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vikkirosko · 6 months

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Could I request for camp camp, Preston, max and David?

With the bandaged covered and death and harm obsessed m!reader I've requested before?

M!reader is a new camper he's part of the mechanic camp

(David platonic, m!reader is around the kids ages)

-🤡

This is indicated in the request, but I still want to clarify it. In these headcanons, Reader is a camper, just like Max and Preston, so the part with David is platonic

Half - platonic headcanons The charm of death

🏕 David x kid male!Reader 🌲

David always tried to smile and bring joy to campers. He wanted them, like him at the time, to understand how great it is to relax in the camp. And at first you seemed to him like a person who could share his view of the camp. You were a weird kid. You were wearing a huge amount of bandages, but you were always smiling, and David was sure that you were cheerful, despite what happened to you, although Gwen tried to tell him that this was clearly not the case

David saw it for himself when he had to bandage your wounds. He was very concerned about your condition, but you just kept smiling. That's when he saw a lot of wounds under your bandages. His first thought was that you were being mistreated by your parents, but then he saw you, with a smile on your lips, picking at one of your wounds with a fingernail. You obviously did it on purpose, as if you enjoyed hurting yourself

He began to notice that you often got into life-threatening situations and Gwen pulled you out of them. She tried to tell him about it, but David wouldn't listen to her. Now he saw that you seemed to be reaching for death on purpose. Now David has become the one who constantly prevented you from harming yourself. He tried to convey to you that your life was valuable, but it was as if you were fascinated by death and were drawn to it

He didn't know what exactly was going on in your head, but he sincerely hoped that the time you spend in the camp could help you stop thinking about death and you could have a good time. During all the time that you were in the camp, you never spoke, but he hoped that he would still be able to find out what exactly was the reason for your actions

💙 Max x kid male!Reader 🧸

When Max first saw you, he felt annoyed. You were smiling all the time and he expected you to be chatty and annoying, like a little copy of David, but pretty quickly he realized that even though you were smiling all the time, you weren't like David. You were silent all the time, there were a lot of bandages on your body and several times Max saw a huge number of different kinds of wounds that you hid under them. You weren't interested in the classes that were held at the camp, instead you were looking for a variety of ways to get injured or put your life in danger

You were willing to participate even in Max's most dangerous ideas and at first he liked it. But when you got hurt after one of his plans, he realized that he didn't like it. He didn't understand why you wanted to get hurt so much, but when Max had to treat your serious wounds while David and Gwen weren't looking, he didn't stop grumbling and swearing at you, deciding for himself that you would no longer put your life at risk through his fault

Every time Max saw that you intended to risk your health again, he stopped you, even if for this he had to roughly pull you away from danger by your clothes. He swore a lot about it, and when his friends asked about it, he was embarrassed and denied the fact that he was worried about you. Max would never admit to them that he liked you and that he didn't want you to die so early

Max didn't know exactly what was going on in your head, but he intended to find out. He knew many ways to bring you to the surface and there was little that could distract him from his goal. However, when you, as a kind of token of gratitude, kissed him on the cheek, he was very shocked. So much so that I couldn't notice how you went to risk yourself again. However, Max was not going to give up either

🎭 Preston Goodplay x kid male!Reader 💀

Preston was very fond of various romantic plays. Quite often the characters died in them and he saw it as very romantic. He wanted to put on such a play, but no one wanted to become the main character of his play until he told you about this play. You were a weird camper. Most of your skin was hidden under bandages and you never talked to anyone. He assumed that you got your wounds while working with mechanisms, but he was glad that you agreed to play a role in his play

At first he was thrilled that you weren't outraged about your role, but then Preston started noticing that you were trying to replace some props. For example, you tried to replace a plastic knife with a real one. Preston changed them back and when he went to you to ask why you did it, he saw how you were picking your wounds with your nails under the bandages. Preston wasn't an expert in mechanics, but he knew for sure that you didn't get these wounds from practicing mechanics

He realized that you often tried to make it so that during the performance you could really die. He wouldn't let you do it every time, claiming that you could ruin his play with it. Every time he saw that you were trying to change the props, he shouted loudly at you so that you wouldn't even dare to think about it. Preston saw you smiling at his screams, as if you were amused by it, and at some point he realized that you had a pretty sweet smile

Preston intended to be your protector in a way. He saw that the possibility of dying fascinated you, just as the theater fascinated him, and he knew that it was difficult to cope with it, but he sincerely wanted to get to know you better and if for this he needed to prevent you from self-harming, then he was going to do it seriously

#Camp Camp #Camp Camp x Reader #Camp camp headcanons #David #David x Reader #Max #Max x Reader #Preston Goodplay #Preston Goodplay x Reader

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majintails · 2 months

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In correlation with the previous reblog

Well, might as well cave in and clarify what I meant. Basically I am making ROM Hacks of Sonic 1 and 2, editing things to be more like my canon, fully playable and all. I also intend on eventually changing the level design, more or less just to have something additional to make it worth playing. Well, I've been describing my memories and experiences here, so I figured I would just straight up show others it at this point, let alone having something playable, as I realized I have the ability to well...do this.

Funny thing about this, my sources are pretty much mixed from almost everything, with the games being the closest to my canon or the most "dominant" of them. But nothing is perfect; from what I understand it's basically what this world might call some alternate universe or different continuity or whatever (nothing in fanon that I know of resembles it either). Aside from the usual fictionkin stuff of plenty of us having significant differences from the official sources or being from an unknown source, thus basically being the first time anyone's heard of that canon, that raises an interesting tidbit about what I'm doing here: Under a technicality, I made my own source, since this is essentially modding to make things like how they were in my canon, thus you could say these are "MajinTails Canon" video games.

But anyway...guess some of you want screenshots.

I'm actually most of the way there with regards to how things looked. I know, we didn't look all that different from SEGA's canon - my fur's more vibrant, sonic has a slight purple tint, and Eggman's just fleshier, but some of these places probably look a little bit jarring if you're used to how they typically look, at least first glance. Also yes, Sonic 2 has the rainbow super sonic I talked about sometime back.

I did a little breakaway with Marble Zone, since at day it looks pretty much the same as how it's typically depicted and I thought it'd be weird to have this one virtually unchanged location, so I based the edit loosely off that memory I have of visiting it at night. TBH some would of likely wanted to see that there anyway.

This definitely brings some peace of mind though, seeing how these places and my canonmates looked again let alone play it is very satisfying. It also helps since now there's some kind of tangible, physical detail of my canon rather than just my descriptions and memories, and what with me having to retrieve them to do this. If I ever find a canonmate I'll make sure to show them these hacks, that'll probably be a pleasant surprise.

#fictionkin #sonic kin #sonickin #tailskin #miles prower kin #miles tails prower kin #tails kin #tails the fox kin #sonic the hedgehog kin

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softpine · 6 months

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For me the note was kind of irrelevant like it shows that Asa really didn't intend to hurt himself and just thought he was going on a litte jaunt to go find Finn but in reality whether he reveals his abilities or not it's a red flag that he's willing to hurt himself over a boy and I think you've said in the past that Beth wouldn't believe him and I'm sorry Asa but in their eyes this is the second attempt to take his own life even if he didn't mean to hurt himself and this is just a casual (?) s

i see where you're coming from, but i hope it's coming across that asa isn't doing this just for finn. i totally understand that the way i've been joking about this situation isn't doing asa any favors. i'm someone who's been affected by suicide and have felt at least passively suicidal myself for almost as long as i can remember, so i sometimes don't know how to talk about this stuff in a normal way lol

there's some stuff in your message i can't talk about yet without spoilers, but i would like to clarify asa's intentions. he may not be trying to die, but he understands it's a possibility and he's more than okay with that risk. in his eyes, he'll either find finn or die trying. that may be unconscionable to some people, and i understand that, but there's no way to get around the fact that feeling suicidal makes you a more selfish person. it just does. it's no one's fault, it's not meant to harm anyone but yourself, but the very nature of suicide means you're putting your own pain above anyone else's. please know that i only feel comfortable saying this because i've been on both sides and i know how it feels.

so to explain more about how asa feels, here's an example from my own life (this is a long ass trauma dump but stick with me if you can stomach it lmao):

when i started college, i chose to live in the dorms even though it wasn't required and was not covered under my scholarship, so i'd be paying for it out of pocket (i still am). i was so scared to leave my family and pets behind, but i thought the dorms would be an easy way to make friends on day one. none of my friends went to the same college as me, in fact my best friend went to school an hour away, which may as well have been across the country considering neither of us had a car. i signed up for a 2-person dorm room with a connected bathroom that i would share with 2 other people. but when i moved in, i was the ONLY person in that block of rooms for MONTHS. it was incredibly lonely. the whole dorm culture was nothing like i expected; everyone kept to themselves, no one left their doors open, the common rooms were dead zones, even at the dorm events/parties no one wanted to talk to me. i was just miserable. i felt like there must be something wrong with me if i couldn't make friends in a place that was literally created for making friends. and then i started to realize that every reason i had to stay alive was sort of gone now. before, i knew i couldn't kill myself because i didn't want my family to find me, i didn't want a huge deal to be made at my high school, i had a job i loved (but i got let go right before college), and i just generally didn't want to create trouble for anyone. but in my dorm? i was totally anonymous. if anyone found my body, it would be an RA whose name i didn't even remember. all my stuff was already packed into a few boxes i never bothered to unpack. in my mind, there was nothing keeping me here. it all culminated in this one random day which had started out completely normal. i bought a bunch of halloween decorations from the dollar store and i started decorating the outside of my dorm door, and i was finally feeling excited for the first time in a while, when my RA came over and made me take it all down. at that point, i was just done. i took all the decorations down and i went inside my room and i was so completely fucking ready to die. and i know that might be hard to understand for anyone who has never felt suicidal before, because like... they're cheap halloween decorations. but they were the last straw for me. now obviously i'm still here today because my plans got interrupted (actually it was a random phone call from my best friend, telling me she hated her school and wanted to know if it was too late to transfer and become my roommate; it was like something out of a movie), which i'm so fucking thankful for. but in that moment, i was ready to give up. and if things had gone my way, it would've seemed like i killed myself over $10 worth of halloween decorations.

how does this relate to asa and finn? well, losing finn is just his last straw. if asa's life was more normal than it is, he would be able to grieve the loss of a loved one and move forward with his life. it would be difficult, but he could do it with time. but given everything else going on inside his head, he simply couldn't bear one more thing. and finn is a pretty big thing. so on the outside, it may seem like asa is hurting himself over a boy, but it's not really about the boy. it's not really about the halloween decorations. it's just the last straw. and when you've hit your limit, nothing else matters. you'll start to convince yourself that no one cares about you anyway, and if they do, they'll forget about you soon enough. you can't apply real logic to these situations. but trust me, it will feel so silly when you're in a better place and you look back on all the awful, untrue things your brain said to you. and i hope you'll be able to see that through asa in the future!

this came in right as i was about to hit post jfksjds but don't worry, i didn't take it in a rude way!! you're exactly right that the note won't make anyone feel better; in fact stevie is the only person who will be able to tell what it even means. which is just further proof that asa doesn't grasp the full weight of his actions or how they will affect other people :(

#suicide tw #asks #anonymous #nonsims #brandi answers

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ingravinoveritas · 10 months

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neil clarified that it's not the fans he's upset with and that all he asks for is for people to either stop showing the leak or to at least mark it and the conversation around it as spoilers, which is more than reasonable. i still can't believe that what is possibly the biggest moment for the fandom has gotten out like this and that people are so insensitive when it comes to not putting up any warnings. i was hit by the image on twitter this morning and i'm still unhappy, hours later, about something that usually would've brought me immense joy, because the show means so much to me and i wanted to experience the season in the way it was intended. maybe just don't say that you're not going reveal the spoiler only to then talk about it in a way that leaves no questions. you can tag for potential spoilers on tumblr and there is also a read more option, so you're able to put things under a cut. it takes so little effort to be more considerate.

(Grouping all of the Anons that I got in response to my post together. Not included in this array is another Anon that I am not posting by request, but the tone is very similar to Anon #1, so that should give you an idea of things.)

Okay, so...wow. Obviously there are a lot of feelings around what happened, which is understandable. But what I'm a bit taken aback by is the seeming lack of personal accountability in a few of these responses. At no point was anyone obligated to continue reading my post if they thought a spoiler was about to be shared, and I find it peculiar that some folks are getting angry at me because they decided to employ critical thinking skills while reading my post (and also, why would you keep reading if you didn't want to see a spoiler but thought one might be forthcoming?).

There's also the notion that The Thing by its very nature is a strange thing to categorize as a spoiler because it shouldn't be surprising or a "twist" for these characters to be in a confirmed relationship...unless Neil was hoping to score brownie points with it after all of the "queer-baiting" accusations from last season. But blaming me for somehow adding to the sturm und drang around the spoiler news is not on, because while I realize I am an easy target (certainly easier than Amazon, at any rate), all of the above is also failing to take into account that I did not actually share the spoiler in my post.

That being said, I am certainly glad that Neil did indeed clarify (on Tumblr and Twitter) that he is not upset with the fans. The problem is, by the time he did so it was already too late, as the post he reblogged had received much more traction than the follow-up(s) and fans were already taking his word as chapter and verse and turning on other fans. This was also another point of concern, seeing how intense the parasocial relationship between some of the fans and Neil seems to be. As I've said previously, it is absolutely understandable for Neil to be upset/angry about what happened and we can, as fans, say that his wishes as the creator should be respected.

But where I saw things go way over the top was what you mentioned, Anon #3. People seemingly breaking down and falling over themselves to apologize to Neil, as if we are his friends whom he would have come over with a cup of tea or a bottle of wine to cheer him up after a bad breakup. So it was that particular response that I felt was really disproportionate to the events that occurred.

Anon #2, the link you shared does work, and I had to laugh at the highlighted comment, as well as Neil's original one, which now seems to have aged like milk left out in the hot sub-Saharan sun for an entire week. In a way, we can definitely say that Neil did warn us, and what he said came true--that if one hung around the official channels, little bits and things would be released into the wild. Amazon very much did fuck up, but it's hard not to find the hilarity (and irony) of them fucking up in the most Good Omens-y, "incompetent angel and demon losing the Antichrist" way possible.

To your point, Anon #3, the leak happened because a 2-frame clip was included in a compilation video that Amazon posted that included clips from multiple shows. But it's for this very reason that most fans didn't think or realize that it was a leak in the first place. So I think you could classify it as a poorly done promo, because whether it was intentional or not (and goodness knows I've seen plenty of theories floating around as to which is the case), it still generated buzz and discussion around the show, which is what promotion of any kind is meant to do.

As you said, however...in the end, is this truly going to make anyone not watch the show? I was away/nonstop busy last week and weekend, so I haven't really had time to process everything, but now that it's sinking in, I am SO incredibly excited. While, yes, it would've been lovely to learn this information in the context of the show and I do understand people who feel disappointed due to this, I genuinely cannot imagine how this news could make the experience of GO 2 less joyful, or why any GO fan would not watch the show because of it. I also have posts from as far back as a year and a half ago alluding to these developments only as a possibility, and I'd very much like to reblog some of those just because of how amazingly/hilariously well they have aged.

With all of that in mind, as I stated previously, any posts I do make from here on out that allude to the spoiler even slightly will be tagged as such (with the tag #go2 spoilers), and will be placed under a "Keep Reading" cut. Because I know there are folks who are dying to talk about all this, whose excitement may have been tempered somewhat in the wake of the fallout but who I am sure are feeling elated and full of anticipation now more than ever.

So those are my thoughts on the follow-up to last week's fandom implosion. Hopefully I've addressed some of the concerns people have, and while I know I likely won't change anyone's mind, I have plenty of other feelings and thoughts to share that I hope folks will stay tuned for...

#anonymous #phantomstars24 #reply post #good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #neil gaiman #go2 spoilers #trying to provide a balanced perspective #hopefully we can all chill out a bit from here on in #please let next week be better #fandom woes #discourse

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thebreakfastgenie · 2 years

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Same anon again and I feel like I need to clarify something further as well as I think you might be making some assumptions about me (which is fine, by the way, as you don't know anything about me except my last anon -- I just wanted to clear a few things up). I am also an LGBT person, specifically a bisexual trans person who has been read socially as a gay man, a gay woman and a straight woman at different times in my life as well as being correctly identified by people with more information. I know this means I do not have the same experience of existing as a gay person but I hope you can see how this gives me a perspective on it. Additionally, I know very well the "just don't hit on me" vibes as unfortunately I grew up in the same/similar era and those were more or less the exact words my high school best friend said to me when I came out. That kind of thing has always stuck with me even though I'm aware that now society has shifted in some ways. To this day I still get that in e.g. the workplace. And I think possibly the fact this experience has led me down the path a little of being very protective of LGBT interpretations of certain characters while being very protective of the platonic friendships of some others. To use more examples from bygone eras, though I grant you that I can't think of many examples specifically from the 1970s off the top of my head, I think about perceptions of male friendship in Lord of the Rings (the books, not the films) vs the relationships of the leads in Rebel Without A Cause. Or to look at more recent works, the way "fandom" approached Good Omens (the book) in the 1990s versus the way that "fandom" approaches Good Omens (the miniseries) now.

Hi again! I want to clarify that I was not making assumptions about you or your experiences. I was speaking about my own experiences, without intending to imply anything about the experiences of anyone else. Honestly, I probably subconsciously assumed you had some connection to the LGBT community, just based on the demographics here and your interest in this subject, but I didn't consciously think about it. I do sometimes highlight the way my sexual orientation affected my opinions because I think it's sort of the opposite of what's common here and I like to remind people that gay people are not a monolith and our experiences of consuming media while gay can lead to opposite conclusions. I have noticed that my interests vis-a-vis fandom, shipping, and gay shipping specifically have shifted as I've gained a clearer understanding of my sexuality and become more comfortable and secure in it. A semi-related example: I became much more interested in M/F ships after I realized I was gay; a lot of people report the opposite. For me, I think once I accepted I wasn't interested in a relationship with a man, I stopped trying to force myself to see those relationships as something I should understand or aspire to, and instead became able to enjoy them as relating to characters who are unlike me and trying to feel those experiences, which is an aspect of media I really enjoy. I like Hawkeye/Margaret and I probably wouldn't have ten or twelve years ago.

And hey, I have the same experience, just probably not with the exact same ships! To give an example, I'm fairly invested in the gay Spock interpretation (and this is one of very, very few gay headcanons I have). I'm fairly protective of it and this is definitely wrapped up in getting invested in Star Trek and spirk around the same time I was realizing I was not bisexual, but a lesbian. To give another M*A*S*H example, obviously I dislike hunnihawk, but I aggressively dislike any interpretation of Hawkeye and Tommy Gillis as former boyfriends, even though I headcanon them as gay and bi respectively I am just extremely protective of the platonic childhood best friends dynamic, especially because Tommy dies, and I have, as established, kind of a thing about dead childhood best friends. In addition to that projection, "best friends who both grew up queer" is also an experience that rings true.

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lilliananightshadethesilvermage · 5 months

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I came out to my roommate

As the title states, I recently came out to my roommate. I've wanted to come out to my roommate as nonbinary for a while now, however coming out makes me nervous so I've been putting it off. I had previously had a conversation about being nonbinary and preferring they/them with my roommate sitting next to me, so I had at first thought she knew and just hadn't brought it up however I realized that she didn't know. I had started several conversations before intending to come out, but it never happened. The other day however, I was with my roommate and two friends, one of who I was already out to, and the topic of correctly using pronouns came up. My friend who I was already out to mentioned that she messed up my pronouns sometimes. My roommate and my other friend then asked what pronouns I use since they were unaware I didn't use she/her, and since then, my roommate has corrected herself anytime she has accidentally used the wrong ones.

I would like to clarify that while my friend did kind of accidentally out me, I don't care who knows that I'm queer as long as they're not my family or anyone I go to church with, and my friend knows this.

#nonbinary #lgbtq #queer #coming out #my roommate is pretty cool #she is also queer

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dazedpuppydairies · 9 months

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A couple weeks ago I was filling out one of the applications for disability, I think it was the function report. Anyway one of the questions was something along the lines of, "Do you do better with written instructions or verbal instructions?" At first when I was actually filling out the report I answered with verbal instructions because I have serious reading comprehension issues, due to ADHD and it's come to my attention that I probably have dyslexia. So I explained that on the report and then I went on to explain that I do, do better with verbal instructions; however, I need someone there to keep clarifying things for me. Now that I've been thinking about it for a couple weeks I realize I don't actually do particularly well with written instructions or verbal instructions and because of that I kind of need a mix of both. Like if you give me a long list of instructions I'm probably going to have a very difficult time reading it and you're probably going to have to explain it to me anyway due to comprehension issues, but if you give me a long verbal list and then walk away I'm not going to process everything. Hell I might not even hear half of it because my mind drifted off into some strange place that I didn't intend it to. If we're being completely honest between the ADHD thoughts in the OCD thoughts I can't think straight A lot of the time. I think I do best when someone explains something to me and then leaves me with a simple list. Anyway when people are making up these reports they're clearly not really thinking about comorbidities so the questions are super black and white when the answers often aren't. Of course I probably could have written down that I do best with a mix of verbal and written instructions, but due to the way the question was worded it took me weeks to even realize that that was an option. Filling out this report was so hard for me like they don't really make it easy for disabled people to fill out the reports that we need to fill out to get disability benefits. Anyway I know that this was kind of a random post, but I've been thinking about this on and off for weeks and wanted to talk about it. Also if you were wondering how I manage to write these long posts with reading, reading comprehension, spelling and grammar issues I have a huge tip! Throughout the writing process put your writing into a text to speech application it makes the process so so much easier.

#disabled #disability #ADHD #autism #ocd #comprehension #mental health #accessibility

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 1 year

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A question regarding your list - are keepie uppies and kick a ball around the same thing? Kicking a ball around with your mates in the UK is known as a kickabout, not a keepie uppie, which is when you kick a ball in the air repeatedly to not let it touch the ground. Apologies if I've misunderstood the American term. Also in the UK we sometimes call Xs crosses, both terms are used interchangeably.

(Sorry if this is patronising or rude, it was not intended to be.)

(Off this post, if anyone wants context.)

First of all, I like that I'm getting multiple replies off this post, but it is making me feel the need to clarify that I didn't mean anything in it too seriously. I by and large prefer the British way of using language - I get quite annoyed when I see American spellings that aren't used in Canada (I have a completely disproportionate negative reaction to "center"), but generally just amused when I see British words that aren't used in Canada.

Sorry, that has almost nothing to do with the message I've been sent, I just now worry that the post I made without thinking may have come off as condescending, like, "What's wrong with those British people who talk weird?" So I'm trying to explain that no, I think the way you guys talk is cool! It's objectively the original form of the English language, and subjectively, I like it so much that since I was a kid, I've had someone ask me about once every five years why my speech patterns sound more like British English than North American English. To which I suspect the actual answer is that I spent my childhood reading a lot of British fantasy novels, and watching/listening to/reading old British comedy with my dad, and not interacting with my peers because of severe social anxiety, and the then-undiagnosed autism meant my years of doing that were a more formative period of language development than they were for kids who developed faster. I basically rarely got actual practise of talking to people so I learned how to use English manually from Harry Potter, and now I very occasionally say "I've not" instead of "I haven't". My reason for sometimes using British-style phrasing (not specific words that aren't used here, just the method of putting words together) is either that, or that I'm just very pretentious and want an excuse for it. Probably a bit of both.

Anyway, the point is that I have no objection to British English overall, to the point where I sometimes actively try to stop myself from talking that way because I don't want to sound like I'm pretentiously pretending to be British.

Having said that, having said all those things that do not in any way respond to the question I've been asked, I maintain that Naughts and Crosses is an unnecessarily ostentatious way to refer to a children's game that takes thirty seconds, eight square centimetres, and no effort to play. Though as I write this, I realize I might mainly think that because hearing those words make me picture the cover of the Malorie Blackman novel, which I've always thought is a beautiful design, and of course the book itself is intelligent and layered and complex and made me think so much as a teenager. So I feel like there’s such a weird disconnect between the words “Naughts and Crosses”, which bring up all that, and a little grid scribbled in pencil. I didn't think of that before now, and if that is the reason why I feel like the name is too fancy for what it describes, then that makes no sense whatsoever because obviously the book is named after the game. So... I might have to concede that my thought process makes no sense on that one, and give Britain permission to go on calling it whatever they like. Permission granted.

On the other thing, I guess I should have written "kicking a ball in the air repeatedly", instead of just "kicking a ball around", because I do know it refers to that specific game. I just wrote "kicking a ball around" because I don't think we have a specific word here for the game that British people call keepie upies. Or at least, Russell Howard calls it keepie upies. I don't know how common the term is in Britain, I just know I find it really funny every time Russell Howard, with a straight face, will brag about how many "keepie upies" he can do. But he's said it to enough other people (guests on his show, other people on panel shows) who have not said, "Sorry, what term are you using for that?" to make me assume that British people accept that the game of trying to use your feet to keep a ball from touching the ground is called "keepie upies", even if you're an adult. And I'm sorry, but I have to stand firm on this one, that is very silly. I love you guys, but between that, "footie", and "telly", sometimes Britain is a silly place. Not as often as North America is a silly place, but still.

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facesofone · 2 years

Note

I'm not in crisis, but I do need a but of help if that's alright. Through a series of events that really began sort a few months ago when I realized the severity of a trauma when I was around 7, and led to a therapist pointing out emotional neglect throughout my childhood, brought me to a trauma survivors blog where another person's ask resonated with me and ultimately led to me questioning if I may be part of a system. I didn't have any "imaginary friends" before the trauma, and after I did. And they have been with me now for 20 years. I didn't know that wasn't a typical experience. I thought maybe it was just inner monologs, but after this week, I'm very sure at there is at least one that is almost completely separated from myself if not two. (My understanding is under OSDD1a the lines between alters can be less defined.)

I have been doing as much research as possible this last week and line up very closely with OSDD1 criteria. I keep running into discourse so I feel I need to clarify that. I am doing research, and if I can find a therapist I trust, I do intend to ask about it. To this end I have been trying to keep notes on the dissociative feelings I get, and even have tried advice from another ask I read about straight up trying to talk to other voice and did so through a typed conversation during part of which I could feel a difference in my face that was beyond my control while they were typing. But I feel like the very act of trying to collect data on this, trying to reach out to who I'm now very sure are my alters, means that I'm making all this up. Despite matching much of the criteria I've been studying, despite the fact that at least one of them has been with me for 20 years, it feels like...acknowledging it, questioning it, trying to find answers means it's fake. I feel like there's no place for us within the community, but I don't know where else to go for support. I almost feel like if my experience in this doesn't mirror that of another's system that...I'm making it up somehow.

I'm so sorry, I know this is a lot. I'm trying to reach out to several blogs for advice, because I feel like the community can tell me more about the experience of being a system than any medical document can. If this is too much, I absolutely understand, but if you happen to know of any places I can go to learn better about the experience of being a system it would be immensely appreciated.

Hey! So I just want to start off by saying that I will give you my thoughts on the matter, but cannot give any kind of diagnosis or anything.

So from my understanding the primary requirements of OSDD-1a is either only 2 alters (host and secondary) or alters that are not fully formed (distinctly seperate self). From what I gathered from your ask it would seem 1b would be more likely in your case as you say that at least 1 can be considered completely seperate.

Nextly I want to address your feelings about researching dissociative identities, you're absolutely not alone in that. I've felt that way and I know many others have too. The thing I try to remember and remind is that faking is an act of intention. One has to actively think about and make efforts to decieve others to actually be faking something. In essence, you would know. So hopefully that is comforting because it seems like you aren't doing that, which ultimately means that you aren't. I can understand how looking into things may make you feel that way, but don't let that stop you from learning what you want to.

And don't worry if your experiences don't mirror others, systems come in all sorts of shapes and flavors and there is no one "right" way to be a system. If people in a community are making you feel like you don't belong because you're not ____ enough, that's a community you don't need to be a part of.

You seem like you're making great efforts to understand yourself(ves) and that is excellent. It feels like you've been thinking very hard about your words and I commend that. I hope some of what I said helped, or at the very least, I hope one of the other blogs gave you something good to think about.

Definitely wishing you well, and I hope to hear from you again!

Sincerely,

Kyra

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whimsicallyreading · 3 years

Text

Dark Roast, No Sugar

“Last night I woke the hell up. I realized I need you here, as desperate as that sounds, yeah.” - Jon Bellion

Masterlist

Chapter Nine-

Aelin showed up to the police department in a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt. She didn't even bother putting on the new-ish sneakers she owned, opting for the ones with holes because they didn't squeeze her feet. It wasn't the first impression she wanted to give, but you deserve a little forgiveness when making a whole-ass human.

Leaning over the dash of the car, she presses a friendly kiss to the side of Chaol's face. "Thanks for the ride, boys."

His cheeks redden, and Dorian leans as much of his body as he can into the front of the car, "No sugar for me?"

Aelin laughs and kisses his cheek good-naturedly. "Feel less left out now?"

"Much better," the corners of his happy smile dim, his blue eyes dart to the doors of the precinct. "Are you sure you don't want me to call you a lawyer, Aelin?"

Chaol nods his agreement beside him, his hands clenching the steering wheel despite the car being in park. "Do you want me to go inside with you?"

Aelin feels a bubble of warmth blossoming in her chest. Their worried faces and eagerness to help her- it was almost enough to warm an assassin's heart. "Don't worry. They just need me to clarify a few things in my statement. Nothing serious. Paperwork issues."

Dorian and Chaol had shown up right as she was walking out of the front door of The Stag. When they realized she was leaving and offered her a ride... Aelin couldn't say no. Not with how her feet were aching.

It took some more reassuring, but they finally agreed to let her leave their caring grasps.

Fenrys met her at the door with a smile, "Hey, Baby Mama. Looking beautiful."

Aelin is surprised to find she's genuinely happy to see him. She can't help the toothy grin he brings out in her. "I'm well. How are you this morning, Fen?"

Fenrys lights up at the nickname. "I bought us some donuts. We have a hard day of work ahead of us, and I figured we would deserve a treat in advance."

Donuts sounded phenomenal and vastly improved her outlook of the day.

He steers her through the PD, and several heads turn to stare as she passes. Aelin didn't particularly care. Whatever they thought they knew about her, they probably didn't.

When they finally reach Rowan's office, they find him slumped over a laptop at a desk piled high with neatly stacked papers. The room is minimalistic. Only necessary office items were visible—no personal effects, knickknacks, or pictures of any kind adorning the space.

Rowan himself is also in his usual state of neatness, minus the dirt she could see staining the underside of his nails. He must have been gardening this morning.

Aelin doesn't bother with greetings. She grabs a chair opposite him and sits down. The last few days, she'd been feeling more drained and quick to tire. At first, she attributed it to the baby getting larger and demanding more of her body's resources, but now Aelin started to think that she caught a bug galavanting through the night.

Fenrys set a blueberry donut and a cup of hot tea in front of her. Bless him. Aelin mumbles her thanks before stuffing her mouth.

Rowan shuts his laptop with a snap and replaces it with a yellow notepad. "Alright, Aelin. I need a name. Who do you think is doing this?"

"When is Aedion getting released?" She says around a mouthful of glazed blueberry.

Fenrys slumps into an office chair at a tinier desk in the corner of the room. "This afternoon."

"If all goes well at this meeting," Rowan tacks on the thinly veiled warning. "I need a name."

Aelin leans back in her seat and takes a deep breath. There was a strange heaviness in giving his name. As if speaking it would materialize him into existence in front of her. Her goal when she moved to Ornyth was to forget about him and push her old master as far from her mind as she physically could, but she supposed it was naive to think he wouldn't come looking for her.

This wasn't just for her, Aelin reminds herself. Aedion would benefit from this conversation.

"His name is Arobynn Hammel. He's thirty-five, red hair, grey eyes, and an utter asshole." Aelin lays the name of her childhood tormentor out on the table. A bad taste sours her mouth.

Rowan tosses the notepad to Fenrys, who relays what she said to the paper. He looks at her over his desk with an unreadable expression. "What is your relation to Mr. Hammel?"

"Why?" Aelin chuckles as if the stress is trying to escape her with each half-hearted chuckle. "Do you want to know if he's my baby daddy?"

"Yes," Rowan and Fenrys say simultaneously.

Aelin's smile falls, and she scowls at both of them. They didn't know better, but she still felt insulted.

"He isn't, but I suppose he probably would have liked to be. Make sure to underline that," she points at Fenry's pad of paper. "Arobynn raised me. I don't think he was legally a foster parent, but he is who I was given to in the shuffle after the occupation."

Rowan dips his chin. Green eyes focus on her intensely, as if he's trying to absorb and commit her every word to memory. "How old were you when they put you in his care?"

"Eight," Aelin breathes out, a sharp tingling of grief comes with that admission. "I lived with him from the time I was eight until I turned nineteen."

"Why do you suspect him of producing and distributing Synth?" Rowan asks the nail-in-the-coffin question, and Aelin has to bite back old instincts to lie and conceal this information. It makes her feel vulnerable to expose Arobynn.

Vulnerability isn't an emotion she handles well. After all, when you bare your neck to someone, it becomes within their power to cut their throat.

"I've seen where he makes it, and I oversaw some of his high-risk contracts and dealings with the distribution," Fenrys chokes beside her, but he smothers it with a cough. Even Rowan looks a little taken back, eyes narrowing.

"At what age did you start assisting with his-" he struggles to find the words. "-His business practices."

Aelin blinks, "Eight."

This time, neither of them covers their reactions. They both freeze in their seats, an air of disbelief hanging over them. Aelin feels a chill and tugs at the hem of her shirt, wishing the sleeves were longer.

"What?" Rowan is the first to break the tension.

"I was displaced in the occupation," Aelin begins the watered-down version of her sob story. "I was carted into Adarlan and placed in the care of Arobynn Hammel. Within a couple of months, he was already using me as a mule to get orders across Rifthold. He trained me in various skills to carry out larger jobs, along with a few other children."

"There were others?" Rowan looks saddened by that tidbit.

Mentally Aelin wants to laugh.

Of course, he would be upset at the prospect of other good children suffering from such a fate.`Ones who had the potential he thought she lacked.

If only he knew what bastards they all grew up to be, and she by far was not the worst of them.

Fenrys' eyes were gleaming with more pity than Aelin was comfortable with because, unlike Rowan, she knew it was directed towards her. Gratefully he didn't dig too deeply. Instead, Fenrys picked up the next question. "Can you name the others?"

Aelin bites her lip, leg fidgeting under the table. "Tern Fletcher, Archer Flynn, Adam Mulligan, Lysandra Ennar-" she swallows past the lump in her throat. "Samuel Cortland and myself."

"Lysandra was involved?" Rowan leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. He hasn't looked away, barely blinked, since the questioning began. Aelin feels naked as his eyes seemed to be raking in her every movement.

"Not-" she tries to think of how to phrase it in a way that respects her friend's privacy. "She wasn't involved in the same capacity I was."

"Are the others you know still working with Hammel?" Rowan asks, and Aelin gladly lets them move the conversation away from Lys. She wasn't comfortable digging into her friend's wounds when she wasn't around.

"I suspect Mulligan, Flynn, and Fletcher. They were extremely loyal, and as of the last time I saw them, very active in the business." Aelin fondly remembers the beat down she laid on Archer before their parting words. He sold them out, and she hopes for his sake that they never run into each other again.

Fenrys looks up, "What about Samuel?"

"What?" Aelin flinches, the question taking her back.

"Samuel Cortland," Rowan reiterates. "You named him as one of the employees in Hammel's custody but implied he's no longer active in the business. Where is he then?" He leans forward, and Aelin wishes she could shrink back. "Would he be willing to speak with us?"

"Children." Her voice comes out as gruffer than she intends. "We were kids. Not employees. It wasn't a mutual agreement. None of us could consent to what became of us."

Aelin is surprised by the emotion that makes itself known. She swallows back the tears that want to fall and stuffs her trembling hands under her thighs. The implication any of them had a choice in serving Arobynn was disturbing and utterly wrong.

The taste of skin between her teeth, blood crusting under her nails, and being surrounded in pitch-black darkness consume her. Aelin suddenly feels more ill than she had this morning.

"Of course, Aelin." Fenrys placates. "That's understood. We just need to know where Samuel is. He could be very useful to the investigation."

"Dead," Aelin throws the word out like a dying fish on the table. "He died."

It hurt to say that. Tears burned in the corners of her eyes. Sam dying was worse than talking about Arobynn. A million times worse.

Aelin tries to swallow the lead rock in her throat. Arobynn didn't deserve to be known. His legacy was of blood, abuse, and control. It belonged in the sewer alongside his corpse.

Sam, on the other hand, deserved to be known. He abandoned by the system, forgotten by his family, and still chose kindness above all else. Sam's story deserved to be told, and it killed Aelin that it hurt her so much to share it.

"How did he die?" Fenrys prods delicately.

"What?" Aelin asks dumbly, heart accelerating in her chest.

"How did Samuel die? Any details you can give are beneficial. and you agreed to cooperate." Rowan reminds her sternly.

Mala save her, she couldn't go into detail about how she found him. She couldn't. Aelin feels blood rushing up to her head, and the room seems to sway.

"Sam. He liked to be called Sam-" Is all Aelin manages to choke out. "Excuse me."

Pushing herself from the desk, she shakily bolts for the office door. Their complaints are silenced as the glass shuts behind her. Outside, Aelin can feel the trembling beginning in her hands and spreading up her arms.

Sweat beads on her forehead in the oppressive heat of the building, but when she rubs her face, it feels damp and cold to the touch.

Aelin frantically strides down the hall, eyes darting around madly for a bathroom door. Nausea was creeping up her throat, and she really didn't want to throw up in someone's trashcan. She knew she was moving quickly, that someone might see her and become alarmed, but anxiety made everything feel like it was moving in slow motion.

A dainty hand grips her elbow and tugs in gently. "Follow me, dear. I can help you."

Aelin's head is swimming, and she allows the calming voice to steer her back in the other direction. When the person pushes open the bathroom door and Aelin sees the navy blue stalls, she rips her arm away and falls to her knees before the porcelain bowl.

Long, slender fingers pull her hair back from her face and rub her shoulders as Aelin loses her breakfast. "You are okay," the voice consoles—a hand massages up her spine and soothes the aches there.

Aelin's whole body is shuddering now. Her stomach rolls over itself, and the muscles of her diaphragm are quaking with exertion. She doubts she could get to her feet if she tried. A strand of drool hangs from her lips, and Aelin would be humiliated if her head wasn't still reeling.

Gouged eyes. Bent fingers. Blood on her lips.

A wad of paper towels appears and dabs at her cheeks, which Aelin hadn't even realized were wet with tears. She failed to notice that her body was shuddering under the intensity of the sobs coming from her. The woman continues to pat her cheeks and nose. Then to her mortification, it swipes at the spit hanging from her mouth.

Mala end me now, she mentally pleads.

Aelin looks up to find a woman with raven hair and onyx eyes looking at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry, dear. I don't mean to overstep. I've been where you are before. Please don't be embarrassed."

Opening her mouth, Aelin makes to apologize, but another crackling sob breaks from her chest instead.

She's just tired. Tired of being sad. Tired of feeling sick. Tired of being unable to even say his name without breaking down.

Arms wrap around Aelin's shoulders and tug her into an embrace. She allows her face to burrow into the woman's blazer as the grief racks through her body.

"Oh, sweety. It's going to be alright. I promise whatever is going on right now will work out." Fingers rake through Aelin's hair soothingly. It turns her to jello in the woman's arms. Her presence was just so motherly in a way that Aelin sorely misses.

She holds Aelin tight until she's calm enough to hold a plastic cup of water without dropping it. The woman helps her stand and wipes the mascara smudges off her cheeks with a damp towel. "There you go," she tosses the towel in the trash when she deems Aelin presentable. "Brand new, again."

"Thank you," Aelin breathes out at last. "I don't even know what to say."

"Say nothing," the woman waves her hand. "I've been pregnant before. Hormones. Nausea. It isn't an easy ride, dear. Besides, no one comes to a police station for a good reason." The woman pulls a stick of gum from a purse sitting on the sink and offers it to her. Aelin accepts it gratefully.

"Has anyone told you that stress isn't good for you?" Her kind eyes bore into Aelin worriedly. "You look very pale."

"I've been told. Many times." Aelin rubs her forehead, an ache already forming there. "I just don't have much of a choice."

"What's your name? I'm Maeve." She smiles and extends a hand for Aelin to shake.

Aelin takes the hand, happy that they aren't trembling so badly. "Aelin."

"Do you have any name ideas for the baby?" Maeve's eyes glance down towards the slight swell of her belly a little wistfully.

Names? Aelin periodically forgot that the human growing inside of her would pop into the world and require such a thing. It was a far-off event where she had plenty of time to accommodate for things in her head. In reality, she was halfway through her fourth month.

Time was ticking.

"No. I don't have any ideas yet." Aelin admits.

Maeve pats Aelin's shoulder kindly. "That's just fine. Ignore my curiosity. You have plenty of time if-" she emphasizes, "you take better care of yourself."

There is a knock on the door. "Aelin, are you alright?"

Rowan.

"Yes. I'll be back in a minute," Aelin says through the door.

She waits until his footsteps echo back down the hallway before she makes towards the exit. Eager to leave the bathroom and the memories of her awkward breakdown with it. "Thanks again. Really. I appreciate it."

Aelin truly meant it despite the utter humiliation she felt.

"Let me walk you back to Rowan's office?" Maeve asked. "It's easy to get turned around in this building."

They walked in a comfortable silence back to the office. Maeve's demeanor is so tranquil it surprises Aelin when the demure woman pushes the door open without knocking. "I have a delivery for you boys."

"Chief?" Rowan stands up, confused.

What? Aelin blinks and turns back to the woman, noting the black and whites and the metal badge on the breast of her blazer. The same blazer Aelin had just cried on.

Blood rushed to her face, and her brain curdles in her skull. Of course, it was the law of Orynth whose arms she just broke down in. Adarlan's Assassin reduced to a ball of hormones clinging to the chief detective of Terrasen like a baby clinging to its mother.

"Has she caused trouble?" Rowan's eyes glint with steel.

If you've done anything to degrade me to my boss, the deal is off.

"Not at all. We ran into each other in the bathroom and had a lovely chat," Maeve brushes an invisible piece of dust from Aelin's shoulder. "I will let the three of you get back to business. You are in excellent company."

Aelin's lip quirks. Just the opposite. She loves me. Congratulations, you are already reaping the benefits of my presence.

"Oh, and Fenrys?" Aelin looks at Fenrys, who is actively ignoring them. "The reports you promised are late. Have them to my desk by the end of the day, please."

"Will do, Chief." Fenrys' reply is dry and lacks his usual pep.

Aelin notes the worried glance Rowan throws him, but he swiftly covers it with an expressionless mask. "I will make sure he gets it done."

What was that? Aelin tries to pry an answer from Rowan, but he avoids her look.

When Maeve leaves, the tension eases from the men's shoulders.

"You are trouble," Rowan tosses at her without venom.

Aelin picks up the cup of tea she left at his desk, glad it's still warm. "Yes, but only the best kind."

"We haven't laid out a single plan for weaseling out Arobynn," Fenrys makes an irritated face at them. "If either of you could focus for ten minutes, we can do the rest of the questioning later, but we need to start throwing out ideas."

"Did Rowan piss in your tea in the last ten minutes I was gone?" Aelin shoots back, not appreciating his sudden attitude.

"Thirty," Rowan says. "You were gone for thirty minutes. That's why I came looking for you. Also, ruining beverages is your thing, not mine."

Damn, had she been gone that long? A glance at the clock confirms he was correct.

When she turns back to Rowan, there is almost something like worry in his eyes? That couldn't be right, Aelin rubs that aching side of her head again. She needed to stop reading so deeply into things.

"We can continue with questioning later," Rowan announces. "Fenrys is correct in saying we need to start making plans. You've given us enough to work with for now."

They sat back in their chairs, pulled out more notepads, red pens, and sticky notes. Together, Aelin helped them form a list of potential places Arobynn would be laying low. Hotels, rental homes, and vacant manors. He had a taste for luxury Aelin knew he wouldn't sacrifice for anonymity.

Test results were still running on the Synth. Technicians had let them know it showed highly abnormal properties compared to average street drugs, and they promised to send them an extensive report when they were through.

Rowan had hushed any potential news stories about The Stag shooting. He didn't want anyone who may know Celaena to catch wind and start snooping around. Aelin was his best lead, which afforded her a certain level of discretion he acknowledged.

They didn't know about the Bane patrolling her block at night, keeping their eyes on the streets for unusual activity.

The clock ticked, and the light beaming through the winders grew warmer as the afternoon trickled away. It was nearly five o'clock when Rowan declared then done for the day, and Aelin was utterly exhausted.

"Come on," Fenrys offered her a hand to help her stand. "I can drive you by the prison. Aedion should be getting checked out as we speak."

"Thank you," Aelin accepts the help. Her feet ached, and she felt entirely drained. It was good Fenrys was offering a ride, or she'd have to call Dorian to come and get her.

Together, the three of them made their way to the parking lot. Conversation between them was sparse but not unpleasant. They'd fallen into a rhythm at some point while working together. It helped break up some of the awkwardness between her and Rowan.

Aelin hustled a little bit when she spotted Fenry's luxury car. She wanted to claim the front seat before Rowan did. Her gut couldn't handle the stress of riding the back.

Her fingers barely grazed the polished handle when Fenrys started yelling.

Arms wrapped around her waist, and Aelin's face throbbed as it found itself slammed into the asphalt. A loud explosion rattled her ears, and chunks of debris went flying through the air. A thick foggy smoke started filling the air, and she immediately started choking on it.

A dense weight lifts off her back, and hands grab her shoulders, rolling her body to face the clouded sky instead of the ground. Rowan is in her personal space immediately. He's speaking to her, but no sound is penetrating the ringing in her ears.

His hands are running along her arms, the side of her face, checking for injury. Aelin tries to ask him if he's alright, but he doesn't seem able to hear her either.

Suddenly, Fenrys is there, and he's grabbing them both by the arms. They are moving away at a sprint. Fenrys is yelling, but the smoke is stinging her eyes, and even seeing is becoming hard.

There is another explosion, and Aelin can feel the tremors beneath the soles of her shoes as the three of them hit the ground once more.

People are pouring out of the precinct. Aelin spies Cheif Maeve at the front of them, ordering people out of the building. Red and blue lights reflect off the smoke, and she knows that ambulances must be on their way.

Rowan is lying beside her. She hadn't noticed the rips in the back of his suit jacket at first, but there were long gouges in the material, and smoke wafted off a couple of scorch marks. The fact he'd thrown himself over her body and shielded her from the explosion was only starting to register when something warm squeezed her hand.

Are you okay? Green eyes were scouring her body for wounds.

I'm fine, Aelin assures him. She's more concerned about the spots on the back of his suit growing wet as he bled.

"Someone blew up my car," Fenrys is gaping at the spot where his vintage ride used to be. All that remained was a roughed-up frame that was lit ablaze like a campfire.

"Gods," Aelin breathed out, the ringing in her ears dying down. "I almost died."

Rowan hadn't let go of her hand and made no move to do so as his eyes fixed on the burning car. "That was meant for us."

He didn't have to elaborate for Aelin to understand. Whoever had placed the bomb hadn't been targeting her, but Rowan and Fenrys. They arrived and left work together. The bomb wasn't there when they got to the precinct this morning, so someone must have placed it while they were inside.

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" Fenrys runs a dirty hand through his hair.

Sirens wailed as paramedics filed into the parking lot. Other detectives and officers were starting to approach them. Firefighters approached the car with extinguishers and began to tame the burning fire.

Aelin didn't have an answer. Just the sinking feeling that the game they'd entered into had more players than she'd thought.

Here is part one of the mass updates! Thank you SO much for reading. I’ve gotten so much feedback and love on this fic it’s been so wonderful 💚

I do have an ✨IMPORTANT QUESTION✨

Would you all prefer I have tag lists specific to certain fics or an overall tag list for ships? So one tag list for all of my rowaelin fics, one for all my quinlar fics, or would you like me to keep it as I have been? Please let me know! ✨

Tag list- Let me know if you would like to be added or removed. :D ( names in bold won’t tag)

@thisismylibrary

@highladywhitethrone

@bee55

@royalsqueeze

@rowaelin-cressworth

@booknerdproblems

@sjmships

@ladyfireheart-and-buzzard

@wordsxstars

@rowaelinismyotp

@courtofjurdan

@emmiesbook

@killian-me-slowly

@miserablemusings

@aelinchocolatelover

@booksbqueen

@flamingveritas

@tomtenadia

@fromthelibraryofemilyj

@loudphantomdragon

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato

@superspiritfestival

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@nish247

@vasudharaghavan

@maybekindasortaace

@mariamuses

@frosted-crackers

@foughtconquered

@live-the-fangirl-life

@ghostlyrose2

#coffeeshopau #rowaelin #throne of glass #angst #aelin #fanfic #rowan whitethorn

181 notes · View notes

bellylivesthepoguelife · 3 years

Text

i need you. [part 2]

Note: I can’t say “THANK YOU” enough to @mbabystein for beta-ing this! I sent it when I was *thought* I was done, and she said, “hang on a sec.” After discussing, I added 1,000+ words to it, and it is SO much better than what I initially wrote! I can’t WAIT to hear what y’all think of this one! ;)

Also! I got this request a few days ago and it fit SO perfect that i HAD to use it for part2!

Request: Hey can I request "I just want you to hold me." with jarah b??!💗

Word Count: 2.8K

(Part 1)

It's an hour later when their tears stop, and a numb, tingling sensation creeps into their bones. They don't speak for the longest time, each unable to escape the funnel of thoughts ringing too loud in their heads. Sarah is the first to break the silence. Sitting up straighter from where she was slouched against John B's chest. She doesn't look at him as she speaks.

"How mad are you." It's not phrased like a question even though it is.

She feels him swallow and clear his throat. "I'm not mad, Sarah."

Her eyes almost roll, and she's thankful that they're not looking at each other. "What are you then?" Silence. "I know you're feeling something."

His head makes a soft thud as he rests it against the wall he's leaning against. She'd bet a good amount of money that his eyes are closed as well.

"So many things."

She tries to ignore the thumping of her heart, tries to even out the quickening of her breaths. "Please tell me." She whispers. "I need to know what you're thinking."

There's more silence as he forms his thoughts. "I'm scared." He confesses.

She wraps her arms around him, hoping she can make him feel some of the comfort he'd been providing her. "Me too."

"How are you feeling?" His hands run up and down her arms, his unconscious way of comforting her.

"I'm terrified." A kiss is pressed to her hair, and the tenderness of it catches her off guard. The tears come before she even realizes, and she sits up straight, wiping at her eyes. "And I want to stop crying!"

John B smooths her hair back a couple times. "It's okay, you can cry."

"I don't want to cry. I want to talk."

He pulls his knee up to rest his arm it so he can still play with Sarah's hair or rub her back. "So let's talk."

She's quiet for a long time, staring straight ahead. John B stays silent, allowing her the time to think and gather her thoughts but he's still the first to break the silence. "You know if you want to talk about things, you have to actually say the words you're thinking?" He smiles and plays with a piece of hair before tucking it behind her ear. "Don't shut me out, Val. Please. Let me into that pretty head of yours. Let me help you carry some of this." Sarah turns to look at the man sitting on the floor with her, the only thing he wants is to help her. "You can start from anywhere, and we'll work our way through it."

Nodding, she takes a breath and allows him into the hurricane of her thoughts "Okay, well obviously I'm going to get fat--bye-bye bikinis..." She rolls her eyes and John B has to focus on not letting a smile break out on his face; because of course that would be the first thing out of Sarah Cameron's mouth. "...and I'm going to get sick all the time, which is obviously no fun." John B echoes something that sounds like "definitely no fun" and the commentary makes her smile. "Then there's telling everyone, and--fuck--what is everyone going to think." She runs a hand through her hair. "Who even is everyone? I don't exactly have the best parental figures in the world. My dad and my brother are in prison. How am I going to be able to even look at Wheezie." John B nods. "We obviously have to tell JJ, Pope, and Kie, and they're just gonna give us even more shit for being irresponsible."

"I think they may surprise you."

"Really?" She deadpans. "You really think they're going to be excited about this and not give us any shit?"

He sits up straighter. "I don't know about any shit, especially knowing JJ, but he'll just give it to me. I think they'll be nicer than you think."

"They're gonna be weird about it I know it." John B doesn't comment, and she shakes her head to herself. "Can you get me a drink?"

"Of course." He knew better than to push. Especially given the current high-stress environment, he decides changing the topic might be a better route. "When did you find out?" He stands up to stretch before walking over to the mini fridge in the corner to grab a couple waters that he knew would be stashed inside.

She pulls her knees to her chest, and rests her chin on top. Her arms come to hold each other in the pyramid of space her legs make. "This morning."

"Before you called me?" He clarifies, walking back over and handing her a water before moving to sit on her bed.

She nods in agreement as she takes a sip of water, standing up and stretching before moving to sit next to him.

They sit side by side, against the wall that the dorm-standard twin bed was pushed up against, legs extended out, Sarah's head on his shoulder, while John B's arm rest across her thigh. Sarah rubbed his arm, giving him time to process.

"We should probably get you to a doctor," is the first thing to come out.

Her body tightens when she realizes what he might be insinuating. She tries to seem nonchalant, aloof, as she gauges him warily. "Why?"

"I mean, isn't that what you're supposed to do?"

"I guess..." The impulse to narrow her eyes at him is intense.

"Well, I'm assuming there's some medicine, or something that you have to take, right?" His eyebrows furrow together, and he looks at where his hand rubs circles into her thigh. "Or something to help you with getting sick all the time?"

Sarah looks up at him as he continues, but she's more comforted knowing that his only concern is her.

"There's tests you have to get too, right? Like--I don't know blood tests or something? I don't really know a lot about this." He looks down at the water bottle he's playing with in his right hand.

"Neither do I." She admits. Sarah Cameron knew how babies were made, obviously, and even had thought about having them with John B one day. One day that was years down the road, not when they were only 19. She didn't even know if John B even wanted kids. Sure, they had talked about it in passing but never with any serious intent. He and JJ were the free spirit, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants, don't-make-plans-more-than-a-year-in-advance kind of people. She wasn't expecting him to be excited by the news by any means. Hell, she's not even thrilled with the idea right now. But he's still here, with her. She knows he loves her. Has to keep reminding herself so the fears of "he's going to be so pissed" and "he's going to leave you" stay far away. Having him here helps reinforce it.

His breath hitches, and breaks her train of thought. "I mean, they have to make sure you're okay, right?" His words are coming a bit quicker now. "That you're okay. That you and- and..."

She meets his eyes, and sees nothing but fear and concern there. Her hand rubs against his on her leg. "You can say it, John B, it's okay."

His eyes close, and he clears his throat. "That you... and the baby... are okay." He whispers. His breath jerks again just before she sees the first tear slide down his cheek.

"John B." She has to wonder if this is how he felt this morning, when he was still unaware of the situation. Only knowing that she was hurting. She straddles his legs, gently pulling his shoulders from the wall and into her embrace. "It's okay. We're going to be okay."

"I know." It comes out sharper than he probably intends, but he's quick to cover it up. "Sorry." He pulls back, running a hand over his face. "Anyway, what else did you want to talk about."

"I want to talk about you."

He gives a humorless laugh. "We're not talking about me, Sarah."

"You're a part of this situation, too." She gives him a look that dares him to defy her. "So, yes, we're talking about you."

"I'm not the one going through this."

He's deflecting and she knows it. "Maybe not, but you're involved just as much as I am. This is half of you, too."

"Dammit, Sarah!" His outburst startles both of them. She sits back on her heels, legs still on either side of him. "I'm trying to help you! Trying to--be strong for you because I know how scared you are. I don't care about how I feel--I don't want to talk about me because I'm the one that put you in this situation in the first place! So just--just let me take care of you! Please!"

As painful as it is to watch him break, she knows that this is what he needs. Sarah immediately pulls him into her, again. This time his hands wrap around her back, squeezing lighter than usual. She holds his head to her and plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, taking on the supportive role, and allowing him to be the one to break down for once. "I'm so sorry."

She pulls back enough to place a kiss to the side of his head. "It's not your fault. Vlad, we're going to be okay, I promise. It'll be okay." She's not sure if she's trying to convince herself or him, and she doesn't know who needs to hear it more.

It's as if the tears shed stimulate the need to make the fear known because he's pulling away to put his hand on either side of her face. "Sarah," there are still tears falling, and Sarah thinks there's no way she deserves the man sitting in front of her. "You're already getting sick. You're probably only going to get worse! And you're here, and I'm in the OBX, and I don't know the first thing about any of this! I don't know how to take care of a baby! I know they're expensive, so how the hell am I going to be able to support one when I've never even held one! And now there's one inside of you, and..." the thought seems to remind him of something else, because all of a sudden he's frantic. "And you're going to have to go through labor to get it out--oh god. Oh god--"

"John B." He's going to have a panic attack if she doesn't interrupt his spiraling thought process. "John B, look at me." His hands have moved to his head. She's pulling at them, hoping that looking at her while she speaks will ground him.

"You didn't ask for this, Sarah!" He pulls his hands away, and the anguish in his eyes brings tears to her own.

"You didn't either!" The short laugh that leaves her throat is unexpected even to her. "Babe, I love you, but you are completely freaking out. You make it sound like I just told you I only have 6 months to live."

He doesn't respond, and she feels a tug in her chest.

"What do you need, JB." Her voice is soft as she brushes a thumb under his eye. "What can I do to help you?"

There's a ragged breath, another couple moments of no one speaking. "Can you... I just want you to hold me. Please." Sarah's arms are locked around him in an instant, and the confession brings both of them to tears. Just like earlier, they allow themselves to feel the push and pull of the emotions that come in waves.

"This isn't a death sentence." She breaks the silence thinking maybe he needs the clarification. He said he doesn't know anything, but she hopes he at least knows this much. "I'm pregnant. Not dying." She kisses his shoulder to reiterate. "Yeah, you live in the OBX, but I can take a break from classes--"

"I don't want you to have to do that." He interrupts.

"It wouldn't be forever." She concedes. "And if I didn't want to do that, I could always switch to online. Point is: there's ways around that." She runs her hands through his hair, giving him another grounding technique. "Babies are expensive, yeah, but we've got some of the gold money to hold us over, and that's more than enough to support us and a baby." There's a pause, and he nods, rubbing a hand across his face to wipe his cheeks. The tears have subsided for the most part now, and Sarah's hoping that her words are getting through to him. "And yes, I will have to go through labor. But that's way down the road, and we will be able to talk through all of this so we will know what to expect, and make plans so we're prepared."

His eyes slide closed, and he mentally prepares to be his most vulnerable. "Sarah, I can't lose you."

"And you won't." A kiss to his forehead brings a smile to his lips. "You're not."

His arms wrap around her torso again, holding her like his only lifeline. "I'm just--I guess I'm scared that you're going to be upset with how this is going to change everything... you'll blame me... resent me..."

Sarah presses her forehead to his. Looking in his eyes so he knows she's serious. "That's how I felt this morning. I thought you wouldn't want it... wouldn't want me. I mean it's not like this is something we planned on." He starts to explain himself, most likely in disbelief that she would think that of him, but she cuts him off. "But now you're here. Holding me... and we're talking... and now that I know you're not angry and resentful... I don't know. There's a part of me that might be a little excited." His face softens then, her confession easing the tension that had taken a permanent hold on his body. "Do you think that maybe... maybe at some point down the line you might be excited, too?"

He kisses her then, hard and long, like there's a time limit. "I can be excited." He breathes. "I just can't handle the thought of you suffering, or hurting."

She kisses him this time. "I'm pregnant." She repeats. "I'm not dying. There's going to be some hard things, sure, but there's going to be some really beautiful things, too." He smiles then, and she thinks they might be okay.

"Do you think..." He starts, but then thinks better of it.

"Do I think what?"

He shakes his head and looks a bit embarrassed. "No, it's dumb."

She smiles at the change in their conversation, wondering how they both aren't suffering from emotional whiplash. "No it's not. Please ask me. What do you want to know?"

John B plays with his signature bandana and takes a minute to gather his courage, though it comes at the price of making sure there is no chance of eye contact when he asks. "Do you think... that maybe... I might be able to see the test?"

Whatever it was that she thought her boyfriend was going to ask, it sure as hell wasn't that. She just stares at him while her brain takes a minute to process the request. "You..." When she realizes what he's asking, she immediately jumps up to retrieve the piece of plastic from her desk drawer. "yeah. yeah, of course." She scrambles back on the bed, and sits on the edge of where he now had his legs folded underneath him. She hands over the test, and watches warily.

His hands are on both sides of it as he studies the two lines that shifted their whole lives. "Wow." He breathes, glancing up to see her smiling back at him. "Wow."

"Yeah." She agrees. "It's kind of crazy, huh."

"Crazy..." It's as if he can't stop looking at it. "So there really is a baby inside of you."

She nods, though he can't see it because he's still staring at the test in his hands. "There is. A baby that is half of you and half of me." He looks embarrassed again, and she can't help but wonder what's going through his head. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Can I..." He doesn't elaborate and doesn't look at her.

Here eyebrows furrow. "Can you what, John B?"

He doesn't answer, but moves to sit beside her, even though they're facing each other. His hand reaches out hesitantly, and her throat tightens with emotions that she refuses to let show. "Can I?"

She closes her eyes to stop the tears from falling, and nods silently. She can sense his presence close to her, and the feather-light pressure of his hand on the stomach forces a whimper to escape her throat. She feels his other hand brush the side of her face, and leans into the touch.

"I love you, Sarah Cameron." is the whisper that leaves his mouth before he presses it to hers.

#i need you. part2 #i need you.#jarah b #john b x sarah cameron #obx writing #outer banks writing #john b routledge #sarah cameron #protective john b #jarah b angst #jarah b fluff #belly writes

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