#intermittent reinforcement
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eyesaremosaics ¡ 2 years ago
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Limerance
/ˈlimər(ə)ns/
nounPSYCHOLOGY
1. the state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person, typically experienced involuntarily and characterized by a strong desire for reciprocation of one's feelings but not primarily for a sexual relationship.
When your heart is heavy from years of unhealed trauma, romantic obsession can feel like the brand new adventure that you have craved for so long. The high can be likened to that of a drug. When reality has so often hurt and disappointed you, the world of your imagination can become a place of refuge. Suddenly, every minuscule interaction can feel profound and deeply spiritual.
I have been both on the giving and receiving end of this phenomenon. Though my situation was tempered with complicated factors, I can honestly say limerance is something I have experienced more than once.
Have you ever had a relationship (or perceived relationship) where the other person rarely interacts with you, but the few times that they do, causes you to fall into this fantasy of what the relationship could/would be like if this person suddenly became emotionally available to you?
My first time encountering limerance, was when I was about 12 or 13 years old. There was a boy in my class, who always stared at me. To the point where it made me very uncomfortable. Another boy in my class, told me they overheard him sexualizing me to other boys in the locker room, expressing explicit things he wished to do with me.
As a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, talking about sex made me vomit. In fact, most of my life I have had to be high or drunk to go through with sexual activity. That is something I still work through, even with a loving and devoted partner.
To return to the point, I was very upset that this person (who I was timidly trying to develop a friendship with) was talking this way and thinking of me like this behind my back. I felt violated. As a result, I was cruel in my rejection of him. Ever since I was a child, I preferred to be in my imagination where no one could hurt me, and found real people as intrusions.
I have regrets about being so unkind. Not just to him, but to many other people who sought connection with me in my childhood. I was too hurt and wounded to trust people easily. My cold indifference to others was the heavy armor I wore.
This boy had an unhealthy obsession with me though. He saw me as his dream girl, and put me on a pedestal, wrote me letters in blood about how I ripped apart his soul etc. —which made me very uncomfortable. I remember even writing him back once when I was 14 or 15 years old, expressing to him that I have never spoken more than a few sentences to him in my entire life, and he can’t possibly feel as strongly about me as he did.
He wrote me back trying to rationalize all the reasons why we were made for each other etc. He went on and on about all that we had in common, and all his predictions about me coming true. “It never stopped. It still hasn’t.” I remember being weirded out, but shrugging it off and returning to my life.
I don’t know what it is about me, but I have had at least 7 stalkers in my life. Men who fell in love with the “image” or the “idea” that they projected on me, and not the reality. I still contend with some of these people trying to contact me from time to time, but knowing that silence is also an answer, has me hoping that silence will be enough to dispel the illusion. What you feed thrives, what you starve, dies.
To summarize this story quickly, I ended up running into the same boy again at a party when we were 18. The creepiest part is that he fashioned himself into a sort of… male version of me. He said he grew his hair out to feel “closer” to me, and used to sit and stare at my picture in the yearbook etc. He wrote all this poetry about me, made all this art dedicated to me. I was overwhelmed by the attention and interest.
I had been in love with a different boy all through high school, one who was also my best friend. The boy I loved, never returned my feelings to the same degree, and this rejection sent me into a spiral of self loathing and deep depression for years to come.
Emotional neglect and abuse in my childhood, led me to fear abandonment, and develop anxious attachments. With all that being said, at 18 years old, having a boy who was seemingly so in love with you and all about you—was very appealing. So I jumped from one unhealthy relationship into another.
After 7 years of pining over me, he finally had me, and once he did—the spell of limerance was broken. You see, what this boy felt for me was not love. It was limerance. He projected a fantasy relationship onto me as a way to escape from his own trauma. Even though this person turned out to be a truly evil person in the end, I will not sink so low as to divulge any of his personal traumas here. Needless to say—there were many traumas that helped create the person he became. He developed a personality disorder to cope with his childhood. Narcissists are made, not born. They are usually born from neglect.
This is where the limerance began for me. Though to be honest, I did experience it with my first love as well. My first love did care about me, I know that for sure as we developed a deep abiding friendship with him afterwards that was totally platonic. However, in the throes of first love, I definitely projected a lot of wishful thinking and obsessive thought onto him.
Going back to this other boy: soon as he had me in real life—he no longer wanted me. He realized that I was a flawed human being, just like everyone else. This shattered the fantasy image he had in his head. The challenge was over, and he withdrew.
Since he is a narcissist, he toyed with my affections for fun. Narcissists have no core self and need to thrive off of others energy. My “love” for him seemed to fuel him (or so ex girlfriends of his have told me). He didn’t want to be with me, because he enjoyed seeing me in pain too much, and also most importantly—because he didn’t love me. Yet I held onto the crumbs, held on to hope. It didn’t help that he kept leaving crumbs (intentionally I’m sure) for me to follow. To keep him on my radar. That’s what abusers do.
It was safe to retreat to my room, to listen to sad songs that made me think of him, to make art to process my feelings, to fantasize and live in the few good moments that we shared. Cradling them like fragile eggshells in my hand. Living in the spiritual realm where we could actually be together and care for each other.
It took me years of therapy and study of psychology to understand what happened in this situation. It did real damage to me for many years. Luckily I came out the other side, and can now look back on this situation with love and empathy for myself—and even for him.
Truthfully, I find him to be rather pitiful. He will never know real love or friendship, and I truly feel sorry for him. I know he wasn’t born evil. I saw these glitches of who he could have been, otherwise I never would have had feelings for him. It’s a shame he chose not to develop his better qualities. He fell hard into evil and destruction. What a waste. Just goes to show you how he really feels about himself, if his greatest joy in life is trying to make others miserable.
His manipulations may have worked in his twenties, but now he’s in his 30s, and it’s getting harder for him to “turn the trick” as they say. He has always had a penchant for manipulating young girls, that shows you his level of emotional maturity right there.
I did the work. I looked honestly at myself and healed all my wounds. I cleaned up my act and got my life together. I have a loving partner, I got promoted at both my jobs, pulling in good money, living in a two bedroom flat in the city, driving a BMW, modeling for famous designers, traveling to new places, making a living off my tarot… I’ve built a beautiful and exciting life for myself. A life full of love, friendship, creativity, and adventure. He has not been able to do that from what I gather from mutual friends and acquaintances. It’s sad.
Looking back I relate this relationship to the moon card in the tarot. The meaning of this card is duplicitous, for the romantic state can be one of inspiration—but also illusion. The true meaning of the card is to be your authentic self, as opposed to being your dutiful self or fulfilling a role in others expectations of you.
His case was very clearly limerance, since we had no relationship and no real contact at the time he was experiencing it. For me it was more complicated, because at the point I was experiencing it, we already had a 7-8 year history. At that point we had been intimate on multiple occasions, and he lied to me saying we were in a relationship and that he broke up with his girlfriend to be with me. Later he dropped me like a hot rock to go back to this underage girl. Real winner this guy, how I never saw the signs, I dunno.
After he broke things off with me, he still tried to encourage my feelings by sending me texts like: “you’re beautiful and constantly in my thoughts”. Or trying to poke at me on social media, message me occasionally etc. He even would come around once in a while and hang out with me or sleep with me, knowing I was infatuated and wouldn’t say no.
So my limerance was based on years of inconsistent interaction, intermittent reinforcement as they call it. The link to my article in intermittent reinforcement can be found HERE. However, the truth of it was, this person is incapable of real human emotions, but worse than that—he didn’t actually care for me at all. He used me to satisfy his own sexual desires, but mainly to stroke his ego, to feed off my energy.
I would have been able to cut ties with him years prior if it weren’t for the dreams. We did seem to share an almost psychic connection, and shared dreams in tandem on more than one occasion. He and I both experienced this, and it’s the only reason I put up with the BS for so long. It caused me to see meaning in every little interaction we had, it had me fantasizing about this great “Dracula-esque” kind of love I thought we both wanted.
The truth was, I found meaning when there wasn’t any, and in my loneliness and unhealed trauma I escaped into my fantasy world. It was safer there. Now I won’t sugar coat it, this guy was downright abusive and cruel to me. Regardless if he felt that way about me or not, he could have let me down gently and then ceased all contact instead of returning over and over trying to stir up my feelings and abandon me again.
However, hurt people—hurt people as they say. I still don’t hate him, even though I probably should. I don’t hate anyone really, it’s just not in my nature to do that. There are people I really dislike because of how they treat me or others, who I don’t want contact with, but I don’t hate them.
He wasn’t the only person I experienced this with, as I said—my first love, along with a boyfriend I broke up with in 2016. It was an old habit of mine to pine and wallow and dream of how it could all be beautiful if it weren’t for this or that. I tended to romanticize relationships after they were over. It took me years to realize what I was doing, and now that I know there is a name for it, I feel suddenly free.
I’ve been in a healthy relationship for three years now, with a partner who actually loves and cares about me. Who sees me and wants to see more. Who loves me in spite of my faults, as I do in turn. It’s my first time experiencing an equal relationship. Usually the power balance was off. In the past I dated guys who were a lot older than me, 4-18 years older on one occasion. Most of these relationships were controlling and abusive, I was just too down on myself to see it. The bittersweet ones were relationships that were simply incompatible abd crumbled apart eventually. In many situations my fear of abandonment caused me to stay in unhealthy relationships waaay too long.
The reason I am sharing my experience today, is because I hope it resonates with anyone out there experiencing this “obsessive love” for another person.
No you’re not a freak.
No you’re not stupid.
What you are is human, a human who has had a lot of trauma in their life, and is experiencing a very common phenomena among people with CPTSD or anxious attachment. It’s very common for children who were neglected emotionally, to escape into their imagination to get the support they are not getting in real life.
I likened the feeling I experienced in this limerant state, to be walking in the land of the dead. In the same way that you cannot actually experience those who have died except in your imagination … it is the same with this person you are projecting your feelings on. Nothing can grow, or truly exist, because you are walking in the land of the dead. Living in the past, sometimes a past that wasn’t even real.
Have compassion for yourself. Be gentle with your heart as it heals. Know that there are real people here on earth, in the land of the living, who want to love and experience you. There are real men and women looking for the same deep level of connection that you are seeking, but you will never meet them with your head in the clouds.
Brutal honesty with oneself is the key to breaking this spell. It will hurt at first to tell yourself the truth. Deep down, you know. You know this isn’t right. You know you shouldn’t be feeling like this. Love is not supposed to hurt. It’s a beautiful, splendid thing that lifts you up and brings out the best in you. Love is magical, and it truly is all anyone needs.
As I said before, change is hard, sitting with the reality of the situation, the cold unvarnished truth, will hurt. You will be disillusioned, and you may even experience an existential emptiness as I did, but you will heal. You will meet others who will see you, who want to know you, and love you. You’ll be surprised how quickly it happens once you start believing in and standing up for yourself.
If something feels off, it probably is, and you have always had the power inside you to leave. It was in you all along. You have the power to say: you know what? This doesn’t work for me. I deserve better treatment than this. I deserve to love and be loved in return. You have the power to walk away and never look back. With practice, you will get there.
After living in this energy for 15 years, I am living proof you can and will survive it. If I could do it, so can you.
Bright blessings, and oceans of love 💕
-Megan
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iwouldnotconsumeyou ¡ 10 months ago
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he literally said it was painful to be apart from me like why are we not seeing each other all the time then?!
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kimchicuddles ¡ 2 years ago
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psychreviews2 ¡ 7 months ago
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Cult Psychology
Cults in our midst
Cults are a complex phenomenon. When does a religion turn into a cult? How much choice do we have in joining these toxic organizations or is everything determined from cause and effect? This is a topic that excites such debate, as can be seen in Misunderstanding Cults edited by Zablocki and Robbins, but debate is needed. There are undeniable stresses that ex-cult members describe in their stories, but there are also personal deficits and susceptibilities that are exploited by these cult leaders. Cult behaviour can exist in governments, corporations, political groups, religions, psychology clinics, self-help groups and families. When people are emotionally invested in one organization or another, the need to defend arises in them, which clouds the problem. Because there is so much backlash from Cultists themselves who need to defend their own religion or belief system, I've decided to focus more on the phenomenology of Cults, instead of doing a diatribe about one particular cult or another. This way the debate between agency and determinism can be dealt with personally. By seeing how YOU are affected, because if negative relationships concern you, then you can make up your own mind based on how badly or well off you are after you complete a social transaction with a particular group.  The controversial anti-cultist Margaret Thaler Singer wrote in Cults in our midst that "I have always been interested in words: how words create mental pictures, how those pictures stir emotions and call up other ideas and feelings, and how people use words to entertain, educate, and influence one another." This is the correct strategy for me. In the end we are the ones that decide where we invest our time, money and emotions. Does it really matter if a cult is religious or secular? If the results are the same, then no.
How much are we brainwashed and how are much are we brainwashing ourselves?
Where the controversy lies is Margaret's insistence in finding a brainwashing method where cult leaders are able to control people against their will. As can be read in Cults by James R. Lewis, he lays out the history of this intellectual conflict. Margaret was an expert witness in court cases involving cults, because of her expertise with soldiers dealing with thought-reform in Korea in the 1950s. But her role as an expert for courts ended when the American Psychological Association couldn't find enough scientific rigor to backup her claims. It's possible to go too far one way or another, because there are clear patterns of manipulation that leaders use, but there are also personal attitudes that make victims a perfect target. "It takes two to tango" as the saying goes. There are many weaknesses that victims have, but the most overlooked one is that of the natural search we all have, which is to believe there is a greater happiness somewhere else than where we are. When people realize they are victimized, they have trouble letting go of their belief that they found this better happiness. The fear in having to let go of an emotional investment and start all over again is a big reason that there is resistance to change. Margaret says that "modern day cults and thought-reform groups tend to offer apparent utopias, places where all humankind's ills will be cured. The cult's lure is, if you just come along, all will be fine, and everyone will live happily ever after." The term, lure, that Margaret uses is a good one. It brings up images of fishing and applying bait to a hook. "[Cults] form around a person who claims he or she has a special mission or knowledge, which will be shared with those who turn over most of their decision making to that self-appointed leader."
Is it Choice or Momentum?
We have limited, or deterministic environments, but in most cases we can choose in those environments among at least two choices or more. As Albert Bandura pointed out in Self-efficacy, the environment acts on us but we are also a part of the environment and can act on it. To act as if the environment is the only place where there's agency creates too much dualism between the human and the environment. Even if we have limited choices throughout our upbringing, the desire to try something new is partially a choice and the brain's natural deterministic tendency to seek novelty, which can propel a person to add new experiences to their life for comparison. As people age, they've tried a lot of things and fell down some holes in the wrong direction. Many will have discovered what activities make them most happy and engaged because they had experiences to compare. Ultimately the seeking of new experiences, and the cherishing of favourite ones, is an ebb and flow that adds variety to life coming from both the deterministic and agency perspectives. Does our brain feel bored with old experiences? Does the brain feel excited by encountering new experiences? When people have a variety of experiences, can people resist novelties that are suspicious and return to safer experiences? Without bad experiences it may not be easy to detect suspicious behaviour. Agency and determinism are intertwined and any brainwashing science must advance with this understanding. Science has to progress into DNA differences between people and their emotional content when they make choices. If some people have a desperate desire to connect with others and other people can resist more easily, science would have to explain that. Why do people tolerate human rights abuses in a cult, and why do some resist it? Why do some people escape cults and others remain all of their lives? Certainly there are influences that groups can act with on an agent, but agents also have weaknesses and beliefs that respond in the wrong way. By outlining the predictable methods, hopefully the reader can detect suspicious activity faster so they can avoid exploitation in any environment.
What people are like before they join a cult
For Margaret Singer, cults don't happen only to "weak and silly people." She says that "everyone is susceptible to the lure of these master manipulators. In fact, the majority of adolescents and adults in cults come from middle-class backgrounds, are fairly well educated, and are not seriously disturbed prior to joining." Her research indicated that "approximately two-thirds of those who have joined cults came from normal, functioning families and were demonstrating age-appropriate behavior around the same time they entered a cult. Of the remaining third, only about 5 or 6 percent had major psychological difficulties prior to joining a cult. The remaining portion of the third had diagnosable depressions related to personal loss (for example, a death in the family, failure to be admitted to a preferred university or training program, or a broken romance) or were struggling with age-related sexual and career dilemmas." Margaret also describes people who are young and looking for quick solutions to problems, and the elderly who are recently widowed and lonely. Some older persons also feel the urgency to find a spiritual meaning for their lives as death approaches. The most important vulnerability is in modern life itself. "Another kind of vulnerability, or stress factor, evolves when a person, especially an adolescent or young adult, feels overwhelmed by the sheer number of choices he or she needs to make, the ambiguity of life at this age, the complexity of the world, and the amount of conflict associated with many aspects of daily life. In addition to facing pressing personal decisions, many adolescents are attempting to come to grips with their overall values, beliefs, and purposes...They commonly describe classes, teachers, and experiences that they felt destabilized their views of the world, leaving them frightened by the complexity of making seemingly endless decisions. Feeling lost and alone, they felt a need to find affiliation and some simple ways to make their lives work. Without intending to make such a choice they found themselves swept along into a group that offered simple and guaranteed paths to follow." It's not only the youth that are confused. Canadian Professor Stephen Kent talks of a cult he has studied that had in its attendance "aquarian-aged people who've grown up expecting the world to be filled with peace and happiness but have been left disappointed."
If there's a thread that groups all these people together in these examples, it is a population of people looking for purpose and meaning in their lives and can't find it in conventional ways. Economic destruction, technological complexity, broken relationships, loneliness, victimization, addictions, conflict, fear and isolation, lead to so many types of people to become primed for joining a cult. Margaret says that "being depressed and being in between important affiliations...[can make us] especially vulnerable to persuasion and suggestion because of some loss or disappointment that has caused a depressed mood or even mild to moderate clinical depression. And we're especially prone to the cults' kind of influence when we're not engaged in a meaningful personal relationship, job, educational or training program, or some other life involvement." That gap is filled by the cult which offers "an improved state of mind, an expanded state of being, and a moral, spiritual, or political state of righteous certainty." Unfortunately "that supposedly beneficial state can only be reached by following the narrowly prescribed pathways of a particular group master, guru, or trainer...The new recruit...must surrender his or her critical mind, must yield to the flow of force, must have childlike trust and faith."
Exploiting your ambition to improve the world
Since cults need money, they focus on people who already have enough resources. The main way to get money is via donations and selling courses. Cults "target employed persons with money-making skills, to whom [they] will sell 'courses,' gradually hooking these people into greater and greater commitment to the group, as well as selling them more and more expensive courses. Some of these recruits end up leaving their jobs and working for the cult to pay for courses." These courses teach how to "scientifically reduce stress in your life, how to manage your office and become a millionaire, how to get control of your life, how to live forever, how to detect if you have been abducted by space creatures, how to reach perfect enlightenment and govern the world, how to live past lives, and on and on...Offerings are worded as if the group were specifically made to benefit you. You usually do not learn the full story (and real purpose) of the cult until long after becoming embedded in the group." This is a selfish element to self-development, but not all people want to be rich and master the world. "Former cult members commonly reveal that they were looking for companionship or the chance to do something to benefit themselves and mankind. They say they were not looking for the particular cult they joined and were not intending to belong for a lifetime. Rather, they were actively and/or deceptively pressured to join, soon found themselves enmeshed in the group, were slowly cut off from their pasts and their families, and became totally dependent on the group." Margaret looks at the power hierarchy not even as a pyramid, but an inverted T ┴ where the cult leader receives the vast majority of the rewards. One can easily make fun of the symbol. It's shaped like a prick, so cultists are pricks and they "screw" you.
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Times of social change
As people are primed by a sense of lack, depression and even personality disorders, their lack distorts their perception with hunger and yearning. Perception is coloured by emotion. Like putting on glasses with a tinted colour, the vision desperately searches for THE answer. "...when segments of society cannot see where they fit in, what the rules are, or what the socially agreed-upon answers to life's big questions are, then, like a dormant disease, the ever-present potential cult leaders take hold and lure followers to their causes...These determined self-designed gurus seem always to be lurking on the sidelines ready to step in and offer answers to life's problems. They claim they have the only and sure way of life. They induce people to follow them by touting a special mission and special knowledge. The special mission is to preach the contents of a supposedly 'secret' learning, which the leaders assert can only be revealed to those who join them...Historically, we have seen that as a fabric of a society unravels, self-appointed leaders easily recruit a following. People at a loss to make sense of the mayhem around them look for direction and become more approachable and vulnerable to the manipulations and exploitations of these skilled con artists. Certainty and simple solutions for the complex problems of decision making become attractive offerings in a world that appears to be unstable and rapidly changing." Margaret lists historical events that increased the power of cults including, the fall of Rome, the French Revolution, the Industrial Revolution, European colonization, the aftermath of World War II in Japan, the 1960's rebellion in the West, and the breakup of Communist regimes.
Cult methods
Whether it's people on streets with signs, well dressed people standing next to sidewalk recruitment displays or people selling get rich quick schemes, they are offering you the answers to life. Once a possible recruit has engaged with a cult recruiter the problem is how to keep the momentum going until the recruit makes big commitments that are hard to get out of. How to keep people in cults and to have them continue giving money, time, and free labour requires a lot of misdirection as you can expect. Victims must be unaware that they are being duped. Many recruits who lost all their money and property, only became aware of their trap after they became dependent on the cult. Recruiters with no money left have to work for the cult by becoming recruiters themselves. This pattern recycles over and over again. Old cults fall only to have new ones pop up with a different mission. People who are aware of these tactics escape, and avoid them, but adults still ignorant of cults and younger generations with less experience, become the new targets. It's important to know these tactics because they can be used in any legal organization. How you get caught is believing in the front the cults use to disguise themselves, their clothing, their acting, their lifestyles, and their promises of happiness. This includes, in my experience with a door-to-door religion I shall not name, pimping out women to use sex to gain followers.
Find a front: The first step is to find a place to recruit people. Cults need a front so that people are unaware of their secret agenda to exploit people. Sidewalk displays are obvious to many people, but they still work. Many cult members try to develop successful careers to recruit people who admire them and treat them as role models. Another area is finding a big-tent mainstream religious group to target people who are disappointed with their religion and are open to join a sect or a cult. For non-religious types, a secular approach is to teach courses and rent out locations in the city. Courses include teaching public speaking, learning English as a second language, getting rich quickly with vague business ideas, learning how to buy and sell risky investments, and many other skills. As people are up-sold more courses, they eventually meet the more embedded cult members.
Change beliefs: Like with George Orwell's 1984, Cults in our Midst shows the power of language. Language can harbour a premise with a worldview. If you adopt the language, without vetting the premise, you adopt the worldview. By wanting to imitate senior role models in the organization to bolster self-esteem, the new recruit starts to speak like them and view the world in the same way. Limiting the language allowed begins to limit the thought process. This can be found even in normal society when political correctness covers up facts.
Destablize the self: Many recruits already have a compromised sense of self. They have shame, low self-esteem, and low self-efficacy. This can continue and deepen further by creating an environment of fear, powerlessness, and dependency. This is done with social conditioning. In Cults: Faith, Healing, and Coercion by Marc Galanter, he explains this relationship. "At the heart of this process lies the relationship between a pattern of social behavior and a biologically grounded motivation, or instinctive drive, that I have termed the relief effect. It operates as follows. When people become involved in a charismatic group, an inverse relationship exists between their feelings of emotional distress and the degree to which they are affiliated with that group. Individuals' capacity for commitment to the group is mediated by the relief of neurotic distress, relief that they experience on affiliation and continued membership; the closer they feel toward the group, the less distress they feel. Conversely, if they disaffiliate from the group a bit, they are prodded to return by the increased distress they are likely to feel. Thus, zealous group members feel unhappy or dysphoric when removed from their group. A committed member of Alcoholics Anonymous, for example, typically reports feelings of unease or being out of sorts when he or she misses a number of meetings...Each minor episode of reward and punishment, on moving closer to the group or further away, functions as an operant learning experience that conditions subsequent involvement. The process is indeed similar to a conditioning experiment in which an animal is rewarded each time it spontaneously carries out a particular behavior or punished for acting in a contrary way. After several such spontaneous acts and their associated consequences, the experimental animal will carry out that behaviour consistently, even when further rewards are given only [INFREQUENTLY]...Thus, by relieving neurotic distress individuals are engaged into the charismatic group and learn to comply with the behaviors it promotes..." That was a neat description of intermittent reinforcement, where positive rewards are loaded at the beginning of the relationship which becomes a lure to make victims tolerate ever more abusive behaviour with the promise that the positive rewards will return.
Confession: The bond is furthered with confessions. By giving personal information about indiscretions, no matter now small and trifling, it's used against the person to make them feel even more inferior and dependent on the new system to bring the recruit out of wretchedness. This is precisely how an authority figure can be put inside of your mind, just like a parent. The mind self-polices and represses healthy defense mechanisms, critical thinking, and normal human desires. This can be seen in my review of Daniel Paul Schreber and the book Soul Murder. This kind of conditioning helps to foster Stockholm Syndrome where victims identify with the abuser, because the abuser has personal information they can blackmail the victim with. Leaders also create a lot of paranoia. They look omnipresent and have other recruits who can stalk for them. For many victims, the only person who can relieve the stress is the leader who can choose to relax these threats, so they choose to support them in their activities in order to gain relief.
"Self" development: Once the "bad self" is exposed for the pathetic, disgusting, perverted, incapable wretch that he or she is, then the only group that can help them is the cult. Purchasing ever more expensive courses, because each course is never enough, leads to financial dependence. Slave labour for little or no pay prevent escape from those who have no money left or job. All the prior conditioning forces isolation from family, friends and normal jobs. The courses themselves also create lots of damage because the person is now so dependent on the leaders that the feeling of teaching and learning on one's own is replaced with a learned helplessness and codependency. Any decisions made on one's own feel risky and require validation from the cult to develop confidence. The irony is that, like with tarot cards, the answers that people find in these courses are actually self-created. We fill in the gaps, including filling in the empathy the leader is missing. The courses themselves are so general and lack details, they are next to useless. In an article I read on a Canadian Christian cult, one follower describes her leader's speeches. "Have you ever taken acid?...That's what it's like when you hear [Him]. You listen and then suddenly something snaps and you get it." That snap is explained by Stephen Kent. "They expect a guru up there pontificating—but he doesn't say much. If you look at the message, there's not a lot of substance to it. Many of the people are widely read in spirituality issues. They fill in the absence of the thoughts with their own knowledge and hopes and aspirations. So they give [him] meaning that he himself may not even realize." One can find better information at a library for free than what are found in so many of these courses. Instead of self-development, it's more like regression where one can only survive and make decisions with permission from the group. The independent mind is gone. Then when there are needs for self-protection, the victim falls back and tolerates weakening themselves to prop up the group's activities. Marc says, "when one joins a charismatic group, one gives up the opportunity for independent decision making and complies with the group's norms, which may conflict with one's own adaptive needs."
Plant and Krauss - The Fortune Teller: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s5DeIcYD6xE
Feedback: Cults gain more power over the agency of others by learning from feedback. As members come and go, certain tactics will seem to be more effective than others and can be repeated. One of the typical tactics is to focus only on positive feedback within the group, and to minimize focus on negative feedback. This includes scandals within the organization that are kept secret from newer and more skeptical members. Remember, the cult leader is in it for the goodies that all psychopaths and narcissists want. They want consumption, easy sex, sadism, and the pleasure of duping people. They are constantly bored and need stimulus. Eventually you have layers of people who are more "in the know" than others, controlling the morale of the group. This dance continues as negative feedback about the outside world is emphasized as well as positive feedback related to being part of this significant group. Good results for the cult lead to members applying self-censorship of negative feedback so that they can independently recruit others from the rest of the world and persuade them to stay using their own zeal. As individuals move up the hierarchy, some naturally don't believe in the system, but only what they can gain from it. Others continue believing all the way up the leadership and can be counted on by the cult leader to follow their orders, no matter how insane.
Daniel Paul Schreber: https://rumble.com/v1gu84v-case-studies-daniel-paul-schreber-freud-and-beyond.html
Stalking: https://rumble.com/v1gvhk1-stalking-world-narcissistic-abuse-awareness-day.html
Saints and Psychopaths: https://rumble.com/v1gosbb-saints-and-psychopaths-by-william-l.-hamilton.html
The Empathy Trap: Understanding Anti-social personalities - Jane and Time McGregor: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9781847092779/
1984 - George Orwell: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780451524935/
Deprogramming
Margaret talks at the end of her book about what happens to victims who escape. Ex-cultists often aid counsellors by showing escapees a new way of living without the cult. Providing evidence of the leader's vices and misdeeds provides sobering realizations and a counter to all the conditioning and idol worshiping. Many have relationships that need mending and defensiveness over being manipulated by a cult has to be let go of. The conditioned trance-like states that were sustained for so long can continue for years, but they fade over time. In a safe environment, thoughts about what the leader will say or do if you exercise your freedom, that caused so many stressful thoughts about the future, fade away when there's no cult to reinforce them. Relief!
The big consequence of being in a cult for so long is that people didn't develop themselves during that time with the real skills that they needed. When they leave a cult, they have a lot of re-skilling to do. The real self-development. New technologies and methods used in the workplace have to be adopted. Some employers are understanding and others are not. It's not easy to explain gaps in your resume in an interview by saying that you worked for a cult for 11 years. Honesty and communicating lessons that were learned, is the only way to gain back trust from others in the outside world. Dating also becomes difficult for the same reason. Is the ex-cultist trustworthy? Are they mentally ill? More hits to the self-esteem happen, but the lesson is learned because a free life can now be compared to the cult life. There's no confusion on which is life is better. The victim learns to see where they gave their power away and takes on all those responsibilities themselves. The reward is learning to enjoy one's own company, trust one's own decision making skills, and to benefit from those choices. It's real feedback that is not filtered through the distorted mind of a personality disordered cult leader. The best way to deprogram from my point of view is to look at the world as a place full of promises. Sometimes the actual product or experience surpasses the promises, which is fantastic. Much more often promises fail. Ask the question: "Does the promise point to a place, person or thing that gives you more mental peace and nourishing love?" The answer will be NO in most situations. Eventually you go back to your old hobbies that you used to enjoy. Relationships are realistic and based on skills, and in fact you find that you only go into Flow states when you are engaging in activities where you have skill. Developing skills at the beginning is the stressful setup, but enjoying the skills afterwards is the payoff. When you realize that you control more of your happiness than people promising you something, you'll never want to give that power away again. The healthy feeling is being a person that enjoys doing things themselves. People are always looking for projects to relieve boredom. Why give decisions and credit to other people when you can do it yourself?
How cults remember you
Ex-cultists now become outsiders. Cult leaders often have derogatory terms for their "enemies" and it's all based on how the mind can objectify people. Followers are essentially uses and tools to gratify the leader. Their care is only based on how useful you are to them. Since that's all that's important for the leader then that's all they'll remember of you. I'm reminded of a meme I saw that someone posted on Facebook to describe how Narcissists see you. It replaces the word LOVE with USE. "I use you!" "I will always use you!" "You are the greatest use of my life!" Senior members in the cult are not in an envious position. They are still draining their limited life span with parasites. The game for the cult leaders is to get enough money so that they can enjoy their lavish lifestyles long enough to retire to a warm climate and fade into anonymity. Victims often think of Karma and all the bad things that will happen to those people, but this is also an illusion. Our happiness cannot be dependent on what happens to them. Many will meet Karma and others will not. One thing is for sure. The cult leader knows what they are and because of that they can't trust anyone else. Their life is chasing higher mental states making them addicted to externalities. As these people age, they will have to suffer withdrawal symptoms every time they have to give something up as they move closer to natural death. The worst legacy they leave behind is an illusory template of happiness that new generations will imitate.
Cults in Our Midst: The Continuing Fight Against Their Hidden Menace - Margaret Thaler Singer: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780787967413/
Cults: A Reference Handbook - James R. Lewis: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9781851096183/
Misunderstanding Cults: Searching for Objectivity in a Controversial Field - Editor-Benjamin Zablocki, Editor-Thomas Robbins: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780802081889/
Cults: Faith, Healing and Coercion - Marc Galanter: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780195123692/
Self-efficacy: the exercise of control - Albert Bandura: Paperback: https://www.isbns.net/isbn/9780716728504/
The Canadian Man Who Commands a Cult with His Gaze - Stephen A. Kent: https://www.vice.com/en_ca/article/xd5eqz/inside-a-canadian-staring-cult-224
Out of the FOG - Intermittent Reinforcement: https://outofthefog.website/what-not-to-do-1/2015/12/3/intermittent-reinforcement
Psychology: http://psychreviews.org/category/psychology01/
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eighthdoctor ¡ 9 months ago
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this again but it's 1 comment reply per 1 email
0/8
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thewalrus-said ¡ 2 years ago
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.
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iceprincessza ¡ 3 months ago
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what is a situationship? never EVER put me in a situation. blocked.
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bronzetomatoes ¡ 1 year ago
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It's normally a horrible idea for me to pull all nighters and I've done it maybe twice since eighth grade but 1) I knew 2 hours ago I was not gonna fall asleep to this, 2) it's nearly 5am anyway, and 3) it's a Saturday in the middle of summer vacation and it's gonna storm heavily all day. What the fuck am I gonna do that I'll need to be well rested for, read and watch anime?
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iwouldnotconsumeyou ¡ 1 year ago
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pro: I held his hand for the whole film (2 hours!!)
con: I came on to him too strong after and he told me he's not interested (why did he hold my hand you might ask? I don't know! nothing makes any sense)
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drgrlfriend ¡ 1 year ago
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Comments versus Bookmarks on AO3
A few people seemed appreciative of my post about how to use AO3's Marked for Later feature, so I thought I'd follow up with another tip about comments versus bookmarks. As part of the amazing @justleaveacommentfest I noticed a few people mentioned leaving nice comments in bookmarks, and I thought it might help to have a little info about how comments are different from bookmarks, and why it's better to send a comment if you want to make an author happy or make fandom friends or have an interesting discussion.
Bookmarks *are* viewable by everyone, unless you make them private. If you plan to say anything negative in your bookmark, please make it private. It's not really the flip side, however, that leaving positive statements in your bookmarks will reach the author, though.
Most authors are alerted when they get new comments, either through their dashboard or via email if they choose, or both. Yay! Serotonin boost, and also the ability to reply back and start a conversation! Plus, readers can have great discussions with each *other* in the comments section of a fic! If you're super into a fic you can read comments on the chapter even years later, and sometimes find the author adding additional thoughts or discussing their thought process while writing! It's like DVD extras for fanfic! (Do kids these days know what DVD extras are any more? Damned if I know).
You don't really know, as an author, when someone bookmarks one of your fics. Some authors, particularly when they are feeling low (cough cough) may also look at bookmarks to see if there are nice things there. This would basically just involve clicking on the bookmarks for each of your fics individually to see if there's anything a.) new and b.) nice in them.
This is an act of desperation. It's not really a wise thing to do, as 99% of bookmarks have no comments, or just list the title and author in fear of the fic being deleted some day and not knowing what you're missing. Even worse, if you, as an author, get desperate enough to cruise your bookmarks, you are as likely to see someone say something like "Meh" or "This got boring so I stopped reading at Chapter 5" or "Too many werewolves 3/10" in a werewolf fic than you are to see a nice compliment.
So, if you loved a fic and want to memorialize your love in a bookmark, be an extra super-duper sweetheart and cut and paste that into a comment for the author! Make the AO3 environment enriching for both authors and fellow readers in the comments section, and protect your friendly local author by not providing intermittent positive reinforcement for the negative behavior of scrolling through bookmarks!
I still recommend bookmarking fics. Bookmark those favorite fics you want to come back and read later, or use bookmarks to leave yourself little reminders if they are nice or in private bookmarks if they are not nice. Bookmark good resources, like how to code things in html or how to use AO3 filters most effectively. Find awesome new things to read by looking through the bookmarks of your favorite authors, because if you vibe with someone's writing you may also vibe with their favorite fics to read!
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mysicklove ¡ 1 year ago
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Opinion on whimpering men vs men who don't whimper ever but then one time it slips out?
well, according to the theory of intermittent reinforcement (interval schedule) 🤓👆 it is known that positive reinforcement (whimpering) will be more rewarding when it only occurs after a certain amount of time, and thus motivating the subject (me) to continue on this behavior (torturing a man)
so yeah kinda purr, putting in all that effort and finally having them make a noise bc it is so pleasurable that they can’t help it?? i’m a goner
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dindjarindiaries ¡ 4 months ago
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Senator's Shadow - Chapter 9
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summary: Hunter and the squad do their best to reinforce you as you aim to end the crisis on Eirus once and for all.
pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x fem!reader
rating: mature (18+)
tags: bodyguard romance, forbidden love, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, trauma, eventual/mild smut
word count: 6.912k
chapter 8 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 10 (epilogue)
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chapter 9 ⟹
Hunter was holding his breath from the moment you had stolen it. His eyes followed you until you disappeared from sight, his chest burning from both the lack of air and his effort to let you go rather than keep you close. He would have gladly surrendered himself with you, but you needed him elsewhere. That was enough.
That would have to be enough.
Wrecker cleared his throat louder than he had to. The sound brought Hunter back to the present, and he snapped his head around to face the squad. They were all staring at him through their helmets, frozen in place in a way Hunter had never seen before.
Despite the severity of the moment, Hunter couldn’t help chuckling to himself. He smirked as he set his helmet back in place and raised his brow at his brothers. “Don’t tell me you’ve all gotten shy, boys.”
They all slowly began to shift around. Tech was bold enough to attempt words first. “We… simply had yet to observe such an affectionate gesture.” He glanced down at his datapad, avoiding eye contact. “Between you two, that is.”
Hunter’s visor looked pointedly around the group. When no one else spoke, he chuckled again. “Clearly, we haven’t spent enough time at Seventy-Nines.”
He let the amusement fade from his tone as he straightened shoulders. You were on your way down to some unknown fate, and here he was, cracking jokes.
“Come on. We have our orders.” Hunter pointed to his left, and the boys’ right. “Wrecker, Tech, you take this side.” He did the same with the other side. “Crosshair, Echo, you go the other way.” He drew his blaster and nodded. “We need to make sure we’re surrounding this courtyard at every possible angle, so keep yourselves spread out.”
“Are we staying up high?” Echo asked, his blaster also drawn.
“Affirmative. We have the high ground, and we need to keep it.”
Wrecker groaned, but Tech was nudging him back towards the stone railing before he could make any other kind of protest. Hunter turned to Crosshair for a quick moment. “Position yourself somewhere with a good shot at anyone who approaches the senator.”
Crosshair nodded and turned to follow Echo, who had already leapt from the outpost’s roof and swung down. Hunter waited until all of his brothers were safely on their way to steady himself with a breath and approach the railing that separated him from the courtyard.
He slowly stood from his crouch, giving himself just enough height to see between the intermittently raised pillars of the railing and view the courtyard. The chaos below had already fizzled out, and the first thing he observed was that the fighters had stopped shooting to concentrate their fire on one specific target.
You. Hands raised, mask and hood both lowered, moving from the safe shadows of the outpost to the exposed light.
Hunter tightened his grasp on his blaster.
“There’s no need for fighting.” Your voice was so calm yet authoritative that it instinctively made Hunter want to obey the gentle order. It was a wonder how just minutes ago, you were trembling in his grasp during your desperate kiss. “I’m here now. Let’s talk this through.”
“At last.” A new voice spoke as soon as you had finished. Hunter was even more alert at once, and he sensed the powerful march of the man’s boots before he had even walked into the light. “We’ve been waiting for you, Senator.”
And there it was, the face he had spent this entire mission memorizing and dreading: Lii Alvani.
Hunter busied his rageful hand with the task of pressing down his comm. “Alvani’s here. Crosshair, your aim needs to be on him at all times.”
“Understood.” Even Crosshair’s cool tone sounded more focused than usual, as if he was suppressing the same amount of rage as Hunter.
You continued on without a single waver in your voice. “I had a feeling you’d be here.”
Alvani opened his arms. “As did I.” He had a sinister grin that Hunter wanted to punch off of his twisted face, but he kept holding on to the self control he had learned so long ago. “It was bold of you, Senator, to leave the capitol. And without any reinforcements!”
You remained unshaken. Warm pride bloomed within Hunter’s chest, despite the circumstances. “I spent many years fighting against you, Alvani, and my people and I emerged victorious. I knew that I could do it again.”
Alvani bowed his head. “This is true.” He lifted a finger. “Aside from a few key details. Your people are mine, now. But even then…” he chuckled, “you are not alone.” Alvani waved a hand at some of the fighters to his left. “Look for the clones.”
The fighters entered the outpost first, no doubt following your own trail. Hunter cursed and turned around to set his back against the stone, allowing himself to face the steps as he prepared to hide from the incoming patrol.
While he waited, Hunter turned his head to scour the nearby rooftops. The squad was blending into the night thanks to the dark ponchos that concealed them. He lifted his hand to his helmet. “Not sure if you’ve all heard, but Alvani’s looking for us. Stay alert, stay low, and stay quiet.”
“Copy that, Sarge,” Wrecker attempted his best whisper.
Hunter continued to listen to you and Alvani even as he attuned his senses to the incoming group of fighters. “The lies have already begun.” Alvani scoffed. “And some of you still trust her? Some of you think that she, and her supposed government, truly care about you?”
Hunter’s blood ran so hot that it started to prickle his skin. Even the rain that had started to fall steadily couldn’t have cooled him down if his skin was vulnerable to it. He was forced to move past the feeling when he heard the echoes of the patrol’s step, signaling him to push himself forward and hide amongst the shadows around the corner.
“These are not my troops opening fire on civilian villages, Alvani. Who do you think thwarted your last attack?”
Alvani laughed. “My attack? Senator, please. These riots have nothing to do with me.”
Hunter bit back a scoff of his own, his blaster raised as he slowly backed away from where the patrol had just emerged. They split up, causing Hunter to reach over his shoulder for the spare line in his pack and dart towards the center of the outpost’s roof.
Your patience was thinning, and Hunter could hear it. “And the fighters who are currently under your command?”
Hunter attached one end of the line to his belt and the other to the small spires of the inner railing. Once it was secure, he leapt over the edge, keeping himself pressed against the stone wall just above the transparisteel barrier. The quickening rainfall pattered against the fragile material, which would have made it hard for anyone without his heightened senses to hear the ongoing conversation.
The sound of Alvani’s voice was still grating, even at this distance. “They’re protecting the people, clearly.”
“From who?”
“You. And your supposed Republic.”
You let out a curt laugh. Hunter tensed as he watched the shadows of the patrol search the perimeter of the rooftop. “Is that the narrative you’re going with, Alvani? That’s ridiculously untrue and low, even for you.”
“Is it?” Hunter’s free hand tightened into a fist as he leaned his helmet against the slickened stone. The urge to launch himself back up and fight was getting harder to ignore. “The people of Eirus have been going without proper resources for many standard months.”
“Because what the Republic and I have been requesting for our people hasn’t been implemented. That’s why I have returned. Instead, I have found that Eirus’ elected officials are debating an alliance with Count Dooku for a deal that would strip this planet of its resources in a detrimental way.” You paused, and Hunter ached at the rising desperate tension in your voice. “I presume it was your idea, Alvani.”
“It’s clear up here,” one of the fighters on the rooftop reported. “We’ll descend and begin searching the outer perimeter. You two, stay up here.” Hunter grinned to himself. Finally, a way for him to take out his anger.
“The count offered me refuge when my homeworld turned its back on me. Now, I’ve come back to return the favor. His Confederacy can help Eirus to flourish once again as the droid factories boost our workforce.”
Hunter waited until the footsteps descended the staircase to pull himself back up the line. He gritted his teeth both at the physical effort and at Alvani’s blatant lies.
You sounded just as unconvinced. “Either you truly believe his lies, Alvani, or you’re deliberately using the same ones.”
“You’ll hear no lies from me, Senator. If only your people could expect the same from you.”
Hunter channeled his red-hot energy into battle as he swung himself over the railing and disconnected the line. His alert senses told him exactly where he could find the first fighter. Hunter lifted his arm and wrapped it around the human’s throat, squeezing it tighter and tighter as he continued to listen to what was happening in the courtyard.
“I do not, and will not, lie—especially not to my people. I can wholeheartedly admit that the Republic isn’t perfect, because as you have so graciously pointed out, even they have not yet provided for Eirus the way they should.”
The deadweight of the fighter began to fall upon Hunter as unconsciousness overtook him. Hunter eased his body down to the ground and moved ahead, seeking the second soldier in the shadows as you spoke.
“But they also have yet to take advantage of Eirus during this war. If the count establishes his droid factories here, then that will be bringing this war to our home permanently. Do we, a peaceful planet, really intend on forever tying ourselves to the production of these droids who have been targeting innocent civilians all across the galaxy?”
Hunter found the second guard and swung out his leg at the back of the Weequay’s knee to trip him. He knocked the fighter’s comlink away while he still had the advantage and kept him on his knees, yet again pulling his arm tight around the soldier’s throat.
“A peaceful planet being represented by a senator who’s arrived here in combat gear?” Alvani laughed. “Who earned her place by fighting her way there?”
Hunter took cruel pleasure in the ceasing of the Weequay’s breath.
“Being a senator was never my choice.” Your voice had gone calm again. “It was our people’s. I’m only fulfilling my duty at the request of the people of Eirus.”
“Perhaps it’s time for new leadership, then.”
Hunter was finally able to return to his previous place, his blaster raised again as he watched you and Alvani through the railing’s small spires. The downpour made it harder to see, but it seemed you were paying no mind to it as you faced Alvani with your hands held out by your sides in constant, peaceful surrender.
You nodded as you responded to him. “Perhaps it is.” You then shook your head. “But not under Count Dooku. He may have deceived you and all our elected officials, Alvani, or perhaps you’re taking part in his deception, but his intentions are cruel. He cares nothing about our planet, nor our people.”
Your focus went to the people who had started to surround the courtyard, from Alvani’s stationed fighters to the villagers who had dared to leave their homes.
“I learned a terrible truth before I came here. I discovered these supposed ‘riots’ have actually been orchestrated by the count and his forces to manipulate Eirus into accepting his offer for protection.”
A hushed gasp went around the crowd. Hunter saw the corners of Alvani’s mouth twitch downwards, though he otherwise held onto his smug expression.
“I don’t believe all of these fighters know this truth, because…” you paused, a new pain evident in your tone, “many of them are the same forces I fought alongside when we freed the planet from this man’s rule.”
Hunter watched as some of the fighters surrounding you started to lower their blasters, but they weren’t yet fully committed to abandoning them.
“I have gone undercover with my clone protectors on this occasion and one other to try to change the outcome of these attacks. We were only able to save one village. My home village being targeted and attacked just after that effort is not a coincidence.”
You paused again, and Alvani still didn’t say anything. Hunter’s brow furrowed as you took the opportunity to go on.
“I understand that Eirus has been through a lot. I was on the front lines for much of it. When I went to Coruscant, my mission continued, but there was a disconnect. Your officials, myself included, have failed you, and I cannot fully express how sorry I am for that.
“But I want to make things better. I don’t want to bring the war here. We have all fought and suffered enough. I propose that we re-elect brand-new officials on every level, including senatorial.” Hunter’s brow shot up. “Give the Republic one more chance to maintain the peace we have long since been seeking. Just as they sent the clone protectors here with me, they can protect us as a planet, but will do no further. Not unless we request it.”
Your words were met with stunned silence. Hunter looked around and watched the faces of your people, especially the villagers, soften at the sight of you. He smiled to himself. You were finally winning them over.
Then Alvani spoke. “What a well-crafted collection of deceit you have made, Senator. Truly, I commend you.” He shook his head. “But such lies cannot stand without evidence to prove them true. Can you at least provide your people with that, if you cannot provide them with the resources they need to live?”
Hunter watched you closely, and what he caught was the calculated way your focus went up and around at the surrounding structures. You were looking for something, or someone.
The signal.
Hunter lifted his hand to his helmet. “That’s the signal, boys. Time to join the party. Tech, have your datapad ready. Crosshair, stay where you are with a shot on Alvani.”
Crosshair’s tone was as cool as usual. “I copy.”
Hunter wasn’t waiting around for the others. He swung out over the edge of the roof and traded his blaster for his blade, digging it into the mortar of the outpost’s bricks to slow his descent. Once he was at a safe enough range, he let go and let himself fall, tucking and rolling once he landed.
The fighters had reinforced their grips on their blasters, but Hunter put away all of his weapons as he stood. He lowered the hood of his poncho and made his way to your side. Alvani’s eyes had widened as he made his approach, but once he was next to you, Hunter’s visor was only concerned with you. There wasn’t much you were giving away, even if Hunter could still see the sweet light of relief in your eyes. He nodded at you before facing Alvani again.
“Heard you’re looking for some evidence.” Hunter crossed his arms as he spoke.
Alvani gave him an incredulous once-over. “And what gives you such authority?”
Hunter lifted his hands to his helmet and removed it, exposing himself to the downpour in favor of staring down Alvani with his own eyes. “I’m the sergeant whose squad has been investigating and combating your attacks.” Hunter tucked his helmet under his arm and shrugged. “May not give me credibility in your eyes, but you can take that up with the Republic.”
Alvani scoffed. “And where is this ‘squad’ you speak of?”
“Right here.” Wrecker’s booming voice made Alvani jump as it appeared from behind him. Wrecker followed Hunter’s lead in having his weapons put away as he held his hands into fists and walked to your other side. “If you have any complaints, you can take ‘em up with me.”
“I wouldn’t risk that if I were you, sir,” Echo warned as he walked up from the shadows. He gestured with his helmet to Wrecker. “He’s not as lenient as the rest of the Republic.”
“Technically, we are supposed to be subject to the rules of command.” Tech held up his finger as he joined the rest of the group, though his focus was on the datapad in his other hand. “We, however, are not obligated to follow those because of our exceptional success rate.”
Once Tech was standing at Hunter’s other side, Alvani looked upon the squad with utter shock. His stare then found yours as he let out a laugh of disbelief. “Are these your aforementioned ‘clone protectors,’ Senator? Really?”
Hunter looked over at you, and your gaze met his as you smiled and nodded. “This is an elite clone squad, Alvani.” You peeled your stare from Hunter to face Alvani once again. “Underestimating them would be unwise.”
“We have the requested evidence.” Tech didn’t give Alvani a single second to speak. For once, Hunter was grateful for it. “Here, I have numerous communication recordings, coordinates of your whereabouts following Eirus’ previous crisis, and confirmed visuals of allies you worked with before being present on-world currently.” Tech looked up from his datapad. “Is that sufficient?”
The murmurs of the surrounding crowd became louder at that. Hunter heard your relieved exhale at his side, and he let it relax him further. The tide had shifted; you had the advantage. Your gamble had paid off.
You spoke into the silence when Alvani failed to. “Your deceptions are over, Alvani. It’s finally time for the people of Eirus to choose their own fate.”
You earned a few enthusiastic shouts at that. Hunter looked around and watched the fighters glance at one another before dropping their weapons to the ground. The corners of his lips started to turn up in a smile, one that only grew the moment he looked at you.
But Alvani sighed, and it wasn’t a defeated sound. “I had a feeling it would come to this.” Hunter’s attention snapped back to Alvani as he lifted his wrist to his lips. “Prime Minister, would you like to do the honors?”
It was then that Hunter sensed a frequency so strong it almost made him wince. Once he got a firmer grasp on it, he realized how familiar it was; too familiar. He lowered himself to the ground to make sure of it, no matter how confident he was in his own abilities. He splayed his palm over the muddy soil.
Your voice was strained with newfound worry. “What is it?”
Hunter put his helmet on and drew his blaster. “You need to get the civilians to safety.” He then spoke to his squad, who was already following the sergeant’s lead in grabbing their weapons. “Lads, we’re about to have some company.”
Echo took a step closer to Hunter. “What kind of company?”
Hunter lifted his blaster to his shoulder. “Clankers.”
Wrecker let out a cheer. “Oh, yeah! Finally!” Hunter took pleasure in the way Alvani’s expression twisted at Wrecker’s excitement.
“Droids?” Your panic was breathless. Hunter turned to face you fully. “How many?”
Hunter set his free hand on your shoulder. “Enough for us to handle.” He gave you a gentle squeeze. “We’ll take care of them. Have the fighters guard any gathered citizens inside the outpost.”
Your gaze gave him a once-over, your brow furrowed. You ultimately exhaled a light breath and nodded, setting your jaw. Hunter wished he could do more to comfort you, but with such an audience, it simply wasn’t safe. Your eyes flashed with sweet understanding before you stepped away and raised your voice.
“Everyone, inside the outpost! Now!”
Thankfully, the fighters had fully pledged their allegiance to you, and they obeyed your order without hesitation. They picked up their blasters and started directing the gathered citizens to the outpost, but you weren’t going with them. Hunter tilted his helmet when your stare found his visor again, and your smile and shrug said it all.
You had told them long ago that you would be on the front lines of this conflict, and that wouldn’t stop now.
But his senses were slammed by the awakening of the battle droids, and it would only be a matter of moments until they would start to open fire. Hunter was ready to warn you until he sensed an alarming movement much closer than the droids were. You weren’t the only one who had mastered the craft of a hidden holster.
Hunter reached for his knife and threw it without a second thought. The golden blade whizzed through the air and struck Alvani’s blaster just before he could pull the trigger on you. Hunter focused on aiming his own blaster, but it wasn’t his weapon that dealt the blow.
One blue circle of light from Crosshair’s perch was all it took to put Alvani out of commission, and his body hit the mud as soon as the droids who had been hiding in the darkness began to open fire.
Hunter positioned himself in front of you and fired his blaster into the fray. “Wrecker, get Alvani inside the outpost!”
Wrecker was quick to obey the order, allowing Hunter to focus on their surroundings. They needed cover, but they couldn’t afford to be pinned inside the outpost with everyone else. They were going to have to split up and use the infrastructure to their advantage.
Hunter spoke into his comm, regardless of the fact Echo and Tech were right beside him. “We’re splitting up again. We’ll stay in our original pairs. Wrecker, you’ll rendezvous with Crosshair’s position whenever you’re done with Alvani. Crosshair, stay where you are and watch our backs.”
“With pleasure,” Crosshair assured him.
“I… copy… Sarge!” Wrecker was breathing heavily from his run.
Hunter looked at Echo and Tech, directing them to the right with his blaster. They nodded and began to split off, which left you and Hunter to head to the left. He continued to shield you and fire at the droids until you had proper cover.
Taking shelter inside a tight alleyway with time to spare, Hunter kept you safe between himself and the wall that was at your back. His free hand removed his helmet while the hand with his blaster carefully wrapped around the back of your neck to bring your mouth to his.
You didn’t resist, at least not at first. You melted against him as easily as the rain trickled over your faces and his armor, and for a moment, you fisted the material of his poncho to pull him even closer. But then you flattened your palms against his armored chest and parted your lips from his, your brow furrowed as you sought an explanation.
Hunter pressed his wet forehead against yours. “You’re okay.” He exhaled his sigh of relief against your brow as he kissed it. “And you did it.”
You smiled at him, and though his breathless admiration and affection was reflected in your gaze, you were still able to quirk up an eyebrow. “Of course I did.”
Hunter huffed before he kissed you again. He needed this reassurance, and given how eager you were to match each desperate stroke, you did, too. Hunter could still spare a few words. “Giving up your senatorial seat, huh?”
You pulled away, your arms now wrapped around his neck, and gestured with your head to the alleyway’s opening. “Surely we can find a better time to talk about that.”
Hunter chuckled, his lips spreading wide in a fond, confident smirk. “I wouldn’t worry if I were you. I could fight clankers in my sleep.”
You gave him a dizzying once-over. “I’m sure you could.” You kissed his cheek that time. “So why don’t you show me?”
Hunter hummed and lifted his helmet once again, setting it over his head before nodding. “Finally.”
He had to agree with Wrecker’s earlier sentiment: he had missed this, the rush of battle, the thrill of doing what he and his brothers had quite literally been made for. There was still a lot to sort out, but now that you were okay and you had accomplished what you set out to do, Hunter was finally free to let himself loose again.
His squad was always showing off, but now, he had an even more important audience to show off for.
“So,” your voice had returned to a more tactical tone, “what’s the plan?”
Hunter holstered his blaster and took up the knife he had retrieved from the mud. He tilted his helmet at you. “Try to keep up.”
With that, he darted towards the alleyway’s opening, going right back to all the action. Cover had been important, yes, but only as a means of regrouping. Now, Hunter could weave himself in-and-out of all the gaps between buildings to avoid fire if he had to, all while pursuing these droids as if it was just another day’s work.
In a way, it was, though you had made this mission feel anything but ordinary.
Hunter didn’t have to consume himself with your wellbeing because of his confidence in both his own actions and yours, even if he did glance back to make sure you were still close. You already fit in nicely with his technique, acting as a defensive line of cover while Hunter pursued his assault with his blade.
He dodged, dove, flipped, and sliced, using his senses to find each target and confirm each kill. You were always there at the edges, illuminating them with a warmth that rivaled the chill of the rain seeping beneath his armor. He could hear the familiar jolts of Crosshair’s rifle firing shots from his perch, and at one point, he heard Wrecker’s yells as he finally plowed through to get to Crosshair’s position.
Everything was just as it should be. And to think that at the end of it all, there was even a chance for your place with them to be permanent, should you want to take it.
Hunter had his blade deep in a droid’s skull when his comm went off. “They really didn’t bother sending their best here,” Echo commented.
“Which was a wise course of action,” Tech chimed in. “This is the final chance they are giving Eirus. It would be a waste of resources to send their most refined droids to a planet they do not even know if they will have.”
“That would explain why there’s only one wave.” Crosshair huffed, though the noise was mostly static through the comms. “We’ve nearly fought through all their forces.”
“Already?” Wrecker was disappointed. “Aw, man! I just got here!”
“We’ll be back in the field before you know it, Wrecker.” Hunter paused as he sliced through a droid on his left and then swung around to stab the neck of one on his right. You blasted down a droid just behind him, and he nodded in your direction to thank you. “Just have fun while you can.”
Your voice rose above the sounds of battle to speak to him. “I quite like your squad’s idea of ‘fun,’ Sergeant.”
Hunter let out a soft laugh and glanced at you over his shoulder. “You’re a natural, Senator.”
Hunter had chased another kind of pleasant adrenaline with you before, but he had to agree: this was just pure fun.
It wasn’t long before the rest of the boys were back in Hunter’s sights. The droids’ numbers were dwindling fast, and the squad’s restlessness during the course of this mission had much to do with it, no doubt. They were all itching to be back on the battlefield again, and that meant these droids never stood a chance. Hunter honestly felt a bit of pity for them.
Then he remembered why they were sent here, and that softer feeling faded fast.
When there was only one left, Hunter held up his men and let you do the honors. He tossed up his blade and you caught it just as you holstered your blaster, continuing your movement to bury it down to the hilt inside the droid’s wired neck. You retracted the knife only when the droid collapsed, bringing an end to the conflict.
“Ha-ha! Yeah!” Wrecker lunged forward to give you a high-five. Hunter crossed his arms and shook his head, despite the fact he was beaming underneath his helmet. He glanced over at Tech, who was already tapping away on his datapad.
Hunter’s brow rose. “Reinforcements?”
Tech’s gaze flickered up at him. “Negative. Just as I said before, the Separatists have no interest in a planet that cannot promise its resources any longer. This was, indeed, their final chance.”
Hunter’s focus returned to you when you handed him his blade. He took it, his fingers brushing yours, and sheathed it. Your gaze was relieved as it bore through his visor, but it was also exhausted, vulnerable to him in a way that made his chest tight. When you were at his side, he held a hand upon your back, and you leaned your head against his armored shoulder.
“Awww,” Wrecker cooed.
Crosshair nudged him with his shoulder. “Grow up, Wrecker.” Hunter huffed.
“So,” Echo gestured to the open stretch of ground littered in droid parts, “that’s it, Senator?”
You lifted your head from Hunter to nod. “It is.” Your stare scanned the group, a fond smile stretching across your lips. “I can’t thank you all enough for your tireless effort to help me see this through.” You let out a soft laugh. “Especially seeing how much you’ve had to hold back this entire time.”
Wrecker rolled his neck. “That’s not even the half of it!”
You beamed at him. “I’m sure.” You let out a slow and steady exhale. “Now… well, the Prime Minister’s involvement is troubling, but not entirely unpredictable.” You glanced up at Hunter. “It makes me glad I promised to re-elect every position.”
“Are you really gonna give up yours, Senator?” Echo’s hand was on his hip, now.
You bowed your head. “If that’s what my people want. Whatever it takes to maintain this peace and give the Republic another chance.”
Crosshair shifted his weight to one hip as he kept his arms crossed. “And if you do give up your seat?”
You shrugged, unable to resist a smile as your stare met Hunter’s through his visor. “Then I guess I’ll have to find another way to serve the Republic.”
Hunter tilted his helmet, as if he actually had to consider your words. “I’m sure something can be arranged.” His hand gave your back a few gentle pats. “But first, we have to wrap this up.”
Your gaze flickered low as you nodded. “And you have to get back to the battlefield, now that this mission is over.”
Hunter returned your nod. “We should at least stick around until all the Separatists’ allies are gone. Only then can we really guarantee your safety.”
Your stare simply lingered in his. It would buy you both a little more time until you had to separate, if only for a little while—that is, if your people even wanted to choose someone new as their senatorial representative. It surely seemed like you had won them over again. That left you with maybe one or two more nights together.
Hunter wasn’t even sure how much time you could spend together tonight. There was so much left to do, but seeing you drenched by the downpour and splashed by mud made him want to do nothing except help you wash with warm water and hold you until the exhaustion left your eyes.
But duty would come first, just as it always had.
The rest of the evening was a blur. You and the squad were met with cheers when you returned to the outpost, which meant it wasn’t difficult to get the fighters to join you on the trip back to the planetary capitol. They acted as the necessary force to get the Prime Minister and the other officials involved with the droid attack to surrender, though Hunter and the boys were with you, too.
You had promised a session the next day to begin sorting things out. You would be bringing more Republic officials on-world to facilitate, and to take care of Alvani, the Prime Minister, and the others. The arrival of those officials would also mark the departure of the squad. They were set to arrive in Hunter’s predicted window: two nights from now, including the rest of tonight.
The watch shifts were no longer, but Hunter’s presence in your bedroom was enough protection, anyway. He did eventually get to care for you in the way he had wanted to before, and he even allowed himself to smile at the thought of it before exhaustion took him right along with you. There wasn’t enough time or energy between the two of you to pursue anything else.
The second night, however, was one you both made use of. There was no promise yet of when, or frighteningly if, you could join his squad in some capacity, and that nervous energy was channeled into breathless and passionate desperation. It somehow managed to rival that first night you spent together, leaving Hunter’s senses frayed and pleased as exhaustion overwhelmed him in a much different way than the night before.
When the morning came, Hunter wasn’t brave enough to face it. He woke and remained where he was, his face pressed against the nape of your neck as your naked shoulders rose and fell in time with his own. Hunter listened to your heartbeat, gently stretching his senses just enough to memorize its distinct rhythm. It kept him calm, as if it was always meant to tune him.
Your entwined fingers eventually gave his a soft squeeze, and he exhaled a breath of defeat. There would be no hiding from this day, nor this goodbye.
You kept your hands together as you rolled over to face him. Hunter gave you a once-over, though the contrasting sparkle of sweetness and sadness in your gaze gave him pause. He held your stare as you lifted your free hand to brush through his hair, right where his bandana would usually be.
“How long have you been awake?” Your voice was no louder than a whisper.
Hunter let out a gentle huff. “Longer than you think.”
You laughed, though your amusement was short-lived as you heaved out a troubled breath. “This won’t be the end.” You gave him a nod, one of those determined ones that made his chest swell. “I don’t know what choice my people will make, but… I won’t let this be the end.”
Hunter raised his brow. “You’ll do whatever it takes to help your people, because that’s just who you are.” Hunter’s hand cupped your face as he returned your nod. “And that���s okay.”
You smiled at him. “You’re right.” You moved close enough for your nose to brush his. Hunter closed his eyes and tried to memorize that feeling, too. “But someone once told me that I don’t have to sacrifice all my wants for my people’s needs.” Hunter reopened his eyes and met the breathtaking sincerity within your own. “And I want to be with you, Hunt.”
Hunter smiled. Stars, he would never get tired of hearing you say his name like that. “I want that, too.” He couldn’t resist a kiss, even if it was brief. “You’ll know where to find us. We’ll just be out there chasing clankers.”
You hummed with amusement as you pushed your lips harder against his. It was easy to accept you, to meet each eager, desperate stroke and let at least one of his hands explore you while he still could. But there wasn’t any more time left to use up. Duty called.
Somehow, Hunter managed to pry himself from you and begin dressing for the day. You followed his lead, and Hunter couldn’t help noticing you had slipped on the same dress from the day you first met. Warmth consumed him from head to toe as he finished securing all his armor in place. He then sat in sweet silence with you until you were ready.
There was no other reason to stall. Hunter guided you out of the bedroom and the suite with a hand on your back, just like he had in that grandiose ballroom what felt like ages ago. Once the two of you had stepped outside, Hunter alerted the squad, and the next few minutes were the last you would have alone together.
For now, Hunter reminded himself. He agreed with what you had said before. Somehow, he knew, and truly knew, this was far from the end.
The boys were surprisingly quiet as they emerged from their rooms, as if they also felt the weight of the upcoming goodbye. They would be departing after breakfast, which made this silence stretch even longer, aside from a few of their usual quips and sibling disagreements. That might have been the one dining area where Wrecker didn’t start some kind of large-scale food fight.
You walked close enough to Hunter’s side for your hand to brush his a few times as you made your way to the platform where the Marauder was waiting. Hunter experienced a twinge of relief at the sight of it, with the ship feeling more like a home than even Kamino at that point, but the weight of this goodbye hadn’t fallen from him yet.
Your captain and your guard were waiting on the platform with the other Republic officials, representing the trade-off of protective duties that would go from Hunter and his squad back to your own guard. Hunter wasn’t too happy with it, but at least he knew you could protect yourself if you had to. It wouldn't be much longer until he could protect you again.
That’s what he had to keep telling himself.
You stopped by your captain, facing the squad that stood in a loose formation with their backs at the Marauder. Your gaze looked upon them all as you smiled and spoke in your formal tone. “I cannot thank you enough, Clone Force 99, for all you have done.” You closed your eyes and nodded, bowing your head a bit before looking upon them again. “Eirus would not have its freedom without you.” You chuckled. “Or its senator.”
Hunter set his jaw at the thought of it.
“I wish you all safe passage to your next journey.” Your stare caught his as you spoke one last time. “I’m sure our paths will cross again.”
“They better!” Wrecker insisted.
Hunter gave his head a fond shake. He watched as his squad all nodded and even smiled at you before heading for the ship, soon leaving just him and you. Your smile was sweeter than ever as you reached your hand forward, just like you had done on Coruscant.
Hunter took it and pressed his lips upon the back of it, his stare never once straying from yours until he forced himself to let go and turn away.
The squad all spun around to pretend they hadn’t been watching, as if Hunter and his senses hadn’t felt their gazes boring into his back. It made him chuckle to himself as he closed the distance to the ship.
The Marauder was quiet when he stepped inside, aside from the rumble of its engines as Tech prepared for takeoff. Echo’s hand caught Hunter’s shoulder before he could make his way to the cockpit, but no words came. They simply exchanged a nod, and Echo let Hunter go to join Tech up front.
Tech had obviously noted Hunter’s approach. “Where are we headed?”
Hunter sat down in the chair beside him and crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ll go back to Kamino, reset before we take our next mission.”
Tech nodded, and his hands flew over the controls as he input the coordinates and lifted the Marauder from Eirus’ surface. Hunter was glad he couldn’t see the sight of it fading behind them.
He was surprised when Tech started to speak again. “You failed to meet the proper protocol with the senator yet again, Hunter.”
Hunter turned his head to look at him, his brow furrowed. Tech gave him an amused glance, though he kept his focus on the stars that were starting to stretch ahead of them.
“I believe you were supposed to aim for her lips, not her hand.”
Hunter’s ears began to burn as he shook his head, though a fond smile stretched over his lips. He would have only risked that if he knew it was your final goodbye, and he didn’t truly believe that it was—not for a single moment.
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chapter 8 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 10 (epilogue)
hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb @jellybeanstacey0519 @violetlilly2020
senator’s shadow tag list: @callsign-denmark @dindadjarin @clintbarton-anon
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mylittleredgirl ¡ 8 months ago
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oh god this is obvious but it just occurred to me how much my tumblr dash after [redacted] years is a perfect model of that b.f. skinner pigeon experiment about operant conditioning theory.
i discover a new fixation. i follow a bunch of people also into that, and they fill my dash with posts about it. i'm quick to unfollow new people if it turns out they don't actually post very much about stuff i like. that's continuous reinforcement -- how new behaviors are best developed with consistent rewards and are easily abandoned without them.
but eventually i'm locked in. that person moves on to their next seven things, and only posts about our shared interest once in a blue moon. that's intermittent reinforcement, the thing that drove pigeons who had already learned (through initial continuous reinforcement) that pushing a lever = food to tap that lever twelve thousand times an hour, wearing down their beaks for less than a 1% rate of return.
anyway. that's us. we're in the box.
the circle of mutuals still following each other from a six-month fixation in 2018 which now crosses the dash maybe 3 times a year? pigeons. i don't care about the terror and didn't watch the pirate show, but i keep refreshing hoping that whatever i followed you all for will return from the war. i don't even remember what it was. i'm amazed every day how few of you have unfollowed me over the m*a*s*h thing because there are still star trek posts sprinkled in. i'm pecking the lever twelve thousand times an hour and i'm starving. i love it here. i will never leave.
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theerurishipper ¡ 1 year ago
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Just saw a post that said Adrien is a love bomber... are we really throwing buzzwords around for the sake of salting on Adrien, the abuse victim? Love bombing is an emotional manipulation tactic, and it is usually paired with the cycle of abuse. Adrien is not abusive. He is not emotionally manipulating Marinette. He is showing her affection. I guess we're demonizing showing our loved ones any sort of affection now...
Yeah fr, people will throw around all kinds of words istg. This is the definition of love bombing:
Love bombing is a tactic in which someone “bombs” you with extreme displays of attention and affection with the intent to manipulate you. Although being showered with "love" can seem positive at the beginning of a romantic relationship, love bombing can lead to gaslighting and abuse. Psychologists caution it might be a tactic used by a narcissist or sociopath in an attempt to control you.
Anyways, Adrien doesn't do this. In fact, this is what Gabriel does to Adrien. From this article:
In a relationship with a pathological predator, love bombing is combined with intermittent reinforcement to create a sense of instability and longing in the victim. Intermittent reinforcement (in the context of psychological abuse) is a pattern of cruel, callous treatment mixed in with periodic affection. The abuser hands out rewards such as affection, a compliment, or gifts sporadically and unpredictably throughout the abuse cycle. This causes the victim to perpetually seek their approval while settling for the crumbs of their occasional positive behavior.
This is exactly what Gabriel does. Whenever it seems like Adrien is rebelling against him because he is tired of Gabriel's neglect, Gabriel will offer him a little concession. Adrien is rebelling against him? Fine, let him go to school. In this way, Adrien doesn't rebel against his father anymore, and Gabriel can keep him under his control, because now Adrien will continue to believe the best of his father and will continue to try and earn his love. Another example is in Gorizilla. Adrien gets tired of Gabriel stopping him from seeing his mother's movie, and sneaks out. Later, Gabriel allows him to watch the movie, and throws in a little bit of gaslighting in there, essentially blaming Adrien for not being open with him and making him feel guilty, when it's his own fault his son didn't open up to him, which is because he's a neglectful asshat.
This is Gabriel and Adrien's relationship. Adrien stays with his father and tries so hard to please him, because Gabriel has instilled in him that love is something conditional that is to be earned. And whenever it seems like Adrien is breaking away from this mentality, Gabriel will do something "nice" for him, which will bring Adrien right back, because he's an abused child who wants to believe the best of his father and wants his love and affection.
Again, to quote the article:
As author Adylen Birch writes, “Creating fear of losing the relationship and then relieving it periodically with episodes of love and attention is the perfect manipulation.” Much like the way a gambler at a slot machine becomes addicted to playing the game for a potential win despite the risk of major loss, a victim in the abuse cycle can become attached to the idea of getting a return on their investment in the relationship despite the toll it takes on their well-being.
There's actually an example of this in the show. From Illusion:
Adrien: Speaking of which, Dad, I'm not really comfortable with having my face on all these rings. That's actually why I didn't want to be a model anymore, to avoid that. Do you understand? Gabriel: Of course, I understand, my son. But that's the point; it's just an image, it's not you! And since this image frees you from your obligations, we, the Agrestes, are able to spend more time together. But if you'd rather everything went back to the way it was before, just say the word. Adrien: (wears the Alliance ring on his index finger) You're probably right.
Gabriel even explicitly says what he's doing, which is holding the threat of going back to their previous relationship over his son's head to emotionally manipulate him. To refer back to the article, he creates the fear of losing the relationship in Adrien, and then makes a big deal of showing that he cares so much about Adrien and his future, and he makes him breakfast. This is love-bombing. And so, Adrien goes along with whatever Gabriel wants as long as he doesn't lose it. And so, he continues to do what Gabriel wants, which is to accept the Alliance rings and his image being used in ways he doesn't want. And true enough, Adrien goes back to defending his father after he finally worked up the courage to confront him for his shit in the beginning.
Adrien: My father? But Nino, he's changed, he's making an effort, and it's the first time he's coming to school!
I could go on, and there are several examples of this in the show, but then we'd be here forever. But I highly recommend that article. I just read it, and it is literally Gabriel and Adrien, oh my god. It's very informative and I think we should all be aware of this.
But anyways, back to your question anon (sorry for the tangent). Adrien doesn't love bomb. Adrien is just very affectionate. He doesn't withdraw affection from anyone, he doesn't make them settle for scraps. He doesn't try to manipulate anyone, he doesn't gaslight anyone, he doesn't try to make them seek his approval. Adrien is always kind and loving towards everybody he cares for.
In fact, Adrien does the exact opposite. He fawns over others, and he tries to earn their love and approval. This is because of Gabriel's abuse. And to accuse him of love bombing is so disgusting. Honestly, people just throw those words around like candy. But then again, I've seen what the side of the fandom that might have said this usually says, and it's usually the same victim-blamey abuse apologist rhetoric, so I'm not even surprised.
Thank you for your ask!
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etirabys ¡ 4 months ago
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not sure why I check my email and messages so often when 80% of it makes me go "mmmmm I'll deal with that later"
possibilities:
I like easing into it, getting a vague sense of what my responsibilities are before coming around to facing them
no need to overthink it, it's just intermittent reinforcement. the Box Of Messages that unpredictably shows me both fanfic comments and job app emails is bound to mess with my reward system
functionalist hypothesis: sometimes I click on stuff and forget to mark it as unread again, which reduces total work load. a consequence I am aware of on some level and desire
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iwouldnotconsumeyou ¡ 9 months ago
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B cancelled on our cinema trip less than an hour before. he got a call from the hospital and needed to leave immediately to visit his dad. I didn't know his dad was back in hospital again but it does happen every 9 months or so. every time it seems worse. I was pretty upset but I just saw the film by myself and sent him a message afterwards letting him know I'd do anything I could to help.
but here on my tumblr I will be unreasonable and bitchy and say: I hate that anything is more important than seeing me :'(
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