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ruesol · 3 months ago

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HAND(S)Y - one shot

(JOHN PRICE X READER)

PLOT:

you make the mistake of assuming that your veteran neighbor offered to do your apartment’s maintenance work out of the kindness of his heart (wc: 4.8k)

tags and cw: fem/afab reader, age gap, dubcon, coercion (sort of), explicit sexual content, size kink (again, kind of)

AO3 LINK

—

“And you’re sure the landlord didn’t mind removing maintenance costs from the rent?”

It was all too good to be true. Apartment (almost) smack-dab in the middle of the city, fifteen minutes from your new workplace (even with public transport), and amenities like a gym and grocery stores just a skip away. The rent was a laughable price. Sure, it didn’t include maintenance, but who cares? It’s a new building, and you have an en-suite bathroom.

Sally, the rental agent let out a long, exasperated sigh as she rubbed down her nose bridge. You almost felt bad for pestering her with your concerns, but who wouldn’t feel a little perturbed after suddenly receiving a call about how the apartment they had just rejected for the high rent was now being decreased to almost half the initial markup.

“The owner himself called me this morning. Said he couldn’t find anyone who could afford the rent and decided to take a chance. He’d rather get any kind of profit than have an empty flat eating up maintenance money.” She pulled out her copy of your lease from her shiny leather tote to give you further proof. A little condescending knowing that she had just seen you sign the contract in front of her on your new apartment’s kitchen countertop.

That was another mystery to you—the owner hadn’t met you yet. You weren’t someone of a concerning background, and nor was your criminal history too colorful (only a few slap-on-the-wrist instances of underage drinking), but it felt strange knowing that the owner wanted nothing to do with his own building. Him refusing to meet you even when you requested to speak to him.

Though, you weren’t sure if he’d be as friendly as the rental agent working for him—as rude as she may be. You could chalk it up to the exhaustion of constantly having to speak to people. You didn’t blame either of them. You weren’t much of a people person either.

The rental agent mentioned that your neighbors were quite alright too. A germaphobic old lady and a man in the army—two other people besides you on your floor. Manageable and silent.

It didn’t take you long to turn your apartment into a home. After a couple shopping sprees, you could officially feel the dread of emptiness seep out of you. A quaint one-bedroom apartment with a lovely kitchen unit that, compared to your old place, actually had a working oven. Even the air conditioner didn’t spit out ice after being switched on for too long.

Maybe your standards had been lowered after staying in bad-to-mediocre places with vents filled with mothballs while in college.

It warmed you to know that your start to official adulthood was going to be in a lovely home. Something that truly showed your personality.

Except, you were still waiting on your mattress and had been crashing on the uncomfortable yet artsy couch you bought off of a broke fashion student in some unseen corner of the city. You should’ve known the price wasn’t worth the discomfort when you saw her skip away with a month’s worth of your old part-time pay—notes leaving your account before pennies could trickle in.

–

There were many times when you wished you were a man: at the mechanic’s, comfortably sitting with your legs spread only to shut them close, being shoved and bumped into when using public transport, and now–moving your very new and cumbersome mattress into your apartment.

You heaved as you tried to push it through the door, the floppy heap of cotton and springs discouraging you with every budge. It almost felt like the heavy thing was mocking you. You were a victim of your own high-strung and eager spending.

“You must be the new tenant in 492. I live in 494. Need some help?” The voice behind you was gravelly thick, like moist tar after a rainy day. Your eyes landed on his broad shoulders first. They were held back high like he was happy carrying the weight of the world. Veteran neighbor. From your assumptions and amateur knowledge of the military, formalities were a huge thing for soldiers, so you extended your hand to him to introduce yourself.

Of course, another thing that was very important in the military was structure, so you bit your lip to stop yourself from guffawing at how his large, calloused hand almost engulfed yours. You couldn’t help but self-consciously tuck a small piece of hair behind your ear when you realized how intensely he was staring at you as he said his name–John Price.

A few moments later, you decided to thank John with a glass of chilled boxed lemonade. And for the first time, you were embarrassed at how bleak your fridge was. It was self-explanatory in college with how students don’t really have the money to fill the box to the brim, but as an adult, it was mortifying. It showed you weren’t careful. That you were careless and didn’t know how to take care of yourself, already losing momentum at the beginning of the race. His presence felt large and looming, making your apartment feel comically small. You wondered how he fit into his unit.

The drops of sweat behind your neck pooled down to your lower back as John’s blue eyes darted around your apartment from his seat at the kitchen barstool. With everything being done under obligation, you weren’t given much opportunity to customize your life, so decorating your first apartment felt like a childhood dream come true.

An immature girl. That’s probably how the soldier saw you even though you were one when he was well into adulthood. Probably already climbing the ranks.

“You’re one unlucky girl,” he chuckled as he took another sip of the citrusy drink. Your vision was never the best, but you swore you could see juice droplets drip into his beard.

“What do you mean, Mr. Price?”

“John’ll do, sweetheart,” he said to you through a grin. “You just happened to walk into a trap. There’s always a new problem with this place. I reckon the owner didn’t tell you that, did he?” A child. An immature, stupid, too-new-for-the-world child.

“He even got rid of the maintenance charge from the monthly rent,” you sheepishly admitted while playing with the fraying threads on your shirt sleeve.

“Yeah, that’s how they get ya. Can you afford to break the lease?” Your eyes are too busy staring holes into your sleeve to notice Price’s bright, blue, inquisitive gaze settled on you.

“I can’t afford to find a new place right now.” It felt like the world had chewed you up and spat you out. One hurdle greater than the next. You wondered just how people did not want to give up after coming out of the warm cocoon of their childhood.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he murmured to himself. He could tell you were disturbed by your delayed replies. His long legs carried him to where you stood, heavy thumping boots bellowing echoes with every step. A large hand sits at the back of your neck, your dewy skin sticking to his palm like honey. You were emotional to the point of pliancy, so it didn’t take him much effort to angle your head up to him.

“You tell me if you need any handiwork done. It’ll be our secret,” he cajoles calmly, staring into your eyes. The smell of bitter tobacco emanates from him as his broad body shields you from the light coming in through your windows. Your delusional mind patterns the afternoon sun to create a golden halo around his head. The fulfillment you got from feeling stable after a long time was a different kind of high. But you couldn’t accept it so quickly. Life has the cruel habit of snatching things away when you clutch them in your palm.

“I couldn’t do that to you. You must be so busy–”

His grip on the back of your neck tightened as his face got closer to yours. Blue irises boring into your tired, red eyes as his lemony, sweet breath hits your lips with every long second. “Hey, it’s nothing. I always do my own handiwork.”

“No, John, at least let me repay you,” you didn’t mean to whine, but you couldn’t help it with the way his fingers were now trailing into your matted and sweaty hair. “Course you will. Just give me a little more than lemonade next time.”

–

John was like a phantom after that day. You’d only just miss him as you’d enter your apartment building, the door to his flat swinging shut as soon as you exited the elevator. It felt like he was trying to keep your little arrangement under wraps for everyone–which was funny as you barely saw the other building residents. But alas, one could never be too sure. Maybe John was much more sociable than you.

Summer was as unforgiving as ever. It felt like the sun scorched everything in its path, from skin to paper to puddles of water. A week later, You were compelled to knock on John’s door with a sheepish smile and your t-shirt sticking to your body with sweat. He agreed to your request with a grunt, soon following you into your apartment with a toolbox. He navigated the place like his own, automatically knowing where the troubled AC was. “It’s in the same place in my unit,” he explained with his signature grin, meticulously styled beard lifting with the apples of his cheeks.

Feeling useless, you trudged to your kitchen to put out some cookies and a glass of lemonade as a sign of gratitude. Also the unbearable heat made you want to stick your head in your freezer.

The sound of John’s throat clearing pulled you out of your temporary paradise. You whipped your head only to see his eyes flit from your hips to your face. Your inner voice prayed that he wasn’t standing there for too long.

“I’ve fixed it. Should take about twenty minutes to cool up the place. Are those for me?” He pointed at the plate of chocolate chip cookies you had baked the night before, definitely not preparing for the ‘something extra’ the man was expecting for his favors. You vigorously nod as you drag the cookies and lemonade across the countertop, but the clicking of John’s tongue stops you. “My hands are dirty, love. Do you mind feeding them to me?”

You weren’t sure why your first thought was to put the confection up to his chapped lips, why you didn’t think of letting him wash his hands in your kitchen sink (only three steps away.) You weren’t even sure if he meant what he said until your cookie reached his mouth. He took a big, hearty bite, making brown sugar crumbs rain down your fingers. Your heart quickened at the feeling of his slick tongue grazing the tips of your fingers. His eyes never left yours throughout.

“Thanks, love, I’ll be taking this with me then.” And just like that, your friendly neighbor John Price left with his glass of lemonade, and only then did you realize you were wearing your white cotton see-through shorts with a pair of black panties underneath.

—

John was no longer the phantom you assumed him to be after that day. You’d occasionally see him around the building while collecting mail, buying groceries, or by the bus stop (where he’d stop his car and offer you a lift to your workplace). You were seeing him everywhere. Literally. The only place you didn’t see him was at work. The repairs around your apartment were too many to the point where he was at your place more than his.

The man had this strange talent of almost always materializing next to you. Even down to picking you up from work. It felt strange, but you were glad you wouldn't have to spend money on public transport. The more you could save up, the sooner you could move out. Taking advantage of John’s help wasn’t fair to either of you. It was eating up his spare time, and for you, well, you couldn’t catch a break whenever you’d see him walk in with his toolbox and bulging muscles.

Also because his demands were starting to get more…personal.

It all started when he had fixed your bathroom pipes for you, blasted thing giving out right when you were about to leave for work. You were lucky to have built a good enough rapport with Price that he let you into his unit and freshen up, even offering you his shower. You weren’t sure if the germaphobic old lady would’ve been too keen on letting you even be in a three-foot radius of her.

Price was about to leave your apartment with yet again, more cookies and a whole bottle of lemonade, when he had stopped just before going out the door.

“Everything alright, John?” you asked as you walked over to him, shoving your wallet and your keys in your work bag in a hurry. “Can I have something for my compensation this time?”

Guilt seeped into your bones when you realized that you had been giving him the exact same treatment for everything he had helped you fix. No matter how complex the task.

You had wished your cooking and baking skills were more intricate and refined, but chocolate chip cookies and boxed lemonade were all you had to offer.

Though you could always switch out lemonade for so—

“Give me a kiss,” he demanded. Not even a question or suggestion. Just something branded with molten hot iron onto your brain without your awareness.

“I-I’m getting late. I’ll see you later.” Yes, it was best if you just pretended if you didn’t hear him. You try to brush past him but he’s quick to block your way. “On the cheek. Not asking you to take my lips. Although, I’m not against that either.”

You were really hoping that the last part was a light joke.

“John—“

“You’re getting late and I can’t drive you today.” The man was a brick wall, blocking the entirety of your apartment door with just a slightly wider than usual stance.

He bent down, his face coming into level with yours. He didn’t bother turning his cheek to you for the minuscule possibility of you leaving a sweet kiss on his lips instead.

You glanced down at your watch and the bus was going to be at the stop in five minutes. You could make it in time if you took the stairs and ran.

With an uneasy mind and bite to the inside of your cheek, your pressed your lips his cheek. You try to wipe off the faint tint of peach left behind by your scented lip balm but he’s quick to walk back to his apartment.

Kisses on the cheek soon turn into kisses on the lips. They start off with quick pecks, something you hope to finish as soon as he leans down.

Until one day, he suddenly stamps his large paw on the back of your head and slips his tongue past your lips, savoring the taste of your hot mouth with his.

His citrusy breath lingers in your mouth and ingrains itself in your mind till the next time something goes wrong in your apartment. You aren’t sure when the right time to stop is. On the one hand, John grinds his hips against yours as he makes out with your mouth after fixing your sink, and on the other hand, you barely have enough funds to pay for maintenance and move into a better apartment.

So you endure it.

However, it is thrilling to know that there is a man out there who wants you so much that he growls in your mouth and squeezes your waist and under your shirt as soon as you kiss him back.

–

All your restraints break loose on the day you find your roof leaking. You’re quick to call John, knowing that it only takes two rings until he picks up. The burr of his voice, even through the phone, shackles your feet to the ground. They only move when he tells you that you can stay in his apartment while some of his handy friends check out what’s really causing the leak.

So you gingerly make your way across the hallway, laptop in hand and last night’s dinner in a lunch box as a thank you for John.

All three of his friends are similar to him–tall, burly, thick accents that make them sound like they’re spewing insults with every syllable that escapes their mouths.

The man with the dirty blond hair and surgical mask is oddly fascinated with you, though. His light brown eyes constantly shift between you and John–almost like he can detect that there’s a sliver of an unconventional relationship between you two.

You don’t give him the opportunity to ask when you briskly walk into John’s apartment with your head trained toward the floor.

Since John’s unit is similar to yours, there are not many places for you to work on your laptop besides sitting next to him on the couch. Like most men his age, his apartment is sparse, with no extra furniture than what’s required.

Even his couch feels like it was brought just for the sake of keeping something for guests. It’s comfortable yet small, only big enough to fit two adults. And even then, with John manspreading, you’re shoved into the corner, having to use the arm rest to support your weight on your elbow.

Deep down, you knew your efforts to keep a respectable distance were futile. He had already had his tongue down your throat not too long ago; what’s a little clothed thigh-to-thigh contact while sitting on the couch?

The man is unapologetically himself, with his beer in his hand and his arm extended at the back of the couch. He makes sure to take up space wherever he goes.

The television loudly blares his sports match, and the sound of the referee distracts you to the point where you end up writing ‘what a spectacular goal’ in your work report. You don’t have the courage to ask him to lower the volume, so you shut your laptop and place it on the equally small coffee table in front of you.

“I’m not gonna bite you. Sit comfortably.” The arm behind you nudges your shoulder, and you comply, slowly spreading your legs to the point where your knees touch. He sighs and slides his arm around your shoulder, and drags you closer till you’re entirely pressed up against him.

“Much better isn’t it.”

You nod, and he slides his hand down to your waist and squeezes it. “Use your words, love.”

“Yes, John.”

“Good girl.”

His scent is thick with tobacco and Old Spice as it clouds your senses. He hadn’t moved his hand from your waist and simply rubbed as his fingers slowly crept down to the hem of your shirt.

You can only play with fingers your in your lap as you watch the team he’s supporting score yet another goal.

The match was only background noise now. A distant whirr failing to compete with the churning gears in your mind.

“Come to think of it, you haven’t compensated me for helping you today.”

“...what?”

His hand moves further up under your shirt, resting just below the band of your bra.

“Compensation. My friends are busy men, you know.”

“Oh, right.”

You turn to face him, sweat already pooling at the base of your spine as you lean in to kiss his lips.

But he stops you–squishing your cheeks together with a single hand as he pulls you away and smirks at your flustered state. The hand inside your shirt begins to caress your skin.

“I want something more.” His request reverberates in your skull till you almost go cross-eyed. His heady gaze has a hint of amusement as his fingers dance just beneath your bra, skirting around the band.

“Sit in on my lap.” The burr of his voice has you acting like a mindless zombie as you straddle him, hovering just above his semi-hardened crotch. With a click of his tongue, he pushes your waist and makes you sit directly on top. You gasp, holding on to his shoulders to steady yourself and your sanity.

“That’s more like it,” he says. His calloused hands run up and down your thighs, occasionally pushing his fingers into your shorts and grazing the hem of your panties.

“Did you wear these for me?” he whispers before nipping your earlobe. “Wanted to tease me, didn’t you?”

“I wasn’t trying to do anything,” you reason.

“If you weren’t, then you wouldn’t be sitting on my lap right now,” he counters before his lips latch onto your neck. The collar is tight, not giving him access to your decolletage even when he tries to pull down the fabric.

So he rucks up your shirt and takes it off you, ignoring your weak protests while throwing it away in some corner of his living room. “So soft,” he murmurs into your neck as his hands travel around the expanse of your abdomen, fingers digging into your sides to pull you closer till your chest meets his.

You bite your lip to keep yourself from letting out tiny cries when John sucks on your skin. He chuckles when he notices your chest falling and rising at the pace of a rabbit’s heartbeat. It feels like mockery. You’re giving him what he wants with minimal obstruction, yet he acts like he could take you whenever.

He licks your bottom lip as he orders you to take off your bra and sit on your knees so that your breasts are almost face-to-face with his mouth.

It horrifies you to think about how selfish it would be of you not to help him. The man is a veteran and has many things on his plate. Offering yourself to him on a silver platter after making him do all that labor for you is the least you could do for him.

John only watches you unclasp your bra with shaky hands. He does not make any effort to touch you or even quicken your pace, surprisingly patient. But his lascivious gaze says otherwise.

“Been waiting so long to see this. Had to make it the perfect moment. Ease you in.” His paws are quick to latch onto your breasts as soon as you pull down the straps of your bra. You gasp when he places his mouth on your nipple, flicking his tongue on the pebbled nub as his hands squeeze and push your other breast.

It’s far too late to stop and truly contemplate how fucked up the whole situation was–how easily you had just played into whatever he wanted.

His hands travel down your chest to the apex of your thigh and pull on your shorts. “Take these off too, love. Wouldn’t want you to take advantage of my kindness and not give yourself entirely in return.”

Your hands are frozen on his shoulders, baffled at how brazenly commanding John’s being. Seeing this, he sighs and grabs ahold of your hands in his and shoves your thumbs in your waist band. “Come on, down they go.”

“Look at you, all soaked.” John leers at the wet spot on your panties as you hover over his lap, knees uncomfortably digging into his couch. John pushes his thumb throw your labia and drags it from your slit to your clit, lightly pressing on it. Your nails dig into his shoulder. It was horrifying yet arousing. You’d only ever read stories about heroines paying off their debt using their bodies, but seeing it happen to you, in reality, was another thing.

It was all too humiliating–being so naive that you inadvertently trusted an older man with ill intentions. Your lips were still tingling from the wet kiss he left earlier, all tongue and no mercy. And then he moved to do it again, hot mouth devouring your mewls. His other hand, situated at the back of your knee, moved up to your ass, squeezing along the way and fixing itself underneath the cotton of your underwear. Thick fingers dug into soft skin like a clutched cushion.

“You wanted this to happen, didn’t you? That’s why you’re so ready for me?” he teases as his fingers move faster. “Bet you broke things in your apartment just so I could come in and see you half-dressed.”

“No,” you weakly stammer out.

“Sure, lie all you want. I already know you wanted this dick to fill you up the whole time. Don’t worry, I’ll stuff your cunt, sweetheart–I promise you that.”

He pulls the saturated gusset of your panties to the side and strokes a thick finger up the seam of your cunt. He kisses away your gasp when he enters your hole, hands playing with your nipple as he shoves another finger in, slowly increasing his speed.

You whine as you rub your clit, trying to find some sort of relief, but he immediately pulls out and shoves your hand away, slapping your clit to keep you in line. “You’ll get what you want if you’re patient. Now pull my cock out my pants.”

You meekly nod as tears threaten to spill out your dewy eyes. With ginger hands, you slowly unzip his jeans. His bulge is intimidating, already hard and straining against the cotton of his boxers.

You gasp slightly when you see the damp circle of precome on his underwear. His heated gaze and the intimidating outline of his dick make you shiver in your spot. When you pull him out, you nearly feel like running away. The sheer size of him is nothing you’ve seen before. Most of the people you’d hooked up with weren’t as girthy or long.

John groans as you wrap your hand around him, stroking the tip with caution.

“Come on, don’t be afraid—sit on it.” The timbre of his voice pulls you out of your momentary daze and you gulp.

John’s hands grasp your hips as he slowly pulls you down. He hisses when the entrance to your warm, wet, cunt meets his tip. The stretch you feel as your walls slide down his length is painful, his engorged cock fitting snugly.

“What’s wrong, love? Need a moment?” It almost feels like the older man is mocking you. ‘Have you really never taken something this big before?’

And before you can adjust to his size, John bucks his hip up into you, making you squeak as your body jerks.

“I think I’ll just need to fuck myself into you to fit well, don’t you think, darling?” he whispers in your ear before leaving a scorching kiss on your mouth.

You’re breathless after he pulls away and you nod dumbly, too overstimulated to do or say anything. His thumb strums along your clit, making you weep and wrap your arms around his neck. He rocks on top of him, viscid walls familiarizing themselves with every nerve that bulges out from his cock, slick collecting at the base.

And before you know it, he moves his hand away from your hips, only watching you bounce on his lap like you’re chasing your own high.

“I’m so—so full,” you whimper as John massages your breasts. You feel his muscles tensing under his t-shirt and he pulls you into another heated kiss as he pinches your nipple. You whine, almost at edge, as he tongues your mouth, groaning from the depths of his chest as he feels you contracting harder around his length.

“Come for me, honey,” he mumbles into your mouth, hand going down to your clit.

The elastic knot in your abdomen tightens till it snaps, rendering your spineless as you fall into John’s embrace. You both breath heavily as John reaches his own climax, his spend painting your walls white.

You were too exhausted to worry about birth control at the time.

—

You weren’t sure how long you had slept for, but you were sure that you had been out for longer than an hour considering that you were wearing John’s old military training t-shirt and had a sour taste in your mouth. Your cunt began to ache as you remembered the reason why you were so exhausted.

John is nowhere to be seen, so you drag yourself out of bed, limbs heavy as you crawl across to the foot.

That is until you hear John’s phone buzz at the night stand.

Curious, you crawl back. The thought of privacy briefly crossed your mind before you brushed it away. You’d bared your body to that man. A small text didn’t matter.

Your huffed at what you read. Eyes wide with sleep quickly vanishing by the nanosecond, It was the realtor who’d shown the apartment you were presently living in.

Sally M. : Hello, John. I just wanted to confirm how quickly you were planning on emptying unit 492. I know a few people who want to see it already.”

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aventurineswife · 3 months ago

Note

aventurine, phainon, sunday, and veritas (student AU) were reader is the new student and they are afraid of go and socializing since its their first time making a big change.

(i am currently experiencing being the new student and the truth is that it is strange to be in a new environment and leave my old classmates 😭✋ sorry for kinda venting here...)

Step Into the Unknown

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Phainon x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Fluff, Comfort, Mentorship, School AU, Anxiety/Comfort, Inner Conflict, Growth, Slow Burn (?), Emotional Healing, Supportive Characters, Personal Growth.

Warnings: Anxiety, Mild Angst, Possible Mentions of Trauma, Sensitive Themes (handling mental health, overcoming fear of social interaction).

A/N: Hey, I totally get that—it’s tough being the new person and leaving behind familiar faces. It’s okay to feel a little off about it. Take it one step at a time; things will get easier. You’ve got this. 🫂💖

It was your first day at a new school, and the nerves were nearly overwhelming. You stood in the hallway, clutching your books close to your chest, a sea of unfamiliar faces passing by. The thought of socializing made your stomach turn with anxiety. It was all so much, too fast, and too big a change from what you were used to. You felt so small, a lone figure amidst the bustling crowds.

That's when you noticed him.

Aventurine stood at the far end of the hall, his presence unmistakable. His tousled hair and flamboyant, well-tailored uniform/clothes instantly caught your attention. His vibrant eyes scanned the crowd like he was playing a game—a game he was undoubtedly winning.

You froze for a moment, unsure whether to approach or shrink back. But then, to your surprise, he made his way over, his confident gait purposeful yet unhurried. His eyes gleamed with something between mischief and curiosity.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he said smoothly, his voice playful yet warm. “A new player in the game?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to stammer out a response, but he was already leaning in, an amused smirk tugging at his lips.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Aventurine continued, his hand flicking a strand of his earring, “You’ve got a good chance, but you have to roll the dice and take the first step.” He glanced over his shoulder, then back at you, his smile softening slightly. “But maybe I’ll be your good luck charm. After all, everyone needs one in their corner, don’t they?”

Aventurine was always calculated in his words, but today, there was something different—a subtle kindness. It wasn’t the usual risk-driven banter. No, this felt... real. He gestured toward the cafeteria, a suggestion of something more than just a social interaction in his gaze.

“Come on, let’s make this a game,” he said with a wink. “I’ll show you the ropes. Nothing to be afraid of—just a game of chance.”

His confidence was contagious, and though your anxiety still clung to your chest, you found yourself following him. Maybe it was time to roll the dice and see where this new chapter would take you.

Your heart raced as you stepped into the classroom, your nervousness magnified by the fact that this was your first time in a new school. The faces around you were strangers, and the thought of socializing made you want to disappear. Everyone seemed to already know each other, moving with ease while you stood awkwardly near the door, hoping no one would notice how out of place you felt.

And then, from across the room, you saw him.

Phainon, with his striking white hair and piercing eyes, seemed to glow with an almost regal air. He was sitting with a group, but his focus wasn’t entirely on them. His eyes were soft, observing the space, and for a moment, they landed on you.

A gentle smile spread across his face, and without hesitation, he stood up and walked toward you. His movements were fluid, and his presence radiated a warmth that made you feel... safe.

“Hi,” he greeted, his voice calm and inviting. “I’m Phainon. You must be the new student, right?”

Your words fumbled, but Phainon didn’t seem to mind. He tilted his head slightly, his bright eyes shining with genuine curiosity.

“Starting somewhere new can be tough,” he said, as if reading your thoughts. “But trust me, it’s not as scary as it seems. And if you need someone to talk to or sit with, I’m always here.”

There was no pressure in his offer, just sincerity, and for the first time that day, you felt like you weren’t alone. Phainon smiled again, his cheerfulness like a beacon of reassurance.

“Don’t worry. Let’s face this new adventure together.”

And as he led you to an empty seat beside him, you realized that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be so bad.

The school bell rang, signaling the end of the first class of the day. You lingered in the hallway, unsure of where to go next. It was your first day, and the overwhelming newness of everything made you feel like an outsider. You weren’t sure how to approach anyone, and your anxiety held you back from making the first move.

Then, you noticed him.

Sunday, with his ethereal presence, stood near the window, gazing out with his eyes lost in thought. His hair shimmered as he adjusted it gently, and the soft flutter of his wings behind his ears made him seem otherworldly. There was something peaceful about his demeanor, something you instinctively gravitated toward.

When he turned and caught sight of you, a slight, almost imperceptible smile crossed his face. His voice was soft, like a breeze, carrying a sense of calm.

“You seem troubled,” he observed, taking a step toward you. His tone wasn’t judgmental, just a quiet acknowledgment of your discomfort. “It’s alright to feel that way. New beginnings can be... overwhelming.”

You didn’t know what to say at first, but Sunday’s gaze was understanding, his eyes filled with a depth that made you feel like you weren’t as alone as you thought.

“I know how it feels to be unsure,” he continued, his voice like a gentle lullaby. “But sometimes, the hardest part is taking that first step. If you’d like, I could walk with you. No rush, no expectations—just the company of someone who knows the weight of change.”

You nodded, grateful for his presence. Sunday’s calm energy had a soothing effect on you, and for the first time that day, you allowed yourself to breathe. As you walked with him down the hallway, you realized that maybe, with a little help from a kind soul like Sunday, this new chapter wasn’t as intimidating as it seemed.

The lecture hall was filled with students, their voices mingling with the sound of shuffling papers. You stood at the entrance, frozen by the sight of so many unfamiliar faces. It was your first day, and the thought of trying to fit in, to start over, felt insurmountable. You felt small and out of place.

Then, you saw him.

Ratio—or Veritas, as the students sometimes referred to him—was standing at the front of the room, his hair cascading over one eye. His presence was commanding, even without him saying a word. He wore an air of confidence that made the rest of the world seem secondary. His piercing eyes scanned the students, and when they landed on you, they didn’t just see a new face; they saw... someone in need of guidance.

“You’re the new student,” Ratio said with a knowing glance, his voice smooth and sure. There was no judgment, only a sharp clarity. “Don’t fret. You’re here to learn. To challenge yourself. It’s the only thing that matters in this place.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond, but his eyes—those striking eyes—didn’t waver.

“Knowledge overcomes everything,” he continued, walking over to you with deliberate steps. “Fear, doubt, uncertainty. The moment you embrace it, you’ll find yourself in control. You’ll find your footing.”

His words weren’t just advice—they were a challenge, an invitation to rise above the discomfort that clung to you.

“You may not feel like you belong here yet,” Ratio said, his gaze now softer, “but this is your chance. And I believe in your potential. Knowledge does not judge. It simply waits for those brave enough to seek it.”

As he led you to an empty seat beside him, you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe this new chapter was less about fitting in and more about embracing the challenge of learning. Ratio’s confidence, his unwavering belief in intellect, made you feel like you might just be able to find your own strength in this new world.

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gazmit68 · 2 months ago

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The mercs with a terminally ill s/o

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CW: mentions of death & grief

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A/N: Honestly, writing this brought me to tears, because it reminded me of my coworker whom I lost some time ago (his death was somewhat expected but still sudden). But I wanted to do it anyway, and it made me feel a little better :')

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SCOUT

For someone who looks so headstrong, Jeremy seems like he handles grief very poorly (i.e. lashing out, acting and saying things without thinking, etc.)

This boy would probably be in one of the worst mental states of his life.

He may even ask Medic to try saving you, even if you're beyond help.

But he knows he has to prepare for life without you.

He'd still want to keep you with him at all times, even after your passing; if you decided to be cremated, he'd want your ashes in a special dog tag necklace.

He'd visit you every single day in the hospital/hospice, telling you silly jokes and bringing you snacks/plush toys. Hell, he'd still visit you, even after you've been laid to rest.

SOLDIER

With all of the time he's spent in the war(s), Jane has lost quite a lot of close comrades. He's desensitized himself to it all so he doesn't get overcome with grief.

He knows that death is an inevitable part of life, so he tries to live each day with no regrets.

And he'll try to instill that mindset in you as well.

Jane will do his best to make you as comfortable as possible, though it's extremely difficult given the circumstances.

Hand holding, soft forehead kisses or pretty much any kind of physical affection is a must.

But he'll finally break down once you actually pass, but his tears won't be of just grief. They're tears of relief, knowing you don't have to suffer anymore.

PYRO

It will take some time before they accept you'll be gone soon.

It's almost as if they're already experiencing that first stage of grief (denial).

Pyroland won't ever be the same once the dust settles.

They'll be clingy for sure, not leaving you out of their sight if they can help it.

You don't have the heart to tell Pyro you need a little space.

And it's better that you don't; they feel crushed already as it is, and you don't want to kick them while they're down.

Let Pyro smother you as much as they want, and give them all the attention you can.

DEMOMAN

This man's coping mechanisms vary.

On one hand, he'll spend as much time with you as he can, talking with you for hours.

But he may also seclude himself in his room and drink the stress away.

Random crying spells will occur on and off, in the weeks leading to your death.

He'd definitely go on drunken rants as well.

Tavish will initially want to avoid the reality, but the team will convince him otherwise.

Constant reassurance from you is the best thing you can do for him at this point.

HEAVY

Mikhail would have little to no reaction upon learning the news of your illness...at first.

He looks like he'd have it all together when with the rest of the team.

But once you're actually gone, he just breaks down and is inconsolable.

Quiet cries, burying his face in his hands, he just couldn't hold it together at your wake/funeral.

Mikhail will vent out his feelings to Medic, as he's the one person he respects the most. He may also try to ask him to bring you back.

But in the meantime, try to talk to him as often as you can.

As much as this guy likes his alone time, just try and break some of those walls down.

ENGINEER

Dell would have the same reaction as Heavy, though he wouldn't shed as many tears.

This man is one of the more sensible mercs on the team, so he'd try to be realistic about dealing with grief.

But that doesn't take the pain away.

He's obviously devastated, but chooses not to show it.

You know he's hurting, so just try to hold him and tell him everything will eventually be alright.

But don't ramble on; just you being next to him is more than enough.

MEDIC

Oh lord.

Where do I even start?

Herbert is practically the most emotionally unstable man on the team.

He'd definitely be stuck in denial, like brainwashing himself into believing you're not dying.

Despite how much everyone tries to get through to him, he acts very pigheaded and shuts down anyone.

He needs a serious reality check, and the only one who's capable of that is Heavy.

Once it finally sinks in, he just falls apart; sobbing, throwing equipment, etc.

Don't be shocked if he trashes his whole lab.

You're the only one who's able to calm him down.

Don't leave him alone for a second.

SNIPER

Mundy is almost as emotionless as they come.

...or at least that's how others perceive him.

Don't expect much of a reaction out of him, as disappointing as that sounds.

After everything passes, he'd try to go on with his daily life.

But once he's alone in his watchtower, his walls will finally crumble.

He can cry as much as he needs to in that space, because he knows no one can see him.

It's impressive how well he can hide his grief.

Just give him some time to be alone with his thoughts, and he'll come around on his own.

SPY

As the (unofficial) leader of the team, Spy feels as if he needs to set an example for everyone.

Death is a part of life, and time waits for no one.

He's pretty much in that final stage of grief almost immediately.

But just because he shows a lack of emotion, don't believe he doesn't care.

He's sad, don't get me wrong.

More than likely, he'd seclude himself in his smoking room.

Try to visit him whenever you're able to; it makes the situation less depressing for him.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 scout #tf2 solly #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demo #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engie #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy

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subsystems · 1 year ago

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hope sending ask is ok rn, i have hard time looking resource. looking for book how to co-exist with independent dissociative parts (have system but not feel safe in saying DID yet). cannot do therapist addressing parts yet but want to cope in daily life. hope can help. or others comment/reblog and give. thank you 🍀

This ask was sent a while ago, I hope you're doing okay now anon. You say you can't talk to a therapist yet but I hope you have someone else in your life who is supportive and you can talk to about these things! You shouldn't have to face this alone.

Even though you don't have therapeutic support, it's still possible to build up communication and cooperation with your parts. I reblog a lot of tips and resources to my coping tag if you want to check that out. Here are some other resources that you might find helpful:

DID/OSDD Self-help Masterlist There are so many resources here, categorized by different topics. You'll find stuff here for both survivors and loved ones, and you don't need to have DID/OSDD to use them!

Beauty After Bruises Blog You'll find so many articles here on coping with daily life as a dissociative survivor. I love how they're written, they feel very approachable and almost calming to read.

Dissociative Living Admittedly, I haven't read many of these articles but the few I've seen have been good. I think their writing is very approachable for people who are new to all of this.

DIS-SOS Lots of advice and informative articles on living with DID here -- in both English and German! I've found some really interesting and unique coping tips here, I definitely recommend it. It's actually because of this blog that I discovered one of my favorite methods of system communication.

CTAD Clinic Youtube Channel A channel run by the director of this clinic which specializes in dissociation and trauma. I've watched probably all of his videos -- they're very good! Lots of the videos provide tools and self-help tips on coping with dissociation & dissociative parts!

Carolyn Spring's Blog You'll find amazing articles here about trauma and dissociation, but do be aware that the author is both a professional and a survivor with DID herself. She isn't afraid to talk about her lived experience, shining a light on the reality of trauma and dissociation which can be confronting but oh-so empowering to read.

System Speak Podcast A podcast run by a DID system. She talks about her own healing journey as well as interviews professionals and dives into the psychology behind trauma and dissociation. Personally, I think the website is a bit hard to navigate but every podcast I've listened to has been extremely informative and relatable!

Self-help books can also be extremely useful if you don't have access to a therapist. You can find a bunch of free downloads here! I would recommend starting with "Got Parts? An Insider's Guide to Managing Life Successfully with Dissociative Identity Disorder" by ATW. Personally, I think this is the best book to start with. It's a bit old and there are some outdated ideas in it, but I think it's a very gentle entry into learning system communication and coping with DID if you have never worked with a therapist.

Some other resources that might be useful:

Strategies for coping with distressing voices

FREE 100 page e-book for trauma survivors

Talk/vent to listeners on this non-crisis support chat line

Apply for a grant to receive financial help or a therapy box -> (Also learn about the Therapy Box Project! If anyone is able to donate, please do!)

- Sunflower

#actuallydid #actuallyosdd #actuallytraumagenic #actuallydissociative #dissociation #complex trauma #resources #DID support #sunflower answers #once again i apologize for how long it takes me to reply to asks

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mythicmanuscripts · 11 months ago

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Omg a new writing blog for the fandoms I'm currently obsessed with who writes sub!characters content??? Already in love with your blog! I really like your work, especially the sub!Jace stuff and the daemyra poly hcs

(spoilers for 2x07 if you haven't seen it)

Could write some poly hc for Baela and Jace with a lowborn reader who became a dragonrider for team black because of Rhaenyra and Mysaria's plan? Maybe one who claimed Vermithor since the personnality of riders he seems to like would make for a fun dom!reader.

I feel like there would be a fun dynamic between reader and Jace since he isn't too thrilled about the new dragonriders, so quite different from the other things you wrote for him where he was into reader from the get go.

Also this fandom needs more Baela x reader content (I love her so much)

Thank you anon!! That's so nice to hear and yes you are very right we do need more Baela content!! This is such a cool concept! I'm gonna be tagging this with poly!Jace/baela so that if I write more about this, there's an easy way to search for it.

I'm gonna do headcannons about the relationship and how it started and while there definitely will be sub!Jace undertones and also implied sexual content, there's nothing explicit so no need to venture out past the cut this time! Though, if anyone wants NSFW headcannons for this or has some of their own, please let me know I'd love to hear it!!

-- so firstly, I think this works best of Jace and Baela were already married and also if Jace and Baela weren't properly in love yet?

-- sure they definitely like each other and are more than happy that their parents chose to wed them together, their dynamic is still closer to friends than husband and wife.

-- When you're able to get a dragon and join team black, Jace is not exactly thrilled. At first you really don't understand why he seems to detest you so much, but you just arrived and you know you have a lot to prove so you don't query it right away.

-- Baela, on the other hand, absolutely loves you from the get go. She takes one look at you and immediately knows that at the very least the two of you will become great friends.

-- And she's absolutely right of course.

-- you find yourself spending more time with Baela than with anyone else. You two train together, ride dragons together, sit with each other at meal times, etc.

-- of course at first this only serves to make Jace even more unhappy about you, because now it's like you've taken his wife on top of everything else.

-- Baela is the one who tries to get Jace to come around to the idea of you having a dragon and to be kinder towards you. Jace brushes her off, but she's determined and she won't give that easily.

-- Beala knew both you and Jace very well, and so she knew with 100% certainty that if Jace could get off the soapbox for one minute, he'd realise how great you are and you'd become fast friends.

-- While Baela is trying to get to stop being so stubborn, she's also confiding in you about her marriage. She likes Jace, and she could definitely see herself enjoying being with him, but she just feels so bland about it. She's not excited to spend the night with him, which isnt ideal since she's supposed to be making heirs.

-- You offer her advice and listen to her venting. More than once she has to stand up and leave before she stops being able to resist the temptation of kissing you, because you just seem to get her at a level that no one else does, and she wants you so bad, just as much as she wants Jace.

-- something big has to happen for Jace to finally wake up, and my immediate thought is that you save Baela? Baela is out on a scouting mission when Aemond manages to ambush her and if you hasn't shown up when you did, it's almost guaranteed that Baela and her dragon would have been no more.

-- Baela tells Jace this, and damnit as much as he doesn't like you, he has to go personally thank you because you did literally save his wife's life.

-- Jace is equal parts annoyed and relieved that when he spoke to you, you took his thanks graciously and then actually started a conversation that made him realise you're not so bad after all.

-- it becomes the three of you for a while after that.

-- I think you'd end up kissing Baela first, by that point you knew you had feelings for both of them, but there was no way you were going to pass up the opportunity when Baela initiates

-- you don't even have to go through trying to workout how to Jace because he actually walks in on it.

-- You're so certain you've just ruined Baela's marriage, but then Jace smiles and says, "Do I have to go... or can I stay? Because I want to stay, please?"

#poly!Jace/beala #jacaerys x reader #prince jacaerys #jace velaryon #jace targaryen #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys valaryon x reader #hotd jacaerys #baela targaryen #baela the brave #baela velaryon #jace x baela

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theheart-ofblackrock · 3 months ago

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It shall not be in vain!

General information

This blog's premise is a rather simple one, but one that I'm going to have fun with, and was prompted mostly by a friend! What if the Cruel King from Block Tales was Forsaken? Canon divergence inbound in droves, and plenty of personal headcanons, as well as worldbuilding and fun!

This is also a minor AU in base! This man is a dad, and you'll learn more as he interacts with people!

As the blog title suggests, his name is Aramond. He's not fond of being called "Cruel King".

This man has very visible chunks and spots of ice and frostbite on him, a leftover from the Dagger. He hates when people point these spots out repeatedly, and will often ignore when people do.

Despite what you may expect, Aramond is not a killer! Aramond is instead a Survivor, and a Sentinel at that!

Divider by @creativeinnovations. Not for personal use, even if I doubt you could find much use for it. 8+ years writing experience, crossovers welcomed, DMs always open to plot. Come say hi!

General Rules

You can flirt with him, I guess, but expect nothing in response. You'll get a quick dismissal at best.

Venting in the inbox will be deleted without hesitation. You can and will be blocked over it if it's bad enough.

Magic Anons welcomed, but can be turned down/ignored/shortened etc. as needed.

Tags

Again and again… | Self reblog

Person specific

I thought you'd be taller | Builderman Toxic plants and actions | Griefer

Anon tags

Bonus Information Fun extras because you bothered to come down here!

You can tell a lot about Aramond's mood by his posture and stance. It won't be said directly in most cases, unless enough people want a guide on it! he's very prone to actions over words, to tell how he's feeling in a given situation. Aramond is an open book, if you know how to read him.

I'll add his ref here once it's done!

he/him, straight, not looking for a relationship.

This man is straight from after he was killed. No nirvana for him. Still very mad about things.

+ Bonus layer of mad! He has beef with Griefer, though it may very well be one-sided.. Time will tell.

Extras - Ref will live here eventually + possibly more

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legacygirlingreen · 5 months ago

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"Tag" (A flashback) || Captain Rex x OFC Mae || Clone x OC Week 2025

Pairing: Captain Rex x OC Mae Killough (Bio HERE)

Word Count: 5.7k+

Rating: SFW

Warnings: honestly... can't think of anything. Tooth rotting fluff maybe?"

Author's Note: Day 2, let's go! This is a flash back to Rex's second trip to Pabu in which he spends some quality time with our favorite doctor. I hope this little fluffy moment before the Captain slips into denial over his feelings is a nice reprieve! Thanks again to @clonexocweek for organizing this event! Reminder this all exists within @leenathegreengirl 's Pabu AU! ~ M

Previous work | Chronological Next Work || Masterlist

Echo decided to take a last-minute detour. He couldn’t entirely blame him, though. Aiko had sounded distinctly unsettled over the transmitter, and while the issue might seem trivial to some, Echo wasn’t the type to let things slide. Rex didn’t mind the change of plans. After his first trip to the island, he’d found himself unexpectedly charmed by many things: the temperate climate, the stunning scenery, the peaceful atmosphere. And of course, the captivating doctor—

Ever since his first visit to Pabu, her kindness had quietly lingered in his thoughts. It even found its way into his daily life, hanging around his neck. That little piece of glass she’d given him? He’d never been able to take it off. Something about it just fit. Maybe it was the color, which reminded him of 501 blue. Or maybe it was simply the fact that it was the first gift he’d ever received that had nothing to do with his life as a soldier. Rex wasn’t entirely sure. But one thing was clear: he liked it. And he enjoyed her company even more.

When he’d given her his comm channel, he hadn’t expected her to actually use it. But she did—frequently. And soon enough, he discovered she was just as quick-witted as she was kind. She opened up about the little details of her life, and in turn, he shared his. She vented about long days at work—he couldn’t help but offer a similar complaint, albeit with the unfortunate addition of being shot at. There was something about the way she mixed playful banter with a deep sense of respect that felt refreshing. In her, he found a kindred spirit.

That said, he hadn’t quite found the time to visit again. Despite his best intentions, he’d been pulled into the whirlwind of responsibilities following Senator Organa’s agreement to join their cause. The senator’s connections and resources were proving invaluable in his mission to save as many of his brothers as possible. But all those new opportunities came at a cost: time. Time he didn’t have to spare for trips to distant islands or for the company of pretty doctors, no matter how much he wanted to.

Still, there was something comforting about the thought of her. Even in the midst of his increasingly hectic life, he couldn’t deny the small moments he spent conversing with her over com had become a much-needed reprieve. In her, he’d found more than just someone to talk to. She had become a friend—a rare connection he could hold on to in a world that often felt overwhelmingly solitary.

He couldn’t really fault Echo for insisting on stopping by to check on Aiko. In fact, it gave him a legitimate excuse to see his friend. He didn’t think anyone knew they were on the island, especially since he was able to navigate the streets without Omega’s excited cheers or the familiar presence of their brothers. Echo had made his way back to the house, but Rex knew Mae would likely still be at the clinic. For some reason, her work always seemed endless, as if she never truly left it behind.

The only light in the building came from the office, leaving the main area shrouded in darkness, still and empty. As Rex quietly slipped inside, a wave of uncertainty washed over him. He hoped his presence wouldn’t be unwelcome, but suddenly, he felt… nervous. There was no real reason to be, of course. But something about seeing her in person again felt like a daunting task. Despite having shared much information about him, including the trauma of Umbara—the darkest chapter of their deployments—there was still a certain comfort in communicating across distance. It was easier, less complicated. The idea of standing face-to-face with her again, however, felt weighty, almost overwhelming.

Before he could fully process his own hesitations, the door to the office swung open, and in an instant, panic set in. He instinctively took a step back, heart pounding, but then—chaos.

"Halt, intruder!" came the mechanical shout, followed by a flash of metal. It was AZI. Rex froze. He knew the Kaminonian droid had been assisting Mae, but he hadn’t anticipated being assaulted by a flying heap of circuits and gears, especially not while preparing to knock.

As AZI whizzed past him, Rex ducked instinctively, narrowly avoiding the droid’s enthusiastic attack. His heart raced, but just as he thought things couldn’t get more chaotic, Mae's voice rang out from the office.

“AZI, did you get em’?” Her tone was concerned and slightly frightened. Rex watched as she peaked her head out into the hall. In her arms was a large stick. Soon her eyes settled onto him, shifting from fear to surprise. The droid promptly stopped in midair, hovering awkwardly, as if unsure whether to continue its assault or obey.

Mae’s gaze shifted back to Rex, her lips parting in surprise. “Rex?” Her voice was softer than usual, a little more vulnerable. “What—what are you doing here?”

For a moment, Rex was taken aback by the genuine warmth in her expression. He’d half-expected a more formal greeting, but instead, she looked relieved—as if seeing him was a pleasant, unexpected surprise. The tension that had been tight in his chest loosened just a little.

“I… uh, I- Well Echo was checking on Aiko so I thought I’d give them space, and thought why not come check on how you’ve been…” he explained, his words still a little rushed, but the nervousness in his voice fading with each second he spent in her presence.

Mae blinked, the surprise quickly transforming into a soft, bright smile that lit up her face. “You came all the way here just to check in on me?” She took a step forward, her surprise giving way to an evident happiness, the lines of her face relaxing as she scanned him. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” she admitted, her voice light, almost teasing, but her eyes sparkled with genuine warmth.

Rex wasn’t sure why it made him feel lighter, but it did. The weight that had settled in his chest when he first arrived seemed to lift, replaced by something comforting, something warmer. She was happy to see him. He could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her voice softened when she spoke.

He scratched the back of his neck, a half-hearted attempt to seem casual. “I know, I didn’t plan on interrupting anything, certainly not scaring you. I just thought it might be better to see you in person instead of just… over a screen or transmission.”

Her smile only widened at that, and she took another step closer, almost closing the distance between them. “Well, I’m glad you did,” she said, her tone gentle and full of sincerity. “It’s a nice surprise.”

Rex didn’t realize how much he’d been hoping for that until the moment it happened. A genuine smile, an unspoken warmth between them. It felt easier, this time, to be here. Standing in the same room. Facing her.

“You’ve been working late?” he asked, gesturing to the office behind her, where the dim light was still on.

Mae nodded, running a hand through her hair, looking a little sheepish. “Yeah, it’s been a long day.” She paused for a second, her smile shifting to something more thoughtful. “I didn’t expect you to drop by like this.”

“I can always come back another time,” Rex started, hesitant, as he thought about the disruption his visit might have caused. “I’m sure Echo will stay for the night—”

“No, don’t be silly.” Mae quickly dismissed his concern with a soft smile. “I was planning to make some caf and settle in for a quiet evening anyway. But… these reports can wait until tomorrow.” She paused, tapping the edge of the stick she’d been holding against the wall, her gaze thoughtful. “It’s not a problem at all.”

Rex hesitated, his voice sincere. “Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you from something important.”

Mae met his eyes, her expression firm and reassuring. “It can wait,” she assured him, setting the stick down and flicking the light switch before stepping into the hall. “So, Echo came to check on Aiko?”

Rex nodded, his brow furrowed in concern. “Yes, he was worried about her. She seems—”

“Stressed?” Mae finished for him, her tone soft, understanding. “She’s been carrying a lot lately. It’s not really my place to get into their business, but I’m glad Echo came. I don’t think anything I could’ve said would’ve eased her mind. Having him here will help.” She paused for a moment, then offered him a smile that was warm, but a little wistful. “That said, maybe we should give them some space... How about a walk by the water?”

Rex considered her suggestion, the idea of spending time with Mae alone weighing on him in unexpected ways. It was already dark by the time they’d reach the shoreline, and the thought of walking down by the ocean with her, when most of the island was silent and asleep, stirred something deep in him. On one hand, it was exactly what he needed—a quiet moment away from everything.

But on the other hand, the solitude of the night brought a kind of vulnerability he wasn’t used to. Being with her felt like a balance between longing and caution, the kind of tension that made him feel both alive and uneasy. He could already imagine the silence between them, the gentle rush of the waves in the background, and how they might both slip into that unspoken intimacy without the distractions of the world around them. His pulse quickened, both excited by the prospect of being alone with her and apprehensive about how easily things could shift. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for whatever might come of it, but the pull to be with her was undeniable.

He glanced at Mae, trying to gauge if she felt the same way. Her expression was relaxed, almost expectant, as though this wasn’t a big deal for her. She seemed so at ease with the whole idea, which made Rex’s apprehension all the more pronounced. He wasn’t used to letting down his guard so easily, especially not with someone he was starting to care about in ways he couldn’t fully understand.

"I guess a walk could be nice," he said, his voice a little rougher than he'd intended. "Quiet, though. Just... the ocean and us." His words hung in the air, and for a moment, he wondered if he had sounded too eager or too uncertain.

Mae smiled at him, and for a second, it was as if the world outside of them didn’t matter. Her eyes held a spark of something—curiosity, maybe, or maybe it was something deeper, something he couldn’t quite read. "Sounds nice," she replied softly, her gaze meeting his brown eyes with a knowing warmth that made his chest tighten.

He felt a little foolish for worrying at all. This was just a walk. But as he stood there, facing her, the anticipation of it—the closeness they would share—felt like something more. The tension between them was palpable now, even if it wasn’t acknowledged out loud. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little excited. Despite the uncertainty that simmered beneath the surface, something about being with her felt like it might be exactly what he needed.

"Alright then," Rex said, managing a half-smile, even as his heart picked up its pace. "Let’s go."

As they walked toward the path leading down to the water, the sound of the waves growing louder with each step, Rex’s thoughts settled into a strange, quiet place. This was uncharted territory for him. But for the first time in a long while, he wasn’t afraid to see where it might lead.

They fell into step beside each other, the soft crunch of sand beneath their feet the only sound accompanying their walk. The night air was cool, and a faint breeze ruffled the edges of Mae’s hair, the strands catching in the low light of the moon. Rex found himself stealing glances at her—at the way she moved, so effortlessly calm, as though she had all the time in the world. The silence between them was comfortable, but Rex could feel the weight of the moments stretching out in front of him.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The ocean waves lapped at the shore, rhythmic and soothing, and Rex’s thoughts wandered. He couldn’t deny the pull he felt, how he was drawn to her with every step they took closer to the water.

But still, there was something unsettling about it all—the quiet, the intimacy of the walk, the way his heart kept picking up speed every time Mae’s gaze flickered toward him. He wanted to say something, to break the tension, but his mind stumbled over the words. The idea of being with her felt like it could tip into something more, something he wasn’t sure he was ready for, and that uncertainty gnawed at him.

Mae must’ve sensed his internal struggle. Without looking at him, she spoke, her voice soft and even, as though she were testing the waters. "You know, I think sometimes we forget how much we need moments like this. Just… time to breathe."

Rex nodded, his throat tight. "Yeah. It’s easy to forget, with everything going on. But... this feels different, in a good way."

Her eyes met his then, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. "I’m glad."

The words were simple, but they settled over him like a warm blanket. Despite the apprehension swirling in his chest, something in her smile made him feel… seen. Not just for who he was in the moment, but for all the things he had buried under layers of stress and distance. He felt a shift then—like the weight of the world had lifted just a little. Maybe he didn’t need to figure everything out all at once. Maybe he didn’t have to have all the answers. Tonight wasn’t about solving anything. It was just about being.

A soft laugh escaped him before he could stop it, surprising himself. "Funny. I’ve been running around trying to fix everything, and all I needed was this." He gestured around them, toward the night sky, the quiet beach, and most of all, her.

Mae’s smile widened at that, her eyes softening with something that almost looked like understanding. "Sometimes, all we need is to stop running. Let ourselves just… be."

They walked in silence again, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable kind this time. It was a silence that felt easy, the kind you shared with someone when you didn’t need words to fill the space between you. For the first time in what felt like forever, Rex let himself relax, the weight of his thoughts drifting away as they walked side by side.

The night stretched out before them, vast and full of possibilities, and in this moment, Rex found himself wondering if he was ready to stop running from whatever this—whatever they—could be.

Rex took a deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs in a way that was both calming and grounding. The sound of the ocean seemed to match the rhythm of his thoughts, steady and soothing. Mae was walking beside him, and for the first time in a while, he allowed himself to let go of the constant hum of responsibility that usually occupied his mind.

Still, there was a nervous energy inside him, an unease that didn’t quite dissipate. His heart would pick up speed every time their shoulders brushed, every time her gaze flickered toward him. He wanted to fill the space with words, something to lighten the tension, but he couldn’t find the right thing to say. The quiet between them felt more intimate than it should have, and yet, it was strangely comforting.

Mae seemed to sense his internal struggle again. She glanced at him, her expression a little softer this time. “You ever notice how the hardest part isn’t even the work or the responsibilities? It’s just... giving yourself a break, actually letting yourself take it.”

Rex let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that. We’re so used to running, we forget how to walk... slow down.”

She smiled, the kind of smile that made him feel like she really understood. He glanced over at her, hesitant, but then something in him shifted. Maybe it was the weight of the evening, the stillness, the way the stars seemed to blink down at them like silent witnesses. Maybe it was the fact that she wasn’t pressing him to open up, just walking beside him, letting him take his time.

He decided to give it a shot, let a little of the tension in his chest slip out.

“I remember something from my time in the war,” Rex began, his voice casual, as if he were talking about an old story. He couldn’t help the way the past sometimes resurfaced when he least expected it. “We’d been stuck in this remote outpost for days. No real breaks, no downtime. Just... constant motion. You’d think it’d be a bad thing, right? But one night, the whole unit got permission to just... sit by the fire. No orders, no targets, nothing but the fire and the night.”

Mae’s gaze softened, her full attention on him now. “That sounds rare.”

“It was,” Rex said with a nod. “We were used to working at full speed, and then, for once, we were told to take a breath. And I’ll tell you, it felt strange at first. Like I didn’t know how to just... exist. You’re so used to going all the time that the quiet, when it hits, feels like something you have to fight against.”

Mae’s brow furrowed a little, curiosity piqued. “What did you do?”

Rex smirked slightly. “Well, we sat there. No one said anything for a long time. Then one of the guys pulled out a radio. I don’t know where it came from—they weren’t allowed in the field. But he started playing the long range clone broadcast, and the rest of us just listened to whatever songs play, just laughing and talking, forgetting about the war for a bit.” He let out a small, almost surprised laugh at the memory. “We weren’t in combat, we weren’t worried about what was coming next. We were just there. And it felt... good. Really good.”

Mae’s expression softened, and her voice was gentle when she spoke. “Sounds like you needed that. A moment just to... breathe.”

“I did,” Rex said, the smile lingering as he looked at the ocean, as though he could still hear the echoes of that long-forgotten night.

Mae nodded, her eyes thoughtful. “Me too,”

Her words settled in his chest like a quiet promise. Rex let the silence stretch between them once more, this time without the anxiety he usually carried. He didn’t need to fill it with anything.

After a few moments, Mae broke the silence with a playful smack to his bicep. Before he could even react, she broke into a run, her laughter floating back to him. “Tag, you’re it!” Rex blinked, surprised at the sudden burst of energy. Tag? He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or protest, but he found himself caught up in the playfulness of it all.

Mae was quick—surprisingly quick—but Rex knew he wasn’t going to have much trouble catching her. The sand made it harder to get any real speed, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve.

He started after her, and it wasn’t long before he was closing the gap. Mae’s laughter rang out as she zigzagged through the sand, trying to throw him off. But Rex had been trained for speed. His long legs carried him easily, his body slipping into an effortless rhythm. Mae glanced back over her shoulder, clearly underestimating how fast he could move. “You’re not even trying!” she called, already out of breath.

Rex’s chuckle rumbled through the air, light and teasing. “I’m just warming up.”

Before Mae could even react, he closed the distance in two long strides, his boots kicking up sand as his eyes fixed on her, tracking every movement. He could practically sense the moment she realized how much ground she had lost—the sudden shift in her pace, the hesitation in her step. But it was too late.

In an instant, Rex reached out, his hands sliding effortlessly around her waist from behind. He didn’t even hesitate as he lifted her off the ground. His grip was sure, his arms strong, and in one fluid motion, he had her swept up into his embrace, her feet dangling in midair. It was as if time slowed for just a heartbeat, her body pressed against his with an ease that made her gasp in surprise.

“Gotcha,” Rex murmured, his voice warm with amusement as he looked down at her, his playful grin never wavering. Mae let out a surprised yelp, her laughter blending with her mild shock. The thrill of the chase still thrummed in his chest, his heart beating fast from the rush, but the feel of her in his arms, this close, added a whole new layer to the excitement.

Mae squirmed in his arms, half-laughing, half-annoyed. “No fair! I was winning!” she protested, but her smile was wide, her breath coming in quick bursts as she tried to squirm away.

“You started it,” he teased, his voice low and playful, the thrill of the chase still lingering in the air between them. His heart hammered in his chest, but it wasn’t from exertion. It was something else, something deeper that he couldn’t quite put into words.

Mae gave him a mock pout, the corners of her lips curling in that adorable way he always found irresistible. “You’re a cheater.”

Rex couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face, his gaze softening as he looked down at her. Her words were playful, but there was something else there—something unspoken in her eyes. His grin softened too, just a bit, as he let his thumb trace the outline of her side through the fabric of her shirt.

“I’m just fast. There’s a difference,” he said with a wink, his voice teasing but affectionate. The playful tone lingered between them, but there was a quiet warmth in the air as their gazes met.

Mae’s squirming slowed as she relaxed into his hold, a breathless laugh slipping from her lips. Her hands came to rest lightly against his forearms, her fingers curling slightly in the fabric of his sleeve, as though grounding herself in the moment. “Fine, fine. You win this time,” she said, her voice light, surrendering to the game.

For a moment, Rex held her there, his heart still racing, but his mind slowing down as he took in the feel of her in his arms. She was warm, close, her scent—the soft fragrance of jasmine and something sweeter—clinging to the air between them. He didn’t want to let go just yet.

Slowly, he began to lower her down, his hands lingering on her waist as he gently set her feet back on the sand. But he didn’t release her immediately. He kept her there for a second longer, feeling the steady thrum of her pulse beneath his fingertips, the subtle rhythm that matched his own. It wasn’t just the chase he had won—it was the moment.

When he finally let her go, his fingers lingered for a heartbeat too long before dropping to his sides. He took a slow breath, noticing the faint trace of her perfume still lingering in the air, the scent mixing with the cool night breeze. It made the moment feel even more intimate, a quiet connection between them that neither of them had spoken aloud.

Rex met her gaze, his smile lingering as he stepped back just enough to give her space. “Next time, I’ll let you have a head start,” he teased, but the underlying sincerity in his tone was unmistakable. Something had shifted between them, and he wasn’t sure what it meant, but he didn’t mind.

Mae’s smile softened, her eyes gleaming with something unspoken, before she scoffed playfully. “I don’t need a head start…” she said, her voice light, but there was a knowing undertone to it. The admission was wrapped in childlike defiance, and it made Rex’s heart skip a beat. Something about that vulnerability, the way she danced around the truth but still let him in, made him smile without even thinking.

Rex raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling upward in that mischievous way she was beginning to find endearing. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night,” he teased, his voice warm and light.

Mae gave him an exaggerated roll of her eyes, a grin tugging at her lips as she turned toward the water, the sound of the waves adding a peaceful backdrop to their exchange. “Speaking of sleep…” she hummed, her voice trailing off as she gazed out over the shimmering ocean, her thoughts clearly drifting. “You think we should head back, or…?”

For a moment, Rex didn’t answer, simply taking in the sight of her—her posture relaxed, her hair tousled from the game, the way the soft moonlight bathed her face. He didn’t want to rush the moment, and yet, he wasn’t ready to leave just yet either.

He stepped a little closer, his voice soft but sincere. “I don’t know... I’m actually enjoying this,” he admitted, the words surprising even him as they slipped out. He wasn’t sure why, but there was something about the quiet night, the solitude of being with her, that made everything feel... right. “Spending time with you,” he added, letting his gaze linger on her profile, as though trying to convey what he couldn’t put into words.

Mae’s gaze softened at his words, her smile turning more tender as she turned to face him. She didn’t say anything at first, simply meeting his eyes with that same unspoken understanding, the kind that seemed to fill the spaces between their words. Before she could respond, the soft beep of Rex’s comm broke the quiet tension between them, cutting through the moment with a sharpness that felt almost jarring. He frowned slightly, reluctantly pulling his wrist up to answer.

"Yeah?" Rex said, his voice a little less steady, as though he didn’t want to break the connection between them just yet.

“Rex, where are you?” Echo’s voice came through, faint but clearly laced with concern. “It’s getting dark, and you haven’t checked in. And, uh... you know Mae hasn’t come home either—” Echo’s voice faltered for a second, clearly not used to being the one on the other end of an unspoken silence.

Rex sighed softly, glancing at Mae before giving her a small, apologetic smile. He was still hesitant, unwilling to pull away from this quiet moment with her. “Yeah, we’re fine,” Rex replied, his voice casual. "We're out here... just on the beach. Nothing to worry about." He didn’t want to say too much, not with the warmth of the moment still hanging between them.

Echo’s voice came back, quieter this time, but still laced with a subtle mix of concern and irritation. “Look, you don’t have to avoid the house or anything, but… It’s getting late, and someone needs to find Ma—” Echo suddenly stopped himself. Rex could hear the realization clicking into place. The silence stretched for a second, and Rex could practically feel the shift in the air.

"Wait," Echo continued, his tone now tinged with something else. “...You're with Mae. Alone. On the beach.” There was a brief pause before he added, “You know what? Never mind. You two have fun.”

The sharp click of the call ending was almost immediate, and Rex stood there, staring at the now-silent comm, the weight of Echo’s implications settling in. He looked up at Mae, his heart still pounding a little faster than it probably should be.

“That went well,” Rex muttered, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, even as a faint blush crept up his neck.

Mae’s expression was a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something playful and knowing. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms loosely over her chest. “Well, I guess we’ve officially been caught.”

Rex chuckled, stepping a little closer, though he didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead, he allowed the moment to settle again, the hum of the waves and the soft moonlight wrapping around them both. He found himself unwilling to break the silence too quickly this time, as though letting the sound of the ocean could fill in the spaces where words didn’t need to go.

“I guess we should head back,” Mae said after a beat, the hint of a smile still playing at her lips. But there was something different in the way she said it this time, something a little less certain than before, as though she wasn’t so sure about leaving just yet either.

Rex’s gaze softened, the playful grin still present, though it was tempered by the sincerity in his voice. “Yeah, I think we should... But I’m in no rush.”

Mae’s smile widened, and she took a small step closer to him. “Neither am I.”

The ocean breeze suddenly picked up, a strong gust that whipped through the night air, carrying with it a hint of chill that caught Mae off guard. She shivered slightly, her arms folding across herself instinctively. Rex noticed the subtle change in her posture—the way she had grown just a little more distant, her body reacting to the unexpected cold.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice soft, the concern there before he could even think twice.

“A little,” she admitted, her voice trailing off as she gave a half-smile, still feeling the bite of the wind. Before she could even consider moving away, Rex reached out. His arm encircled her waist, drawing her a little closer to him. The warmth of his touch was instant, and Mae felt her body relax slightly, the chill receding in the softness of his embrace.

When she didn’t pull away, Rex let his hold loosen just a fraction, wanting to make sure she felt comfortable. “Better?�� he asked, his voice lower now, just above a whisper, as though any louder might break the sweetness of the moment.

Mae nodded, her smile softening. “Much better.”

The cool evening air no longer seemed as biting, but something else shifted in the space between them, something that felt like it went beyond the mere proximity of their bodies. The breeze seemed to carry a charge of its own, mingling with the unspoken understanding that lingered between them. There was a subtle tension, a sweet uncertainty in the air, like a question that hadn’t yet been asked but was sitting there, waiting to be acknowledged.

Rex could feel the steady rise and fall of her breath against him, the warmth of her presence making him want to hold on to the moment for just a little longer. The moonlight softened her features, casting a glow on her face that made her seem almost ethereal. His fingers tingled, wanting to reach out and maybe get a better hold on her, but instead, he leaned in slightly, drawn by the pull of the moment.

He wasn’t sure what possessed him to do it either. It’s not like he’d ever really attempted to do it previously. At least in this context. The more sweet, and wholesome pretense of showing appreciation and care, and not conveying a need or a want. His lips brushed against her cheek, just next to her ear, a playful, quick kiss that lingered only for a second. But in that instant, something in Rex’s chest fluttered, and he pulled back just enough to look at her, the air between them suddenly feeling impossibly delicate. His lips curved into a teasing smile, but there was something deeper in his eyes now—a warmth, an earnestness that hadn’t been there before.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a sincerity he hadn’t intended. “It’s been... a pleasant evening.”

Mae blinked at him, the playful spark still present in her eyes, but now softened with something else—something that spoke volumes in the way she gazed at him. She reached up, her fingertips brushing the spot where his lips had just touched her cheek, as though to keep the moment with her.

Her voice dropped lower, the usual lighthearted tone replaced by something sweeter, more intimate. “I’m glad,” she said, her gaze unwavering, and for a split second, it felt as though time itself slowed down around them. “Thank you for getting me out from behind that desk,”

The silence between them lingered for just a moment longer, a comfortable, easy space where words weren’t necessary. Rex couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips as he glanced at Mae, the feeling of contentment settling over him like a warm blanket. He let out a soft, almost relieved chuckle as he finally spoke, his voice light but affectionate. “Alright, I guess we should really head back before Echo gets any ideas.”

Mae’s laugh, light and musical, filled the air between them. It was the kind of sound that seemed to harmonize perfectly with the rhythm of the waves, the breeze, the calm of the night. “Yeah, we don’t want to give him more ammunition,” she teased, her voice still carrying that easy, playful tone.

Rex smiled even wider, the warmth of the moment seeping into him as they began walking side by side. The air between them, charged just moments ago with something unspoken, now felt simple, familiar. Just two friends, walking together after a night that felt effortless—peaceful, genuine, with no expectations. He didn’t feel the need to analyze it, not now. There was something beautiful in the quiet company of someone you enjoyed being around, and for tonight, that was enough.

And in that simple truth, he couldn’t help but feel grateful.

#clonexocweek #clonexocweek2025 #clonexocweek2025 day 2 #captain rex x oc #pabu au #the clone wars au #captain rex #mae killough

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spilling-my-guts-to-you-guyss · 5 months ago

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New intro post cuz the other one is shit

Reminders for me-

Gift from ellia [then i drew it] Symbolism and shit <js for me ig> 1 year anniversary Notes challenge Thinking about my past attempt vent art...

Time since last relapse: 8 weeks 6 days

Hey guys, lore drop ig, I'll be explaining it straightforward, so trigger warnings

Also not tagging my main account, but if you search deep enough here, youll find it

Minor, Christian, Ex-suicidal, struggling with self harm, Have several physical and probably mental problems, BUT here to help where I can

Minor: i am a minor, 16 to be precise. And to be honest, i domt care what ysll do here. I dont care if youre mean or nice, or anything. If you help, thank you so much. If you dont, well im still glad youre here. The only real rule is please dont be sexually explicit or freaky in thst nature. This is a serious blog to me. Christian: I am a Christian. I have grown in religion, yet only in the past 2 years have i really grown closer to God. My past life was... terrible in a sense. Not because of family or friemds, just myself. God saved me countless times from Satan, from myself. In still figuring out some things, still wondering about my purpose... but hopefully things will be cleared up soon. Ex-suicidal: i will explain explicitly so beware- I've attempted may 25th 2024 i belive. It was a Saturday, and it was by attempted overdose. I tried with 55 pills (a variety), thinking that might be enough. But surely it wasn't, and i lived. If taken 5-10 more though, then things would've been serious. Anyways, I'm still somewhat affected by it. I can't take pills without feeling gross after, and any mention of suicide or even the words related to it maks me a bit uncomfortable. Still struggling with thoughts on my life, but i will not attempt again. I wouldn't dare. Self Harm: Started this around January February last year (2024), and just progressively grew worse... was first hangnail picking then using nail cutters on my skin, then tweezers, box knives, and carving knives. spread all over my body in small splotches; arms, wrist, thigh, ankles. Its grown so bad that i feel no affects of it any longer. No pain, yet also no relief. It's an addiction in trying to stop... i am getting help though. Ill put a "time since relapse" cohnt up there, as you have seen Problems: ive got suspected autism and adhd, and I'm actually gonna get a psych evaluation for this soon. But anyways, also suspected depression. (Update, was diagnosed with dmdd) Was also diagnosed with coccygodynia (chronic tailbone pain) after an accident, and overall i have shrimp posture. Not kidding about that too, it's fucking terrible. Also I'm quite overweight and it's a self conscious thing. Plus my jaw problems... I've got plenty things wrobg with me physically as much s mentally. Helping: yeah I made this alt account to get help, i do need it... BUT im also here for you guys! remmeber always that you are loved, people care for you! i dont wanna give the cliche "life gets better" shit, because sometimes it doesnt. But just because it doesnt get better doesnt mean it will never. I care for you and yall can talk to me, Ill try my best to help where I can. Remember again! I love you, God loves you, people inthe world care for you.

People who know my shit

Online- the-ellia-west, gekowo, sunflowerrosy (deactivated), homelessnerd, inspirationallybored, likeadeadbattery, bees-with-a-camera, write-with-will

In person- lwkjsfloating (deactivated) (sis), theweirbox123 (friend), potatoeperson33 (friend), bamboozled-08orange (froend), mom

Thanks for reading if yall really did, I know its a lot.

have a great day or night, get rest and always remember

YOU ARE LOVED

#tw sui talk #tw sh related #pinned intro #personal vent #vent #idk #you are loved #God loves you

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justpostingsh1t · 15 days ago

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long post on why i don't like the term ‘RAMCOA’ and what it represents

the term RAMCOA stands for 'ritual abuse, mind control, organized abuse.' it's not used much in clinical settings as far as i can tell, but is common in online communities like tumblr, tiktok, and reddit for people with DID and OSDD. i have DID and was put through what you could call organized abuse, and anonymous vent asks i've sent on this site have been tagged as RAMCOA. personally i prefer referring to what i went through as trafficking, or in the way i did back then, that i was a child prostitute. that said you don't need to be an abuse survivor to recognize the problems with this term and the narrative around it, but i figure i should establish my 'survivor cred' before i begin.

RAMCOA is a modern successor to the term SRA, or 'satanic ritual abuse.' it's heavily tied to a group known as the international society for the study of trauma and dissociation (ISSTD), the wikipedia article for which opens by describing it as a "controversial nonprofit professional organization." the ISSTD specifically has a group called the RAMCOA special interest group for promoting this concept. the ISSTD itself has shifted to using OEA (organized extreme abuse) rather than RAMCOA, but the latter is still commonly used online. for the purpose of this post though i'd like to divorce the term of its connections to the ISSTD as well as the various conspiracies that emerged after the satanic panic in the 80s and just look at what's being said in the current year, and why that's still a conspiracy theory.

although RAMCOA is an acronym encompassing a variety of forms of abuse, it seems to be primarily used to describe a form of sexual abuse in which the victim is 'programmed' via torture to develop DID. this involves creating alters which are blank slates for abusers to do whatever they want with. there are various types of 'programs' named after the types of brainwaves like beta, alpha, epsilon, etc. essentially this is suggesting that it's possible to make someone have DID on purpose, and that said DID can be used to turn a child into a mind controlled sex slave. proponents of RAMCOA suggest that there are organized secret societies (primarily within american religious institutions it seems) that have been practicing programming for generations, and that this a common tactic in the realm of commercial sexual exploitation of children (CSEC) to keep their victims loyal and silent. proponents further suggest that these groups are composed of people who have been programmed themselves and have mind controlled alters that perpetrate abuse on their victims. going by this narrative one would believe that there is an underbelly of society composed of people who have dissociative disorders and are part of inter-generational incestuous cults that bare children solely for the purpose of putting them through this treatment. they further suggest that these societies are incredibly wealthy and influential, and have co-opted the law to help cover up their abuse. these societies usually have a religious or occult element to them, which will be reflected in the victims' alters and inner world. proponents are adamant that we should not share any details on programming and how it is done, and that victims should remain secretive about their identity and location to avoid their abusers and prevent them from remotely triggering programs via the internet.

this is problematic for many reasons. child exploitation rings absolutely exist, and not infrequently embed themselves in religious institutions. see this recent case from new orleans as an example. there is even a real life satanic ring called the order of nine angles (ONA), which grooms victims using occult imagery and neo-nazi ideology. the ONA however is a very modern phenomenon, and only came into existence in the 1980s. it claims to have been founded in the 60s, but record of it only exists since the early 80s. it only began committing crimes in the 90s, and the first arrests of people distributing CSAM and perpetrating CSA within the group began in the late 2010s. it's possible it was involved in the CSEC industry longer than this, but personally i find this unlikely considering anti-fascists have been aware of and cataloging the ONA since its emergence in the 80s. the ONA recruits victims over the internet on places like roblox, and uses the same tactics online groomers everywhere use. numerous ONA members have been arrested and tried for their crimes, and none of these arrests have uncovered literature or instructions on how to 'program' children, because that's not how they operate. they simply use basic emotional manipulation and sextortion like all online pedophiles do. if any group was practicing 'programming' it would be this one, and yet there is no evidence it has done so. it can hardly be called 'inter-generational,' considering most members are teenagers or young adults.

the RAMCOA narrative suggests that people with dissociative disorders are a unique underclass within society. it suggests that we are exceptional and the result of CSEC that is undetectable and unnoticed by wider society. it's a convenient narrative if you are someone looking to gain clout within the online DID community, as now people are expected to listen to you to avoid 'disrespecting survivors.' the narrative suggests that victims need to be 'de-programmed' by a therapist who specializes in RAMCOA. since most therapists and psychiatrists know very little about DID and OSDD, victims are thus encouraged to end up in insular online communities that promote the RAMCOA narrative, and it doesn't take much digging to see that these sorts of discord servers and group chats are filled with drama and infighting like most online communities in the modern day. being a 'RAMCOA' survivor is a convenient bludgeon to wield against your enemies in the current discourse, whether those are endos or anti-endos or whoever else. the RAMCOA narrative is also problematic for the suggestion that torture and sexual abuse always cause a dissociative disorder. medical research on these disorders is scant in general, and some instead believe in the 'sociocognitive model' which suggests they come from things other than childhood trauma. likewise victims of CSEC are not guaranteed to develop DID, and people respond to this trauma in a variety of different ways. if purposefully inducing DID in victims was as common as proponents claim, i would expect it show up more in literature on survivors of CSA and trafficking. perhaps these studies just lump it together with PTSD, but that seems unlikely to me.

it's a frustrating narrative because it's so close to the truth. CSEC and CSA are very real, and are often perpetrated by family members against their own children just as i've seen in most RAMCOA testimonies. one part of RAMCOA people mention a lot is 'scripts,' which are apparently pieces of media like the wizard of oz or alice in wonderland that can be used as a guide for programming. i haven't been able to find any non-anecdotal evidence of this, but there was a CSEC ring known as the 'wonderland club' that existed in the 90s. as far as i can tell this group never used any kind of 'programming,' though police were only able to identify a small number of their victims, one of whom went missing a long time before the club was caught. reading about RAMCOA you often see echoes of the truth distorted into a conspiracy. the testimonies i've read about RAMCOA generally describe what is actually known as familial trafficking, where parents prostitute children to people in their local community. the RAMCOA narrative portrays this as much grander than it really is. children are often trafficked to fulfill a drug addiction, or are coerced into becoming addicted themselves. the majority of the time the mother is the primary trafficker. it often runs in the family, and in many cases the trafficker has been involved in prostitution themselves. the motivation most of the time is simply money or substance abuse, rather than the family being an inter-generational incestuous cult. familial trafficking is nothing more than families exploiting their children for material gain, something encouraged in many ways by capitalism. here's my source for all this.

this narrative only makes sense if you believe that there is a deliberate conspiracy to cover up the existence of RAMCOA and discredit survivors, which would require allies in high places in the government and law enforcement. the unfortunate truth is that CSEC is a taboo subject and people are uncomfortable studying it, and law enforcement in most of the world is wildly corrupt and unequipped to handle this problem. there is no deliberate conspiracy nor are there programming societies with as much influence as the CIA. instead perpetrators of CSEC target children who are already abandoned by society and are unlikely to be believed. major government and religious institutions are not controlled by the CSEC industry; instead CSEC rings operate within the corrupt segments of them in plain sight while being careful to avoid the eyes of the law, and if that eye ever falls on them they are quickly punished. the sort of gigantic inter-generational societies supposedly programming people would be impractical if one is looking to avoid detection. i have yet to find a RAMCOA testimony in which one claims to be a low-level member of one of these societies. it's pretty much always that the victim was a child of a high-ranking member and was being groomed to end up like their abusers, yet was able to escape unlike their parents. in the dozens of RAMCOA testimonies i've read i've come across a grand total of 3 transfeminine people claiming to be a victim of this (one of whom instead described it as SRA). trans women are at an incredibly high risk of being trafficked or forced into sex work. anecdotally my ex girlfriend came very close to being trafficked, and i was myself as a kid. even with the demographics of tumblr i would expect to see more transfems claiming to be RAMCOA victims, and yet there is absolutely nothing. that is extremely suspect to me, but perhaps is just a result of transmisogyny in the DID community. either way, not a good look.

i apologize if i've come across as callous here. i absolutely believe that every victim of 'RAMCOA' is a victim of CSA or CSEC in some form; these things really are that common, and most cases go unreported. that being said i'll acknowledge for myself at least i was very young when i went through CSEC, and i'm not even sure what happened myself. people with DID and OSDD are very likely to experience psychosis and delusions; i often have auditory hallucinations. i'm fully expecting that when i finally work up the courage to get the law involved the details will most likely not match the things i remember. different alters tell me different versions of what happened, and i mostly remember vibes and sensations. a lot of piecing together my story has been pure guesswork and speculation. i think it's important to recognize that we as survivors are not infallible and can fall for false narratives. i doubt what i've written here will convince anyone peddling the RAMCOA narrative to stop, but maybe i can inspire some skepticism. regardless i am not trying to invalidate you or your trauma dear reader, i simply ask you to question the things you hear on the internet.

more than anything i believe to combat CSA we need to have solidarity with our fellow survivors no matter how 'bad' their abuse was. the RAMCOA narrative creates a hierarchy among survivors between those who went through 'complex trauma' and those who did not. to me this is a ridiculous distinction; people who have been through 'minor' trauma can end up just as traumatized as those who went through CSEC. it's not a contest for fucks sake. the RAMCOA narrative encourages the same thing the mental health industry does, that trauma survivors should focus on 'healing' in an individualistic manner and shell out money to crackpot therapists. RAMCOA survivors are supposed to focus on 'de-programming' themselves, which is always a solitary project between you and your therapist. it puts the focus on the specific 'cult' that abused you rather than the systems that actually cause CSEC: capitalism and the nuclear family. i really just wish communities for survivors of CSA focused more on getting people fired up and angry about the fact that society allowed this to happen to us. the oppression of children is one that intersects with every single other form of oppression, and we should be forming those kinds of bonds with other liberatory movements rather than focusing on our own personal 'healing.' that's my opinion at least, and i am a bleeding heart anarchist with a liberal arts degree so take it as you will.

conspiracies about CSEC are mainstream in political discourse right now. the RAMCOA narrative is just one among many, and really in the grand scheme of things is harmless compared to stuff like QAnon. that doesn't mean we should just tolerate it though, because at its heart the RAMCOA conspiracy is the same one you always see for this subject: CSA is only the domain of our enemies, of the outgroup, and there is a deliberate conspiracy by this same 'other' to cover up this fact. for those who read this and are still devoted to the term RAMCOA, at the very least be more critical of these kind of conspiracies, and try to take more notice of the way they are employed in political squabbles and online discourse. these conspiracies do nothing to help CSA survivors, and are in fact a harmful distraction. the purpose of all of them is to mobilize our trauma and anger towards the political enemies of the day, and we as survivors cannot let that happen.

#yapping #ramcoa #organized abuse #ritual abuse #oea

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strangerconnection · 6 months ago

Text

𖦹 .ᐟ INTRO

[pt: intro]

🎡 COLLECTIVELY

Stranger/Tartar

it . thou aroace

agendr intersex

pf-did audhd anxiety npd(?) avpd etc

Artfight: StrangerConnection SP: StrangerConnection

this is a personal blog and thus will include venting and some sensitive subjects. ask us to tag if we forget. we frequently discuss our system.

everyone is welcome to interact, feel free to tag us in things!! we like attention (for lack of a better way to phrase it???), even if we are very anxious.

we prefer to interact in either replies, asks, or reblogs due to anxiety. dms are hard for us.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

𖦹 .ᐟ BYF/DNI

[pt: byf/dni]

We are very nervous! Tone tags are appreciated but aren't 110% necessary at all times :-)! We do see comments but may not always reply!

This is a personal blog! It may feature venting and talk of intrusive thoughts and triggering stuff. will be tagged but just warning. feel free to reblog whatever though

Main DNI: Bigots (racist, queerphobic, ableist, antisemitic, etc), under 13. Nothing else immediately comes to mind, but I'll block as I see fit :-)

Mostly just. pretty please don't harass my mutuals n respect their DNI if dey have one. I just don't want them to be upset. I aint care about discourse, just don't bother my friends.

We have our SimplyPlural in our intro but if we don't know you we're unlikely to give you permission to view our stuff, so please tell who yu are in a message!

We are very forgetful so feel free to remind us of things! We are also very nervous as previously stated, so it's preferred if you handle things w/ us in an ask or dms. We follow back a lot of the time, wanting to have mutuals albeit we are very avoidant so keep that in mind! We may be anxious about new friends but I swear it's nothing to do with you!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

We are also paranoid. If we don't answer something, that is usually why. It's not personal.

𖦹 .ᐟ SIDEBLOGS

@our-sadstorybook (art + ocs) @kids--corner @the-charnelhouse @strangerspaace @candycoated-poison @wonderland--house @montoli-island

𖦹 .ᐟ EXTRA

[pt: frequent fronters]

Longer List... (Google Doc)

References... (wip)

ASK FOR PRONOUNS IF NECESSARY! We are likely polyfragmented and have a heavily cycling array of fronters, so things are confusing!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

𖦹 .ᐟ DISCLAIMER

WE HAVE A LOT OF OC INTROJECTS. Many of them are "problematic" but still want to interact and talk about their source. As always, WE ARE NOT OUR SOURCE.

Many of our ocs/stories are used to cope with/process our trauma and thus feature themes of abuse and violence. We try to tag things but often forget, just ask us to tag if needed!

#art🎡

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grossrottie · 4 days ago

Text

Ugh okay I played more of Date Everything! today and I have new thoughts now that I know more abt some characters

It is also time to make official F/O tags for the Date Everything crew ;w;

Listed below the cut in numerical order based on the Date-a-Dex files

S Tier: Body jitters when seeing them, stimming, giddiness, giggle-inducing A Tier: Dreamy, blushing B Tier: Interest is piqued

(the font colours don't match up to the Tiermaker colours but don't mind that)

further thoughts below the cut (SPOILERS for all the characters in this lil table!!)

#7 Dorian: A Tier

Omg Dorian's accent is such a shot to the heart, I melt every time I hear it. That rumble...the warmth in his voice...I know he isn't into romance but sshhhhhh I wanna get his Love ending and see what it's about. I love his protective streak when warning you of the other objects. Tiny Dorian in the kitchen omg. And uh...Trap Dorian O///O; Utterly delicious...

#14 Hector (Valentino Airnesto Condicionado): A Tier

Oh my goodness Hector…that voice made me fall for him so quickly and that poetic language!!! Wouah…Call me a kitten ‘cause I’m thoroughly smitten. AND I JUST GOT TO HIS FACE REVEAL!!!! Omg the voice change when he’s speaking to you face to face vs through the vent…the deep rumble vs the soft murmur….AND ALSO HIS FACE SHAPE WAAAAAA I love that he has a soft chin!!!! It’s a source of self confidence stuff for myself so it’s so nice to see a character that I (and seemingly many people?) find attractive who I share that trait with!! His side profile ugh <3 <3

#16 Timothy/Timmy Timepiece: A Tier

OH WOW I really thought that Timmy was gonna be my biggest #1 but actually he’s somehow got scooted down to A tier! He’s so unbelievably adorable and I want to squeeze him like a stress ball 🥺 Timothy is an uptight lil mfer and he is in desperate need of being knocked down a peg…but I suppose he has to deal with Timmy, so he’s stuck with misery either way! Teehee! I love his timeliness but I think I’m partial to sweet Timmy <3

#19 Eddie & Volt: S Tier

OH MY GOD WHERE TO STAAAARTT OH GOD. My gosh the vibes were immaculate from the start. The implications with Eddie and Volt’s relationship in the beginning? The dip of unhealthy relationship dynamics that twist into something kinda sweet?? THEIR VOICES??? Guh I feel myself float away into happy nothingness at every single one of their voice lines. Especially Eddie… Volt’s smooth lil drawl was delightful to listen to but something about Eddie’s rough voice really does me in… I will still continue to have a personal headcanon/AU where their relationship is more dead dove because…I swear I saw the vibes ajdbdbddjh

#28 Parker Bradley: A-B Tier

I’m sad that I timed my save wrong and ended up with a Hate ending due to a dice roll ;w; I didn’t think I’d like Parker at first but he actually really grew on me!!! I was so excited to get a Love or Friend ending but some dice roll on the 3rd date/game locked in my ending for the 4th meeting. RIP ajdrhehdhfh even Chance wasn’t a fan of Parker’s methods, but what can you do?

#30 Tina Triangle: A Tier

Oh my god my delightful abusive girlfriend…tbh I wish she was a bit meaner (though I’ve only gotten her Friend ending because I couldn’t figure out how to make her date me. RIP. But she’s so pretty and her voice is so nice (what is that accent??) and her style is to die for and she’s so delightfully toxic. I love her to bits. The only thing keeping her from a higher rank is that I wish she was rougher or meaner.

#34 Sinclaire: ? Tier

I haven’t only had the first day with him so far but oh my god he’s so WEIRD!!! His vibes are so unusual and he’s an unwilling and aware victim and I just…yeah 👀 Mindbreaking rocks teehee I'm already in love

#43 Cam: ? Tier

I also haven’t seen more than the first day with Cam but that greasy pretty boy aesthetic and the voice…yeah that garbage can has my name written all over it. I’ve written it in sharpie. His attitude is rancid and I wanna smooch him.

#47 Johnny Splash: ? Tier

Oh my crooning little fella 🥹 EEK the cute nicknames he uses are so cute and although I haven’t gotten an ending with him yet, he’s so darling and I love seeing and hearing him. Heheheh the Breaker Box scenes are so funny when he’s getting heckled!!

#49 Rebel: B Tier

This one surprised me! The Content Aware warming intrigued me at first and I’m surprised to find that Rebel is actually very interesting!! They have a surprising side to them that’s really fun to see.

#50 Barry Styles: A-B Tier

Barry omggggg!!! I love the scatterbrained, self-conscious, awkwardness of it all! And his memory issues waaaaaa they call to me…I feel so seen by an assortment of beauty supplies. He’s such a cutie patootie!!!!!

#64 Scandalabra: S Tier

Oh god oh loooooooordie well. I knew he was gonna worm his way into my head and I can’t believe how much I want his approval. I’ve been grinding to get SPECS from other characters before I mess with Scandalabra because I don’t wanna miss anything. He loves gossip and I wanna know what he’s saying!! His voice is so grating and he looks so weird and I wanna kiss him with teeth (/pos/cuteness aggression)

#86 Keith: A Tier

Another surprise! His voice is delightful and I’m so unbelievably interested in what his Content Aware status is (but don’t tell me pls!). I played some of the game with my sibling and I covered my eyes and they read the warning to see if I would care if it was spoiled, and apparently I’m super gonna love it. I’m so curious eeeeee!!!! DILF vibes…

#89 Sophia: A-B Tier

So uh. Yeah I’m not immune to big strong dominatrix with a thing for degradation and praise. She’s so attractive and her voice UGH yeah voices are a big thing for me, I’m realizing ahahah

---

Okay I’m gonna take a break and do some IRL stuff but these are some of my faves right now!!!

#okay now to do the new tags omg #eddie and volt taggie #scandalabra taggie #dorian taggie #hector taggie #timothy timepiece taggie #tina triangle taggie #keith taggie #parker bradley taggie #barry styles taggie #sophia taggie #rebel taggie #sinclaire taggie #cam taggie #johnny splash taggie #PHEW THERE WE GOOOO #date everything #rottie.exe

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skyesblue · 1 year ago

Note

Trish stratus x reader (fem)

Could you write something like when Trish turns on Becky,Becky begs reader to pick her side but reader doesn’t even think before picking Trish so whenever Becky is near them Trish rubs it in Becky’s face(by like getting really touching or something)

love your writing btw 😸😸

★ღ♔『She Chose Me』★ღ♔

✮⋆˙ ☠︎︎ ★☠︎ ✮⋆˙ ✮⋆˙ ☠︎︎ ★☠︎ ✮⋆˙ ✮⋆˙ ☠︎︎ ★☠︎

-ˋˏ [Summary] ˎˊ: Trish and Becky made you choose between them and Becky couldn’t convince you enough so you chose Trish so Trish rubs it in Becky’s face

-ˋˏ [Tw!] ˎˊ: angst, gxg, any mistakes I might have

-ˋˏ [Word Count] ˎˊ 1.1k

-ˋˏ [taglist] ˎˊ: @gecrgiagirl @nev-danielgarciawife

If you want to be added to the tag list let me know

Y/r/n= Your ring name

✮⋆˙ ☠︎︎ ★☠︎ ✮⋆˙ ✮⋆˙ ☠︎︎ ★☠︎ ✮⋆˙ ✮⋆˙ ☠︎︎ ★☠︎

You walked into the arena torn at the news that Adam Pearce gave you the previous week; ‘Trish is going to turn on Becky and you have to choose who you want to stay with’. This was hard for you because off screen you loved both women equally which makes it so much harder to choose, you was stuck in your mind; Trish had your heart first then there’s Becky. You walked into their shared locker room until the plan went into action later that night, you looked at them “hey Becks, hey Trish” you said as they smiled back.

You stayed in the locker room until your head started having thoughts zoom in and out of it so you told them you was going to ‘get something to drink in catering’, you got to catering looking around for Dakota Kai; she was your go to person when you needed to vent, since Nxt you and her became close, even inseparable. You pulled her to the side and she knew that was your sign that you needed to vent, she looked over at you “what’s wrong love?” She asked rubbing your arm. “I’m stressed out so much right now Dakota.”

“What’s up?” “So you know the storyline I’m in.. it’s stressing me out you know I love both of them but how do I know who to choose?” “Love you know I’m going to give you honest advice, if I was in your situation even though the head and the heart don’t agree go to which ever one your heart calls out trust me it’ll be easier to listen to your heart it knows what you really want Y/n” “thank you I will follow my heart” you said hugging her then grabbing a drink going back to the locker room.

You walked in shutting the door behind you “who do y’all fight tonight?” You asked as Trish looked at Becky. “Yeah Becks who do we fight tonight?” Becky looked at you and Trish thinking about who they were fighting tonight “we fight Zoey and Shayna” Becky said standing up. You took a sip of your drink thinking about the advice Dakota Kai gave to you to help you choose between the two even if they lost their match tonight. “When do we go out there?” “After Rhea’s promo calling out Charlotte” “got ya” you said getting tv ready still nervous.

When Rhea was done you, Trish, and Becks made your way to the ring as you sat at the commentary table. “Right here joining us at the commentary table we have Y/r/n with us, thank you for joining us” Michael Cole introduced you. “Thank you for having me Cole and Corey” you replied happily as Shayna’s theme started playing while her and Zoey walked out together. Cole looked over at you and asked “Y/r/n, have you seen the tension with Becky and Trish and who do you pick to go with?” When he asked that you froze in your tracks.

You looked over at Cole not knowing what to say so you had to think about it but before you could answer Graves yelled out “oh! What a brutal knee to Becky by Shayna Baszler” which turned the attention back to the match. Thank goodness for Graves that gave you time to avoid the question until you have to answer it when they did the promo after the match. While the match was still going you kept thinking about the advice Dakota Kai gave you; ‘listen to your heart it knows what you really want Y/n’ as you sighed sadly.

Becky tapped out to Shayna’s Kirafuda Clutch making you face palm and Trish shake her head disappointingly, Trish got two microphones handing one to Becky as you took the headset off joining them in the ring standing in the middle of both of them. Trish put the microphone to her mouth “sorry we didn’t get the win, we just lost the titles to Shayna and Zoey Stark” she said the last part pissed off looking straight at Becky. Becky put the microphone to her mouth looking at both you and Trish “I’m sorry guys, this one’s on me” she sighed.

Trish looked at Becky “so Becky I’m done I’m not gonna be wrestling that much longer anymore” she ‘cried’ to hide the fact that she was going to turn. “Y/r/n, honey who do you choose to go with? Leave with me? Or go with Becky?” Becky looked over at you but before she could talk Trish cut her off “she lost our match Y/r/n and look at what happened with her and Charlotte, do you really want to be around that honey?” She asked as Becky begged you to stay while the crowd was like ‘oohhhh’ at what Trish said.

While the advice that Dakota Kai gave you played in your head you didn’t even hesitate to pick Trish. Becky looked at the both of you distraught and confused and probably so many more emotions that you couldn’t read but would know if she told you. Before she could even ask you why Trish beat her up to the point to where she couldn’t move and was holding her ribs in pain, that right there was your and Trish’s heel turn. You was put in this storyline because you couldn’t wrestle because you hurt your leg when you got injured.

You got injured when you wrestled Sonya at a house show and you landed wrong on your leg causing you to wear a boot, but there’s no bad blood between you and Sonya. The love triangle ended because you was close to being healed soon so Adam had to start writing out your matches and your new storyline with Trish since the trio just now turned into a duo. You and Trish was booed by the fans as you both walked backstage together leaving a beat up Becky in the ring as medical staff walked past you to get her.

Over the past few weeks whenever Becky was around you Trish would rub it in her face that you chose her; she would hug you, put her arm around you, or hold your hands when telling you something, etc. petty stuff like that. Ever since that happened Becky’s been avoiding you and even stopped talking to you outside of wresting, you get it that it was a storyline but ignoring you outside of wrestling? That’s a bit over reacting to you, but who cares you’re not forcing her to talk to you, but it did hurt you a little bit.

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