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reiding-writing · 1 day

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HI LOVE UR WORK ESPECIALLY COLD READER IVE BEEN BINGING THEM AND I NEED MOREE

Soo speaking of i think prompt 15 could be a really cute cold reader prompt for something and I WOULD LOVE IT

HOMETOWN [CLIMACTERIC]

/ˌhəʊmˈtaʊn/

15. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

WARNINGS: fem!reader, mentions of spencer’s bullying, made up childhood bully (sorry spence <3), swearing as per, typical cold!reader antics

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff?? || 3.0k || event masterlist!!

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!

a/n: great minds think alike huh? the fact that both these requests specified for it to be cold!reader as well is insane to me 😭😭

There’s that saying that the worst people in school always end up going into jobs that provide for others; The idea that petty school bullies take up careers in hospitality or community service despite all of their obvious social flaws.

Honestly, Spencer always found the idea ridiculous. They had just as much of a chance as going into a hospitality job as they did a 9-5 office job.

Their attitude didn’t have any causational impact on their future career whatsoever, people just focused on the people that did end up in those fields and then generalised it to the larger population with no reasonable backing.

But he’d be lying if that wasn’t the first thing that ran through his head when he walked into station 14 of the LVMPD and ran right into somebody from his middle school.

Somebody who fit that god awful false idea to a T.

“We’ll get you set up asap, Robinson, DeGaris, show the agents to 22B will you?”

Spencer knew the second he turned around. Some people’s faces never really mature through puberty. The bone structure doesn’t change and they just end up looking like a taller version of their child self.

“Would you look at that? Looks like we’ve made it to the big leagues,” Officer DeGaris nudges his partner with a raise of his eyebrows, and Robinson shakes his head with a short laugh in response.

“More like we’re doing such a bad job they had to call in the big leagues,” Robinson pushes DeGaris’ head away with the palm of his hand before clasping his fists together at his waist. “Welcome to Las Vegas, land of casinos, neon signs, and… serial killers apparently— Uh I’m Caleb, this is Will, chances are you’ll see a lot of us over the next however long you’re here,”

“Pleasure,” Hotch holds out his hand to shake the two officers’, who promptly move to shake hands with the rest of the team afterwards.

By the time the two reach you and Spencer stood at the back of the group he feels like he might throw up his heart from how fast it was beating, and he swerves the shakes with all the awkwardness of his usual evasions as he excuses himself to walk ahead of the team.

It was stupid really. It had been almost two decades since what had happened, yet even just being in his proximity was making Spencer sweat like he was a final girl in a horror movie.

“Excuse us,” Your words hold no social grace as you slide past the two officers to follow after Spencer. He wasn’t the best with meeting new people, but he never left the conversation before it could even start. “Reid-”

Although mildly confused, the two officers don’t seem all that disheartened as the two of you disappear into the meeting room, their attention turning back to the rest of your team.

“Well,” Caleb claps his hands together with a politely awkward smile. “We’ll let you guys get settled in, if you need anything at all come and find one of us and we’ll do our best to get it for you,” He gestures between himself and Will stood next to him, gazing half-blankly into the open shutters of the window into the room with furrowed eyebrows at yourself and Spencer like he’s trying to put puzzle pieces together in his mind.

“Thank you officer, we will,” Hotch gives the two a small nod before gesturing the team into the room and leaving the two policemen outside.

—

At least the station had a coffee machine. Spencer’s one saving grace in the fact that he was not only working on a case in his own home city but also in the same town he grew up in, a town with some very familiar faces.

The scent of the caffeinated beverage was enough to bring him back to his right mind a little as it hit the ceramic mug with a burst of steam, and Spencer watched the liquid flow aimlessly as he waited for his drink to be made.

Coffee solved all his problems.

“Hey,”

Most of the time.

With a slow breath and his eyes shut to compose himself, Spencer turned around slowly to greet the voice, hit lips pressed into a straight line as his eyes opened once more, greeted with an all too familiar sight.

“I thought I recognised you Spencer, or sorry, it’s Agent Reid now right?” Will raised an eyebrow slightly, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

There was no real malice behind his tone, no sarcasm or taunting, no twitch in his facial expression that could make Spencer think he was trying to get under his skin. But he did. And it made Spencer feel like a 9 year old all over again.

“It’s uh, Doctor Reid actually,”

Will gives a short laugh and a nod, like Spencer’s title was something he’d expected. “Right, right, of course, so you’re not an FBI Agent then?”

“I am,” Spencer answers shortly, hands wringing together behind his back as he leans against the kitchenette counter. “But the title of Doctor outranks the title of Agent,”

He could see that familiar glint in Will’s eye as he explained the reasoning behind his official title, like he was looking at some puny know-it-all rather than a person of his own age.

“Very impressive,” Will gives him a slow, almost animated nod, and Spencer has never been more grateful for the shrill beeping of an automated coffee machine as he tears his eyes from Will to pick up his mug, cradling it between his to hands.

“Well, it was uh, good— to see you again Billy I’m glad you got where you wanted to go in life—“

“I don’t go by that name anymore,” Will crossed his arms over his chest with a shake of his head, his expression cordial despite the way his fists clenched like the mae had caused physical discomfort to him. “I go by Will now.”

“Right, Will, I should get back to my team now,”

“I’m sure they can wait a few minutes, we should catch up, for old time’s sake,”

—

“Where is Reid?” You exhale exasperatedly, biting your tongue to keep yourself in check as you turn towards Morgan and Emily with a show of your hands.

“Maybe the coffee machine was broken,” Emily shrugs nonchalantly as she sorts through the scene photos, occasionally passing one over the table towards you to hang up on the board.

“As if I needed any more reasons to hate those pieces of shit,” You groan exaggeratedly, dragging your hand down your face.

“Calm down lover, being away from the pretty boy for an extra few minutes won’t kill you,” Morgan rolls his eyes at your attitude with a short laugh, tapping his fingers against the table.

“Oh shut your mouth,” You scoff as you walk down the length of the table, pushing the heel of your hand against Morgan’s temple as you pass him as an extra form of chastisation which he promptly laughs at you for as you leave the room in search of Spencer.

“Oh to be young and in love,” Morgan laughs to himself as he clasps his hands together, leaning his head backwards over the chair to look at Emily with a knowing look.

“$50 on less than a year,” Emily doesn’t even look up at her proposition, and Morgan laughs with a shake of his head.

“Oh no no, they’re playing the long game, it’ll be at least another two,”

“Deal,” Emily holds her right hand out in Morgan’s direction, and he grasps it in his own with a firm shake.

“Deal.”

—

Spencer is still standing by the coffee machine, a steaming mug in his hands. It does not take eight minutes to make a single cup of coffee.

Well it wouldn’t if he wasn’t stood talking to one of the local police officers.

More like the officer was talking at him.

And if the way he was fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve was any indication, he was not enjoying the conversation.

If it weren’t for the harsh fluorescent lighting, the furrow of his eyebrows would be imperceptible from where you were standing, but the way he rolls his ankles and shifts his weight onto the balls of his feet would be noticeable from a mile away even in pitch black darkness.

Time to go and save Spencer Reid from his own social ineptitude. Again.

He doesn’t acknowledge you as you approach despite you clearly being in his eye line, his sole focus on the man in front of him even as you near close enough to be able to hear their conversation.

“…were quite the character weren’t you Pick?”

Spencer purses his lips together uncomfortably at the nickname, and you take the break in the conversation as an invitation to get between the two.

You clear your throat with crossed arms, eyes flickering between the two of them as they turn their attention away from each other and towards you instead.

“You’re needed back in the meeting room,”

Spencer nods at you a little too eagerly, clearly ready to rid himself of his new companion. “Right, good bye Bil- Will, sorry,” He doesn’t make eye contact with the officer as he all but power walks past you to head towards the meeting room, and your eyebrows furrow ever so slightly as your glance wanders from Spencer to the almost smug expression on the officer’s face.

“Is something funny?” Your question is enough to bring Will’s eyes away from watching Spencer scurry off with his tail between his legs and towards you with horribly feigned innocence.

The look in your eyes is less than savoury, and it’s enough that small glimpse of condescension simmers in his irises to break through his pleasant facade.

You don’t stick around to have to speak to him any further, and with a final look over you leave him by the coffee machine to rejoin the team in the meeting room.

—

“You can’t avoid him forever you know,”

Your voice stirs Spencer out of his focus, and he straightens himself up in his chair as he looks at you, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

You hadn’t really said anything since you re-entered the meeting room, not even bothering to defend yourself against Morgan’s musings about how much you were complaining about Spencer not being present to help you with the profiles, yet less than a minute after Morgan and Emily left, your conversational battery had suddenly returned.

“I— What do you mean?”

“Officer DeGaris,”

Spencer looks at you like you’ve read his diary without his permission.

He forgets just how observant you are sometimes, how easy it seems to be for you to distinguish between Spencer’s general dislike for small talk and meeting new people and when his discomfort is specifically aimed.

You look through the meeting room’s glass window with roaming eyes, Spencer presumes it’s to find the Officer in question. “He acts like a glorified man-child so I can’t blame you for resenting him,”

“Did he say something to you?” He sounds almost afraid at the idea that Will might’ve said something distasteful to you, his face scrunching up in concern, but you dispel the thought with a quick shake of your head.

“No, he didn’t say anything to me,” Spencer can physically see the moment that your eyes catch on Will across the station in the way that your micro expressions change, the way your arms cross tighter over your chest and your nostrils flare. “He was more than distasteful to you though,”

You sigh in mild frustration. “You’d think that people would mature once they reach adulthood, but there’s always a few that cling to their childhood relevancy like their life depends on it. Pathetic really,”

he doesn’t know whether he should even be entitled to being surprised that you knew Will was character from his childhood. It doesn’t stop him. “I never said I knew him when I was a child,”

“He called you Pick, and you called him Billy,” You deadpan like it’s obvious. “You’re not exactly hiding it,”

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” You can see the genuine befuddlement in Spencer’s expression as you relay the cluing details into his past, like he seemingly can’t comprehend that you were actually paying attention and storing Spencer’s divulgence into his childhood in your memories.

“Believe it or not Reid, I do actually listen,” You sound almost offended at how surprised Spencer seems, and he back tracks immediately with a surrendering wave of his hands.

“That’s not— I didn’t mean to insinuate that, I just meant—” Spencer sighs exasperatedly at his failure to string together a coherent sentence. “I only mentioned it offhandedly is all, it’s not something people usually dwell on,”

“It’s not difficult to listen when someone confides in you Reid, it’s basic human compassion,” You move away from the window with a start, stopping just shy of the door right as it opens.

“Can we help you?” The small amount of empathy in your tone vanishes immediately as you meet Will’s eyes, your head cocked in obvious impatience despite the fact that he hasn’t even spoken a word to you yet.

And although mildly deterred by your expression, he follows through nonetheless. “I need to speak to— Agent Reid, it’s something about the case.”

You’d wager it’s definitely not about the case.

“Doctor Reid is busy, if you have something important go and find SSA Hotchner,”

Spencer can’t see your expression as you stand with your back to him, but if he had to make a guess based off of the way that Will’s face falters he’d say you were probably glaring at him. That signature glare that you never hesitated to utilise when deemed a necessary reaction.

He’s half glad he can’t see your face, because it means that you can’t see his, and the way his cheeks redden against his will at not only your intervention between him having to have another conversation with one of the nightmares of his childhood, but also how casual you were in correcting his use of Spencer’s official title.

“I can’t find SSA Hotchner,” He responds like he’s got you beat, but you barely so much as acknowledge it at all.

“Email him then, your chief supervisor has the details.” You take a small step forward to motivate him to step backwards out of the doorway, and you uncross your arms only to grasp the edge of the door. “Now if you’d please excuse us, we do our best work without distractions.”

You don’t give him time to reply before you close on him, but there’s just enough time for Spencer to see the astonishment dawn on Will’s face at your dismissal before he’s shut out completely.

Your frustration is still present on your face as you turn to walk back over to the whiteboard, and Spencer presses his lips together in an awkwardly endearing fashion before muttering out a soft “thank you,” in your direction.

“I don’t tolerate bullies Reid, it’s nothing to be thankful for,” You shake your head to dismiss him, a much lighter—much friendlier— dismissal than you’d awarded Will.

”You didn’t have to do that though,” Spencer sighs softly, playing with the sleeves of his sweater. “Let me buy you a coffee at least? There’s a cafe a few minutes away from here that I used to go to when I was younger, and I think I need the break,”

You can’t really blame his sudden want for fresh air, and you’d rather not slave away on the profile without him to filter your thoughts through, so you don’t really have much option but to join him.

“It’s not one of those ridiculously expensive coffee places is it?” You raise your eyebrow at him warningly and Spencer shakes his head with a soft laugh, one your happy to hear as a sign that Will hadn’t knocked him off his game too much.

“No no, last time I was here it was $3.49 a cup, perfectly normal,” He brushes a strand of hair from his eye with a small smile. “So you’ll join me?”

You let out a small exhale and a shrug of your shoulders, and Spencer knows that you’re feigning more begrudgement than you’re feeling. “I guess I could do with a break,”

Spencer’s smile seems to get just that little bit brighter at your response.

“But I’m buying my own coffee.”

“Okay—” Spencer gives you a small nod, joined by a laugh, and you wait until he’s got his back to you before letting a small smile invade your mouth at the sight.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #mgg #climacteric 🪶

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animentality · 21 hours

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not to be a boomer, but I do worry about the current generation of kids being raised with iPads.

first off. some of them literally can't hold a pencil because their parents never gave them physical toys to grip and play with, developing their fine motor skills.

you might ask why do we even need to learn how to write physically anymore- well, frankly, because if you're stranded on an island somewhere and you need to write HELP, you might not have the strength to hold a pencil, but you can at least hold a stick.

but on a more general note.

writing by hand helps you remember things better. it forces you to focus in a way that typing something word for word does not. a person can transcribe what a professor says without even thinking about it.

someone writing notes has to consider what to write and what to omit. it also activates more parts of your brain, forcing you to flex the parts of your brain related to learning and communicating, while also engaging the part of your brain dedicated to muscle control and precision.

but in general, I think the issue isn't even oh technology is bad and kids are getting dumber.

you can have PowerPoints AND take physical notes. that could help you learn even better than the olden days where you just had to remember everything that was thrown at you. or read very limited, out of date books.

the problem is that the generation that raised/is raising this generation of children just doesn't understand the true impact that all this technology will have on their kids. or they just don't care.

because our generation had the internet yes, but it wasn't widely accessible for most of us, sharing our computers with the entire family in the kitchen. it was also the internet in its infancy, where it wasn't quite so predatory, when it was lawless and disturbing, yes, but it wasn't weaponized by corporations trying to sell you things and steal your data, it wasn't flooded with bots and ai and all sorts of things that the human brain can't even distinguish as real or fake, especially when you're just a little kid.

that generation still played with physical toys. we celebrated when it snowed and we could stay home.

we also came from a gen that still, vaguely, cared about some form of community and had third spaces for kids to hang out.

90s children, who still had some memories of both playing outside on a playground and playing Mario Kart on the Nintendo 64 with their friends, who both went out to the mall and had a club penguin account.

we grew up with laptops and smart boards. maybe some of us had them in high school or college, but we still physically went to class and developed relationships. learned uncomfortable things about ourselves and others, the way humans do.

met new people and were exposed to new ideas, away from our parents. but not from some fucking influencer trying to sell us Sephora products.

we had to study for things, instead of just being able to Google shit for some bullshit online test.

which is also something that really concerns me. so many kids today can so easily Google answers for every test, and while tests don't ultimately matter in the real world, they still provide some basis for things that do matter.

like I'm just imagining medical students googling how to perform an appendectomy on the day of, and just using a YouTube tutorial to guide them through, and shuddering.

there are some things that the Internet can't teach you.

there always will be.

but I don't think my generation is really helping their kids find the balance that we were given naturally growing up.

the boomers and gen xers had fist fights and we had bullying someone online until they committed suicide.

and now kids use AI to spread fake nudes of girls.

but the laws haven't caught up with a lot of this stuff yet, and certainly won't while we have dinosaurs running our government. and culture takes even longer to change than laws.

I also worry because I know how badly covid affected kids worldwide. how they struggle to read and do math, because remote learning just isn't good for kids.

and I can't even blame them!! I literally teleworked for 4 years and even I can admit that I'm not nearly as good at focusing at home as I am in the office.

it's hard for kids with social anxiety and disabilities, yes I know, I know, trust me, I have social anxiety, and as a hybrid worker ATM, I highly doubt I'd be able to handle 5 days a week in the office.

but it's also not particularly good for kids to stay home ALL the time, entertaining themselves in their room and never being challenged, and never meeting people other than their parents.

the iPad is more of a symbol of that problem than the direct problem.

if your entire... world view is limited to what you can see on your iPad... I mean what a terrible world view you'll have.

you're a 10 year old using TikTok and all you ever see is the same opinion over and over until you can scarcely comprehend people who have an opposing opinion.

you see fake videos that seem so real. that must be real, and so comforting, aren't they, those videos that seem so real?

you let 30 year old influencers who are trying to grift people shape your world view.

and it's not even your fault.

your parents aren't doing anything to help you.

you're young and you're being barraged with entertainment and fake educational videos and how to guides that accidentally create mustard gas in your toilet.

your parents should be teaching you to find a balance between these things. they should be telling you what's real and caution you about the things you see.

they should limit your fucking time on the iPad actually. take you to a fucking park and let you roll in the mud or some shit.

and then when you're a teenager and a young adult, then you can start deciding for yourself what you believe.

but a lot of these weird millennial/gen z parents, man. just let your 1 year old scroll through vids on TikTok while you don't even talk to them or look at them once.

maybe it's because they don't see the harm in it, but I don't get it.

adults can watch TikTok all day and know, ahhh this is bad for me. I'm not doing anything I actually want to be doing.

adults can see other adults doing dumb shit and say ah you're sponsored. someone paid you money to say and do that. silly.

but kids are just kids.

they don't have discipline and frankly, that's not their responsibility. that is yours.

you should be teaching them that they can't have everything in life at their finger tips at all times, actually.

the iPad doesn't solve all of your problems, nor will it think critically for you.

so I worry about if humanity can really keep up with its own technology.

our species is still in its infancy, believe it or not.

so maybe these are just growing pains, and future generations will be able to look back on this era and know the proper balance.

but as someone living in 2024.

I wonder just how much pain is left before we really mature and either make it or break it.

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rubyroboticalt · 2 days

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QBLR QUARTERLY WEEK 2!

Minecrafters grab your pickaxes, and catch up on the QBLR QUATERLY! What's up guys, update just dropped! It sure is something to try and decipher, huh. We've got pages of new stuff to go over, so let's catch up on all the events and mishaps that happened on the server this week!

Desnay finishes his base, and Perrito has a concert!

A new emote touches the server, it's the purple guy stand emote. Surely, nothing can go wrong with that emote and so many creatures around.

Smashing last week's record, Cheez logs a total of just under four full 24-hour days on the server. It has been up for 9 days. Does this man sleep? Eat? Stretch maybe?

All this just in time for a special server event! The dark magician who clears dropped items every 15 minutes gathers up all the creatures running around the island, and distributes them to groups of carers! This goes about as well as you'd think for a server of people in the prime age to develop baby fever over a voxel egg.

And for folks who would rather remain childfree, no need for concern! Planned Parenthood opens a clinic on the server where both reproductive health and world hunger concerns can be addressed. Any unwilling parents can pick up an Abortion In A Bottle free of charge!

Of course, there are plenty of folks who have other ventures going on, including the theatre kids' first outpost on the server, and some autistic minecraft behaviors. No, I mean some really autistic minecraft behaviors. This is impressive.

The theme of this week's builds is farms! A lovely community farm where everyone on the server is coming together to create a seed vault and garden that anyone can take a seed from if they're missing a plant.

And of course, there are plenty of new seeds and plants found and collected by the several intrepid world border expeditions! All four borders were reached this week. The border is 30k x 30k in length and width.

If you thought there was only one server event this week, you'd be wrong! Due to timezones and lag reasons, a second creature event was planned and held a day after the original! This event came with complementary drugs!

With two creature events down, the creatures start settling into their new homes and bonding with their new carers. Some creatures are kept in utmost safety, and others partake in activities that perhaps a creature should not be partaking in. As of yet, there are no family vloggers on the server, so that's a win.

While Nightmare Stalkers are nightmarish as the name suggests for the first few nights of having such vulnerable creaturess around, they quickly become nothing more than a regular nuisance. As such, traps and poisons to dispatch them swiftly are set up around the server.

But wait, there's more! That's right it's a third creature event batch! The final group of creatures are assigned carers and begin to settle in.

With all these creatures now assigned, a creature task system begins to be implemented, and carers take photos of the tasks with their creatures to earn tokens. These tokens ARE valuable.

Otherwise, all the creatures begin to make their mark on the world, with players also building many important venues and farms for the server. This includes the server's XP farm, a mob farm designed for lag easing while still providing XP.

And, of course, there are shenanigans aplenty with creatures and residents alike, including picnics, pole dance classes, abyss exploration, and the birth of G-dzilla.

And the second week of the server is aborted peacefully.

#qblrsmp #qblr quarterly #ruby tv #we also had our first discourse but it was handled peacefully and maturely because reading comprehension is a rule on the server.

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omeryotam4 · 2 days

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Supporting genocide is gross.

Right?

So why are you supporting genocide?

While war is awful, the Palestinians are not suffering a genocide. By definition:

"acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group"

We see that:

Israel holds one of the best citizen-combatant ratio, meaning it kills more terrorists and less civilians than in most wars in history.

Israel is performing its famous "roof knocking" methods, that include flyers, phone calls, warnings through other countries, and small "alarm bomb", that allows people to evacuate safely.

Israel takes responsibility and apologizes when accidents do happen, showing sympathy to its enemies. Legal actions are taken by the state itself against anyone who breaks the international law.

Israel is providing gaza with unprecedented amounts of humanitarian aid. The Ukrainians? Can only dream of these amounts. Sudan? No humanitarian aid goes there.. Syria? Nah, Assad will care for them... right?

Now let's take a look at what happened at October 7th:

Almost all the victims were civilians, unarmed.

The Hamas terrorists went in with the intent to catch as many Jews in their safe place, and to kill as many as possible. No need for warnings when you plan on cleansing the entire country of human life (yes, this was their goal. They were stopped before they reached central Israel).

Hamas took hostages, and is torturing them in underground tunnels and collaborative Palestinian houses. I guess it's an honor to torture a Jew in their community? Anyways, no apologies were given, mostly celebrations for how brutally they killed people.

Hamas is providing Israel with... more dead people. Throwing missiles (still have missiles!!) On strictly civilian areas, hospitals, schools, you name it. Every week there's a list of soldiers and citizens who died by the hands of Palestinians and Hamas.

The plan always was, and always will be, to get rid of all the Jews, so they can establish a Muslim-Arab country, enforcing Sharia laws.

This might start to sound like a genocide, and that's because this massacre is part of an on-and-off genocide the Palestinians are performing on the Jews. Every few years they perform a genocidal attack on Jews, dating back all the way to the moment they colonized the land in the 7th century. They collaborated with the Nazis to get rid of the Jews in all the transjordan area. It's not about Israel, never was. It was always about killing every last Jew on the planet.

And that's, my friend, what you call a genocide.

So yeah, supporting genocide is gross. I wonder why you support genocide so hard that you go to an ask box of a Jewish woman and write to her that ask. I really wonder what led a white western to support such ideas...

#the answer is antisemitism #antisemitism is what leads you to support it #now bring the hostages back #jumblr #omi talks

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hexagon-club · 3 days

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My biggest issue with the word "queer" isn't its history as a homophobic slur, or its etymological roots of meaning "weird". It's just that like a lot of "umbrella terms" it is used and defined in such a broad manner that it is functionally meaningless.

It's supposed to be a label applied to people who are not normal, but as far as I can tell, the people who use this word think that "normal" is being a character from a 1950s sitcom. The vast majority of people do not live like this, so the vast majority of people are not normal. Which means that not being normal is normal. Seriously, has anyone in the "queer movement" ever provided a stable definition of what they think "normal" even is?

The whole "queer" movement loves vague language. Normally I can figure out based on context what they meant to say. But I don't think I should have to do that. Effective communication should involve precise language. The only reason to keep people guessing as to what you really meant is if you don't want people to understand what it is you are trying to say. And the only reason to want that is if you don't actually have anything of substance to say, or what you are trying to say is something that you know would be rejected by people if you communicated it in such a manner that they could actually understand you.

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brucewaynehater101 · 3 days

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I don’t you’ve seen a fic where Tim ends up with Barbara after Jason’s death instead of Bruce. I remember that when Tim’s parents are kidnapped, Barbara asks Bruce for help and he tells her it’s a low priority because he’s too busy chasing the Joker. I think Ra’s gets involved at some point, but that might be a different fic…

It’s not ‘How to be a male batgirl’, but I can’t remember what it is.

I have not read that fic, but it does sound interesting. I'm curious about the difference dynamics with that. Barbara is like a family friend. She has the ability to disregard what Bruce says and make her own rules because she's not a part of the Waynes. If Babs steals Tim from Bruce (which, if he's a bad dad, good for Tim and Barbara), does Tim get immunity from Bruce too?

I love Oracle and her ability to help the female vigilantes. She provides safety, reassurance, distance from Bruce, and support. I'm too tired to delve into the gender dynamics and why her having a separate force from Bruce is so vital.

Dick, if he stays as a more independent agent in Bludhaven (who occasionally travels to help in Gotham), could also provide similar resources as Babs. It wouldn't quite be to Barbara's level, but it could be another person and location the batkids could go to.

It would be great if Babs, Dick, Alfred, and Jason all communicated with each other to provide aid and refuge to the younger Bats.

#barbara gordon #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #bamf barbara gordon #oracle dc #dc oracle #thank you for the ask!!!!

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monratarot · 12 hours

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Free readings update

Hello, everyone! Moni🧚‍♀️ here! As you can see I have finished doing the fist session of free readings. Thank you for messages, interest, support and feedback. Really appreciate that you guys are still hear with me and that you help me grow my community.

💮🌸💕• ω •🍭💖✨ 💮🌸💕• ω •🍭💖✨

For everyone that had send me a request and haven't yet received they readings I have a good news: FREE READING SEASION is OPEN again but this time there are only 15 slots available from now on.

Also from now on I will be also making readings in other language. So you can request a reading in:

*English🕊🔮🕯✨

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Every person that has requested a reading will automatically get a slot for the next session of readings. Again, the request that do not respect the rules WON'T BE ASWERED so keep that in mind. I'm putting the rules again down here:

🌙🌕♡🦢✧ RULES FOR FREE TAROT READING 🌙🌕♡🦢✧

*Follow my blog and help my community grow with a share or a like.

*Send me a request in ask box to establish what kind of tarot reading suits your situation the best and how you want to receive your answer.

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Hope that we will have a great collaboration ahead and that my blog and readings will help everyone around the world! ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Wish you only the best! Moni🧚‍♀️

#tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot witch #tarot #tarot community #tarot reading #moni tarot #tarot cards #free tarot readings #tarot free reading #please reblog #divination

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hadesoftheladies · 2 days

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too many people view (uncritically, esp when it comes to feminism) separatism as this isolating, individualistic thing where people who don't want to participate just pack their bags and move to a far off country. that isn't what it is at all.

separatism is about re-centering the individuals of a certain community so as to strengthen the community. so that a community focuses its energy and resources on itself rather than on outsiders. it is, quite literally, about building and expanding community. it's not merely about escaping men or banning men, it is about relying on women, building a community of women, centering women, making it so that women are not dependent on men because women got them. you see how that's qualitatively different right?

like it's not so much about cutting off your father or brothers, but about spending deliberately more time fortifying your relationships with other women in your life. whether helping them out financially, donating books, giving advice, buying their stuff, giving energy.

when it comes to revolution of any kind, they die quickly without a strong sense and presence of community.

one of the biggest wrenches patriarchy has thrown into women's liberation is poisoning female community. consciousness-raising is difficult because every new generation of women is cut off from the one preceding it. younger girls are taught to resent women and view women with suspicion. they are male-centric in that they believe males will protect, love, provide for and cherish them only to have a rude awakening sooner or later.

bridging that disconnect is going to take practicing varying degrees of separatism. for sharing of knowledge between women and girls is hampered by male presence. you've all seen this happen. when a man or boy enters the picture, conversation between women is crippled. we start censoring ourselves.

censorship is a huge issue feminists face at every turn, and it's worse because we experience this censorship not just via government or public forums where men are in charge, but in our interpersonal relationships. and not just in our interpersonal relationships, but by our own selves. only female community brings out the honesty in us and gives us the courage to speak out and think freely. we all know this.

separatism is not only imperative to women's health, it is imperative to consciousness raising. it's not about living in a male free utopia but about centering women in all things so that women's community is strengthened and prepared to take on their oppressors and patriarchal society (and so that it survives retaliations). girls don't need to be totally isolated from males. they need to have predominantly female (not feminine) influence in their lives. they need to be in a place where they do not depend on males or cater to them. they need to be female-centric. learning female-philosophy and perpetuating authentic female culture.

that's separatism.

and the good news is that feminists are not the first oppressed group to employ separatism. black liberation movements employ this as well and are strengthened when they do. it's how they won some of their most vicious battles. lgb communities also utilize(d) separatism and it strengthened their communities. they had to de-center the narratives of their oppressors and rely on each other instead of begging their oppressors for scraps. they won because they gave themselves to each other as a community.

separatism works. over and over again. liberation takes time, but it has always needed separatism.

i just keep thinking about how communities can disrupt and change society, y'know? like how even in the throes of capitalistic/imperialist/white supremacist greed, small communities find a way to take care of each other financially and physically. culture predates economy, even while economy can beget culture or poison it. i love how small communities can just say "fuck you" to the presiding ruler and create within themselves micro-economies to keep each other alive. economy is just, after all, a social agreement/condition.

women are the ones who will liberate women. keep investing in that and it'll pay off.

#separatism #female separatism #radblr

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lambtotheslaughterr · 18 hours

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Rise : Chapter Fifteen

A Rafe Cameron Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.7k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

CHAPTER FOURTEEN | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER SIXTEEN

IMPORTANT NOTE* hey ya'll! just a reminder that my requests are OPEN. please read this POST before making any requests as i have rules in place. there are four spots left (which you will see at the bottom of the linked post). so get your requests in if you're wanting to use me;p

You taught yourself to not wish for the obvious in the end of times. You stopped wondering what ever happened to your parents, your friends, your neighbors. You quit hoping that someway, somehow, the world would heal itself & you would find yourself & millions of others back to some semblance of a normal life. But most off all, you didn’t dream about waking up from this nightmare. It was real. It was happening. And all you could do was run with it. But what you would spend your time wishing for is that time would move faster.

The last week dragged by miserably. Though you were glad to have your own secure role in the group, it was oftentimes lonely. Those who scavenged were gone for days at a time, & those who didn’t worked together day-in & day-out. You were the only one who had this small corner of the building to yourself, & others rarely came to visit. One visitor you could always count on though was Rafe.

Though you were still wary of him, of the truths he told you, you still welcomed his presence. It was your only real human connection in the midst of all the bullshit. But your relationship with Rafe was beginning to bother you.

It wasn’t until a couple days ago when you were heading to the mess hall to get your lunch that you heard voices talking carelessly about you. The mess hall was large, where people sat to eat at the other end of it, but voices carried, & the voices that day were as clear as glass.

Your assimilation to the group was being mocked. They welcomed you, at first. But that was only when you were working alongside them. Now, the others were beginning to resent you. You heard as such before entering the mess hall, pausing outside the door to listen.

“Everyone knows that manning a radio is easy work. Boring, but easy.” One voice began. From what little interaction you had with the others, you thought it to be Enzo.

“Don’t forget useless.” Another pointed out & the others chuckled at that.

“Seriously. She doesn’t help at all. Rafe giving her that role was stupid, in my opinion. I mean, he told us when we got here that they were on the radio for days, only hearing recycled announcements. No one else is out there.”

You frowned at that but you knew it to be true.

“He just puts her there to keep an eye on her. He’ll bitch at us about pulling our weight but god forbid if he gives his whore a task worth doing.”

Your heart slammed in your chest at the insult. These people weren’t your friends, but they were supposed to be your community. Now, every smile they gave you felt forced. Every greeting was just a means to keep the peace. They didn’t care about you, they thought so little of you. But perhaps they were right.

Squaring your shoulders, you entered the mess hall, & the voices quieted instantly. But they played it off well.

Maddy elongated her neck, spotting you over Enzo’s shoulder, “Hey, _____.”

You waved a hand but said nothing in return. You gathered some food on your plate & got yourself a cup of water before leaving. You didn’t miss the judgmental scoffs as you did,

“Guess she’s too good for us now.” They all laughed.

Back down in the office, you threw your plate onto the desk, some food falling off. You weren’t hungry, but you couldn’t show weakness in front of them. You didn’t need friends. But the thought saddened you. Only a few months ago you had nine of them. But the world took the lives of half of them & the remaining few had little to say to you. Even Bear.

You thought a lot about Bear. You’d often catch him watching you with a concerned expression. It wasn’t filled with annoyance or resentment like the others. But you rarely had time to speak to him. Rafe was always nearby to interject, send Bear to do a task or find some reason to talk to you. Deep down, you knew Bear was your only friend, but you didn’t know how to get alone with him.

Downing your glass of water, you picked at your food mindlessly. The other were right though. After doing comms for a week there was nothing out there, no one. At first, you felt it was an important role & were happy to take it. But now, the others & their whispers were getting to you. You pushed your plate further back on the desk, your appetite lost.

It was midday, the scavengers were expected to return at some point today, as long as everything went according to plan & it usually did. You hoped to sneak some alone time with Bear. And as you thought about it further, Micah, too. Yes, he hated you, that much was clear. His reasoning was ridiculous but you could live with it. However, he was the one who could get you partnered with the scavengers. He had Rafe’s ear. If you got his approval, you didn’t see why it wouldn’t lead to Rafe’s. Scavenging was, after all, a lot more useful than the comms. The others would quit shit talking then.

You were beginning to doze off in your chair, the sound of white noise acting like a lullaby when it began to cackle & pop. You opened your eyes, confused & staring at the radio. It sounded like when you’re on the phone with someone & they forget to hang up, putting their phone in their pocket. All muffled movement. And then…

“Come in, hello.” The voice was clear as day before the radio cackled some more, the signal weak.

You rushed forward, knocking items off the desk in the process. You snatched the walkie connected to the radio.

“Hello, hello.” You spoke back, your heart pounding. As far as you knew, no one had ever made contact with another on this radio.

The radio continued to produce only white noise, but just underneath it all, you could make out the muffle of the voice.

“We—” more white noise.

“I’m here!” You gasped, grateful to hear others. But with the connection so weak you were fearful you wouldn’t get a location of where they were at.

“Our connection is weak.” You shared, hoping they could at least hear you better than you them, “Where are you?”

More muffling. More pops.

The voice responded but it was too static to make out, the interference strong. You gripped the talkie tighter.

Then, one word made it through.

“—of Rockingham.”

Dropping the walkie, you rolled your chair over to the back wall were a map of North Carolina was pinned, the edges fraying.

Your eyes rapidly moved over the map. Rockingham. Rockingham.

There!

It was 60 miles south of Asheboro, a feasible hour drive. You returned to the desk, your voice frantic with excitement as you spoke into the walkie.

“Where in Rockingham?”

The radio only responded with white noise. You asked the question again.

No. You couldn’t lose them. This was the first sign of life.

“Hello, I’m losing you.” You shared. But there was no response.

The radio only returned with it’s usual white noise. You tossed the walkie down in frustration. You had lost them. But it wasn’t all said & done quite yet. Glancing over your shoulder, you eyed Rockingham on the map. The voice had said ‘of Rockingham’. That left a lot to consider. East of Rockingham? West? And if so, how far in either direction? What was their nearest landmark? Or did they mean the Walmart of Rockingham? The precinct? The possibilities were endless. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

But it was something. The first something any of the group had had in weeks. You wouldn’t be useless. And more so, you could be the one to find them. You only needed to get Micah & Rafe on board.

Rafe joined you in time for when the scavengers returned. He still wouldn’t trust you alone with them. It aggravated you, but you couldn’t let it show. You needed him to think you were trustworthy.

As Matt & Robbie passed off boxes & bags of what they found off to Micah & Bear, you & Rafe were in charge of bringing the goods inside. But shortly after you started, Adrianna appeared.

“Rafe.” She stood in the doorway, her eyes hard, “We need you upstairs. Got a problem.”

Rafe sighed heavily, “Can it wait? We just got started.”

“I guess.” She shrugged, “I’ll just tell the others I won’t know how long till the water’s back on.”

“Shit.” He groaned. It had been a nice surprise to learn that the Mill still had running water. But if they water supply was giving grief, it’d only be a matter of time before a domino effect happened.

Rafe turned to you, “Keep bringing stuff in, alright?”

“Yeah, alright.” You nodded. Rafe stepped forward, his hand on your shoulder as he leaned forward to leave a kiss on your temple. You forced a small smile up at him.

Once Rafe & Adrianna were gone, you went back outside. This was your moment. You had to get Bear alone. You couldn’t trust Rafe with the information about the others. Not yet.

Micah spotted you first, his expression always one of irritability.

“Where the fuck is Rafe?”

You nodded back towards the building, “Had other priorities.”

“Fuckin’ of course.” Micah mumbled.

On the ground was a pile of goods. But you wouldn’t be able to carry them all yourself. At the risk of appearing weak, you got Micah’s attention.

“I’m gonna need help with these.” You gestured to the goods at your feet, “Bear can help me.”

Micah glared at you, his eyes narrowed. But he ultimately shook his head, “Whatever, just make it fuckin’ fast.”

Bear stepped away from the other side of Micah, helping you to gather what you could carry. He followed after you as you led him back towards the building. Once you were far enough away, you kept your voice hush.

“Bear.” You began, “I heard people on the radio.”

Bear looked at you with wide eyes as he glanced over his shoulder in Micah & the other’s direction.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” You whispered excitedly. Inside, you felt safer to speak louder. “They’re in Rockingham. Or near it. I’m not sure. The connection was weak.”

Bear frowned but nodded. You two took your time putting the goods away.

“We can go.” You told him, “Find them.”

But Bear slowly shook his head, “That’s not a good idea.”

Now, it was your turn to frown, “Why not?”

Bear sighed, looking you deep in the eyes, “Because Rafe’ll kill them.”

You returned his stare, “I wasn’t talking about Rafe…”

It was then that Bear seemed to understand what you were saying.

“You think we should leave?”

“Yes.” You nodded, checking the window to make sure Micah & the others were still far away. “You & me, we’ll go. Leave here. Join others.”

“I’m not against that, but…why?”

“Because Rafe told me how he runs things. How he’s killed people. And I feel like he’s not telling me the whole truth.”

“What has he told you?” Bear squinted his eyes.

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t trust him. And he doesn’t trust us, that much is clear. So, I say we make a run for it. Head to Rockingham, see if we can’t find those on the radio. But if anything, at least were gone from here.”

Bear leaned against the wall, contemplating your words. He nodded.

“That’ll be tough, ya know. Getting out of here. Rafe keeps it tight.”

“But you know how he runs things. I don’t. We’ll work together & get out.”

He stared hard at the ground, “Are you sure, _____? Because if he finds out what we’re planning, there’s no saying what he’ll do.”

“I know.” You nodded in agreement, “But I’ll feel safer out there with you then with all of them in here.”

“Alright.” Bear stepped forward, his arms crossed over his chest, “We’ll do it. But we’ll need a solid plan. No fucking up.”

“I know.”

“Hey!” You both jumped as Micah suddenly appeared. His flashed between the two of you. “The fuck is taking so long?”

“Sorry.” You mumbled.

“Get back out there.” Micah growled. Bear gave you a look, one that said you two would talk later, before leaving the room. You were about to follow behind him when Micah stepped in your way.

“What the hell were you two just talking about?”

You eyed him innocently, shaking your head, “Nothing. Bitching, really.”

“Yeah? About what?” Micah narrowed his eyes, his favorite look to give you.

“Just life.” You gave a half-hearted smile.

Micah leaned forward then, his voice low, “At least you have one.”

The threatening undertone was there. He leaned back, meeting your eyes, “I’d be grateful.”

“Of course.” Your voice was barely audible. Micah stared at you for a moment longer before finally stepping to the side to allow you to pass.

You rushed forward, your heart thrumming inside your ribcage. Back outside you resumed loading goods inside but Micah was keeping a close eye on the two of you. It felt like you were back in school after having gotten caught passing notes in class. You were a bad seed. Micah wanted to rip your roots out.

You were alone, finishing the final bit of unloading when Bear appeared. It was quick, but to the point.

�� “He heard us.” Bear began, referencing Micah, “We leave tonight. Meet me in the back alley. There’s a hole in the wall near the room where Rafe kept me. Don’t bring anything with you, it’ll draw his attention.”

“What?” There was no plan. It would be too dangerous, “But we—”

“We go or we suffer.” Bear interjected. He was about to leave, in a hurry to not be spotted by Micah but you grabbed his arm.

“When tonight?”

Bear sniffed, “It’s gonna rain. You can see it in the clouds. When you hear the first thunderclap, go. I’ll set a distraction.”

You nodded. Then he was gone.

You swallowed a lump that was growing in your throat. This was really happening. You & Bear would be leaving. Your hands shook as you put items from the scavenging away.

“What’s got you spooked?” You jumped slightly at Rafe’s voice behind you.

Spinning around, you shook your head, “You were right about Micah.”

Rafe’s eyes hardened at that, “What’d he do?”

“Nothing.” You replied breathlessly, “Just scared me is all.”

It was true, but it would also track if Rafe confronted him. He’d be focused on Micah, not you. And that’s what you needed.

“What’d he do, _____?” He grabbed your elbow gently, but was firm in making you look at him.

“Just said I should be grateful I have a life.” You mustered a smile, “See? So, nothing bad.”

Rafe looked away, his eyes wide with fury, “Go upstairs. You’re done for the day. I’ll talk to Micah.”

“Okay.” You went to move past him but he was still holding you.

“I’d never let him hurt you, you know that, right?”

“I do.”

Rafe nodded then brought you closer. His mouth found yours, his lips warm. You forced yourself to return the kiss. At least you had him in your favor, & you’d be damned if you didn’t take advantage of it.

“Go, I’ll see you in a bit.”

With that, you parted from Rafe & walked away, hoping it wouldn’t be too long before you were released from him for good.

It was dark out. Heavy clouds rolled in & you sat in anticipation on your shared bed with Rafe. He had been gone for a couple hours. You had yet to see him, or Bear even. Your mind was racing at what was about to unfold. Bear said to wait for the first thunderclap, that he would set a distraction. But what kind? You sincerely hoped that with no planning, you would succeed in getting out.

About twenty minutes later, Rafe finally appeared. He came into the room looking exhausted. You sat up in bed.

“You okay?”

He peered at you, giving you a half-smile before nodding, “Yeah, people are just dumbasses, ya know.”

“Mmm.” You replied wordlessly.

He approached you on the bed, crawling up it until he was beside you. You allowed yourself to relax as he brought you into his arms.

“I talked to Micah.”

That made your heart stop. If Micah did hear like Bear said so, what would he have told Rafe? You were no friend of Micah’s, he would have no reason to protect you.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, told him he better quit with the passive aggressive threats or it’ll be his life he’s gotta worry about.”

You gulped. You didn’t want Micah dead. But it would be better him than you.

“What else did he say?”

Rafe sighed heavily, “Just bitched a lot. Nothing for you to worry about. He’ll come around. One day.”

You hoped you would be long gone if that day ever came.

Rafe slipped a hand under your arm, maneuvering you until you were situated atop him, straddling his hips. You didn’t like the positioning.

His hands rubbed up & down your exposed thighs as he stared up at you. Your own hands were mindlessly placed on his stomach.

“What?” You huffed out, giving an awkward smile.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” He asked. Shit. Micah did hear something.

“No.” You frowned, “Why?”

“Like I told you before, some people want to drive us apart.”

You needed him to trust you, to believe you would never betray him. If only for a little while longer.

“They can’t keep us apart.” You told him, feeling brave enough to lean forward, “We belong together, remember? You told me that.”

You ran your fingers along his jawline before threading them through his hair.

“Yeah.”

But he didn’t look entirely convinced. So, you took it one step further.

Rafe sighed into your mouth as you kissed him, his hands gripping your thighs. You opened your eyes enough to see that his were closed. He was licked & nipped at your lips, hoping for entrance. You obliged. As his tongue massaged your own, you were suddenly flipped onto your back. Rafe grinded his hips into yours & a pulse shot up your spine.

It felt wrong. All of it. You unlatched your mouth from his but he continued to kiss your jaw, neck, & shoulder as his hands slipped under your oversized t-shirt. You fluttered your eyes closed, trying to calm your heavy breathing. Rafe would view it as euphoria coming over you, but it was dread.

He leaned upwards to rip of his own t-shirt before returning his body to yours. He cupped your cheek, making you look at him before he returned to kissing you. Bile rose in your throat but you forced yourself to keep it down.

Rafe’s hands found the underside of your breasts, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin there. You gasped into the kiss, feeling him smile against your lips. He dragged his hips against yours, his evident arousal hitting your center nearly perfectly. You moaned reluctantly. But he took it as a means to go further.

Before you could resist, Rafe lifted your top, removing it effectively from your body. You instinctively covered your exposed breasts but Rafe frowned, gently grabbing your wrists, “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Your mind was racing, desperately searching for the memories that would back up his claims. But nothing turned up. Rafe kissed down your neck to the valley between your breasts. Your skin erupted with goosebumps as his mouth hovered over a pert nipple. When his tongue grazed over it, your body pushed up into his touch.

“God, I’ve missed this.” He shared breathlessly.

Words failed you, but your body was beginning to respond to his touch. His other hand reached below graze the edge of your underwear.

No. No, no, no.

Tears pricked your eyes. Please.

A clap thunder boomed above, practically shaking the building. You yelped from the loud sound & Rafe’s teeth accidentally nipping your sensitive flesh.

“Shh, calm down.” Rafe grinned, “It’s only a storm.”

It was more than that, though. It was your time to go.

“Rafe.” You pushed backwards, out of his arms, resting against the wall, “I’m not ready.”

“What?” His hooded, heated gaze shifted into one of frustration, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry. It’s not gonna happen overnight.”

“It’s been more than a night, it’s been a goddamn week!” He raised his voice, making you jump more than the thunder had.

You stared at him wide-eyed, “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t what else to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” He growled, shaking his head, “You don’t have to do anything. I can do all the work.”

“What?” The fuck was he getting at?

Rafe harshly gripped your ankle, dragging you back down the bed, “Nothing I haven’t done already.”

“Rafe, no!” But he wasn’t listening. He was quick to snatch both your wrists in one hand, holding them above your head as his other hand reached for the button on his jeans.

You shook violently beneath, trying to throw him off you with your hips but he was bigger than you, stronger, & quite literally, had the upper hand.

“After everything I’ve done for you!” Rafe hollered as he moved to rip your underwear off, “This is the least you can do for me.”

A cry tore from your throat as you lied bare before Rafe, your imprisoner.

But just as he was shoving his jeans down his thighs, a sudden boom sounded, shaking the building. But this wasn’t thunder.

“What the fuck was that?” Rafe mindlessly let go of your wrists, listening as you both heard panicked screams in the distance.

“Rafe!” It was Adrianna in the hallway. “Rafe, hurry!”

“Fuck!” He shouted, shoving himself off the bed, “Fuck, fuck!”

Hurriedly dressing, Rafe had seemingly forgotten about you on the bed. You took the opportunity to search desperately for your clothes. You managed to get your underwear & t-shirt back on before Rafe focused his attention on you again.

“You.” He pointed, “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

You said nothing, your body shaking after what he was just about to do to you.

“And when I come back,” He approached you, snatching your chin in his hand, “I’ll finish what you started.”

Tears skipped down your cheeks, your chin quaking in his hold. You ripped your head away from him, but nodded. He didn’t need to know that you wouldn’t be here when he returned.

Adrianna burst into the room then, her eyes briefly flashing to yours, taking in your state of dress before frowning slightly. Then she looked at Rafe, “There’s a fire out front, I think someone exploded your truck.”

“Goddamnit! Let’s go.” Tossing you a look of warning, Rafe finally disappeared with Adrianna, the door slamming shut behind him. But then you heard the grinding pop of metal.

Did he…?

Racing forward, you tugged on the door. It wouldn’t budge.

“No!” You banged on the door, pulling uselessly on it, hoping it would give. But it was locked securely.

“Fuck.” You breathed out. Running to the dresser, you quickly slipped into a pair of jeans before throwing a pair of boots on. You grabbed a jacket folded over the back of a chair & slung an empty backpack over your arms. You couldn’t just sit here & wait. You still had to try.

Another clap of thunder boomed above followed by the sound of heavy rain pelting against the windows. Rushing to windows, you cranked one open, the metal rusting as you did. You groaned painfully as you mustered all your strength to get it all the way open. Rain pelted you in the face, quickly soaking your hair as you leaned out. Rafe’s room faced the back alley where Bear would be.

Leaning out, your looked up & down the alley but it was difficult to make anything out. It was too dark, rain was getting in your eyes, your hair was whipping you in the face.

“Bear!” You screamed but you knew it wouldn’t carry against the rage of the storm.

But then, at the mouth of the alleyway, you saw a figure. Bear. He was too far away to hear you.

“Fuck, Bear!” You yelled again, but no luck. He wasn’t even looking in your direction.

Panicking, you begun to look for anything outside the window you could use to scale down on. But there was nothing, no piping, no grips in the brick that would make getting down easier, no fire escape. Besides, in the chaos of the storm you’d likely fall anyway. But perhaps that’s what you had to do to get away.

You peered down in the dark. It was only two stories. But it wasn’t the typical two stories. The walls were taller here. You’d at least have to jump two & a half to get down. But you had to. Without giving yourself to think on it, you gripped the center of the window, carefully leveraging yourself to swing your legs out.

“Bear!” You screamed once more, hoping he would hear you. But as you peered through the darkness you watched as he took off around the corner. Away from the mill. He had waited for you. He couldn’t wait any longer, Rafe & the others would find him & kill him. You had to be quick if you were going to catch up to him.

Breathing fast, you felt yourself stiffen, you needed to jump. Now! Before Rafe came back, before Bear was in the wind. Jump, _____! Jump! NOW!

A scream ripped from your throat as you launched yourself out the window. The ground came fast, too fast, & you hit it, landing on your feet, but your ankles gave out & you collapsed to the ground.

“Ahh, fuuuuck!” You screeched, reaching down to hold your ankles. They were pulsing. But you had to go. Heaving yourself up, you tested your ankles. They were sore, tender, likely having twisted them, but you couldn’t let that stop you. Limping, you began to move as fast as you could toward the end of the alley where you had last seen Bear.

Please, don’t be far.

You continued hobbling, desperate to get as far away as possible before Rafe discovered you were gone. You had just made it to the mouth of the alleyway, looking in the direction that Bear took off it. It was towards the woods. You had to get there fast.

But just as you started limping in that direction, voices sounded behind you. The loudest was Micah’s. And it was growing closer. There was a few dumpsters to your left & you were quick to dive in between them, desperately hoping that the darkness would shield you from murderous intent.

You tugged your legs to your chest, pressing yourself as much as you could against the brick. Micah’s voice was getting closer. Another voice joined his. Rafe’s.

The storm continued to boom & flash & whip about, making it difficult for you to hear as their footfalls grew closer. And by the time you could, it was already too late.

A bright light blinded you, forcing you to whine as you shieled your eyes from the flashlight.

An impressed whistle came from behind the flashlight, “Well, look what I found.”

The flashlight lowered & Micah stood before you, a deadly grin on his face.

“I told you, man. Her & Bear were up to no good.”

Rafe appeared then as he spotted you. The heavy rain had his hair stuck to his forehead. Another clap of thunder sounded followed by a bolt of lightning that lit up the alleyway. In that brief moment, you saw the look in Rafe’s eyes. And the wrath you saw there rivaled the storm.

This was it for you. That much you accepted quickly. But you hoped Bear got away. But hope, as you knew, was a silly thing to cling to.

alright, the second to last plot turn Rise will take before finishing strong.

as always, please share your thoughts with me via commenting, reblogging w reviews, or dropping an ask. don't leave ya girl hanging, i love to hear your thoughts!

thank you for reading!

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#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!fic #dark!fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #non con fic #dark!outer banks #rise chapter fifteen

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hiemaldesirae · 3 days

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LOOL YES!! That's what you get Alastor!! Cursed cat!Alastor adores Vox and would never hurt him. Honestly it'd be hilarious if Vox does an interview that night and the entire hotel (plus Lucifer) catches it and Cursed cat!Alastor is on Vox's shoulders just purring away and happily nuzzling Vox's screen and being happily petted and Alastor is gripping his fixed staff, grinding his fangs, jealousy leaking from him.

Charlie is pleased: "Alastor, I knew you could find that cat a good home! Thank you! =D"

Everyone else is fucking shocked. They know Alastor threw that cat at the Vees for entertainment and hell raising purposes (and in Husk's case, a way to try and get Vox to come back to him. Most of Alastor's schemes involving the Vees always, always revolve about getting Vox back.)

The interview is about a new product of Voxtech, but at the end of it, they ask about Vox's new pet and Vox just puffs up, proud as can be:

Vox: "This little demon just charged into the lobby, brutally attacking my staff! 2 or 3 died, I think 4 or 5 were maimed so I of course had to keep him! Isn't that right, Venom? (Cause Vox thought he had rabies....and he foams at the mouth when he attacks...so...and the V theme.) Isn't he precious?"

*sir is fine, for future reference. but YEAH, alastor would definitely be seething with rage- like whole fucking cartoon ass face too, he's NOT having the time of his life rn. why the FUCK was vox petting that hellspawn???? that should've been HIM ???????????

also venom is a perfect name for that little shit, honestly, though ill be fr i can only think of the. You know. Venom.

anyway whatever here's another writing snip. (vv short because i have morning classes tmw and im going to freak if im late again) you guys are greedy asf but whatever ill provide like any good father would

"Oh, dear... and he *kept* it, is that right?" Rosie gasps as she watches Alastor grip his hair tightly, head cradled in his hands. She giggles as she continues teasing the poor demon, "My, Alastor, isn't he quite the catch? Compassionate and caring to boot, not to mention that he seems to be *quite* popular among the denizens of Hell!"

"Rosie, my dear, please. Stop talking. For the love of God, stop talking," Alastor's ears flatten more as he begs his friend, Rosie merely laughing softly in delight as she watches.

"You can hardly blame me for being curious, Alastor! I mean, you always refused to take your sweet little picture box to Cannibal Town when the two of you were still talking... why, I had to learn of your dalliance through Mimzy! And, not to devalue my beloved's qualities, of course, but she's *hardly* the greatest source of information one can find-- I married her out of love, not for her communication skills."

"That *thing* probably has rabies," Alastor spits out, looking as if he'd just swallowed a particularly bitter pill. "I don't *understand* what he sees in it!"

"Well, it does look quite like you," Rosie points out leisurely. She takes a sip out of her teacup before continuing, "Perhaps he's treating it as a substitute for you? You know, in the way that some would treat their plushs like pets, he's treating his pet as... well, you."

Alastor narrows his eyes at her. "Vox *knows* that if he wanted to talk to me, he could easily just go over and tune into our shared frequencies. He's *replacing* me with it, Rosie, I just know it!"

"Hm... well, in that case, why don't you just go and make it clear to him that you aren't replacable?" Rosie taps the edge of her cup with a knowing glint in her abyssal black eyes, holding her good friend's gaze steadily. "You've never shyed away from confrontation before, have you, Alastor? Why be hesitant now?"

Alastor licked his lips, staring down in his lap before he picked up his own teacup and downed the liquid inside like a shot.

"Thank you for hosting me today, Rosie. I think... I've reached a conclusion."

A knowing smirk crosses the Cannibal Overlord's face. "Of course you have. I expect to be formally introduced to your lovely little muse soon, you understand?"

"Yes, my fair lady," Alastor rolls his eyes with amusement. "But you had better not try and take a bite of him."

"Who, little old me? I'd never, dear!"

"You had better not," Alastor frowns. Though his tone is joking, his expression falls flat.

Elsewhere, in the Entertainment District, Vox sneezes into Venom's fur as he cradles the fluffball of red fur. The freaky kitten turns to look up at him with a questioning look, but he only ruffles Venom's ears apologetically.

"Sorry, Ven. I don't know what came over me just now- oh, look at this! Should we get you this collar, or that one...?"

#ran rambles #chai writes #hazbin hotel #general asks #radiostatic #cursed cat alastor #the sneezing is because of the superstitition by the way #where if someone speaks about you you sneeze

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peripaltepsy · 16 hours

Text

BEWARE OF "body mod advices" - they can be dangerous and LETHAL.

(this post was about a deactivated blog but extends to any possible future blog like it)

edit3 since he deactivated: Red told me in the DMs that he WILL be more careful about all this risk stuff, I believe he is going to do better. Im sure he's a good person and he also was extremely civil in the DMs. Since he's not here to defend himself anymore I'll gladly take his side and say that despite this mess, all Red wanted to do was indeed reduce harm and potentially save lives. Good luck on all your endeavors, Red, I wish you a beautiful and successful career and that you have a great positive impact in the atypical dysphoria community, both on and offline. I don't know how my post truly impacted you, I'm so sorry if you're feeling bad. You acted the best way you possibly could.

Second, if Red comes back, DO NOT HARASS HIM, let him be himself and don't let his past hold them down.

Third, all my points still stand for their deactivated blog and any potential body mod tips blogs in the future. Please everyone, take care, stay safe.

Past edit: DONT HARASS any possible blogs like hers, just REPORT and spread awareness, (also don't make the same mistakes as me: TALK TO THEM FIRST)

Past edit: minors please interact with this post, forget my bio for this one

Past edit: editing editing the post since I talked to Red and he isn't bait. I definitely should have talked to them in DMs first. I sincerely apologize. So sorry Red! To those reading, don't make the same mistake as me, ok? Always talk to people privately first, I genuinely fucked up bad. This mistake of assuming others intentions, can traumatize them. If I were in Red's shoes I'd be traumatized. So yeah, I fucked up bad.

Their intentions are genuine but my point still stands that its extremely dangerous and can't qualify as harm-reduction / end edit note

alright, I'm not transid/radqueer but you guys need to REPORT AND WARN OTHERS of these accounts as soon as they appear. Do not entertain them, no matter how desperate you are to transition. You can become a victim of dangerous charlatanism.

LONG POST AHEAD, VERY IMPORTANT NEVERTHELESS

Archive to what i'm about to post

Red claimed to be "a non-professional surgeon, planning on getting better with practice." Bad move!

Red has told me he's pursuing a medical degree and won't actually do non-qualified surgery.

Red: "The blog is centered around an idea of "extreme" body mods that I would like to explore further, [...] things like breaking and re-mending bones, creating new joints, replacing skin, etc."

My point: the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and your blog was unsafe.

To any possible counterarguments: "But they (people following/asking advice) know the risks!" That's victim-blaming. Red gave himself the responsibility to give harm-reducing advice, but he didn't do a good job.

"But I know the risks!" You can't possibly know the risks because Red doesn't know either or "kinda knows" but has not properly informed his audience, it didnt give sources, oversimplified their advice and failed to provide accurate information about risk. Or gave plain misinformation.

Again I'm not transid, I can't possibly imagine what you're going through in order to try anything at all to feel better, including trying experimental surgery not legally available or not researched at all. However, please please please do not become a victim of medical deceit or whatever tf it's called. Even if the blog owner tries their best to be reliable.

They might sound confident, but they do not know what they are saying, what they're telling others to do.

Ask: "How would I make my skin gray without tattoos?" (DO NOT SHAME THIS USER BTW)

Red: "[...] I assume you want permanent grey. To do this, it's pretty simple, although it'll take a lot of time. Basically, what you want to do is to constantly be exposed to lots of silver. Any product with silver in it like specific lotions and skin creams. also fish, milk, mushrooms, and whole grains tend to have silver in them! So tldr, consume lots of silver!"

STOP!!! DONT FOLLOW THIS ADVICE!!! DONT OVER-EXPOSE YOURSELF TO SILVER!!! "Silver toxicity causes argyria. Silver toxicity occurs when too much silver is in your body." <- from a simple research on "too much silver in blood"

THE RESULT WILL BE ARGYRIA. EVEN IF YOU DO IT SLOWLY, YOU ARE BUILDING UP A HEAVY METAL IN YOUR BODY. THE GREY SKIN IS NOT PRETTY NOR WITHOUT GRUESOME SIDE SYMPTOMS.

Yall. Anything in excess will fuck up your body, including iron, vitamins, and silver.

To whoever asked Red, I don't know your mind, but I'm sure you'd love to live a happy life with grey skin! You'd love to have a body you're comfortable with and looks rad as hell! But you wouldn't be able to enjoy it if you're deeply sick with ARGYRIA, WHICH IS WHAT RED'S ADVICE WILL GIVE YOU!

Ask: "How do I get darker skin without going too dark? I’m pale and burn easily, I just want a color similar to Lin Manuel Miranda" (AGAIN DONT HARASS THIS USER)

Red: [...] "expose yourself to the sun more! As you do this, you'll get tan which will protect you from future burns and make your skin slightly darker, do this enough and you can engineer your skin to be as dark as you want!"

THATS MISINFORMATION! Yes you may tan to get darker (Lin's tone may or may not be achievable to you) but one: it's not permanent unless you're constantly going out; two: SKIN CANCER!!!! DONT OVER-EXPOSE YOURSELF TO THE SUN!!!! USE SUNSCREEN!!

TO ANYONE SEEKING A MUCH DARKER TONE: YOU CAN'T "GO AS DARK AS YOU WANT TO" BY TANNING. Just look at people who have lived their whole lives outdoors like farmers! White people can't tan to black! There's a limit to how tan you may get! Are you seriously gonna risk skin cancer for an impossible thing???

Red: "Self amputation is really dangerous! You should learn how to use a tourniquet, that way, you can stop the bleeding! [...]" WHERE ARE YOU GETTING YOUR SOURCES, RED?

If anyone reading this is seriously thinking of amputating themselves, and will not change their minds no matter what, please just have someone immediately drive you to the hospital. I do not support such operation and you can still die or get horribly sick even with your best precautions, but you better receive actual medical attention and stay alive rather than trying to heal it yourself. Because what you'll most likely get from following Red's advice is DEATH FROM BLOOD LOSS. Again, if you absolutely cannot get rid of this dysphoria with therapy, or manage it at least, or have a doctor do it for you, I still would NEVER suggest you do it yourself, but IF you end up doing that then at least please go straight to the hospital instead of trying to heal it yourself.

Red: "do not try and break your own bones to make modifications! [...] Get another person (Like myself) to help you with the bone breakage instead."

NO ONE KNOWS WTF THEY'RE DOING. YOUR FRIEND DOESN'T. RED DOESN'T (as they advertised in the post). NO ONE IS GOING TO GET MODIFICATIONS LIKE THIS. NO ONE IS GOING TO BE HAPPY. EVERYONE IS GOING TO BE EITHER IN PAIN, RISK OF HORRIBLE INJURIES OR TROUBLE WITH THE LAW. FUCKING AROUND = GUARANTEED BOTCHED OPERATION.

Also, now that Red has clarified she won't perform surgery until having an actual degree, you can't really go to her XD

Red: "Some advice for surgery [...] This one's important, make sure your patient is strapped down and properly sedated, if they move, even slightly, you risk hitting a vital artery or organ, if you do hit an artery, don't panic, this is why you learned how to use a tourniquet! if you hit a vital organ though, odds are you won't know how to fix that, so be extra careful with abdomen and face surgery!"

Thats still promoting medical malpractice, mutilating and potentially killing friends, dangerously downplaying surgery so much, this is not harm-reduction

Ask: "I want to be blind in one eye, but more-so in the sense of extreme but not total vision loss. I want to do something permanent in the future!" (AGAIN DONT HARASS THIS USER)

Red: Well, a simple fix to your problem is just get some calcium hydroxide in your eye and wash it out a few minutes later, this should lead to permanent, extreme (but not total) vision loss in that eye. Keep it in too long and it can cause total vision loss so be careful!

Ok so, it's great that you're trying to come up with alternative ways for users not to kill themselves by gouging their eyes out, but you've still failed to give them the full picture

From a quick search "calcium hydroxide in the eyes": Exposure to the skin can produce burns, painful irritation and necrosis, and exposure to the eyes may cause severe pain and vision loss that can be temporary or permanent. If calcium hydroxide is exposed to the skin, contaminated clothing should be removed, excess amounts of the chemical should be wiped off and the affected skin should be flushed repeatedly with water. Victims of calcium hydroxide exposure to the eyes should flush their eyes with water continuously for the first 15 minutes, but all cases of external exposure should receive immediate medical care. Inhaling calcium hydroxide through the nose or mouth can also cause immediate, painful and potentially life-threatening complications. Throat and nasal passages may become painful and swollen, and the swelling may restrict airways, making breathing difficult or impossible. If the calcium hydroxide particles are carried all the way to the lungs, this may further complicate breathing. Victims of this type of exposure should be taken immediately to a fresh air environment, and emergency services should be contacted right away. Administration of oxygen and emergency respiratory assistance may be required.

Red (answering an ask): "the question shouldn't be what DO people replace their skin with, it should be what CAN they, after all, just because it's never been practiced or very rarely practiced doesn't mean it's bad or impossible! Of course, my personal favorite skin substitutes are rubber and red velvet, I am also a big fan of stainless steel."

(Don't promote such an operation). THIS OPERATION IS BAD AND IMPOSSIBLE TO SUCCEED. SKIN CAN ONLY BE REPLACED WITH SKIN. SKIN IS A LIVING ORGAN. ANY OTHER SUBSTITUTE WILL CAUSE YOU TO LOSE BODY PARTS OR DIE.

YOU KNOW HOW PEOPLE WITH TRANSPLANTS NEED LIFE-LONG MEDICAL ATTENTION SO THEIR BODY DOESN'T REJECT IT? HOW TF WILL YOU DO THIS WITH FUCKING RED VELVET?

YOU WILL FUCK UP YOUR BODY'S IMMUNE SYSTEM A THOUSAND DIFFERENT WAYS.

ANYWAYS. CROSSTAGGING FOR REACH. PLEASE EVERYONE REBLOG. THIS IS SERIOUS SHIT.

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