing of that.
*Strikethroughs explained in the Aberdeen Bestiary section.
Anyone not sure what this is about can consult https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting, which I have fallen terribly behind on updating, but at least after next week I can't possibly fall any more behind.
To read about these Sea Beasties, click here:
For our next and, as I've alluded to repeatedly (assuming I've been counting correctly), last Bestiary Post, click here:
Without further ado, art below the cut.
@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) has all eight here, and has made the majority of them Not Fish to give us a good oceanic variety. The reasoning behind the Alrittraes (see the linked post) is pretty good, I think, and I'm fascinated by the design of the Radwahrekh.
@cheapsweets (link to post here) has given us a similar top-to-bottom oceanic scene in a different style -- these are making me nostalgic for those big illustrations of All The Different Sea Critters I enjoyed staring at as a kid. The Alrittraes is very good in this one too -- I swear I've seen that critter on an old-fashioned Map of the Ocean somewhere. I also like the verging-on-draconic design of the Blochmokan.
@strixcattus (link to post here) has drawn all eight and attached naturalistic descriptions, as is their wont. Honestly I'm always impressed by how well those descriptions scan as Probably Real Animals. I think the designs of the Alrittraes and Blochmokan are particularly charming here, which is becoming a theme.
So, the Aberdeen Bestiary. No illustrations at all in this section, which is extremely disappointing. Probably due to the author's terrestrial bias. After the above list of creatures, the author goes on an extended digression about fish in general, their feeding and mating habits, and... and apparently Past Me was lazy enough to just skim this whole section on account of each folio just being labeled "Of fish, continued".* Which was a mistake, because it does transition back into talking about specific animals (a number of which are 100% not fish).
*I believe the folio labels are based on the manuscript's rubricated headings, so I can't pass off the blame on them for not making note of this.
So next week isn't the last one, because some of these critters are pretty good, and I can't let Past Me's laziness deny them their time in the spotlight. Once I've typed up this post, I'll go queue up another one to be the actual final Bestiaryposting. A Bestiarypostscript, if you will.
Anyway, the critters from this post.
Alrittraes
I think the water-spout thing flagged to many that this is the whale. Here's the unredacted end of that entry:
Whales are beasts of huge size, so called because of their habit of drawing in and spouting out water; for they make waves higher than other sea creatures; the Greek word balenim [balein] means 'to emit'. The male is called musculus; for it is alleged that the females conceive by intercourse.
In fact, the Ancient Greek phállaina just means 'whale'. (Its original etymology is apparently obscure.) I checked into what balein and balenim might mean just to be sure -- the former is Dutch for 'baleen', which makes sense. The latter is apparently the Czech word for 'package' in either the singular instrumental or plural dative form. So... I don't think this etymology is correct, is what I'm saying.
The bit about conceiving by intercourse, I think, is because they're mammals. Someone either made some observations about genital anatomy or actually observed whale sex out on the high seas somehow, and this was noted as unusual because fish aren't supposed to do that. (The medievals were fully aware of the external fertilization process, they just didn't think it counted.)
I have no idea why this means it is called musculus, and the Oxford Latin Dictionary is not helping.
I was about to continue with this and make some suggestions about the specific design of a mantlet, but honestly I think it's just the author (or, more likely, Isidore of Seville) making up nonsense etymologies.
Update: here I present the entirety of the entry for "mussel", from several pages later, which I think sheds some light on this:
Musculi are small shellfish; oysters conceive from their milk. They are called musculi, meaning, so to speak, masculi, 'males'.
So... maybe. Still weird.
Blochmokan
So this one confused me a bit, because the translator of the Aberdeen Bestiary simply calls it "flying-fish", but that seemed wrong to me because the heading says:
De belua que dicitur serra: Of the monster called the flying-fish.
And I think to myself, (a) why is it a monster? and (b) there's no way serra translates literally to 'flying fish', what is that word?
In an obvious-once-you-see-it moment, serra means 'saw' (whence English serrated). The definition 'sawfish' is also presented, but this is clearly not the same animal we call "sawfish" in English. Nor is it, I strongly suspect, the same one we call "flying fish". (Not least because bestiaries often have a very hierarchical order to them, and why would the flying fish be number two right after the whale?)
Hoping there is an explanation available on the great wide Internet, I Google "serra" "flying fish", and... who should I see as the number one result but the inestimable @a-book-of-creatures. They explain it better than I can.
Kearmoltir
So this is the dolphin, which is quite odd because apparently it means the "certain kind of fish" described here is not actually this guy like we assumed but instead a species of dolphin. Which is wild.
Meldilragg
The translator just renders this as "sea-pig", which I'm not really sure about, because as far as I know sea-pig or mereswine is an old word for 'porpoise'. Maybe they didn't translate it that way because they know something I don't.
Olnranming
This is of course the swordfish.
Radwahrekh
This might be the sawfish, but it does say serra again, so... who knows.
Shikwaewik
This one is the pike, which tracks; I don't think that needs to be elaborated upon.
Gurnwatlea
This one is the mullet, which I was surprised to see. I'm not sure why, maybe it's just because it seems like such a mundane and commonplace fish. But of course we also had some pretty mundane and commonplace mammals in that miscellany, so it's not really that weird.
Anyway, that's... a portion of our sea creatures.
#maniculum bestiaryposting#maniculum miscellaneousseacreatures#Alrittraes#Blochmokan#Kearmoltir#Meldilragg#Olnranming#Radwahrekh#Shikwaewik#Gurnwatlea
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Around the world around the world
Around the world around the world
Milo - they/them
#artists on tumblr#ibispaint art#animated#my oc#look at them goo#around the world around the world#spinnin#arinuo#I made so many mistakes animating this but lets not talk about that
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I want to talk about one of the most terrifying and interesting bsd characters who almost no fan remembers.
This character nearly tore down the ADA without ever getting involved herself, yet the entire fandom has ignored her because of her terrible anime adaptation.
Who am I talking about?
Nobuko Sasaki
If you haven't read Dazai Osamu's Entrance Exam, then you probably don't even know who this character is, in the anime she is watered down to the lovesick girlfriend of an actual villain, and you probably dismissed her immediately. But in the light novel, we get to see how dangerous and cunning she really is, to the point she nearly gets the better of Dazai and almost causes the ADA to be shut down. (Fukuzawa says he would have closed the agency if they hadn't caught her)
In terms of intelligence I'd put her on the same level as Mori, just slightly below the super human genius characters i.e. Dazai, Fyodor and Ranpo
The Azure Apostle
For those who don't remember, Sasaki was the Azure Apostle, a mysterious figure who challenged the agency with several horrifying cases, which would all lead to mass casualties if the agency failed to stop them. These were; uncovering an underground organ smuggling operation (which the agency failed to stop and which massively hurt their reputation) stopping a bombing of Yokohama port which could have killed hundreds of people, and preventing a commercial aeroplane from crashing into the city (this was not included in the anime)
Each of the people, who committed these crimes, had no Idea they were being manipulated and thought it was their own idea the whole time. There was no evidence that anyone else had been involved at all, and the agency had no way to connect her to any of the crimes. And she even makes the genius move of framing Dazai, the mysterious new member with suspicious knowledge of the underworld and a hidden past, as the true culprit.
In fact, she only made one mistake, challenging Dazai. If Dazai had been basically anyone else, they would have been cornered and arrested, but since Dazai's mind works on a level even master strategists can't imagine, he was able to turn the tables on her.
But even after Dazai sees through her plans, the ADA still has to act exactly the way she wants them too and stop the plane crash. Even when they know they're being manipulated, they still have to do exactly what she wanted.
Finally, after Dazai and Kunikida confront her and get her to admit to being behind all those crimes, even then they are powerless to stop her.
Even after being involved with so many massive crimes, Sasaki herself hadn't done anything illegal, so within the law the ADA is completely powerless to stop her.
They can't arrest her, and if they try then the agency will be put in even more danger as will many innocent lives. She has completely trapped the ADA, and even Dazai in a choice to follow the law and let her go or take justice into their own hands and prove they will stoop as low as she did.
In the end, there she has them in a perfect deadlock, let her continue her mission, or kill her themselves. Both are bad outcomes for the ADA.
In the end, Dazai has her killed by using a third party (Rokuzo) to shoot her, so the agency can't be blamed for her murder, though this ends her plans it deeply scars Kunikida and shakes his resolve in his ideals.
The trauma from this event still haunts Kunikida to this day, we see that when he is affected by Q's curse, Sasaki is who he sees.
So thats the Azure Apostle, a terrifying master mind who nearly brought down the Armed Detective Agency, but now lets look at the other side of this character.
Nobuko Sasaki Herself
We know several things about Sasaki as a character and her history from the light novel. That she was a brilliant criminal psychologist and was internationally recognised despite being so young
,that she was the ex-lover of the Azure King and the real mastermind behind his plans, and that she had very little motivation of her own.
That's not meant to be an insult to the character, she says herself that she never really had much direction in life, even with her incredible intelligence she never really had anything she wanted to achieve.
But the Azure King was the opposite, he had powerful drive and strong ideals, he wanted to punish criminals who couldn't be touched by the law and when he failed to change the law as a bureaucrat, she offered him an alternative.
A very important thing here is that neither of them were manipulating or forcing the other into this path, as far as we see they genuinely loved each other, each providing something the other couldn't, Sasaki her mind and the Azure King his drive.
When the Azure king died, Sasaki had no path of her own to follow, so she simply kept following his, even though she doesn't seem to have really cared about his cause.
All of this creates a very unique character, you can't say she was driven by revenge, because she wasn't really driven at all. It's more like she was running on momentum, she had chosen a path to follow and could not stop even though there was nothing pushing her down it any more.
She's a perfect antithesis of Kunikida and was the best possible villain a light novel about him could have had.
A man who brings his ideals into reality with his own hands against a woman who uses others to enforce ideals that were never hers to begin with.
Anyway, I made this because Sasaki is criminally underrated in this fandom, If you haven't read "Dazai Osamu's Entrance Exam" I highly recommend it, I've only put a tiny fraction of the amazing story here.
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs dazai#dazai#dazai osamu#bsd analysis#doppo kunikida#bsd kunikida#kunikida doppo#bungou stray dogs kunikida#dazai osamu's entrance exam#bsd entrance exam#bsd light novel#dazai's entrance exam#bsd character analysis#bsd characters#Nobuko Sasaki#bsd sasaki
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𝓤𝓷𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓷 𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼
Jacaerys Velaryon x Orphan Reader
Request: „Jacaerys , who grew up together with the Reader - whom Rhaenyra adopted and raised. Over time, their friendship changed, but since they never had the courage to admit their feelings, they gradually began to distance themselves from each other. When Jacaerys is promised to Baela, their relationship is no longer the same. They both blame each other for what happened and continue to minimize their interactions until their father promises her hand in marriage to someone else.‟
A/N: Request written by anon. A very interesting concept that I thoroughly enjoyed writing.
Please remember that english is not my native language, I do not use it on a daily basis, so mistakes can or will happen.
Work contains smut, so minors do not interact.
-Since she found out , she has not spoken a word to me…she hates me - the young prince lamented to his mother , Princess Rhaenyra , who watched him carefully , furrowing her eyebrows in consternation.
-You yourself said that you have hatred for her , why now your indifference to her has changed so drastically? - his mother remarked, looking for every single emotion that bubbled up inside him, wanting to understand what was hidden in the mind of her eldest son.
-I never hated her - he denied , closing his eyes and sighing heavily , frustrated -She is the one who hates me. She barely talks to me , and when she does it's as if ice falls out of her mouth instead of words.
-And why that bothers you now, my sweet boy? - Rhaenyra said softly, coming up to him and putting her hand on his shoulder - What happened that now , so suddenly, you crave her attention and acceptance?
Jacaerys was silent for a while, looking into the distance through the chamber window. Eventually he turned to his mother, his eyes filled with helplessness and anger , which slowly took control over his body.
He wanted to scream , he wanted to break everything within his reach and turn it into dust. But he did nothing and without a word , he walked away.
His steps were rapid , almost violent and hard. He walked through the corridors of Dragonstone as if the beast possessed his flesh , leaving behind a raw anger and tension that made the air heavier. And before he could chase away the fog that clouded his mind , he found himself in the chamber of his sister - Y/n Velaryon.
His dark eyes wandered involuntarily through the empty chamber , while his hands touched things that belonged to her. Stuck in an ocean of memories , he paused at the wooden desk, his fingers gliding over the material adorning the covers of old books , some closed , some open on pages , which she had read many times ,along with him , when they were still full of innocence.
He let himself remember , until his gaze rested on a piece of paper hidden between the pages. And before he could think about the subsequent consequences and implications , his hand uncover a letter , a letter regarding her...and the betrothal with Samwell Blackwood's son.
-Why are you here? - suddenly a female voice called out , a voice belonging to his younger sister , who was standing in the threshold of the chambers , looking at him , frowning her eyebrows.
-You can't marry him - he said , looking at her like an enraged animal, ignoring her question - You can't - he repeated, his body yet again being controlled by anger.
Her eyes rested on the paper , that was held by the young man in a disturbingly strong grip.
-How dare you tell me what to do? - she asked him , her voice dangerously cold -How dare you?!
-I dare to tell you what to do because I am your brother -he growled , clenching his hand into a fist , in which there was a letter.
-Brother? - she made an ironic sound - Our mother may have taken me under her care and raised me as her own, but that does not mean that you are my brother, no brother should be indifferent, cruel and cold as you are - she stated, and every word she spoke sounded like a sea of daggers that were cutting his body.
Jacaerys moved towards her, trapping her between the heavy wooden door and her own body.
-You talk about coldness and indifference? You are a hypocrite - he muttered, furrowing his thick eyebrows in annoyance - You are the one who destroyed the bond we once had. From the moment Baela was promised to me, you decided to destroy everything that was between us.
-If this is what you think - she scoffed, her eyes and voice devoid of emotions - If I make you so unhappy, you should be glad that I'm leaving for the Riverlands. You won't have to listen to me anymore, you won't have to see me.
-Do you truly think that's far enough? Do you think that there is a corner of this Earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment? - he muttered , looking into her siren eyes that seemed to draw him in.
They were both breathing harshly , words hanging heavy between them.
-What do you want me to do? - she whispered, feeling the air between them getting hotter -What do you want me to do to end your torment? - she asked , looking at him with misty eyes.
-I want you…to be mine - he replied - From the moment you let me touch your soft skin, from the moment you let me hear your voice, from the moment you let me admire your beautiful face I wanted you to be mine. Please dear sister , please let me be mine. Don't leave me, just be mine and I will be yours.
In response, the woman embraced his jaw with her warm palm and, moving closer to him, she let her full lips brush his.
-Nyke emagon va moriot issare aōhon Jacaerys (I have always been yours Jacaerys) - she confessed quietly , closing her eyes as his lips began to press against hers , desperate to feel her even closer , even more intensely.
Wet kisses spread over her lips , cheeks and jawline , leaving a trail of saliva behind. Jacaerys kissed her everywhere he could , marking her face with his mouth.
They were both needy , oh so needy. Every touch , every caress ,every whimper , every moan was more desperate than the last.
-Jaes ao yknagon sīr sȳz (Gods you smell so good) - he muttered , moving his nose along her neck , taking in the scent of the oils she sprinkled on her body and the sweat that had managed to appear on her skin through the heat she was in -Ao sylutegon sȳz tolī issa dōna mandia, sīr sȳz (You taste good too my sweet sister , so good) - he whispered in the hollow of her neck , licking and biting her pulse , while his long fingers , lazily hooked into the black fabric of her dress , letting it fall from her shoulders , revealing her firm , ample breasts.
-Oh Jacaerys - she mewled , embracing his head, entwining her fingertips between his wavy hair, pulling at its ends, drawing him closer to her -Don't stop…please don't stop touching me.
-Dōrī (Never) - he breathed out into her mouth , before he attacked her naked breasts , his tongue swirling around the hardened nipples , sucking them and tasting them with his tongue like a man starved.
Y/n moaned quietly , closing her eyes and surrendering to the feeling of a man's mouth on her skin and hands that sensually glided over her thighs , pulling the dark material up , revealing the material of her delicate undergarments.
-Jacaerys - she whimpered , watching as he sank to his knees in front of her.
-Will you let me taste you? - he asked , with rough fingers gliding along her smooth legs , stopping at her rounded hips , revealing her wet , swollen womanhood.
-Yes , yes , yes - she whispered , closing her eyes and tilting her head.
He was gentle and painfully slow, kissing and sucking her firm skin, leaving marks on her flesh as he got closer and closer to where she needed him the most.
She quickly fell into numbness. The amount of attention she was receiving seemed to overwhelm her body, but even so, she didn't want the moment to ever end, not with Jacaerys tormenting her womanhood in such an addictive way. She could compare him to a hungry animal , by the fact with what fervor he devoured her femininity, sampling every piece, not wanting to miss absolutely anything. She let the knot in her lower abdomen burst, spreading through her body the delightful and burning pleasure that was constantly coursing through her veins through the tongue of a man who refused to leave her, feasting on her even longer.
-Please let me feel you closer. I need you closer , closer than you have ever been - he groaned , embracing her frame , securing it in his strong arms and moving them so that he rested on the bed behind them, placing Y/n on his strong legs, immediately proceeding to attack her neck with slow kisses, while his hands crept to her throbbing entrance, which was waiting for him, embracing him tightly as he inserted two fingers into her, sensually moving them.
-Whatever you want , I'll give you whatever you want. But I beg you , don't make me wait my dear brother…I beg you. I need you as you need me…closer than we everwere - she whispered into his mouth , leaning her head towards his.
She moaned, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as Jacaerys removed his fingers from her tight canal , replacing them with his thick and veiny shaft that penetrated her gummy walls, making her hide her face in the hollow of his neck, moaning and panting as she felt her brother pushing inside her for the first time, kissing her cervix with his member, giving her incredible pleasure and pain that only increased her desire.
He tried to be gentle and slow, but the nails digging into his back, the melodious moans at his ear and the warmth of his sweet sister's body made him rough , almost violent , taking advantage of her trembling body , which seemed to melt into his.
-Ñuha jorrāelagon (My beloved) - Y/n whined , feeling the recently discovered pleasure grow in her lower abdomen, forming another knot ready to burst at any moment.
-Ivestragon nyke iksā ñuhon (Tell me you're mine) - the prince growled, thrusting into her harder, making her feel as if his manhood was deep in her belly.
-Iksan aōhon, iksan aōhon, mērī aōhon! (I'm yours, I'm yours, only yours!) - Y/n announced, grabbing his wavy curls, pulling them tight as an electrifying sensation went through her body, making her almost blind with pleasure.
-Arlī , ivestragon ziry arlī (Again , say it again) - he demanded, attacking her neck.
-Iksan aōhon (I am yours) - she repeated, bringing their foreheads together.
Yours. Yours. Yours.
After everything, she was finally his.
#house of the dragon#hotd#asoiaf#house targaryen#house of the dragon x reader#hotd x reader#hotd smut#house of the dragon smut#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader smut#jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader#jacaerys velaryon smut#house velaryon#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys x reader#house of the dragon fanfiction#my writing#jacaerys velaryon fanfiction
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Spider-Man: Across the Spiderverse comes out later today so I wanted to write a post reflecting on my journey and experience working on this movie. So many people have supported me through this and I am so thankful to each and every one of you!
Text version of this post under the cut:
Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse comes out tonight. It feels really weird to be typing that out right now. I worked on the movie as a visdev artist for the last 2.5 years, from 2020 to 2023. Long post incoming.
There are a lot of reasons why I'd consider this film to be one of the most ambitious animated films to ever be made. As artists, we were asked to push ourselves far beyond our comfort zones and do things that had never been done before in animation.
Every time we reached a point where most people would say "this must possibly be as creative and weird as it gets," our entire team of artists and animators would smash right through the ceiling. The driving direction for the visuals of the film was to push the limits of every single frame; to challenge audience expectations and make something truly original.
The best thing about this film was that there wasn't a single boring day working on this movie. The hardest thing about this film was also that there wasn't a single boring day working on this movie.
There were times while working on this where the imposter syndrome hit me hard. This was my first big movie, and what a hell of a first movie to get thrust into.
I came in only a few years out of school with absolutely no idea what the hell I was doing. I constantly feared that someone had made a mistake in bringing me onto this film, and I was going to let everyone down. There was a solid chunk of those 2.5 years where I wasn't sure if animation was the right path for me.
If there's anything I could tell my past self it would be this: there are so many people who love you and believe in you. There will be a time when you get to stand on the other side of it, look back on everything and see how far you came.
I'm still working on self-acceptance every day (it will be a lifelong struggle, I'm sure), but I'm glad I didn't give up on myself. I'm proud of myself and my contributions to this film, and I'm certain that this movie will continue to change and shape the animation landscape just as the first one did. That's truly a special feeling to have been a part of. I am so incredibly grateful to every single person who helped me along this journey.
Here come the thanks:
To the ENTIRE visdev & art crew- it's been an honor getting to work alongside each and every one of you. My jaw is literally still on the floor from seeing your incredible talent day after day.
I want to thank Tiffany and Felicia especially for being there for me through tough times- I admire and respect you both so much as artists, and even better than that, my life is greatly enriched for being able to call you my friends.
Thank you Patrick and Dean for taking chances on me, teaching me so much about art and what I'm capable of, and encouraging me along the way. To Aymeric, your art is one of the reasons I initially became interested in animation and you have been one of the kindest & most empathetic mentors I could ever have asked for.
I want to thank my wonderful parents for believing in me always and raising me into the person I am today: everything I do in life is to make you proud. To my brother Andrew who is perpetually awake at 3 AM when I need someone to talk to- thank you for always picking up the phone and making me laugh.
And finally to my partner Luke for making me grilled cheeses on all of the difficult days, for never getting sick of me even when all I would ever talk about was work, and for patiently and steadfastly loving me throughout this entire thing. I don't think I could've done it without you.
Starting tomorrow I will begin posting and sharing some of the art I made for this movie; I'm looking forward to sharing some of my personal favorites with you. I hope each and every one of you enjoys Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse when it hits theaters later today!
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— CHARITY
pairing: dark!president!coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader
summary: president snow was praised for his love and devotion to his wife, a cripple. if only they knew how you’d ended up that way.
warnings: violence, basically torture, unhinged coryo, obsession, forced marriage, short fic
a/n: based on this request, this is actually insane
what an angel he is.
the capitol viewed your dear husband as nothing short of a saint. an amazing president, an even better husband. of course they all knew about you, his dear wife, the one who swept him off his feet.
the start of your marriage was torture enough for you, having been forced into it by your parents. all they could talk about was what a sweet man coriolanus was. how accomplished he was. it didn’t matter what he’d been in the past, he had built himself up again and he was undeniably coveted by many. you should be thanking him for choosing you.
yet you couldn’t help but feel annoyed.
you’d already told him you weren’t interested. you weren’t charmed by the copious amounts of gifts he’d sent your way. the poetry books that you were sure you’d never talked about to anyone else, only written of in your journals and read at home. the pretty dresses and jewellery but the only gift you’d accept of coriolanus’s was his absence from your life.
and he couldn’t handle it so he went over your head and enticed your parents.
you hated him with your whole soul and every bone in your body whilst he worshipped you. “you look gorgeous, fit to be my wife.” you stood in front of him, hand in hand, wedding dress donned and ready to marry.
you wanted to punch him in the face yet you held your breath, and smiled at him as well as the guests, of which you knew only a few. he kept you restricted, as if on lockdown in your own home. he was like a leech, feeding in your happiness and you’d been sucked dry. coriolanus was the worst possible thing that could’ve happened to you and you wouldn’t let him win.
so you ran.
you’d made it about a few steps down the street before his sleek black car pulled up, his driver walking around to you whilst you backed up, all the way against the tall, black bars of your home. prison.
“did you think you’d get far? that i’d let you? you are my wife, my responsibility, you are here for me. i was trying so hard to give you space, to let you adjust and you took advantage of my generosity.” his words were filled with spite, each word piercing your skin.
he was truly insane.
“generosity? generosity? you forced me into a marriage and expect me to kneel down and kiss your feet for this? for me to not fight back? i have never loved you nor will i coriolanus.” you were a cornered animal, only being able to lash out, bad mistake. the sun reflected off of the crowbar in his hand, twirled between his hands as he stepped out of the car, you were shrinking into yourself whilst he grew taller.
a selfish man stealing the oxygen you needed, the freedom, and now, your abilities.
“how many times must i correct you, it’s coryo darling.”
the unspeakable pain broke your heart, your throat raw from the shrieking and screaming. eyes stinging at the touch of a hand, puffy and sore. blood drawn from your lips tasted metallic and odd, yelling seemed to do nothing so you resorted to biting down on anything.
he’d shattered your legs.
you’d never walk again.
you’d have to rely on him.
you were confined to a wheel chair for your life.
he now controlled where you went.
you’d never be able to move on your own.
in your desperation to escape you’d overlooked and underestimated coriolanus’s obsession for you. he knew the second you’d stepped out of the home, either he was waiting for it or was always ready to come home. whether it was a trap or just bad luck, you were stuck.
most of panem viewed your husband to be an absolute angel, he could have remarried, he could have turned you away yet he stuck by your side, ever the supportive partner. how lucky you were! the rest of them saw you as a chore, someone undeserving, unable to provide for your family. he was a nice man.
you were just charity.
#hunger games x reader#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x fem!reader#dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader#dark!coriolanus snow x reader#yandere!coriolanus snow#yandere coriolanus snow x reader#hunger games fic
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@bigskyandthecoldgun made this very big-brained post about the perfect miscommunication potential of Eddie's heart monitor betraying his feelings for Steve while he's recovering. @mostrizzaward asked me to write it and how could I say no to that :D
The first time Steve sets foot in Eddie's hospital room is terrifying. Eddie is as pale as a dead man. He has dozens of wires attached to his body, that are connected to just as many machines and monitors displaying complicated graphs, all softly beeping at varying intervals. Everyone in the room talks in soft, grave voices and all the nurses and doctors have matching serious frowns on their faces.
But what seemed to be impossible happens on a dreary Wednesday afternoon in April: Eddie opens his eyes for the very first time since he passed out in Dustin's arms. Steve is at work when that happens, but rushes to the hospital as soon as he can, and suddenly Eddie's room seems a lot less terrifying than before. Because Eddie is grinning at him from his bed, even though he's still pale and weak. He's not only alive, he's awake. It's a goddamn miracle. His wide grin is familiar despite the big scar that has marred his cheek. Fuck, Steve doesn't think he'll ever be able to put into words how much he missed that smile.
Eddie rasps his name as a greeting and Steve comes closer to the bed. But then, something weird happens.
The machines around Eddie's bed are still beeping, but there's less of them now. The electronic symphony of noises has been reduced to a duet of two different beep patterns that are clearly distinguishable from each other. And one of them speeds up rapidly when Steve leans over the bed in an awkwardly angled attempt to give Eddie a hug.
“You okay?” Steve asks, worried. He wonders if he should call for a nurse.
“Yeah, man,” Eddie mumbles. His eyes flash towards the monitor in question for a second and a blush creeps over his white cheeks. He seems ill at ease; Steve can't quite put his finger on it but there's something weirdly awkward about the whole thing. He seems otherwise fine, though, so Steve decides no nurses will be necessary.
He clears his throat and takes a seat in the chair next to the bed. For a moment, he wonders why he's even here. They weren't exactly friends before all of this happened. It would be perfectly normal for Eddie not to want him around – and yet here he is, visiting him in the hospital like it's the most normal thing in the world. What is he even doing here?
But then, Eddie starts talking about how his uncle was with him when he woke up and gave him this book he's been wanting to buy for ages.
“He cried, Steve, I've never seen him cry in my life, but he was bawling, I'm not kidding!”
Despite his animated tone, Eddie's voice is still weak and his eyes keep falling shut even while he is talking. Steve knows that he shouldn't overstay his welcome and let Eddie rest, but he finds himself too captivated in how alive Eddie is, even though his whole presence – his loud voice, his broad arm gestures, his expressive face – seems a little bit toned down. So when Eddie tells him with a vague gesture to his nightstand that he tried to read his new book, but found himself too tired to focus properly, Steve finds himself proposing to read it to Eddie before he even realizes what he's doing.
And then the weird thing happens again. Eddie starts smiling at the exact same time the heart monitor accelerates.
Steve chooses to pretend like he doesn't notice. Instead, he takes the book from the nightstand and flips it open on the first page. He starts reading aloud, but he can't really keep his attention on the words that come out of his own mouth. He can't help but feel like he made a mistake. Is the heart monitor signaling to him that his presence is making Eddie uncomfortable? Shouldn't he have left Eddie alone to rest when he started getting tired? Why the hell did he ever think it'd be a good idea to read to him in the first place? He's never been a good reader, and certainly not a performer like Eddie. So he awkwardly stumbles his way through the words on the pages, in no way able to keep up with the complicated plot and no doubt failing spectacularly in the use of voices and appropriately ominous pauses and whatnot. Whenever he glances up from the pages, he finds Eddie leaning into his pillow with his eyes closed and a faint smile around his lips, only to find out he's lost track of where he was when he directs his attention back to the book in his hands.
It doesn't take long until Eddie's breathing becomes audibly deeper and evens out. Steve softly closes the book. He allows himself a few moments to do nothing but stare at Eddie's face and be grateful for the absence of a breathing tube between his lips, showing that he's only sleeping this time. Then, he gets up and tiptoes out of the room.
***
The weird thing with the heart monitor keeps happening every time Steve visits Eddie. It happens when he greets him, when he starts reading to him, and especially whenever he helps him adjust his position in the bed he's still chained to. Every time they touch, every time Steve gets close to him in any way, like clockwork. And every time, it's paired with some kind of physical reaction on Eddie's part: a blush on his cheeks, a somewhat forced chuckle, or sometimes even a badly concealed flinch, away from where Steve's hands are touching Eddie.
Steve pretends not to notice it, for Eddie's sake, but it can only happen so many times before he has to face the clear and obvious truth here: his presence is making Eddie extremely uncomfortable.
One part of it still doesn't make sense, though: Eddie actually asks him to read to him or to help him sit up or lie down again, and the next thing he knows, Eddie will suddenly be avoiding his gaze and that goddamn heart monitor will make it sound like Eddie is trying to break a sprint record instead of lounging in his bed, and he'll recoil from Steve's touch like he doesn't want his hands anywhere around him.
Steve muses over Eddie's odd behavior for days before he comes to the only logical conclusion: Eddie is actually repulsed by him and is too polite to tell him the truth. It's the only explanation that makes sense. It's just like what Steve realized so clearly that first time after Eddie woke up: they weren't friends before this, so why should they be now? Steve has no business being at his bedside all of a sudden, and Eddie doesn't have the heart to be mean to him and spell that out for him.
He can't even blame Eddie for it. For most of the time they've known each other, Steve was a major asshole, everybody knows that. Sure, they're twenty now and Steve has moved past high school stereotypes when he got close to Robin, but still... Those stereotypes made up everything about who they were, how they were perceived and who they interacted with for four whole years of their lives – six even, in Eddie's case. Eddie doesn't have any reason to want to let that go like Steve did.
He would never admit it to anyone, but the conclusion he reaches breaks Steve's heart: he should stay away from Eddie. Eddie has every right not to like having Steve around and Steve certainly doesn't want to add to his discomfort. He has been through enough, Steve wouldn't want to make this whole long and painful process of recovery even worse for Eddie by imposing his unwanted presence on him.
It doesn't matter that Steve has started to look forward to his hospital visits like they're the very best part of his week. It doesn't matter that Steve's heart starts racing for whole other reasons than Eddie's whenever they're close, whenever they're touching or whenever Eddie is smiling that beautiful smile of his. It doesn't matter that Steve wants nothing more than to keep reading to Eddie even though he still doesn't have a clue what that stupid book is about. None of it matters, because that's simply the price one has to pay for being an asshole and a bully in high school.
It doesn't matter, because there are way worse things than the guy you've developed feelings for secretly harboring a grudge against you. He still has Robin, he still has his little nerds, he even has Nancy back; as a friend, this time, which is honestly better than things ever were between them. He has the knowledge that Eddie survived and will be getting better with each passing day. Maybe he can start dating again, find a cute girl with blue eyes and blonde hair who doesn't remind him of the one person he can't be around, and it'll all be fine again. It doesn't matter.
Update: there's now a sequel post :D
#truly the ultimate idiot4idiot couple#don't mind me rambling about stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#fanfic#fruity ficlet
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hi again! so I've been meaning to send a request, but before i go about it I wish to say it's completely okay if you're not inspired by this, or if you simply don't want to write it, i would hate myself if I made you overwhelmed or smth. love you anyways 💕 so for the request: reader who's autistic. she's not very talkative nor socially active, never had a boyfriend, has one or two friends, yet somehow rafe notices her and finds her endearing. she's okay being herself with her friends, like she's funny, kind and passionate about her interests (like geek stuff, fantasy books, animals and such). she has zero flirting experience and is always dismissive towards rafe bc she doesn't think someone could like her romantically, and she's always suspicious of people bc they've wronged her in the past (in my experience as an autistic person i tend to believe everything ppl say and am kinda naive, so ppl played me or said unrealistic things and I believed them, which then is a reason for laughter, now I'm always suspicious to ppl's intentions). I'm giving you creative freedom with this, just wanted an autistic reader for once :) if you feel like writing it but need to know more abt autism, you can just post question and I'll answer in your asks, if that's okay. Just a reminder again before I go: feel free to decline this request, I know it might not be something cool to write and that's okay ☺️ love you lots, thank you for your time!
i tried my best, hope you like it 🫶🏼 and if you don't lmk so i can do better!! this was really fun since it's a compeltely new topic of inspiration. kinda left an "open" ending bc i couldn't make my mind up lmao. thank you for the resquest and sorry it took me a while to finally do it 🫂
got dreams but i can't make myself believe them - r.c
paring: rafe x autistic!reader word count: 6.9k
The party was a mistake. You knew it the moment you walked in, the thumping music and crush of people making your skin crawl. Your friends had been relentless, insisting that you needed to “get out more” and “live a little,” despite your repeated attempts to explain that “getting out” meant something different to you.
But somehow, you’d caved, and now you were standing awkwardly in the corner of a stranger’s living room, clutching your book like it was a life vest. You needed to stop letting them drag you everywhere.
It was the typical college party scene, at least the one's you'd heard or read about before. Red solo cups everywhere, groups of people huddled on couches or pressed together on the so called dance floor, and a few already-drunk guys yelling loudly in the kitchen.
This was supposed to be fun?
“Just stay for an hour,” they said. “If it’s really that bad, you can leave.”
Right. Except an hour felt like an eternity when you were trapped in a sensory nightmare. You took a deep breath, scanning the crowded room. There were people everywhere—laughing, dancing, chattering loudly in clumps—and the noise was a constant, overwhelming buzz in your ears.
This was definitely a mistake.
So, you did what you always did in these situations: you found a place to hide. After walking through the drunk college students, you eventually ended up on quiet nook near the back of the house. It was a small room, probably some sort of den or study. Blessedly, it was empty. With a sigh of relief, you settled into an oversized armchair, opened your book, and let the world outside your pages melt away.
Time slipped by as you read, the noise of the party changing into a distant hum. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even notice when someone stumbled into the room until a loud crash jolted you out of your fictional word. He nearly tripped over his own feet, catching himself at the last second with a slurred, “Shit.”
You looked up to find a guy standing unsteadily in the doorway, blinking blearily at you. He was tall, with tousled hair and a loose, easy grin that spoke of far too many drinks. His eyes were a striking blue even in the low light, and it took you a second to place him.
Rafe Cameron.
Oh, God. You knew him—well, of him, at least. He was in your sociology class, always sitting a few rows behind you with his gaggle of equally charming friends. He’d never spoken to you before, though, and you’d never had a reason to pay him much attention.
Until now.
Then his face split into a lazy grin, and he swaggered—no, stumbled—into the room, somehow managing to make even that look effortless.
“Heyyy,” he drawled, leaning heavily against the arm of the chair across from you. “It’s… it’s you.”
You blinked at him. “Me?”
“Yeah,” he slurred, squinting like he was trying to see you clearly. “T-The girl from my class. The quiet one.”
Your stomach did a weird flip, part confusion, part disbelief. “Okay?”
“Yeah.” He nodded sagely, as if you’d just confirmed some great truth. “You’re the uh, the smart one. With the books.” He gestured vaguely at the one in your hands. “Always sittin’ up front, all… all cute n'shit.”
Your cheeks burned. Was he seriously calling you cute? No. He was drunk—really drunk. He probably didn’t even know what he was saying.
“Do you need help?” you asked cautiously. “You look—”
“I’m fine,” he cut you off, straightening up as if to prove it, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way he swayed on his feet. “Needed to get away from those idiots out there. Too many people.”
You almost laughed. Rafe Cameron, overwhelmed by people? The guy who was always surrounded by friends, girls practically draped over him like accessories? But he looked sincere—well, as sincere as a drunk person could look.
“Why don’t you sit down?” you suggested, gesturing to the empty chair. “You, um, might fall over if you don’t.”
“Pfft, I’m not gonna—” He paused mid-sentence, wobbling precariously. Then, as if he’d just made the smartest decision of his life, he plopped down in the chair, sprawling out like he owned the place.
“See? Told ya m'fine,” he said, flashing you a lopsided grin.
You couldn’t help but snort. “Right.”
He looked at you then, really looked at you, his gaze roaming over your face “What’re you doin’ here?” he asked abruptly.
You glanced at your book, then back at him. "Reading?”
“No, I mean… here,” he insisted, gesturing vaguely around the room. “At this shitty party.”
You shrugged, feeling awkward. “My friends dragged me. I didn’t really want to come.”
Rafe’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and for a moment, he looked almost sober. “Yeah, same.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
He smirked, a flash of the cocky, arrogant guy you’d seen in class. “Yeah, well… they’re fucking assholes, but they’re my assholes, y'know?”
You didn’t, but you nodded anyway. “Sure.”
“So, what’s that book about?”
You hesitated. “Um… it’s a fantasy novel.”
“Fantasy, huh?” He tilted his head, eyeing the cover. “Like wizards and dragons n'shit?”
“Sort of,” you admitted. “It’s about a girl who finds out she has magic and goes on a quest to—”
“Save the world?” he finished with a mock-solemn expression.
“...Yeah,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “But it’s more complicated than that.”
“Bet it is,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on you. “You’re really into that stuff, huh?”
You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Why?”
He shrugged, his smirk softening into something that almost looked like genuine interest. “You looked happy, talkin’ about it.”
Your heart did another weird little flip, and you frowned, pushing the feeling down. He was drunk. This didn’t mean anything. He probably wouldn’t even remember it in the morning.
But then, his eyes drifted shut, his head lolling back against the chair. Within seconds, he was snoring. You sat there, stunned.
What the hell had just happened?
Three days later, you were sitting in your usual spot in the lecture hall, flipping through your notes. Class was about to start, and the room was filling up with the usual pre-lecture chatter. You were just getting settled when someone slid into the seat beside you.
You glanced up, expecting one of your friends. But it wasn’t.
It was Rafe.
“Hey, friend,” he said casually, like you hadn’t left him passed out at a party a few nights ago.
You stared at him, completely disoriented. “Hi?”
He grinned, leaning back in his chair like this was completely normal. “Didn’t think I’d forget about you, huh?”
Your eyes narrowed. “I… yeah, actually.”
Rafe’s grin widened, and he leaned in closer, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, princess,” he murmured. “I remember everything.”
Did he just give you a nickname?
Your stomach dropped. “What?”
“Yeah.” He crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “You, sitting there all cute with your book, talking about magic and shit. Thought I was too drunk to remember, huh?”
“I—” You stared at him, completely off balance. “Why are you here?”
“Because I want to be,” he said simply. “Got a problem with that?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “No?”
“Good.” He flashed you a grin, all cocky charm. “So, you gonna tell me more about that book, or what?”
You gaped at him. “You actually want to hear about it?”
“Why not?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “It made you smile.”
And for some reason, that simple statement knocked the breath out of you.
“Okay,” you said, still unsure if this was some kind of elaborate prank.
But Rafe just leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I’ll stick around.”
The next few classes were…weird, to say the least. Ever since Rafe decided you were his new "friend," he’d taken to sitting beside you every lecture, plopping down in the empty seat as if he’d been there all along. It was confusing. Most of the time, he’d breeze in at the last possible minute, sauntering up to your row without so much as a greeting and settling into the chair with that infuriatingly self-assured smirk.
You were already seated, your notebook open and your pen poised to start taking notes when he dropped into the seat beside you with his usual nonchalance. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, casting you a sidelong look as if daring you to acknowledge him first.
“Hi,” you said quietly, eyes flicking back to the front of the room.
“Hey, princess,” he replied, voice low and teasing.
You kept your gaze firmly on your notebook. You’d quickly learned that the best way to deal with him was to pretend his presence didn’t affect you—no matter how much his proximity messed with you.
He’d spent the last three classes nudging your foot under the desk, passing snide comments under his breath, or leaning over just close enough to murmur sarcastic observations about whatever the professor was droning on about. And today was no different.
The lecture started, Professor Callahan launching into her usual detailed overview of sociological theory. You tried to focus, pen flying across your notebook as you jotted down her points.
“Is she always this boring?” he whispered, leaning in slightly so his arm brushed against yours.
You stiffened, eyes fixed on your notes. “If you listened, it wouldn’t be so boring.”
He snorted. “Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna waste my time listening to her go on about… what is it today? Class structure?”
“Yes,” you hissed, refusing to look at him. “And if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to—”
“You’re going to what?” he challenged, his grin audible in his voice.
You snapped your mouth shut, trying to ignore the way his leg brushed against yours under the desk. He was doing it on purpose—nudging your knee every so often, shifting just a little closer until the faint scent of his cologne surrounded you. It was infuriating. And yet, when you glanced sideways at him, he was looking at you with that maddening, lazy grin that made your heart stutter.
“Just pay attention,” you mumbled, cheeks warm.
“Why would I do that when I have such a pretty view right here?”
Your head whipped around, eyes wide. “What?”
But Rafe just smirked, his gaze drifting lazily up and down your face before flicking back to the front of the room as if he hadn’t just made your brain short-circuit.
“Relax, princess. Just messin' with you.”
You swallowed, trying to refocus on the lecture. His attention was like a physical thing—intense and all-consuming. It made you uneasy.
Determined not to give him the satisfaction, you forced yourself to look at the professor, tuning out the heat of Rafe’s gaze. Professor Callahan was in the middle of explaining something about social hierarchies when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
“Mr. Cameron.”
The entire class fell silent.
You looked up, eyes widening in surprise as Professor Callahan fixed Rafe with a stern look. “I’m aware that I’m not as pretty as your classmate,” she said dryly, gesturing toward you, “but I would appreciate it if you could pay attention for at least ten minutes.”
A ripple of snickers spread through the room, and your cheeks flamed scarlet. Rafe, however, didn’t even blink, he was completely unruffled and offered the professor a lazy, arrogant smile. “Sorry, Professor. Just got a little distracted.”
Your stomach dropped. He was staring at you, unabashedly.
The professor raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure.” Her tone was dry, unimpressed. “Would you mind keeping your distractions to yourself until after class?”
Another murmur of laughter swept through the room, and you shrank in your seat, mortified. His smirk widened, but he leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.
“Of course, ma’am,” he drawled. “No more distractions.”
Professor Callahan gave him a pointed look, then turned back to the board, resuming her lecture. You sat there, face burning, refusing to look anywhere near Rafe, but you could feel his eyes on you.
“Guess I got you in trouble, huh?” he whispered, leaning closer.
You grit your teeth, still staring resolutely at the front of the room. “Stop talking.”
“Can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice teasing. “You’re way more interesting than this shit.”
“Rafe, I swear—”
“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” he said lightly, sitting back. But he didn’t take his eyes off you. You could feel him lingering, warm and intent, and you wanted to scream. How was he so calm? So unaffected, like getting called out by the professor was just a minor inconvenience?
You hated every second of it.
“Rafe,” you hissed under your breath, finally daring to glance at him. “Will you just—”
“What?” He leaned in again, eyes bright with mischief. “You want me to go back to ignoring you?”
“Stop staring.”
He hummed thoughtfully. “Can’t promise that, princess.”
Your heart hammered, and you squeezed your pen so tightly it nearly snapped. “Why are you even here?”
He shrugged, his expression turning oddly serious. “I like sitting next to you.”
Rafe Cameron—the arrogant, cocky asshole you’d written off as nothing more than a nuisance—had just chosen to stay by your side.
As soon as class ended, you gathered your things in record time, heart still thumping wildly. The room buzzed with students shuffling out, but you kept your head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed.
Maybe if you were quick enough, you could escape before he decided to make good on his new, annoying habit of sticking to you like glue. But, of course, he was nothing if not persistent.
You’d barely slung your bag over your shoulder when he appeared at your side, his tall frame looming over you as he fell into step like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Heading to lunch?” he asked, all casual charm, as if he hadn’t just spent the entire class making you the center of unwanted attention.
“Yes?” You tried not to sound as thrown as you felt, but the way he looked at you—with that infuriatingly lazy grin—told you he could see right through you.
“Cool. I’m starving.” He said it like it was an invitation, like he was entitled to follow you, and before you could muster up a half-hearted protest, he was already steering you through the crowded hallway.
“Wait, what are you doing?” you demanded, glancing around in panic. People were staring, eyes widening as they took in the sight of Rafe Cameron, of all people, trailing after you. Whispers flitted through the air, curious and disbelieving, and you shrank under the scrutiny, feeling painfully exposed.
“Uh, going to lunch with you?” He made it sound so obvious, his voice lilting with amusement.
“I didn’t invite you!” You glanced at him, trying to tamp down the fluttery, nervous feeling his presence always seemed to stir up. “What if I’m eating with someone else?”
He shrugged. “Then I’ll eat with them too.”
You gawked at him. “What?”
But Rafe just flashed you that cocky, confident grin. “Relax. It’s just lunch.”
Just lunch, he said, like this wasn’t completely absurd.
You narrowed your eyes, debating whether to make a break for it, but he was already steering you toward the main quad, his hand ghosting the small of your back in a way that made your skin tingle.
Your heart hammered as the familiar outdoor seating area came into view. Your friends were already there, sitting at your usual table—a small group of two girls and a guy, all talking animatedly. You hadn’t even sat down yet, and they still managed to look up as one, their expressions morphing from curious to shocked when they caught sight of you—and Rafe—heading straight toward them.
“Uh, hey,” you greeted awkwardly as you approached. They just stared, mouths agape.
Emily was the first to recover. “What the—since when do you two know each other?” she asked, eyes darting between you and Rafe like she was seeing some kind of glitch in the matrix.
“Yeah, what’s going on here?” Max, the guy in your small circle, chimed in, his gaze flicking to Rafe warily. “Is this, like… a project thing?”
“No, it’s not—” you started, but Rafe cut you off with a breezy smile.
“Can’t believe y’all kept her to yourselves this whole time,” he drawled, pulling out the chair beside yours and plopping down like he’d done it a thousand times before. “Thought you’d have the decency to introduce me to the most interesting girl on campus.”
Your friends gaped, eyes wide with shock. You could practically see their brains short-circuiting. Meanwhile, you were fighting the urge to smack him upside the head.
“Please shut up,” you muttered under your breath, cheeks burning.
But he just smirked, his gaze sliding over your stunned friends with lazy amusement. “What?” he said innocently. “It’s true.”
“What the hell is happening right now?” Emily demanded, still staring at you like you’d grown a second head. “You—you and Rafe Cameron?”
You sighed, already regretting every life choice that had led you to this moment. “There is no ‘me and Rafe Cameron.’ He just—he’s being annoying.”
“Annoying?” he repeated, feigning offense. “C’mon. I thought we were past that.”
“We are not past anything,” you snapped, shooting him a glare. But that only seemed to amuse him more.
“Okay, back up,” Max interjected, brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you guys even know each other?”
“Uh, sociology class?” you offered weakly, as if that explained anything. “He’s been sitting next to me.”
“Sitting next to you?” Emily repeated slowly, like she was trying to process a particularly difficult equation. “And now you’re… eating lunch together?”
“It’s not—” You looked helplessly at Rafe, who was watching the exchange with that insufferable smirk. “I didn’t ask him to.”
He looked completely unfazed by the mess he’d caused. “What can I say? I like the company.”
“Since when?” Emily shot back, clearly unconvinced.
Rafe shrugged, “Since she started talking to me.”
Your friends fell silent, eyes wide and suspicious as they turned to you, searching for answers. But you just sat there, feeling utterly, hopelessly lost. What were you supposed to say? That Rafe Cameron had decided, out of nowhere, to insert himself into your life? That he was following you to lunch like this was some sort of normal occurrence?
“Look,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s really not a big deal. He’s just—”
“Rafe Cameron is never ‘just’ anything,” Emily interrupted, folding her arms as she fixed Rafe with a suspicious look. “So what are you up to?"
“Nothing,” Rafe said easily, his smile all sharp edges. “Like I said, I’m just getting to know her.”
“Getting to know her,” Max echoed, clearly skeptical.
“Yeah.” Rafe’s eyes never left yours, his eyes gleaming with something that made your pulse flutter. “What’s so weird about that?”
Your friends exchanged looks. You didn’t blame them. This was weird. More than weird. You’d never been the kind of girl to attract attention—especially not from someone like Rafe. Popular, arrogant, and completely out of your league in every possible way. And yet, here he was, acting like sitting with you at lunch was the most natural thing in the world.
“So,” He said suddenly, turning his attention back to the group, “Are you gonna sit here gaping all day, or are we gonna eat?”
Emily blinked, snapping out of her daze. “Uh, yeah, we’re… we’re eating.”
“Good.” Rafe turned to you, eyebrow raised. “You eating, princess?”
You stared at him, “I—yes?”
“Cool. Want me to grab you something?”
You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re offering to get me lunch?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I am. Now, what do you want?”
“I—” You swallowed, glancing at your friends, who were watching the exchange like it was some sort of bizarre performance. “Um, a sandwich?”
“Got it.” Rafe pushed to his feet, his smile smug. “Be right back.”
And then, to your utter disbelief, he sauntered off toward the food line, leaving you and your friends staring after him.
“What,” Max said slowly, “the hell just happened?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I have no idea.”
The awkward lunch with Rafe didn’t end as badly as you expected.
Your friends had spent the entire time shooting you confused, bewildered looks, while he seemed to thrive under their scrutiny, lounging beside you like he belonged. He didn’t flirt—thank God—but he didn’t exactly tone down his usual cocky self either. By the end of it, he’d somehow managed to charm your friends just enough to leave them confused rather than outright hostile. Still, after that lunch, you’d expected him to lose interest, to move on to his usual crowd and forget all about his bizarre little experiment. But of course, he wasn’t known for playing by the rules.
You learned that the hard way two days later.
It was late afternoon, and you were holed up in the campus library, buried under a mountain of textbooks and notes for an upcoming exam. The library was your sanctuary—quiet, calm, and blissfully free of distractions. At least, until Rafe sauntered in. You didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in your notes. The library was busy, students murmuring as they worked, the rustle of pages and the faint clack of keyboards filling the air. You were hunched over a particularly dense passage in your sociology textbook when you felt it—
You stiffened, glancing up cautiously, and there he was.
He leaned against the bookshelf a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you with a lazy, assessing look. He didn’t move, just watched you, his lips quirking in that infuriating smirk when your eyes met.
“What are you doing here?” you hissed, glancing around nervously. No one seemed to be paying attention, but you still felt like the entire room was suddenly staring.
“Studying,” he said, straight-faced.
“Since when do you study in the library?”
“Since now,” he said easily, pushing off the bookshelf and strolling over to your table. He pulled out the chair across from you, dropping into it like he had every right to be there. “What? Can’t a guy broaden his horizons?”
You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re joking.”
“Not today, princess.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as he peered at your open book. “So, what’re we learning?”
“We are not learning anything,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I’m studying. You are… I don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Keeping you company,” he said simply. “You looked lonely.”
Your mouth fell open. “Lonely?”
“Yeah.” He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over your face. “All holed up in here with your books. Thought I’d help.”
What was he even talking about? This was insane. He didn’t just hang out in the library, especially not to “keep someone company.” He was the kind of guy who spent his free time at parties, or on the field, or wherever people like him thrived. And yet, here he was, sitting across from you in the library like this was normal.
“Rafe,” you said slowly, “you don’t even know what I’m studying.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It does if you’re trying to help,” you shot back, frustration seeping into your voice. “You’re—what are you even—”
“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Calm down. Just trying to see what’s got you all riled up.”
You bit back a groan, rubbing your temples. This was absurd. You didn’t need—didn’t want—his attention.
“Fine,” you muttered, turning your textbook around so he could see the page. “I’m going over Durkheim’s theory of social integration.”
Rafe leaned in, squinting at the page. “Durkheim, huh?”
“Yes,” you said, a little impatiently. “He believed that society functions through a collective conscience—shared beliefs and values that bind people together.”
“Sounds boring as hell,” Rafe said bluntly.
“It’s not boring,” you retorted before you could stop yourself. “It’s actually really interesting—he argued that a lack of social integration could lead to anomie, a state of normlessness that causes people to feel disconnected and isolated.”
Rafe stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. At least it felt that way to you.
“What?” you demanded, suddenly self-conscious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
He shrugged, a strange, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. “Just… you get really into this stuff, don’t you?”
Your cheeks flushed. “It’s sociology. It’s important.”
“Yeah, but…” He shook his head, “It’s kinda cute.”
You blinked, your brain short-circuiting. “Cute?”
“Yeah.” He leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded you with a casual, easy confidence that made your heart flutter. “You get all intense when you talk about it. Like, you actually care.”
“I—I do care,” you stammered, “It’s my major.”
“I know,” he murmured. “I like that about you.”
What—what was that supposed to mean? Why was he looking at you like that, like he actually meant it?
Before you could even begin to untangle your thoughts, a shadow fell over the table, and you glanced up to see another student standing there—a tall, lanky guy with dark hair and glasses. He looked vaguely familiar, probably from one of your classes.
“Uh, hey,” the guy said awkwardly, glancing between you and Rafe. “Are—are you using this seat?”
Rafe’s expression changed instantly, “Yeah,” he said flatly. “We are.”
The guy blinked, taken aback. “Oh, uh, sorry, I just—”
“You just can find another table,” Rafe cut in, “We’re a little busy here.”
You gaped at him, mortified. “Rafe, stop.”
But he didn’t even glance at you. He just kept staring down the poor guy, his posture tense and unyielding until, with a muttered apology, the student backed off, scurrying away like he’d just had a close encounter with a predator.
“What the hell was that?” you hissed as soon as the guy was out of earshot. “He just wanted to sit down!”
“Yeah, and we’re studying,” Rafe said dismissively. “No room for distractions.”
“We’re not studying anything!” you shot back, resisting the urge to smack him. “You’re just sitting here, being—being weird.”
“Not weird,” he corrected, leaning in again. “Protective.”
You froze, your mouth going dry. “Protective?”
“Yeah.” His eyes were dark, intense, locking onto yours. “Can’t have just anyone bothering you, can I?”
After the bizarre encounter in the library, you were convinced Rafe would drop this whole… whatever it was. Surely, following you to lunch and then “protecting” you in the library was enough.
So when you found yourself at another party two nights later—dragged along by Emily despite your vehement protests—you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. Because somehow, no matter where you went, Rafe had made it his mission to seek you out.
“Come on, you need to have some fun,” Emily had insisted, half-pulling, half-dragging you through the front door of one of the fraternity houses on campus. The music was already blaring, the heavy bass vibrating through your body. People were packed in the main room, laughing, talking, drinking, the buzz of chatter filling the air.
“This isn’t my idea of fun,” you muttered, hugging your arms around yourself as you tried to avoid brushing against the partygoers. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, exactly—it was just that the noise, the sheer volume of people could get overwhelming quickly.
“Just stay for an hour,” Emily pleaded. “Please? I swear it’ll be more fun than you think. We can dance, have a few drinks—”
“I don’t dance,” you cut in flatly, giving her a pointed look.
“Okay, fine, I’ll dance, and you… can hang out and people-watch,” she amended, undeterred. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you��ll meet someone.”
You gave her a withering stare. “Yeah, because I’m such a social butterfly.”
You sighed, resigned to your fate, and began making your way through the press of bodies. After a few minutes you managed to find a relatively quiet corner in the back, near the stairs, and gratefully leaned against the wall. Maybe if you stayed out of sight long enough, Emily would give up on trying to get you to socialize and let you leave early. It was a long shot, but you could hope.
You hadn’t been there long when you felt it—the now-familiar prickling sensation of someone’s gaze lingering on you. Sure enough, when you glanced up, there he was.
Rafe, in all his infuriating glory, leaning against the wall a few feet away, his eyes locked on you with that lazy focus that made your heart stutter. He looked unfairly good, dressed in a dark button-up that clung to his frame in all the right ways, his hair tousled just enough to look effortlessly cool. And, as usual, he was watching you like you were the only person in the room.
You narrowed your eyes at him, your stomach twisting in irritation and something else. “Are you stalking me now?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you glared at him.
Rafe’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. “Would it be so bad if I was?”
“Yes,” you said flatly. “It would be very bad.”
He chuckled, the sound low, sending an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “Relax, princess. I just saw you standing here all alone and thought I’d come say hi.”
“Hi,” you muttered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now you can leave.”
But he didn’t budge. Instead, he straightened, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few long strides until he was standing directly in front of you, his presence overwhelming.
You tried to step back, but the wall blocked your escape.
“Actually, I was thinking we could, I don’t know, hang out for a bit?” he suggested, tilting his head as he regarded you with a faux-innocent smile.
“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
Rafe blinked, seemingly taken aback by the question. “Why?”
“Yes,” you insisted, frustration bubbling up inside you. “Why do you keep… doing this? Showing up, sitting with me, following me to lunch, acting like—like we’re friends or something. What is your deal, Cameron?”
Slowly he reached up, bracing one hand on the wall beside your head, leaning in so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.
“My deal,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, “is that I like you.”
No. No, no, no.
That couldn’t be right. People didn't just like you. They tolerated you, maybe, or found you useful sometimes, but they didn't like you. Not like that. Not in the way he was implying. You felt panic rising in your chest, like a wave that was too big to stop. You couldn’t stop it.
“You’re lying,” you said shakily, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re just—this is some kind of game, isn’t it? Some—some bet, or—”
Rafe’s expression tightened, his jaw clenching. “It’s not a game,” he ground out, his eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
You swallowed hard, your chest aching. No, this couldn’t be happening. This didn’t make sense.
“I don’t believe you,” you shook your head stubbornly.
His eyes narrowed, “No?”
“No,” you repeated, crossing your arms defiantly. “You’re just… you. You can’t just decide you like me out of nowhere.”
��I didn’t decide,” he murmured, “It just happened.”
Your breath hitched, your heart racing. Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?
“I—” You broke off, struggling to find words, but before you could answer, a loud voice interrupted.
“Yo, Rafe! There you are, man!”
You both jerked back, startled, and you glanced over to see one of Rafe’s friends—Topper, if you remembered correctly—stumbling over, a wide grin plastered across his face.
“What are you doing back here?” Topper slurred, his gaze sliding to you. He blinked, “Who’s this?”
Rafe stepped in front of you slightly, his posture tense and protective. “Doesn’t matter,” he said curtly, “Go find someone else to bother.”
Topper blinked, taken aback. “Whoa, man, chill. I was just—”
“Go,” Rafe repeated, his tone brooking no argument.
Topper stared at him for a long moment, then slowly backed off, muttering under his breath as he disappeared into the crowd. As soon as he was gone, Rafe turned back to you, his eyes softening again.
“Sorry about that,” he murmured, “Didn’t mean to—”
“Why did you do that?” you cut in, your heart still pounding.
Rafe frowned. “Do what?”
“Get rid of him,” you said, shaking your head in confusion. “He was your friend. Why would you—”
Maybe you’d misread him. Maybe he didn’t actually mean any of what he said. He was probably just bored, looking for some amusement—another toy to play with for a little while.
“I wanted to talk to you. Not him.”
You blinked, bewildered. “But he’s your friend.”
He gave a half-hearted shrug. “So? Doesn’t mean I want him interrupting us.”
Us. Like there was an “us.” Like there could ever be an “us.”
You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. “But I don’t understand,” you mumbled. “I don’t get it. You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough,” he said quietly, his eyes holding yours in a way that made it hard to breathe. “More than you think.”
You frowned. It was impossible to shake the nagging feeling that he was just… playing with you. That this was all some sick joke and at any moment, the punchline would hit, and you’d be the idiot.
“You’re just messing with me,” you muttered, taking a small step back to put some space between you. “You’re bored or something.”
“I’m not bored,” he said firmly, stepping forward to close the gap you’d just created. “I told you, I wouldn’t do that.”
“I didn’t ask for any of this. You’ve been following me around, showing up where I am, saying all these things like—like we’re something, but we’re not.”
Rafe stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What are you talking about? You really think I’m just messing around?”
“Yes!” you practically shouted, throwing your hands up. “Yes, I do! Why else would you be doing this? You’re Rafe Cameron, for god’s sake. You don’t even like me. This is just some twisted game to you, isn’t it?”
You stared at him, trying to read his face, trying to find any hint of dishonesty, any sign that this was all an act. But all you saw was that same intensity, that same focus, like you were the only person who mattered.
Your chest tightened, panic grazing at you. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. People didn’t just… like you. They didn’t seek you out at parties or show up in libraries to talk about sociology. Guys like Rafe didn’t choose people like you. There had to be some ulterior motive.
“You show up out of nowhere, act like I’m some project, some… someone who needs your protection—why, Rafe? Because I don’t fit into your world? Because I’m some joke to you and your friends?”
“That’s not it,” He growled, his voice defensive. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t know what I’m talking about?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You haven’t been honest about anything. You haven’t given me a reason to believe any of this.”
“You think I’m lying?
You moved your head again, harder this time. “That doesn’t make sense. You’re—you’re saying things that don’t make sense. I don’t understand.”
He took a slow, poising breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "What doesn't make sense to you?"
"All of this," you replied, your voice quivering with frustration, "You, acting like you—like you actually care. Like you see me. People don’t just do that, not for someone like me. I don’t—" You cut yourself off, not sure how to finish the sentence, your thoughts spiraling.
It wasn’t just that you couldn’t believe him; it was that you didn’t know how to believe him. Your experiences had taught you to be wary, to always look for the catch, because there always was one.
Always.
Rafe's brows drawn together in something that almost looked like concern. "Someone like you?" he repeated, "What does that even mean?"
You swallowed, feeling your insecurities gripping down on your chest. "It means I’m not… like you. I don’t know how to talk to people, I don’t get things right all the time. People don’t notice me, and when they do, it’s usually because I’ve done something wrong, or because they want something from me. That’s just how it is."
He shook his head slowly. "That’s not how I see you."
You opened your mouth to argue, to say something—anything—to dismiss what he was saying, to protect yourself from the disappointment that was sure to come. But Rafe didn’t give you the chance.
"You think I’m messing with you because you’re not like everyone else? Is that it? You think I’m playing some kind of game because you don’t fit into some stupid idea of who’s supposed to matter?"
You wanted to pull away, to recoil into the safety of your doubts, but something in his voice, in the way he was looking at you, made you stop.
"I’m not going to pretend like I know everything about you," Rafe continued, no less serious. "But I know enough to know that I’m not bored. I don’t care if you don’t fit in with my world, or whatever you think that means. I like that you’re passionate about the things you care about. I like that you don’t put up with anyone’s shit—not even mine." A small, almost self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’ve spent enough time around fake people to know the difference."
You weren’t used to this—this kind of sincerity. It felt too real. And part of you still wanted to push it away, to reject it before it had a chance to hurt you. But another part of you—a much smaller, quieter part—was whispering that maybe he meant it.
"Why me?"
"Because you're you," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
For a long, breathless moment, the two of you just stood there, the noise of the party fading into the background. Your mind was still processing everything, but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you feel—just for a second—like maybe you could trust this.
You shook your head, "I’m not… I’m not good at this," you admitted, your voice uncertain. "At understanding what people mean, or knowing if they’re being serious or not. I don’t know how to read you."
Rafe’s eyes softened even more at your confession, and he took a deep breath, like he was trying to figure out how to make you believe him. "I get that," he said quietly. "And I’m not always great at this either. But I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you, especially not about this."
You wanted to believe him. More than anything, you wanted to believe him. But there was still that tiny voice of doubt in the back of your mind, reminding you of all the times you’d been wrong before, of all the times you’d trusted someone only to be let down.
You hesitated, your throat tight. "I don’t know if I can."
He didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you. Instead, he just nodded slowly.
"That’s okay. You don’t have to believe me right now. But I’ll be here when you’re ready."
And with that, he stepped back, giving you the space you so desperately needed. He didn’t try to force anything, didn’t press for more. Instead, he just gave you a small, almost hopeful smile and turned, disappearing back into the crowd.
And as you stood there, your heart still pummeling into your ribs, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong about him after all.
#rafe cameron#rafe#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron imagines#rafe x y/n#rafe x you#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe one shot#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#obx x reader#rafe cameron angst#rafe obx#rafe fic#obx fic#rafe cameron au#itneverendshere works✨#requested#rafe cameron concepts#rafe cameron one shot#outerbanks rafe#fluff#angsty
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put me in the same room as shen yuan and I am violating him in ways that cannot even be conceived
OP, pls elaborate I need it for science, i need to write my dissertation pls pls pls pls pls pls
Top mistakes Binghe has made that I would not because I am superior
1. In the regrets of chunshan extra he poured wine into shizuns hole, and then just let it LEAK OUT?? Fuck off, that was PRIME real estate, you could have poured shots into shizuns ass and then had him sit on your face to drink but no you just let such a great opportunity go to waste.
2. Too respectful. He goes to the water prison and sees shizun tied up, like that first day with the skinner demon when he had his sexual awakening, shizun is on his knees his clothes are ripped off and you walk AWAY? fuck the hell off. No way. If shizun doesnt want to talk to me, I'll pull on the back of that Immortal Binding Cable and tighten it until he can't breathe and has to force himself to talk to beg me to stop
3. Does not bully shizun enough. Shizun is SO easy to bully. The holy mausoleum was like the first time ever Luo binghe really yelled at him in anger and he IMMEDIATELY started crying. That's no. 4 btw he saw shizun crying and didn't fuck him about it. Just absurd. But back to no. 3, shizun is so thin faced it would be so easy to fluster him and he'd only need to fuck him on his demon throne for 3 minutes before shizun would start crying and how many times did Binghe do that? 0 times. He deprived the world of shizun sobbing as he's pounded in front of a demon audience. Literally vile.
5. You're a DEMON your race and cultivators are at WAR because you guys KILL PEOPLE and you've never once hunted shizun down for sport like an animal and thrn fucked him when you cstch him ??? Never locked him in a cage and told him to wear a collar ???? All those times shen qingqiu would see him and get scared binghe would go "shizun thinks all demons are filthy" :(((" instead of "SHIZUN THINKS ALL DEMONS ARE FILTHY 🔥🔥TIME TO PROVE HIM RIGHT!"
okay I'm done ranting for now SHIZUN PICK ME ID KNOW HOW TO DO EVERYTHING RIGHT
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it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.
yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.
it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.
how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.
chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?
how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.
"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.
i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.
#writeblr#warm up#i can't write rn but i have SO much words in here bc im reading the chorus of dragons books#(just started book 4)#and this woman's writing is just LIVING in my brain. let me out!!!#(i read roughly like 2-4 books a week usually bc i go on long walks with my dog but when a book is REALLY good like. it eats my life. )#anyway ...... so like here's a story that idk i've tried to explain to other people as being wild#but maybe im the only one who thinks it is wild???#so i play pokemon go (i just started in jan) bc i love pokemon and as i have mentioned i walk goblin for like an hour in the morning#and i don't like a lot of fitness trackers due to the fact it makes me .sad. but i also wanted the little digital rewards. enter pokemon go#anyway so they make you make friends to complete quests. so i used a reddit thread. i do not usually use reddit. i don't have an acct#i lurked. i just googled like ''pokemon go reddit '' and randomly added a bunch of numbers#i was on that page for all of 15 minutes. there are THOUSANDS of responses on that page.#here's what's wild: in that group of people. even though i am not on reddit and it was one random event once#it turns out one of those people lives in the town i live in. or at least very close. i only know this because#when we send each other gifts. it's from the same freaking area.#i can't ask them to meet up bc pokemon go doesn't have a messaging app lol but like . what are the fucking chances that#a random person posts in a random reddit thread and HAPPENS to get added by someone ELSE from their SAME TOWN#who by pure fucking CHANCE is ALSO playing pokemon go and looking for friends#i googled it there's only 42000 people in my broad region. the .......... smallness ! of the world!!!
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Hii can I request where the reader and Buck broke up but they make up smut
Evan "Buck" Buckley x fem!reader
cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) hurt/comfort
You stared at the photo on your phone of you and Buck, one of the many that you couldn't get yourself to get rid of. You always found it pretty easy to move on from breakups, but you would have been lying if you had said that this one wasn't absolutely painful. Not only was your relationship with Buck the longest one you ever had, but you loved him. You loved him, something you didn't think you'd ever be able to feel in a romantic sense.
Your heart ached as you kept looking at it. You, Buck, and the rest of the 118 had gone to the fair and Buck had won you a stuffed animal that you were holding up with a bright smile on your face. And your favorite thing about it was that he wasn't even looking at the camera. He was staring at you as if you had hung the moon and it had easily become your favorite picture of the two of you. You had loved it to much that it had become the background on all of your devices.
And you still hadn't gotten yourself to change it, because if you had, that would have meant that the breakup was real and you just didn't want to believe it. You missed him and now you had no one to talk to about it since Buck's friends had been yours.
There was a knock on your door and you quickly locked your phone before tossing it onto the couch, making sure to wipe the tears that had fallen. You didn't want whoever was on the other side of the door to see that you had been crying.
What you didn't expecting to see when you opened the door was Buck. He was there, looking like something that walked straight out of your dreams. He was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, his hair was an absolute mess, and you could see some stubble along the bottom half of his face.
"Buck-" you breathed.
"I think we made a mistake," he said, also seemingly out of breath. Had he run there?
"A mistake?"
"Yes. I shouldn't have let you go. I've missed you the moment we ended things. I miss going to sleep with you every night and waking up with every morning. I-I miss you so fucking much and if you'd have me back-" you cut him off by grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him inside. You then pushed him up against the closed door, pressing your lips to his in a messy kiss that he was quick to return.
He hummed against your lips as his arms wrapped around your waist tightly, pulling you as close to him as possible. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip and you let him inside, moaning as it swirled around your mouth, already feeling yourself getting wet.
Buck pushed off of the door and backed you up until you hit the couch, your clothes being discarded in the process. Things were escalating quickly, but you didn't even care. You had Buck back. You had missed him, you had missed his body against yours.
You laid flat on the couch and Buck hovered over you, so close to inserting himself, but he stopped before he could reaching into the pocket of his sweatpants that were right next to the couch but came up with nothing.
"I don't have a condom."
"I don't care if you don't."
"Just this once," he said, pressing another kiss to your lips. "Only because I need you really bad." The last two words came out so needy and whiny and you were convinced that was the hottest he ever sounded.
Buck finally got inside you and the two of you had found a rhythm, almost as if no time had passed since the last time you had slept together. His hands found yours and he intertwined your fingers as he thrusted in and out of you. It was more slow than usual, but he wanted to enjoy it, wanted to take his time celebrating that the two of you were together.
"So good," you moaned underneath him, not even aware of how much you had missed being connected in that way until he had been inside you again.
His thrusts picked up but not by much, still wanting to make this soft and sweet. He wanted to make love to you this time. Wanted to show you how much he had loved you, how much he had missed you.
He watched your eyes glazing over, signaling that you were already getting close. That had to have been a record of some sort for sure. He had thought he had been rusty since he hadn't slept with anyone since your breakup, but clearly he wasn't since he was still able to make you come so quickly.
"Buck, I think I'm gonna-" your words were cut off by your orgasm hitting you, your back arching in pleasure in reaction. You let out a scream and Buck was quick to pull out before placing himself on top of you.
"Still take me so well, hm?" He murmured against your forehead before pressing a kiss to it. He then slipped his hands underneath your back and flipped the both of you over so it was his back that was against the couch.
"Now you're on top," he said. "Rock my world, baby."
You spent the rest of the morning on that couch, spending multiple hours having make up sex, trying to make up for lost time in the week you had been broken up. And with the way you were able to pick up where you left off, it was as if no time had been lost at all. Maybe the two of you really were just meant to be.
#evan “buck” buckley#evan buckley#evan buckley x reader#evan buckley x y/n#evan buckley x fem!reader#evan buckley x you#evan buckley smut#evan buckley fluff
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PAC The Aura You Give Off
HAYLOWWWWWWW welcome back lol I’m here with a quick PAC cos we’re almost there to 2000 followers oooop our tarot event is near!!! So to celebrate my 1985 followers huh isn’t that a Taylor Swift album? 🤔 anyways I’m here to let you guys know and see what kind of vibes you give off. I feel A lot of you like anime! I was pulled to anime images for this PAC and you guys know I do emojis. I also feel Red, Blue,Teal, & Purple are inportant to some of you or are actually the color of some of your auras they can be your favorite colors too maybe that’s how you should choose your pile? Some of you I heard!! Anyways let’s get this going you know this is a GENERAL reading take what resonated and the let the rest ROLL off it’s for someone else!!! Okay bitches let’s fuccin GOOOOOOOOOOO
Pile I
Yo this is deep and intense, I feel that’s the vibe you give off. You give off a death and resurrection vibes, the beginning and end the alpha and omegas I feel like there is plutonic energy about you guys, very scorpionic vibes. Some of you like black or are night owls. I get tortured soul vibes from you, very grungy. But so upbeat positive, unique, rare and goofy it’s like a goth singing 1000 miles by Vanessa Carlton I’m getting those vibes, pink and black vibes. You guys have been through so much shit! You guys give off defeated but thugging through with a smile vibe, happy go lucky. Sunshine on a rainy day I heard. You guys are a cloudy day but it’s still sunny. Very uranian energy too, you guys stand out and I feel you guys suffer for it. Very fun and outspoken. Outgoing! Risk takers and that’s gotten you guys into some deep trouble but you rose out of it! You guys give off soldier through war ptsd fighting for a happy ending vibes some of you have fake it til you make it vibes. Some of you. People see that you’re a warrior who’s been defeated but you’re not afraid of starting over from 0. The baddest period. Some of you may have sun in Gemini ♊️ which means happy birthdays gem babies!!! You’re unique be you and don’t worry about the pain you are the happy go lucky baby you will be ok!! You’re very strong you’ve died and came back so many times the transformations you’ve went through are endless.
Pile II
Ooof! So this pile gives off selfish bitchery vibes, you guys seem so motherly, maternal, paternal, parental, loving. Very caring and sweet but I think you give off insincere vibes like you have to give something to get something from you. I also feel people feel like some of you are players or that you’re heartbreakers, you’re very helpful I feel but people may be reluctant to take your help? Some of you may be Taurus moons?? You like money, luxury, having things, people can assume you’re bougie or stuck up!! You are very careful with who you help, again this is why people may assume the worst about you. You guys are very grounded and earthlyd. I feel like you guys have a lot and you worked for that shit! A lot of you are self made and I heard jealous! They are very fucking jealous of you! Your whole vibe and energy shit what you got too! Even if you don’t physically or materially have a lot. They want what you got, you just have it! youre the it boys/girls/its/thems! You got a lot of haters ! People try to make you guys out to be “better than them”. Idgaf that’s cos you are! You’re regal 👸🏽 🤴🏽 👑. They can’t take you and I feel like you guys defend yourself! You guys are hella motivational too you wanna see your people succeed & make it. You’re a cheerleader cos you clawed your way and fought tooth and nail I heard to make it happen for you and I am all happy for you guys I’m rooting for y’all to keep going fuck the haters and the ones that have negative thoughts Ik know getting the vibe of this guarded energy that people are mistaking for selfishness and that’s on them. Some of your guides are talking and they have attitude and I’m here for it! They don’t play about you and I think it’s cos they know what you had to go through to have what you have so protect that shit with everything regardless of how little or how much you think you have. You have a lot! I love this vibe p2. You are tight as fucc. I love you! Stay true and even if you’re bougie stay having high standards! Stay classy
Pile III
So this pile is a little sad, you guys give sad boy/girl/them vibes. It seems like you guys are very sentimental but you give off the vibe of being stuck in nostalgia if that makes sense. You can be the ones that still wear 90’s style clothes or listen to that music. lol I’m hearing still trying to make fetch work so maybe some of you like mean girls. Gretchen wieners I think her name was right? anyways you guys give off that vibe of being trapped when you’re not really trapped. You guys get into your head a lot! Some of you maybe Scorpio suns and Gemini Jupiters it can even be vice versa. I’m seeing that you’re over-thinkers and when you start thinking bout old times you can travel way back into your memories. Jupiter has to do with expansion and Gemini is mercurial mental energy so I feel like with that you guys are the biggest over-thinkers of this reading! You guys can stretch a thought for miles long! I feel like you’re hella intelligent too! You’re intense and you’re giving, romantic, sweet. You make everyone feel like they’ve met you somewhere before. You give have familiarity vibes. It’s just so easy with you I feel you can make others feel at ease and hella comfortable with you. Your aura and vibe is homely very warm like similar to p2 but more humbling. You’re generous. Kind. I feel like your aura is kind of trapped in a happy dream vibes. I heard happyland? I feel you guys are emotionally invested in your happy memories and good times. I feel in a past life you were trapped in some way. I also think you give off the vibe of being trapped so maybe some of you jail? I’m thinking that a lot of you think you’re deeper shit than you are, a lot of you feel like you’re trapped and you’re truly not. You just have to be grateful for those memories and create more, maybe you’re afraid to leave that happy space but there is a world beyond those happy memories! You’ll be surrounded by so much more happiness creating present love and happiness for yourself!
Pile IV
Okay! So I’m seeing that some of you may be some Aries sun and mercury Virgos. My roasters of this entire reading! You know how to read a bitch down hunny! I’m seeing that you are a wholesome and fulfilled person, who doesn’t rush, you know the value of working hard and waiting for your fruits to grow and ripen. Very family oriented. You know who you are and what you want which is why you don’t rush shit, you know that what’s for you is going to be yours regardless. I feel like this pile here is very humble and confident at the same time! You have a deep balance about you, very passionate yet grounded so you’re not all over the place, it’s controlled. Your circle is little and means the world to you. You are a legacy or you’ll leave behind a legacy honestly! Powerful and passionate energy. I also feel like you know how to manifest this pile gives me magician vibes, you know how to create physical and material things from energy. You’re a great friend; a great hang and a wonderful time. You are amazing and magical, you’re wealth, a lot of you may have wealth or are destined for it, material wealth. You are in charge, you are the boss if there’s a CEO you’re the boss of them; you know what you want and you accept only that nothing less than the best for you. I’m so glad that you have that self love! You’re a leader meant to rule, you give off big boss captain energy. You are meant to have lots of people following your rules or journey maybe admirers? Followers maybe online? I get this vibe that you’re that fighter who never stops punching even when they’re on the ground, you’ve never lost a battle. You’re a champion!
WELP! That’s it guys that’s all! I’m so happy that I can share this cool reading with you guys! Should I do more personal readings like this! I hope that it resonated with you guys and for my patreon group please get your questions in before may ends thank you!
#tarot reading#tarotblr#tarot community#psychic#tarot cards#pick a pile#pac reading#pick a card#free tarot reading#tarot spread#free tarot#your aura#anime#tarot polls#pac tarot#intuitive readings#tarot tumblr#thementalshawty#tarot#pac
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broken trust. [part 3] l Joel Miller
Summary: you used to be very close, but he broke your heart, now your paths have crossed again
Warnings: +18, smut, angst, swearing, unprotected sex (don't do that), guns, blood, infected, Ellie and Tommy appears
A/N: I don't know how many parts this story will have, I suspect maybe two more. I didn't expect anyone to like it anyway. I'm grateful for your feedback though, it means a lot to me. a few people mentioned tagging - @vickie544 @dreamtofus @missladym1981 🖤
[PART 2]
You were gone.
Joel had no idea how hard this would be for him. He was starting to feel strangely familiar feelings, but he didn't want to name them and he definitely didn't want to think about them.
His body was playing stupid jokes on him. He would wake up at night feeling like you were still lying right next to him, or that he would soon feel your arms as you snuggled up to his back. He would look up at every significant sound on the staircase and sometimes he would feel like he heard your voice in the crowd of people.
But it wasn't you. You hadn't been in QZ for a long time.
Joel knew he had made a mistake. You had told him many times that he was obsessed with control, but he had explained it to himself only by the fact that he had already lost so much - he didn't want to lose you too. Only your absence made him realize what he really felt for you. Because if it was nothing, would it hurt so much?
Joel didn't remember that time very well, how he functioned. At some point Tess appeared, then Ellie. He didn't believe he would ever see your face again.
He would see you walking around Jackson with Ellie, or hanging out at a local bar with a group of people you knew. He wanted every moment like this to feel normal to him, but he couldn't shake this strange feeling. The feeling that you weren't real in some way, or that you weren't within his reach.
You didn't talk much. Hardly at all. It had been a few weeks since you'd met, and you'd only exchanged a few pleasantries. Ellie had been spending a lot more time with you, though.
Joel didn't mind, especially when Ellie started complaining that you only let her visit you after school. From what he could tell, you and Doc had been showing her how to administer medical aid, and that could come in handy. And he really enjoyed seeing the two of you in Jackson when you were both laughing and joking.
He'd wanted to approach you many times. But he couldn’t do this.
"You think you can hide here?"
"I'm not hiding." he mumbled and looked towards Ellie.
The girl sat down on a haystack at the entrance to the horse corral. She looked pleased with herself, because she caught him doing something he denied.
"You've been hiding here for days." she continued. "Like you have something on your conscience. The horses won't help you with that, dude."
"You're talking nonsense." Joel muttered under his breath and went back to brushing the horse he was taking care of. "Don't you have anything to do?"
"Y/N went to the neighboring settlement, so I guess not. I wanted to go with her, but she wouldn't let me."
"And she did the right thing." he heard Ellie snort. "You must like her, huh?"
"Yeah, she doesn't treat me like a kid. She's cool."
"What do you talk about when you spend so much time together?"
"And why do you want to know?" The girl stood up and walked over to him, her hand gently running over the animal's body. "It's a girl thing."
"Yeah, of course." Joel sneered.
"Yeah! Periods, ex-boyfriends, sex. You know."
When she noticed Joel's furrowed brows, she burst out laughing.
"God, you're so grumpy!" she laughed, but then she became serious. "What did you do to her?"
"W-What?! What did she tell you?"
"Nothing, that's the problem." Ellie shrugged. "I've tried all sorts of things, but she doesn't say anything about you. Except maybe 'Ellie, Joel knows what's good for you.' and things like that. Boring. But I still like her."
Joel put down the brush and wiped his hands on a cloth. There were definitely things Ellie would rather talk about with you than with him. He didn't blame her.
He even envied her. He would give a lot for a few minutes with you, without all the mess that was between you and that you pretended not to see.
"Want to go for a ride?" Joel nodded towards the horse.
"Yeah, it'll be fun."
Ellie helped him prepare the horses, but she had barely sat in the saddle when Tommy appeared in the stable.
"Joel!" he panted. "We need you!"
"What's wrong?" he asked nervously.
"The patrol spotted a group of infected. They're on our route to the next settlement."
"Y/N went there!" Ellie squeaked.
Joel looked at her quickly, his muscles tensing nervously and something tightening his heart.
"I don't know anything about her." Tommy replied, clearly worried. "She went with one of our men, but the patrol didn't report anything. Maybe they're still in town?"
"Or maybe they've already met up with them." Ellie muttered.
"Get off." Joel ordered "Tommy, this one is yours." He pointed to his brother's horse and reached for the gun standing by the wall "Wait for us!"
"I want to help!"
"You stay!" Joel growled at the girl and climbed onto the horse.
"Joel?" the girl stepped back so Tommy could get out of the stables "Bring her back, please."
He knew he would do anything to do it.
His footsteps behind you were heavy, but equally fast. When you reached the third floor and opened the door to your apartment, Joel was already a few steps behind you.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" he hissed, slamming the door behind him.
"I wasn't thinking at that moment." you replied, throwing your bag on the table and spilling a few personal items out of your pants pocket.
"I noticed that!" Joel growled, "That was fucking unwise and stupid."
"But it worked, didn't it?" you smiled, looking at him.
Joel was furious. You could see it in his entire posture. He rested his hands on his hips, his chest rising with each deep breath. The wrinkle between his eyebrows and that vein pulsing on his sweaty neck, once again, had pushed him to his limits.
You could have easily been arrested by one of the guards, it was all a matter of a few bad moves, a few poorly chosen words. You had a lot of contraband on you, and you...
"I acted on instinct." You said in your defense. "You should trust me more, Joel."
"I trust you, but you know it's not about that!" He pointed a finger at you. "You can't take that much risk!"
"I can handle it! You don't have to protect me all the time!"
The man took a few steps towards you, but you didn't back up an inch.
"I have to if you're going to act so irresponsibly!"
"Irresponsible?!" You sneered at his tone.
"Childish."
"You're such a jerk sometimes, Joel! You can't admit that I succeeded and..."
You didn't have a chance to finish, his strong hands grabbed your face and your lips collided in a hard kiss. There was nothing gentle about it. Joel forced your mouth open, and his tongue slipped between your lips, ripping a dull moan from your throat.
You threw your arms around his shoulders, your fingers tangling in his curly hair as you pulled him closer, pressing your whole body against his. You shifted, although it was quite difficult, and on the way you managed to tip over the chair.
"Fuck!" Joel pulled away from you when he painfully kicked the table, "Come here!"
He grabbed your buttocks and lifted you up so that you wrapped your legs around his waist. It was more comfortable that way and soon he threw you on the bed, and then you felt his weight on you.
His hands greedily ripped off your shirt and undershirt. You felt his teeth as he lightly bit your breasts through your soft bra. You could feel that he was aroused as hell. His hard cock rubbed against your crotch through his jeans, driving you crazy.
Your fingers hastily unbuttoned his shirt as Joel fought with the belt of your pants. Your lips were constantly fighting with each other, kissing, stealing each other's breath, or nibbling. Eventually, you both succeeded. Joel stood up and almost forcibly ripped your jeans off.
His shirt landed on the ground next to the rest of your unnecessary clothing. He sat back on his heels and began to unbutton his pants. His hungry gaze swept over your body.
"A penny for your thoughts." You whispered, but he just shook his head.
He never told you what was on his mind in moments like this, and not only in them. You often caught him staring at you as if he wanted to remember a given moment forever. To engrave it in his memory.
His swollen cock finally escaped his jeans, and a pleasant shiver ran through your body. Joel reached out his hand and you lifted yourself up, then sat on his hips, hugging his hot body. The tip of his cock slid a few times over your juice-covered folds and he slid inside you.
You both fell silent for a moment. Joel saw you close your eyes, taking in as much air as you could. He loved the sight, and he had no intention of ever telling you that either.
His hands held your hips as you took him inside to the very end. His cock filled you completely and stretched you so wonderfully.
"Do you want to go for a ride?"
His low voice echoed right next to your ear, his lips brushing your temple. He didn't have to ask a second time.
Your hips rose and fell, then again and again. Joel let out the most arousing moans you've ever heard. His hands just held your body, squeezing it occasionally. You felt your orgasm building inside you, but at that moment you felt something else. A hard slap on your butt interrupted your heated sighs.
Confused, you looked at Joel, a sly smile appeared on his face.
"Who's acting childish here?" you mumbled.
Another slap and you bit your lip. Your hand slid down his neck and then you squeezed his cheeks, gripping his face tighter.
"I don't know why I'm still with you, Miller." you whispered, shaking your head in disbelief. "So irresponsible."
"I think I know why."
His hands pressed your hips harder and his cock hit the spot that drove you crazy. Again and again, it was Joel who was now directing your every movement, setting the pace. You felt the muscles in your thighs burning, but you didn't want to slow down.
You were so close now, and Joel followed you, hiding his face in the hollow between your shoulder and neck. When your walls tightened around him, the most beautiful sound he had ever heard escaped your throat.
"Joel!"
He quickly laid you back on the bed, his hips slamming into you much faster. You knew he was close. At the last moment, he pulled out of you, stroking his cock a few times. He spilled onto your lower abdomen with a loud groan and threw his head back. One of the most beautiful moments you've ever seen him in.
"You're going to kill me." he mumbled, falling down next to you. "You'll be the death of me."
"Don't be so dramatic." you laughed, reaching for the towel on the chair and wiping off what he left on you. "You just have to trust me. Because I trust you, Joel."
He smiled slightly and pulled you in to kiss your head. He wanted this moment to last forever.
It was chaos.
A car and a few riders were returning from a neighboring village. The trunk of the car was filled with goods that you managed to exchange, and you were in a really good mood. You were moving slowly. Troy, your companion, was telling you some old jokes, and nothing foreshadowed what was to come.
First, one of the horses got spooked. You noticed it in the side mirror, and right after that you spotted them. A group of a dozen or so infected people came out from between the trees.
The spooked horse threw its rider off.
"Stop!" you shouted to Troy, grabbing his arm. "We have to help him!"
"Y/N!" the man pointed to a point in front of you.
More infected people appeared, this time right in front of you. Troy hit the brake. You pulled your gun out of its holster and pulled the other one out from under the seat.
"Got any magazines, kid?"
"Yeah. A few."
Troy nodded.
"Good luck."
The sound of gunfire filled the air. The whole group sped up at once. Joel felt anger and fear growing inside him. Everything here was happening too slowly, he should have been there, with you.
"Joel!" Tommy caught up with him. "People first! Don't do anything stupid."
"You'll tell her that too?!" he replied.
They rounded a bend and that's when he saw it all.
Frightened horses running around the area, an abandoned car and two men standing on it trying to kill as many infected as possible. Joel saw blood on the side of the road, but he couldn't see you anywhere.
The riders scattered, trying to help the trapped people.
"Where are you?"
He aimed his shotgun and managed to hit several infected who fell helplessly. He felt panic growing inside him.
"God, let this blood not be hers! Let this blood not be hers!"
Another shot. Screaming. Horses neighing. A shot.
Joel aimed again. Then he saw you. You appeared suddenly running from behind the car, your face covered in blood, but you were still alive. He saw you change the magazine, but one of the infected was too close.
Before you could aim, he fell to the ground after one accurate shot.
"Joel..."
The man stopped his horse right next to you and held out his hand.
"Come on!!"
"I don't..."
"Trust me! Please!"
You didn't hesitate this time. Joel helped you climb onto the horse and hit its sides with his heels to get you out of there as quickly as possible. He could feel you were behind him, hugging him around the waist. Alive.
The sounds of gunfire slowly faded away. Joel noticed more people who had managed to get out and sighed with relief. He stopped and immediately felt you slide off the horse, he did so too.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine." you replied trying to see more of where you were.
"Hey, show me."
"Joel, please." you whined.
"Show me." he grabbed your arm carefully and you looked at him. "What's that? You're bleeding."
You rubbed your cheek with your hand and saw blood.
"I fell. I must have cut myself."
"Only this?"
You nodded and a heavy stone fell from his heart. Joel didn't think about what he was doing. His arms pulled you in and you disappeared into his embrace.
It felt so natural. All the pressure you had felt for so long melted away from you, you unconsciously snuggled closer to him. His heart was beating like crazy, you knew yours was too.
You heard the sound of hooves and quickly moved away from Joel. Tommy and the group of riders stopped right next to you.
"Everything okay?" the man asked.
"Yeah. Thanks." You nodded. "We didn't expect them."
"We thought you wouldn't run into them after all. We lost one." He shook his head and looked back. "But the car has to stay there. We'll wait a few days. Maybe this group was the only one."
"Or maybe it's something more..." Joel muttered.
"Maybe." Tommy trailed off, but then nodded to the men. "We're going back, there's nothing for us here."
The drive to Jackson was silent. You were sure that each of you wondered how all of this had come to this and what it could mean. It was already evening when you reached the city.
Joel stopped, and it was only when you got down that you felt how exhausted you were. Your muscles ached and your stomach clenched unpleasantly.
"You should see a doctor."
His voice brought you back to earth. You looked at him blankly.
"Your cheek." He pointed at you with his finger. "Doc should see this."
"I... I'm fine." You replied, but seeing his pleading look, you sighed. "Okay, okay. Jesus, you're so stubborn sometimes."
You turned around and didn't have time to see the small smile that appeared on his face. It wasn't until the door closed behind you that Joel could breathe a sigh of relief.
He felt his hands shaking and he nervously put them in his pockets. He hated this feeling, this helplessness and loss of control.
All he ever wanted was for his loved ones to be safe. He hadn't managed to do that with Sarah, but Ellie, you or Tommy... Joel didn't want to think about the lengths he could go to keep you safe. And now that life had put you in his path for the second time, he didn't want to screw it up even more.
"Still here?"
Your voice was resonant and Joel closed his eyes for a moment, but then turned to you.
"Yeah, I thought I'd wait for you. If you need anything." he replied.
There was a small bandage on your face.
"Don't look at me like that." you mumbled, smiling "It's your fault. I barely stopped Doc from stitching me up."
"Oh, really?" Joel raised his eyebrows "Have you seen yourself? Do you know what you look like?"
"Don't say that!" you raised a hand to stop him "Don't even try!"
"Scarface."
"Who's being childish here? This isn't even funny." you snorted.
It was good to hear your laughter. He felt a pleasant warmth filling him and that's probably why he decided to try something more.
"Maybe..." Joel cleared his throat "Maybe you'd like to have a drink with me or something?"
His words hung between you for a moment. The ball was in your court.
"Sounds good." you replied after a moment.
He smiled, and you felt how much you missed this in your life. You missed him.
[PART 4]
☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
#joel miller#pedro pascal#the last of us#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x reader
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Bonding: Damian Wayne x sister!reader
Request: from the prompt list : 4: "Didn't know you liked being pinned to the ground this much
Warning: nothing, it;s just fun and fluff, most likely set in the WFA universe.
***
„What happened to you two?” Dick could barely hold back the terror in his voice upon watching his younger siblings. Jason however was not so considerate and straight forward started laughing at Y/N and Damian, the former with the nose swollen and red like a Rudolf and the latter with childish patches all over his forearms.
“Have you two escaped the circus? Sure as hell with such look you would fit there!” he let out a laugh so loud it captured the attention of no one else than Bruce, who became alerted in an instant. It wasn’t usual for Jason to be this happy and chuckling and it was …. suspicious.
Similar to Dick’s, his face dropped upon seeing his kids in such damaged state and just sighed deeply.
“What did you do?” he rubbed his forehead, looking up to the sky probably wondering what mistake did he make (well, the question should have been – what mistake didn’t he make?). Never before had he looked so fatherly, like when Y/N and Damian started their mischief.
Y/N was the middle child, younger than Dick and Jason, but older than Tim and Damian, but Bruce could swear that sometimes she acted like a literal five year old. Especially when any of her brothers started messing up with her things. Especially when Damian did. No one could ever tell what atrocities she could resort to when he grabbed something that wasn’t his.
“It was all his fault!” Y/N cried out, her voice muffled by the swollen nose and she sounded more like a wounded animal rather than a human being.
“I am beyond your level, Y/N and cannot be blamed for…..”
“SIT!” Bruce growled in desperation, but neither of his kids listened. If anything they started bantering even more.
“Not many parental successes on your account, right Bruce?” Jason mocked, but the oldest Wayne didn’t bother answering. Instead he grabbed Damian by the collar and yanked him back and in the air so his feet started dangling above the ground. Luckily Y/N was too tall to do that to her as well.
“This is derogatory” Damian crossed his arms and pouted, the funniest look of her brother making Y/N laugh loudly “put me down, father so I can kick her ass again and….”
“Again?” Bruce eyes focused on his youngest son “what do you mean, again?”
“Nothing!” Y/N chimed in, desperate to keep some kind of secret
“Oh, are you ashamed to admit you got beaten by me in the combat, dear sister?”
“Shut up you little rascal!” Y/N threw herself at him, but this time it was Dick who grabbed her and hold her back
“What did he do?” Grayson asked, knowing well enough how much of a menace Damian could be
“NOTHING!” the boy struggled against his father’s grip
“Who’s afraid to admit what now?!” Y/N smirked at him.
“Ok, that’s it” clearly it was Jason who lost patience first “talk or I’ll draw blood.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” His sister threw him a daring gaze
“Wanna try me, sis? You already got a swollen nose and I can bet that this guy you like…..”
“SHUT UP JASON!”
“wait, there’s a guy?” Bruce was confused “who is he? Why didn’t I met him? How much does he know about us?”
“Not the time, Bruce!”
“LET ME GO DICK!!”
“Sorry, sunshine can’t really do that. Unless you tell us what happened.”
“fine!” she hissed “fine! I’ll tell you!”
An hour ago
“DAMIAN WAYNE!” her voice echoed through the whole Wayne Manor and made the glassed windows shake. Honestly, how could no one in the family of vigilante hear that was beyond her. “you little piece of shit, where the hell are you!?”
“Have you called me sister?” Damian emerged from his room, looking nothing but innocent with the play-pretend smile. But Y/N knew better. She was fairly aware that he was skillful in using that Wayne gene trying to charm people. Too bad his eyes were glistening with mischief.
“You can’t play me, you demon.”
“Did something happened?” he titled his head in curiosity, observing his sister getting more and more angry. Oh, how entertaining it was to see her face get red, her fist clench. Fascinating how girl’s hormones worked.
But clearly, he underestimated Y/N. Yes, she was an emotional young woman surrounded by no less than four brothers, but she was also an adopted Wayne. And the realization of that fact made her calm down. Damian wanted her to get mad. Which meant he had some sort of plan.
“My little, sweet, wonderful, lovely brother.” She quickly changed the method of acting
“Huh?” Damian frowned, still not used to people acting nice towards him. This was…. unexpected. Y/N was clearly cunning and he had to be prepared.
“Tell me, did you happen to see my phone somewhere around?”
“No.” the answer was clearly too fast to be convincing.
“Really?” she smiled and looked over his shoulder inside his room. The perks of being taller and seeing more. “Then what is lying there on your desk?”
“That’s mine.”
“Damian…..” her voice became serious, her posture tensing “give it back to me. Now.”
“No.” he crossed arms, mimicking her position. Oh, they were both preparing for a fight, neither even beginning to consider the option of relenting. “does father know about your little crush?”
“YOU WERE READING MY TEXTS?!!?”
“Do you even realize in how much danger you put us because of your silly little….”
“AH!!” he did not get to finish the sentence when she went at him taking him by surprise. However, not enough of a surprise that he didn’t manage to step back. Instead of pining him to the ground she tripped and dashed into his room, immediately reaching towards the bed to grab her mobile, but Damian grabbed her arm and yanked her back.
“You little rascal!” she yelled, when they started a real Batman-style fight. “It’s mine!”
“it’s a violation of the rules!” he spat back “we’re not supposed to be in a relationship with civilians!”
“what would you know about relationships?!” Y/N blocked his punch, turning around and tripping him up. “you were raised by freaking assassins!”
“How bad we don’t get to choose family, right?” he hissed, falling on his back on the ground but immediately getting up and attacking her again.
Y/N was good, skilled and intuitive, but Damian was smaller and maybe a bit faster and that’s why she did not see it coming when he glanced off the mattress and landed on her back, trying to tackle her to the ground
“GET OFF ME!” she yelled trying to untangle his arms from her neck
“Not a chance!”
They were struggling so hard that at one point this fight moved towards the corridor and with just one wrong step they started falling down the stairs, still doing their best to damage one another. Damian was pulling at Y/N hair, while she covered his eyes in an attempt to blind him. It took a few minutes of weltering, grunting and dapping before they ended up at the base of the stairs.
“Auch…..” they both moaned in unison, their bones and bones already bruised and damaged. It really did hurt.
“HAHA! I won!” Damian yelled as he realized that the position in which they landed allowed him to sit on top of her sister, his weight holding her down.
“Get off me you idiot…..” she whined trying to push him away, but not succeeding at all.
“Didn't know you liked being pinned to the ground this much, Y/N” Damian laughed at her poor, week attempt to get rid of him.
“AH!” she cried out again and started waving her hands at him, Damian instantly started the same and now they were laying on the floor, with him still on top of her, acting like toddlers and emitting battle cries.
“MASTER DAMIAN! MISS Y/N!”
Shit.
Alfred.
The butler just sighed deeply, too used to many very strange views and behaviors around the manor. Too many to care and ask questions.
“Please get up from the floor. Miss Y/N, your nose is bleeding and as for you, Master Damian you got bloody scratches all over your arms.”
“Sorry Alfred.” They followed every word Alfred said to them and stood beside him with their heads hanging low.
“Let’s patch you two up.” Alfred motioned them towards the living room, gathering medical supplied on the way.
Now.
“And he gave you a animal shaped patch!” Jason laughed so hard he had to grab his belly, almost rolling of the couch
“Didn’t you hear a word, Jace? He took her phone! She had every right to be angry and act irrational…” Dick took his sister’s site
“Hm.” Bruce grunted
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but good job on being stealthy” Jason chucked towards Damian “normally it would be Tim to try and do such thing.”
“Are you taking his side now?” Y/N’s eyes went wide “I can’t believe….. ah!” sudden outburst made her nose bleed even more and she held the nearby cloth tighter to the bruised part of her face. “mhmmmhmhm” she mumbled grumpily
“Hm” Bruce grunted again
“Aren’t you gonna say something?” Dick turned towards his father in a bit of shock. Normally Bruce would be the one to punish them both for disobeying the rules of the Manor but now he was just sitting on the couch, his mind wondering elsewhere.
“no.”
“What?!” four pair of surprised eyes landed on him in pure disbelief of how he acted.
“Wouldn’t make any difference. Another day another fight. Just…. apologize to each other. I’m going to the batcave. Dick, Jason come with me.”
“The hell I’m going to ….” Jason started but the look in Bruce eyes made him relent. And that was how Y/N and Damian ended up alone in the living room, sitting next to each other, eyes on the floor.
“Does it hurt much?” he asked
“Not much more than yesterday. I’ll be fine. “ she shrugged like nothing happened “Do you think they know?”
“About what? Our secret plan to make them all crazy and take over the manor?”
“Pretty much, yes.”
“Not sure. Might need some more observation on the matter.”
“So….. we do it again tomorrow?” she smirked
“Oh, absolutely” he smiled back at her, eyes sparkling. It was always fun to fight with her.
“Then can I have my phone back?”
“Sure, I’ve seen all there was to see. “
“I hate you, Damian.” Y/N grinned looking at him
“I hate you too, sis.” He replied with a smirk
And just like that, they bumped their fists. All was good between them.
****
Meanwhile, Tim was hidden in the batcave, glued to the computer, not realizing anything of the events happening upstairs. He only raised his head once he heard Bruce, Dick and Jason entering.
“Did they do it again?” he asked seeing Bruce’s harrowed face, being enough of an answer “Ha! Life never gets boring with those two troublemakers around!”
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Hi!
I love Doctor, Doctor, please listen! The way you wrote about the differences between the two that were apparent at first and then how they were actually similar! 🫠
Would you be interested in doing a follow up for the same reader who still refuses to carry a gun, but then she and Spencer are in danger and an unsub is about to kill Spencer, so she breaks her rule and uses Spencer’s gun to shoot the unsub? She doesn’t have to shoot to kill, but just to protect Spencer.
Like maybe she got injured first and didn’t defend herself but the moment it’s about to happen to “her Doctor”, she knows what she has to do.
(If youre not interested, totally get it!!!) thank you for reading!
ANON YOU'RE A GENIUS OH MY GOD Pairing: Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!reader Cw; Guns, mention of violence towards a kid, reader gets stabbed (again), death mention, mention of reader getting a leg amputated WC: 909 This is a little spin-off of my first fic which you can read here but it can be read as a standalone as well
Things had escalated fast. The team had profiled a calm, rational unsub. She was acting more out of desperation than anything, nobody thought an attack was plausible. You had ruled out a partner early into the investigation, the kills were too mundane for that of two people. Even now, with said partner having killed the unsub, you still wondered how the companion could have possibly hid herself so well. The partner was armed, clearly the dominant of the two, it became an obvious case of master/servant.
It was just you and Spencer here, Hotch was following close behind but his ETA was around 6 minutes. You didn’t have 6 minutes. She had gotten you good, coming out angry and ready to take out as many as possible. Your leg paid the price as she dove at you. You aimed for the floor, just needing to get out of her way, but you’re about 60% sure she sliced right through your Achilles. It would take all the energy you had to get back up, leaving you stationary and practically useless on the floor.
The woman was clearly struggling with paranoia. She ditched the knife she struck you with in favor of waving her pistol around. She was incredibly animated as she spoke, throwing her hands in tune with her words as she argued with the air around her. Soon, as though a decision had been made, she set her sights on Spencer. Up until this point, he’d been helping you stop the blood pouring from your leg. You saw her make up her mind, and knew you had to act quick. She was coming for him.
“Spencer, give me your gun.” You said it quickly and near silently, thanking the heavens he was so close to you. You discreetly laid your hand on the ground, and he placed it on your open palm. His back was towards her, it was up to you to protect him now.
“You people think the whole world is up for you to dictate, you know that? You can never just let people be.” She was panting, hauling Spencer up from the floor and walking him against the wall at gunpoint. “We were fine! Nobody was ever even meant to get hurt, but you all can never just let people make mistakes.”
You were hiding the gun with your arm, if she saw it she could snap. “We understand mistakes, ma’am. But sometimes people get hurt. Don’t you think it’s fair the people you wronged get some justice?” You tried, but in your professional opinion this woman was already too far gone.
“No! Don’t say it like that! We didn’t mean to hurt that kid, ok? We just got carried away.” She was rising, there was no talking her down. “You could have let us go, we would have left the country.” It was horrific, she was crying - remorseful. “But now - now I have to kill you and I don’t even want to.”
“Put down the gun, ma’am. Please.” One last bargain. “It doesn’t have to end this way.”
She only cocked the gun as a response, raising her hand to aim the pistol at Spencer’s temple.
“I’ll make it quick, I promise.”
You didn’t have a choice at this point. This was the first time in your entire career you’d been forced to hurt an unsub. You’d never been anywhere without a team to back you up. This time it was your finger on the trigger. The angle you were aiming from - crooked, while lying on the floor - made it incredibly difficult to predict where the bullet would end up. You aimed low, crossing your fingers it would shock her away from Spencer. She can’t hurt him. It was the only thought left in your head. Please don’t hurt him.
–
You found yourself in the back of an ambulance. Again. The wound was more severe this time, Spencer glued to your side for the trip to the ER. You were going to need surgery to repair the nerve damage she caused.
“I hate hospitals.” Dread pooled in your gut at the thought of going under the knife. Spencer looked at you appalled. He couldn’t believe you were complaining about the service that was going to save you from an amputated leg. Or in other words, he was panicking.
“Are you kidding me? You’ve lost enough blood to fill half a milk carton, Y/n! The fact they think you’re going to keep your leg means you got luckier than 67.2% of patients with similar stab wounds. Have a little gratuity.” His face was flushed, the hand gestures that usually accompanied his words were otherwise forgotten about.
“Spencer, I’m gonna be ok.” You looked in his eyes from where you laid on the stretcher. Sounding out each word a little more purposefully in order to calm him down.
“You shot someone. You’ve never even had to detain someone. I know how much you prioritize peace, Y/n.” Ah, so that’s why he was worked up.
“Spence.” You laughed a bit - endearingly - at how worried he was about you breaking a vow. “She was going to hurt you. I would have killed her if I had to.” He looked so fragile in the vehicle’s stark lighting.
“Really? You mean that?” The kinder way of saying would you have done that for the others?
You smiled at his words. “Only for you, Doc.”
#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#x reader#x chubby reader#x fat reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds x reader#fanfiction#spencer reid x chubby reader#spencer reid x fat reader#spencer reid x plus size reader#plus size reader#cupid:SR
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The Big "Is RAMCOA Antisemitic?" Debunk Post
Because I have to stay relevant, here we go
Let's start with a little speech. A bit of positivity.
You know, there is something good to said about this RAMCOA antisemitism discourse. The majority don't seem to be falling for it at all, and many are becoming more educated about the panic, RAMCOA/OEA and its history (the good and the bad) than ever before
RAMCOA/OEA a very real issue that deserves awareness and advocacy, and so far, I've noticed a massive surge in members of the community researching the ISSTD and the OEA sig's work.
It has brought antisemitism into light in a way that hasn't really been talked about on a large scale in system communities, and most don't know ever existed. Many, genuinely, had no idea that the satanic panic was antisemitic in these ways, and it's putting a lot of pieces together and adding a lot of context that'll help us grow and be better people going forward.
It's been really nice seeing such a positive shift to open, educational conversations, with people genuinely wanting to know the truth and unlearn harmful associations.
SAS stands with RAMCOA and OEA survivors.
So let's get into it.
SRA and The Memory Wars, lasting results
SRA started with Michelle Remembers, a book, in 1980. It resulted in thousands of unsubstantiated claims of abuse, daycare hysteria, set CDD research and OEA abuse back decades, affected millions, and to this day conjures images of cloaked figures sacrificing children.
The ISSTD was formed in 1984, amid the panic, with the goal of quickly developing an effective treatment and documenting the disorder as thoroughly as possible. Many mistakes were made. Clinicians aren't immune to societal panics, and lessons were learned the hard way.
I think an important distinction that many have forgotten is that the ISSTD's principal controversy isn't SRA. SRA didn't start or end with the ISSTD.
While the “Satanic Panic” played out in courts and in mass media, the ISSTD entered “The Memory Wars”, and it's this that they're most controversial for. False, implanted, and fostered memories weren't solely related to SRA. It was used to discredit all types of abuse and violence and is still used to this day to silence victims.
By the 1990s, therapists were being sued, licenses were being revoked, and members were fleeing the ISSTD. The False Memory Syndrome Foundation wouldn't be created for another couple of years, but that doesn't mean its founding members weren't already wreaking havoc.
The FMSF would be created in 1992, and their bigger and better attacks on therapists were brutal and persistent. The legal battles would be especially effective at causing therapists to refuse to work with victims of abuse.
Research on ritual abuse, CDDs, and repressed memories came to a grinding halt.
The Satanic Panic eventually fell into relative silence by 1995, but false memories lived on, loud and cruel.
The FMSF would eventually begin to write college textbooks for the next generation of clinicians. It would survive until 2019.
The ISSTD is still trying to regain its membership. It's only recently that they reached 1500, the highest since 1993.
Antisemitism, blood libel, and the satanic panic
If you're confused about how everything is related, I'm going to make it very simple so you grasp the basic idea.
This is not a history lesson.
Blood Libel, or ritual murder, is the idea that Jewish people sacrificed Christian children in religious rituals. Cloaked figures performing rituals and killing children and animals. The same thing you picture when you think of Satanists and rituals.
For those who recognize the connection (racists), this fuels their sentiments and creates a language for them to speak to each other.
It is true, a basic fact, that for many people, Satanists are anyone who doesn't worship the Christian god. Including and especially Jewish people.
SRA and RAMCOA
Depending on who you ask, the connection is either that:
MYTH: the ISSTD originally called their RAMCOA sig (Special Interest Group) the SRA sig. FACT: The RAMCOA sig, one of twelve ISSTD sigs, was created in 2008. There was never any kind of satanic ritual abuse group or association within the ISSTD.
FACT: Ritual abuse, the RA in RAMCOA, still has ties to SRA and brings to mind everything from the panic. ALSO FACT: That's why the ISSTD has renamed it to the OEA sig.
Hopefully we're all on the same page now.
Who's Grey Faction?
Grey Faction is a group of the TST (The Satanic Temple) and is closely related to the FMSF. While the FMSF generally attacked all types of abuse, GF, being related to Satanism, is focused on recovered memories and the (still alive) satanic panic. They believe that all reports of false memories supports satanic panic conspiracy theories. They continue the FMSF's work.
How did we get here?
Well, TST and GF are on reddit. Syscringe is on reddit. And now syscringe is here.
This is what syscringe bot says every time RAMCOA is brought up.
That link goes to Grey Faction.
So is RAMCOA Antisemitic?
Kind of yeah. It was a really good move of the ISSTD to change the name to OEA sig. They talk about the association on their website and stated they wanted to get away from that. No one won the satanic panic. Ritual abuse is real, but its history is tainted.
The discourse around RAMCOA isn't about helping Jewish people. At least, not for the people pushing the false connection that the ISSTD started and continues to maintain the panic to this day.
It's about discrediting the ISSTD and the trauma theory. It's about silencing victims, even Jewish survivors.
It's about ignoring that the ISSTD is making moves in the right direction.
It's about continuing the idea that false memories exist and that trauma memories can't be trusted or taken at face value. It's about downplaying the depravity of abusers and the lengths they'll go to.
I want to finish this post with a letter from a very dear friend. It's not a mod on this blog, simply someone wishing to stay anonymous.
Uplift Jewish Voices
Hello, I’m Noam, an ethnic and religious Jew. I face antisemitism on the daily and deal with having DID. I am not a RAMCOA survivor, but I have a number of friends who are. Today I’m here to talk about the recent discourse going around regarding whether claiming to have RAMCOA experiences is inherently antisemitic. TLDR: no.
Let’s start with understanding why people think this. The term ritual abuse originated from the term satanic ritual abuse and is often associated with the satanic panic. The satanic panic in the 80s and 90s was extreme and yes, did involve a lot of antisemitic conspiracy theories. People would suggest certain symbols or music or groups of people (often vague, or calling it a nationwide conspiracy) were “brainwashing” these “good Christian children” into satanic practices or straying from rigid Christianity. Jews are often stereotyped as Satanic, controlling things, and murdering and cannibalizing children/babies.
Ritual abuse nowadays is often still associated with Satanic cults, but it has a much broader and less accusatory definition in medical/therapeutic spaces. Per Schröder et al. (2018), “ritual abuse occurs when a religious, political, or spiritual authority uses its position of power and the sovereignty to interpret the respective belief system to manipulate and dominate its followers.” Some examples include repeated forced creation of CSEM, religious and other types of cults (yes, including satanic, but also Christian and other religions), and being forced to abuse others (Schröder et al., 2018). Trafficking is also a type of organized abuse. We know these types of abuses happen. But given the history of RA as a term and the harm claims of SRA caused, how does one determine whether something is a conspiracy theory or actual trauma someone experienced?
This page by the European Commission does a good job of talking about identifying conspiracy theories and the harm they do. I won’t recount the whole thing, but here are some basic things they state conspiracy theories have in common: a secret plot, a group of conspirators, unfounded/unreliable evidence, suggesting everything is connected, dividing the world into good people and bad people, and scapegoating certain groups (“Identifying Conspiracy Theories,” 2020).
What makes (many) stories of RAMCOA different from antisemitic conspiracy theories? I’m glad you asked!
• The secret plot in conspiracy theories often involves a large group of people in on some secret changing something about the world or identifying a secret thing that must have happened to lead to unfortunate current events. RAMCOA tends to stem from people or organizations working on a much smaller scale, and the things they are doing mostly affect the person/people experiencing this abuse. Abusers may try to instill in victims a sense that they control a lot about the world and the events that happen within it, but they don’t.
• A big question I like to ask people who spout conspiracy theories is “who is they (the group of conspirators)?” If they is some generic big bad, the government, “elites” (see the AJC’s Translate Hate Glossary section titled “cosmopolitan elite”), or vague and unknown, it’s usually a dogwhistle for Jews. The person themselves may not realize this, but perhaps they never looked further into the evidence behind these accusations and who those being accused are. RAMCOA perpetrators are not vague to their victims. They often have familial ties or other close relationships with them that allow the abusers to gain their victims’ trust (Schröder et al. 2018). The things they do to abuse people and the methods they use are not vague or mysterious actions to achieve an end. There are specific actions and tactics that cults and authority figures use for RAMCOA.
• Whether evidence is unfounded is a harder thing to distinguish, since many survivors of RAMCOA cope using dissociation or have an amount of dissociative amnesia around traumatic events (Shröder 2018). The Europe Commission suggests three main things to check for in regards to evidence about a claim. Who is the author and why are they writing this? Is the source reliable/reputable? Is the tone and style “balanced and fair or sensationalist and one-dimensional?” (“Identifying Conspiracy Theories,” 2020). I also like to think about, especially with regards to abuse survivors, if this is a conspiracy theory, why are they telling me the things they’re telling me? Most RAMCOA survivors I’ve met avoid talking about their trauma and are more focused on figuring out if what they experienced is real and how to heal from it. They are not trying to convince me of something; they are just sharing their story and looking for support.
• RAMCOA victims I’ve talked to, particularly those with DID, also have a more complex view of their abusers or are trying to come to terms with all the bad things someone they admired, trusted, and/or loved did. Conspiracy theorists tend to separate people into conspirators or innocents. There is no middle ground. Healing for a lot of abuse victims involves realizing that good people can do bad things and bad people can do good things; the world is not black and white.
• Scapegoating often involves generalizing and demonizing certain people or groups of people. I find a lack of seeing these “others” as human or wanting anything other than a single, unified goal. It also tends to involve assumptions much more than any personal experience. Anyone with even the slightest connection to a certain ideology is evil. RAMCOA often involves many victims, many of whom understand that other people involved with the organization that hurt them are also victims or have been scared or brainwashed into further perpetuating abuse.
• Also, while satanic panic was largely about going against Christianity, many religious cults are associated with particular sects or communities within Christianity, and they use certain ideologies within the group to deter people from leaving or reporting abuse. Perpetrators claim some sort of punishment or betrayal will be involved in these actions.
Anyways, I want to put emphasis on healing in RAMCOA survivors, where many of the points and purposes of conspiracy theories are antithetical to such a process. People should be allowed to find support, community, and reliable resources about what they have gone through (if it is physically/mentally safe for them to do so). Please do not insist that these traumas aren’t real on the basis of antisemitism from the satanic panic. The survivors I’ve met who talk about parts of their trauma are working hard to come to terms with it themselves and how to cope, and while they may be angry and upset towards their abusers, they do not try to insist to me how evil a group is and that there is a need to take direct action against them. They are just trying to survive.
Now, ritual abuse as a term and the history of its use is something I think needs more discussion. I would love to see more research about how the term evolved within medical/therapeutic spaces and how much of a connection the current definition and use has to antisemitism. But regardless of what we end up calling these types of abuses, there are real examples of them and people who have empirical evidence that they have been through such experiences.
Furthermore, I have a problem with a lot of the claims of antisemitism in relation to RAMCOA coming from goyim (AKA non-Jews). You are not the authority on antisemitism. You do not get to claim to defend us while not speaking to us about the topic. There is so much antisemitism going around, but I find so few people willing to listen to Jews when we talk about the struggles we face. (The SAS mods are an example of exceptions to this. I appreciate the amount I’ve been able to talk to them and how open and supportive they are. I love y’all.) Encouraging hate and disbelief is not helpful to us. What’s helpful is doing your research and learning about how to recognize and combat antisemitism. Take your energy where it’s needed, thank you.
European Commission. (2020, August 12). Identifying conspiracy theories. European Commission. <https://commission.europa.eu/strategy-and-policy/coronavirus-response/fighting-disinformation/identifying-conspiracy-theories_en>
Gerke, J., Fegert, J., Rassenhofer, M., & Fegert, J. M. (2024). Organized sexualized and ritual violence: Results from two representative German samples. Child Abuse & Neglect, 152, 106792. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.chiabu.2024.106792
#tw#ramcoa#cdd history#debunk#syscringe and Grey faction sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G#not syscourse#pro syscourse conversation#sas stands with ramcoa and OEA survivors#I'm fucking exhausted goddamn
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