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jschllatt · 3 years

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𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 | 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

Prompt: (Based off of the song I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys) Clay’s recent fame leads to a difficult decision to be made. Months later, he’s still regretful. You seem to be fine, so why can’t he move on, too?

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, slight angst

Pairing: Dream x GN!Reader

Words: 2.5k

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I spent a week on this and idk how I feel about it but I hope you enjoy <3

Clay had been consumed by an overwhelming emptiness, his entire body hollow as the lack of your presence took its toll.

Two months. Two devastating months had passed since he’d made a grave mistake, and now he was facing the agonous repercussions. He was a mess—anyone could see it. Between his long, disheveled hair, the light scruff that covered his face, and his bloodshot eyes, it was clear that Clay’s mind had been somewhere else. And it had been. Every passing second was a constant reminder of his solitude, causing the emptiness in his heart to evolve into a deep, incessant void, no longer inhabited by the happiness you had ingrained in him just months before. Why? Clay was overcome with a sense of deep regret as a result of your absence, feeling more alone than he ever had before. What could have possibly happened to make him feel this way? To make you leave? The answer was rather simple—he was just too damn busy.

Clay had dedicated a considerable amount of time to his career, filming or streaming during the little free time he had. As he grew more popular, the time that you had spent in each other’s presence dwindled significantly, each day becoming lonelier than the last. Your interactions with him had shortened drastically—what were once long, lingering kisses placed on your forehead had devolved into chaste pecks, void of any true care or meaning. While you understood entirely that Clay’s career was important, you found yourself slowly losing hope.

You realized it one day as he was filming.

It was a day no different from the last. Clay was recording a Manhunt video in his office, his voice shrill as he begged his friends for mercy. He was always loud when he filmed, and though you had chastised him for it countless times, he never listened. A loud sigh escaped your lips, going unheard, and you shifted your position on the couch, uncomfortable. Everyday seemed to be the same—each as lonely and frustrating as the last. Clay’s ignorance only fueled your apathy towards your relationship more, and you couldn’t help but find yourself growing hopeless at the thought of Clay being unaware of your unhappiness. Your troubled thoughts continued until a week had passed—a long, grueling week in which you had hopelessly tried to burrow your apathetic thoughts. But you couldn’t. You were giving up. The realization of your unhappiness made a pit grow in your stomach. You knew that you cared about Clay, but you couldn’t keep living the way you were—tired, unacknowledged, pitiful.

And so, you let him go.

Clay was editing by the time you gathered the courage to face him, your stomach nauseous as you approached his office door. A light knock signaled your presence, and Clay muttered a quiet ‘come in,’ his voice raspy after hours of unuse. Blowing out a breath, you entered the room, your expression sullen upon noticing Clay’s inattentiveness. His eyes were still glued to his monitor, deeply focused on editing rather than your presence. You waited for a few seconds, silently hoping he would pay you any mind, but he didn’t. A wave of disappointment washed over you, though you managed to keep your voice steady as you declared, “We should break up.” Clay tensed in his seat, suddenly fixated on your words rather than the hours worth of footage he was editing. His chair turned with a quiet squeak as he swiveled around to face you. “What?” You sensed the subtle indignation of his tone as he squinted confusedly at your abrupt words. “We should break up.” You were much quieter this time, unable to meet his eyes as your words died silently in the tense air. You wrung your hands together anxiously as you leaned back on your heels, feeling awkward under Clay’s intense gaze. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you should’ve just stayed quiet and dealt with it. Maybe—

“Okay.”

Immediately, your eyes flickered up to meet his, filled with a silent desperation as you searched his emerald irises for any indication of his intentions. Nothing.

“Okay?”

Clay remained silent for a moment, his body stiff as he leaned back in his noisy chair. His expression was inscrutable as he stared at you blankly, trying to find the right words to say as he watched your face remain solemn at his confound brevity. His voice was level as he spoke, “I know I’ve been busy lately. We haven’t spent a lot of time together and that’s my fault. I could sit here and promise to change, but we both know I can’t—not right now.” Though you felt your heart shatter, you knew he was right. His job was too important, too time consuming.

A nod signaled your understanding and you turned to leave, feeling overwhelmingly dejected.

“Hey.” You turned around to meet Clay’s eyes, noticing the hurt that was settled in them. “I hope you know I care about you.” You fought the urge to cry and shot him a watery smile, struggling to keep your tone unwavering as you agreed, “Me too.”

Two months had passed.

Clay had been struggling. Everyone knew it—his friends, family, even his fans. It was clear that the once cheerful, happy man had become melancholy, suddenly depressed and unable to hide his unhappiness on camera. There had been numerous speculations of why this was, but only few knew the truth. Sapnap was among one of them and had been staying at Clay’s for the past month, creating content with his best friend while simultaneously making sure he was okay. Though two months had passed, Clay was still a mess. Perhaps it was because it hadn’t hit him that day. He had momentarily convinced himself that his career was more important than you, but deep down he knew that wasn’t true. He wanted so desperately to reach out to you, but assumed you had moved on—another incorrect belief of his. Clay cooped himself up in his home, never leaving unless it was urgent. He had sunken into a deep depression and the only remedy for his pain was you. You. He treated you so poorly. Everyday was a constant reminder of your absence and it was his fault. He could’ve made more time for you, or at least spent the free time he had with you.

Remorseful thoughts ran through his head everyday, nearly driving himself crazy, and Sapnap knew he needed to get Clay out of the house.

“There’s a party tonight, I think we should go.” Clay immediately denied the offer with a shake of his head, grumbling to himself. His best friend sighed indignantly, blowing out a breath of frustration before stating, “You don’t have a choice, you need to get out of the house.” Sapnap stood his ground, arms crossed as he stared at Clay sternly. A minute had passed and Clay, aware of his best friend’s stubbornness, gave in begrudgingly, “Fine, but only for an hour.” Sapnap grinned triumphantly, exiting the room with a smirk. He slammed the door behind him, heading back to his room while yelling, “And shave, for fuck sake.” Clay shook his head, cracking a small smile at his friend’s words.

The party was overwhelming to say the least. Bodies swarmed the crowded living room, reeking of alcohol and sweat. Music blared from a speaker, a shrill, nearly deafening melody that was sure to give Clay a headache by the end of the night. The room was buzzing with conversation, every word drowning out in the loud atmosphere. Almost immediately, Clay was passed a beer, and he lifted the bottle to his lips to take a swig. If Sapnap was going to make him stay here, he may as well take some edge off while doing so. A few minutes had passed and he finished the bottle, discarding it in a bin nearby. “I’m gonna go get another drink.” Clay muttered to Sapnap, who was talking loudly to a group of people he’d recognized. His best friend patted his back in response, chuckling as he gave him a playful shove towards the kitchen. Stumbling through the drunken crowd, Clay soon broke free as he neared his destination. He grabbed a beer, opening it skillfully off of the edge of a table, and turned around wordlessly. Taking a big sip, he hoped to free his mind from thoughts of you. Though he wasn’t one to drink, especially when upset, Clay knew that, aside from you, alcohol was the only other solution to temporarily mask his pain. He’d already drank half before he warned himself to slow down, knowing that if he got too drunk, he’d probably do something he regretted. Turning around so he could rejoin Sapnap, Clay nearly dropped his drink on the floor, feeling his heart drop.

His eyes met yours. And then, he heard the music.

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner

Breathin’ in your dust.

Clay felt his breath hitch in his throat, noticing the surprise in your eyes as you stared at him, astonished. As he stood there, staring at you shamelessly, he regretted it—everything. He regretted how he neglected you, ignored you, prioritized all of the wrong things when the only right thing in his life was right in front of him: you. Memories flashed before his eyes, quick and familiar, yet saddening all the same. The way you smiled at him from across the room when he was filming, the way you held him when he was stressed, the way you spoke to him, softly, while he was streaming to check up on him. Everything.

I wanna be your Ford Cortina

I will never rust

You looked away, suddenly nervous, though the eye contact was all-too-familiar. You felt your heart begin to race as you processed every detail of Clay’s face—from his anxious expression to the dark circles beneath his eyes. He looked like a mess. But so did you. You mirrored most of his tired, dejected qualities because you, too, were hurting.

If you like your coffee hot

Let me be your coffee pot

Snapping you out of your daze, you felt a tug on your arm. “Hey, you alright?” Your friend asked worriedly. Nodding briskly, you muttered a quiet ‘yeah’ and smiled in a poor attempt to sound convincing. Seconds passed, and you could still feel the intensity of Clay’s burning gaze as your friend tugged you through the crowd, handing you a drink in the process. You dared to look up, instantly locking eyes with Clay, and swallowed thickly. You knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, not when he was looking at you like that—desperate, longing.

You call the shots, babe

I just wanna be yours

Lifting up the red solo cup to your lips, you downed its contents quickly, eliciting a few laughs and impressed hollers from your friends. You were never the type to drink, but you felt that it was necessary, especially when you knew Clay was still staring at you intently. Downing another shot, you risked glancing up towards Clay, but he was gone. Suddenly anxious as a result of his absence, you surveyed the room. Nothing. “I’m gonna go get a drink.” You said before you could stop yourself, not giving your friends the chance to answer you before you ventured into the kitchen. You tried to dodge the swaying, drunken bodies as you made your way quickly into the room, frowning upon entry. Clay wasn’t there either. You sighed, frustrated, and grabbed a beer, struggling to open it. You nearly laughed at your incompetence, feeling sadly nostalgic despite the humor you found in your struggles—Clay had always opened your beers, then teased you for being incapable. You fought back an onslaught of tears at the memory and sighed deeply, leaning against the table with your head in your hands.

Secrets I have held in my heart.

“Hey.” Your body jolted at the sound of his voice. Daring to turn around, you felt your chest constrict at the sight of him clutching your now-opened beer, a sad smile plastered on his tired features.

Are harder to hide than I thought.

“Hey.” You breathed. Clay passed the beer to your shaking hand, trying to ignore the way his fingers brushed against yours. Chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously as he tried to find the right words to say, Clay admitted, “I’m sorry.” A few quiet moments passed, though they felt like an eternity, and you replied simply, “Don’t be.” You tried to hide the tremor that shook your arm as you took another swig of your beer, noticing how Clay’s face fell in sudden disappointment. What? Did you say the wrong thing? You didn’t want Clay to feel guilty, to blame himself for your failed relationship though it was mostly his fault. Why? Because you cared about him. You could immediately sense the despair that washed over him. And, though you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the pure adrenaline from the moment, you hugged him.

Maybe I just wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

Clay tensed at your touch, wondering if the beer had gotten to him or if this really was happening. It was. He soon wrapped his arms around your waist, grip purposeful as he tugged you into him. Your head rested against his chest, the steady thumping of his heartbeat in your ear far more of a melodic sound compared to any music you’d ever listened to.

Wanna be yours

Clay swayed the two of you softly, resting his chin atop your head. You clung to him tightly, shutting your eyes as he held you, gentle. “I missed you so much.” You admitted before your mind could even process it. Clay chuckled, lowering his head so his lips were close to your ear, “I missed you more, baby.” You tried to fight the grin that plastered itself on your face as you took in his words, squeezing his torso with such force you were sure he’d explode. Clay went to speak again, caressing your sides so gently you could barely feel it, before being interrupted.

“Holy shit, there you are, dumbass!”

Sapnap.

Clay pulled away from you to glare at his best friend, trying to ignore the shit eating grin on Sapnap’s face as he glanced at you. “My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt...whatever the hell I just interrupted. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, but you clearly are.” Before either of you could respond, he left, shooting his friend a thumbs up before disappearing into the crowd. You couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction, noticing the slight rosiness Clay’s cheeks had suddenly sported, embarrassed. “Sorry about that, he…” Clay struggled to find the perfect word to describe his best friend, but trailed off. “Yeah.” You agreed, seemingly understanding what he meant despite his silence. Clay laughed, then. The sound was music to your ears, and when his smile faded, the two of you were serious again. Clay’s hand found refuge in yours as he began to speak, his face solemn as he confessed, “I lied. I can change. I will right now if you want me to—I’d do anything for you.”

Wanna be yours

You smiled lovingly at the man, interlocking the fingers of his hand that wasn’t already occupied in yours, and pulled him closer to you, wanting him near.

Wanna be yours

“Deal.”

#dream imagine #dreamwastaken imagine #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream angst #dreamwastaken angst #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt angst

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wordsnstuff · 3 years

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10 Mistakes to Avoid When Writing About Mental Illness

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Reinforcing Stereotypes

This goes without saying, but neurodivergent people (and characters) each experience and cope with their mental illnesses differently. Schizophrenia is not simply hallucinations. Depression is not simply feeling suicidal. Anxiety is not simply consistent fear or unease. Your character, depending on what causes/triggers their symptoms, will present their mental illnesses differently, both on the inside and outside. A person’s experience of mental illness is affected by their environment, their background, their priorities, their personality, and their other struggles. Reflect this in their story, rather than reading a long list of general symptoms and checking them off in your draft.

1 Symptom Sally

Mental illness affects every aspect of an individual’s life. It’s more complicated and far-reaching than simply “having a harder time than everyone else”. Depression, for instance, is frequently portrayed with an acute emphasis on the symptoms of fatigue, lack of motivation, and sadness. However, depression has a lot of symptoms that many aren’t aware are connected to the illness, such as executive dysfunction, irritability, and sickness. Even those with a general diagnosis of a mental illness aren’t going to have that diagnosis just because they feel sad a lot of the time. There must be more, and it must be shown.

Romanticizing Suicide

There’s a delicate balance between depicting the reality and gravity of suicidal thoughts/ideation and making it sound appealing. If you’re reading a story, narrated by a character who has suicidal tendencies, it’s inevitable that their thought process will justify or rationalize those thoughts. Approach this with care, and remember that as a writer, you have influence over your readers (whether intentionally or not), and you should prioritize the responsibility you have to avoid romanticizing suicide over the task of portraying it accurately. Some things simply hurt more than they help.

Generalizing Experiences

Mental illness is inconsistent. Some people display two or three symptoms that are easily recognized, but some experience symptoms most don’t even associate with those illnesses at all. For example, generalized anxiety disorder can present in individuals with a more physically debilitating set of effects, rather than primarily manifesting in feelings of fear or unease. Yes, anxiety is the state of being anxious, but it can also be sensory overload, executive dysfunction, flu-like illness, and fatigue. Every mental illness is unique to the individual who struggles with it, so be aware that your characters should be representing that reality as well.

Ignoring Coping Mechanisms

Most people who have a mental illness that has progressed to the point of seeking a diagnosis and perhaps treatment have established various levels of coping mechanisms. These can be things like substance abuse or self harm, but they can also be more subtle, like hyper-fixation on media they like or excessive reliance on friends or family. If you’re going to write a character with a mental illness, you should know what they have to do to get through the day. What exercises have they adopted to adapt to their situation? What effect have these mechanisms had on their lifestyle and relationships?

Illnesses Having No Effect On Relationships

Mental illness, especially after having struggled with them for a long period, affects who we are, how we behave and interact, and changes our priorities and thought process. It’s inevitable that it will impact our relationships with other people. In order to accurately depict this experience, you have to also know the characters on the other side, who are maintaining a relationship with your neurodivergent character. What are their thoughts on mental health? How well do they understand what your character is experiencing? Are they more likely to want to be there for or distance themselves from the character because of their mental illness? Strain on relationships can be a very distinct part of a neurodivergent person’s experience with mental illness, and it’s important to represent that. The stigma is still very real and shows up regularly, even in little ways, and in a more accommodating world.

Extreme Cases Only

Some people experience mental illness on a chronic level, others do not. There’s Seasonal Affective Disorder, which tends to only present symptoms in certain periods of the year for various reasons, for example. It could be classified as a “less severe” form of depression, and it’s very common. Not all depression is the same, and it doesn’t always result in severe cases of suicidal ideation or self harm. If you only depict characters in the most extreme cases, who experience their symptoms at the highest level at all times, you may be reinforcing stereotypes about neurodivergence that have taken decades to dismantle. Not everyone with mental illness has an extreme case, and pretending they do can reinforce the idea that all neurodivergent people are “crazy”.

Good Days vs. Bad Days

Neurodivergent individuals usually experience their symptoms on a wide spectrum of severity. There are good and bad days, and everything in between. Sure, some days, one may experience virtually no symptoms and be very happy and productive, and be totally unable to maintain their composure on others. However, the majority of the time is occupied by a middle ground. Days where a person isn’t constantly on the verge of a panic attack, but they struggle to accomplish their typical agenda, and they feel a variety of symptoms at noticeable, but more manageable level. Symptoms can also intensify steadily and endure for variable periods of time.

Curing Mental Illness With Romance

Let me say this clearly, and insist you don’t argue: mental illness cannot be cured by a relationship. I admit that new relationships or positive attention can offset symptoms, but if a character’s mental illness (such as depression or anxiety) miraculously resolves because a new partner comes into their life, they either weren’t mentally ill in the first place, or you have misunderstood mental illness. There can be months or even years where someone can go without experiencing their symptoms at a noticeable level, but they will always be neurodivergent, and a new partner isn’t going to change that. That portrayal minimizes the experience of mental illness and trivializes symptoms people suffer with every single day. Do not do this. Please. Just don’t. You can say your character has prolonged period of sadness, but you cannot slap the word “depression” on them, then have all their symptoms disappear because they’ve got a hot date.

Not Every Illness Is Caused By Trauma

This is simply a point of knowledge more writers should have a grasp of. Mental illness can be caused by genetics, chemical imbalances, deficiencies, severe and prolonged stress, longterm health conditions, social isolation or loneliness, etc. It’s natural that in a fictional story where mental illness may be an important aspect, that trauma is one of the more sensational causes to apply to your character, but if you have a cast with diverse experiences of neurodivergence, it’s unlikely that all of them will have a basis in trauma. Neurodivergence is not a one-size-fits-all.

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daughterofanarcissistwoman · 3 years

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Trauma Bonding

(The writer here refers to an ex but this applies to familial relationships as well.)

You may feel pretty crazy over there in your trauma bonded trance for someone who mistreated you, but know there are people actually eating dirt out there and making more sense than some of the well-meaning advice I heard while I was getting over various forms of heartbreak.

We are told to stop fixating, face the fear of moving on, focus on yourself, and that time heals all wounds. When in fact, the symptoms of a traumatic reaction to a trauma bond make these very things feel nearly impossible.

What’s more, when taken in the context of trauma bonding, prolonged grief over the loss of a relationship is far from irrational, even when that relationship was a toxic one. If you feel more stunned and immobilized as time wears on, this is the reaction of your organism actually working to protect you from a perceived, ongoing threat.

You are not “crazy”.

Your body’s physiological state is just trying to communicate with you in a way that you may not quite understand yet.

There are people all over the world who experience cravings for dirt or clay. This is called geophagy and clearly sounds so insane that people feel ashamed to admit their cravings. Yet research has found that these cravings may indicate a lack in bodily mineral content or may function as the body’s protective response to pathogens in pregnant women or children. The content of dirt or clay may serve as a protective barrier in the stomach.

What may FEEL mentally and physiologically irrational, actually makes sense. This does not mean that anemic people should make themselves a nice dirt snack with their coffee this afternoon. It does mean that feeling estranged, ashamed, and ignoring the REALITY of the craving, without looking further into what it indicates, will never resolve their organism’s unmet need.

What is trauma bonding?

I only started to understand trauma bonding when I stopped feeling ashamed and started trusting my body’s own physiological messengers.

Breaking a trauma bond can feel agonizing. What’s the point of trying to accept the reality of a toxic relationship, go no contact, and try to move on with your life when you only feel worse as time wears on?

Breaking a trauma bond comes with intense withdrawal symptoms, flashbacks, cravings for the toxic person, compulsive thoughts about what happened, and an anxious state that may make you feel like you are going backward, without abate.

This is going to sound counterintuitive at first, but these very symptoms are confirmation that staying away from the toxic relationship is absolutely imperative to your health. This is because trauma resides as a physiological response to a perceived threat. Your organism knows and reacts, at the core, gut, and instinctual level, when a person or situation is harmful.

And while you may be fully consciously aware NOW that you are no longer in the relationship, your body is still registering an ongoing threat. This is manifesting in symptoms that certainly make you feel like you are going “crazy” — or maybe even make you feel as if you were never meant to stay away in the first place.

But all this DOES NOT mean that your body is trying to indicate to you that you are forever cosmically tied to that dirtbag who mistreated you, used you, and broke your heart. It means that the trauma that may have occurred before the relationship, during the relationship, and when the relationship ended, continues to live inside of you. It continues to live as a memory and echo that has no orientation to time and place.

You are feeling this way because, physiologically, you still don’t feel safe.

You will NOT be the person who longs for the person who mistreated you forever. But it’s going to be hard to get there if your strategy is to grit your teeth, brace yourself, and steel even more energy in trying to fight your body’s frantic physiological responses to the trauma in the trauma bond, through sheer will, when you are already frozen in emergency mode.

Stay with me. I’ll explain.

We look into trauma bonding as a way to explain, romanticize, and decode the characteristics of a relationship that feels or once felt so precious.

Here’s the gut-punch that usually gets lost —when you’re in a trauma bond, and the bond “breaks,” the trauma remains.

If you’re a cookie in an Oreo and the other cookie leaves, guess who is stuck with what seems like even more trauma filling than you started with?

This “trauma filling” can help to explain why your mind, body, and soul are registering a frenetic, obsessive, red level, emergency breaker craving for a toxic ex, toxic relationship, or situation.

The Trauma Bond

The reason for this hyper-aroused-anxiety-trance lies in some part to the nature of trauma bonding itself. Trauma bonds are formed when your organism registers that you are in danger.

According to “The Betrayal Bond,” a book written by Patrick Carnes, who developed this concept, “trauma bonds are the dysfunctional attachments that occur in the presence of danger, shame, or exploitation. Trauma bonds occur when we are bonding to the very person who is the source of danger, fear, and exploitation.” They involve seduction, betrayal, and high intensity.

They also involve a seemingly endless sense of helplessness and hopelessness. Carnes wrote, “This type of bonding does not facilitate recovery and resilience but rather undermines those very qualities within us.”

Throughout the relationship, your organism assessed the threat and continuously mobilized energy for you to fight or flee. Yet the trauma in trauma bonding creates a cyclical, repetitive cycle that contains your ability to protect yourself, trust yourself, feel your body’s physiological reactions or evolve out of your current state, even when your partner is gone.

Instead of fighting or fleeing, you remain frozen and clinging with an “insane level of loyalty, to an impossible, unresolvable, toxic, overwhelming, or cosmically doomed bond.” A person chained to this type of bond “disbelieves the obvious and accepts the impossible.”

The following are some signs of trauma bonding, which I’ve adapted from Carnes:

• When you continue to be fixated on people who hurt you and who are no longer in your life.

• When you crave contact with someone who has hurt you and who you know will cause you more pain.

• When you continue to revolve around people who you know are taking advantage of you or exploiting you.

• When you are committed to remaining loyal to someone who has betrayed you, even though their actions indicate few signs of change.

• When you are desperate to be understood, validated, or needed by those who have indicated they do not care about you.

• When you go to great lengths to continue to help, caretake, or consider people who have been destructive to you.

These types of relationships capitalize on old wounds and previous traumas.

As a bigger and separate topic, there are a lot of reasons for why we may be vulnerable to trauma bonding, to begin with, including a deep desire to heal a prior hurt. We do this by subconsciously recreating the prior situation, down to the very exploitative, dangerous, or shameful elements that existed in the prior trauma. Down to the type of toxic, emotionally unavailable, or developmentally stunted person in the prior situation.

The reasons why we get into these types of bonds, the reasons we stay, and the reasons why we can’t let them go are interrelated, and at least one thing remains the same: our body stores these memories physiologically, without a time or date stamp. The memories can make us feel like we are in an endless cycle of trauma and pain, with or without the relationship.

The Trauma

Trauma is a big concept, that lives on much developing academic ground. I’m no expert, and what I’m saying is informed by the work of trauma researchers Peter Levine, Bessel van der Kolk, and Patrick Carnes, but this is simply my interpretation.

Viewing your seemingly irrational reactions to heartbreak through a trauma-informed lens will reduce some part of the shame that comes with continuing to live in a body that is suspended in a hyper-aroused and frenetic state long after we are told that we should be over a relationship or situation.

There are different kinds of trauma. Some are the types of trauma we are typically aware of —responses to natural disasters, war, abuse, genocide, and other atrocities. We associate those traumas with the development of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which has helped to explain how victims survive in dire circumstances, including why the victims end up turning against themselves and becoming loyal to the abuser, as in the case of Stockholm Syndrome.

Understanding trauma begins when you remove judgment from the equation about the degree of atrocity that must exist in order to define trauma as trauma. There are other aspects of trauma, such as those that involve the body’s response to betrayal, childhood experiences, and interpersonal relationship trauma. A traumatic reaction is a completely subjective thing. There are more possible situations/origins of trauma than there are people.

Trauma lives inside the body as a physiological state. It will be easier to become aware of the manifestation of this state and to give it credibility if you realize that trauma can occur in the absence of abusers, victimizers, and overtly dire situations. You can have a traumatic reaction to anything or anyone that your body perceives as a threat, including a break in attachment with even the most well-meaning, non-intentionally insidious, but emotionally empty people.

Peter Levine has defined trauma as “Any experience which stuns us like a bolt out of the blue; it overwhelms us, leaving us altered and disconnected from our bodies.” It is difficult to access coping mechanisms while in this overwhelmed state. This reaction can become more intense when the relational trauma occurs for long periods of time, with intermittent reinforcement, and when it is layered on top of relational trauma that occurred in childhood.

The stunned shock of anything that your body perceives as a threat, including a betrayal or a breakup, can live inside of us as a physiological state, even when we are not in present danger — when we are out of the breakup, moved out, and presumably moved on. Our bodies are engaged in a survival response even when out of the danger — which manifests itself as a freeze state that makes all the negative emotions you felt while in the relationship freeze within you as well.

What is this? Why does this happen?

The Freeze State.

It happens as a result of a completely natural human reaction to a potentially threatening situation. Peter Levine has explained how trauma develops in his book, “Waking the Tiger.” When faced with perceived danger or challenge, we become energetically aroused, mobilized, and poised to pounce, respond, and defend. This is the reason why weaklings are able to lift cars in order to rescue children. Our bodies were built to generate tremendous energy and appropriately constrict it so that it can be released. So we can fight or flee from threats for our very survival. When the energy is released, there is a tremendous sense of relief and somatic calm. There is no trauma. The situation makes sense to us because we witnessed our bodies working with us to resolve a threat.

So what happens to this tremendous, do-or-die energy isn’t released? When we feel we cannot fight or flee, as in the case of a trauma bond, there isn’t a discharge of this energy.

Instead, we hard stop freeze. Unlike other animals, our more highly evolved neocortex prevents an instinctual response of releasing this energy anyway, when the freeze state ends. Without the release, our body constricts this incredible bundle of energy and contains it in our nervous system. We are suspended in a highly mobilized emergency alert state, hypervigilant, and brimming with energy that our body now has to shift around, negotiate, and safety-valve slowly expel through adaptations that make us feel like we are experiencing an anxiety reaction. This too, is our body working for us, to prevent a nervous system meltdown.

This is trauma.

An example of this is when you brace yourself during the impact of a car accident and later find yourself completely motionless, your knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel, adrenaline coursing through you, heart rate is racing, breathing heavily, with almost no memory of the event.

Why won’t our “smarter” brain allow us to discharge this energy during the freeze state? Again, your body is trying its best to protect you. When that tremendous force of arousal energy is first triggered, it makes us feel up to the task, positive, and intensely alive. When the release is thwarted and is instead subsumed inwardly, we associate the energy with intensely negative emotions.

All those feelings and all the energy that you might have expelled during the relationship in a fight or flight response — all the anger, the shame, and the fear — now reside within you and may feel like are directed TOWARD you.

Our “smarter” brain attempts to protect us by negotiating these emotions within our circuitry because it believes that this work will protect us from experience sheer terror of the release. We fear releasing them because the energy itself is so strongly associated with danger, betrayal, and fear. You are now the home of negative energy that was never meant to be yours.

What does this have to do with your inability to let go of a toxic relationship?

Why does all of this slow you down when it comes to commonplace advice like “stop fixating, face the fear of moving on, and focus on yourself?”

Breaking trauma bonds.

The reason it feels like you can’t “break” a traumatic bond is because you are still suffering from your body’s adaptations to all of this chaotic, negative energy that is now stored inside. These very adaptations cause you to constantly review what happened, to fixate, to refrain from feeling fear and grief, and to obsess about the relationship.

• Anxiety.

The nervous system experiences trauma as a body feeling. In other words, your hyper-alert state lives on as symptoms that can be perceived as anxiety: increased heart rate, tension, agitation, flashbacks, shudders, muscle soreness, and racing thoughts.

All of this anxiety can feel unfair. We know it’s normal to feel grief over the loss of a relationship, but the hope is that we will feel some sense of relief once we get the courage to let go of someone we loved, but who we know is toxic, narcissistic, or emotionally unavailable. Hang on. Your body is communicating to you that internally, you still feel as if you are in danger. Because this anxiety state is so closely associated with the trauma bond, this may feel like a craving for your ex and the trauma bond, when it is in fact, a frantic message to stay away.

• Helplessness.

When exposed to personal trauma, the part of the brain that processes information, puts things into context, and communicates to you in narrative form shuts down. You are suspended in emergency activation mode, but without an ability to cope with the stress.

This is why no contact is so important. When exposed to anything that reminds you of your former partner, your nervous system triggers energy to communicate the presence of a threat but prevents you from consciously putting that threat into the context of what is occurring here and now.

In this state, it can feel hard to learn new things or assimilate information.

This is why it can feel like such a gut punch to see your ex or hear about his or her life, even after time has passed and you are sure “you got this.” It can leave you feeling helpless and hopeless.

Trauma bonds don’t “heal with time” because trauma doesn’t have a sense of time. Don’t expect to never feel triggered. Feeling triggered does not mean that you are “back to square one” when it comes to processing. It means that you are experiencing traumatic anxiety, which once again makes you feel like you are frozen and immobilized. This can lead you to feel depressed even though the current stressor is no longer around. Don’t lose hope. Even the smallest bit of awareness of what is actually occurring will help you to unfreeze out of this state, and this will get more automatic and manageable the more you increase this awareness.

• Flashbacks.

Because you are not able to put your physiological distress into a time and place context, you are not able to consciously recognize that the traumatic event happened in the past. This causes confusion between past trauma and current stressors. Your body, behind the scenes, may be experiencing today’s stressful day as a flashback to the past, as if the trauma has returned.

Life goes on after a trauma bond. Other people and situations will stress you out and trigger anxious feelings that you will subconsciously associate with the trauma bond. This is why stressful days and subsequent disappointments make you feel like you are missing the trauma bond more intensely.

Trauma is like a trance. It makes you less aware of your current state, your bodily sensations, and your feelings. When you start to feel more safe, grounded, and present, you will slowly become more aware of when these flashbacks occur. You will feel less entranced and more able to untangle your prior distress from what is currently happening in your life.

• Trauma repetition review.

After an animal goes into fight, flight, or freeze and releases all the energy its nervous system conjured to get out of a dangerous situation, the animal goes into a review state. The point of this is to figure out what happened and to learn from the experience. Trauma bonded humans also go into this state, except the review occurs in a highly aroused and anxious state, because the energy from the experience has not been released.

This is why it is so difficult to stop fixating on what occurred, why you are experiencing obsessive thoughts, replaying old scripts, and why you feel abandoned and rejected long after a traumatic break has occurred. You are processing the trauma bond while you are still in a stressed and hyperaroused state.

This is why talking about trauma, rehashing the situation with your friends, and recycling anger doesn’t make you feel better and only further retraumatizes you. It may feel like you lost something important because you can’t let go of compulsively thinking about the trauma bond. This repetitive rehashing is healthy and normal, but only when conducted when you are out of an anxiety state and feeling grounded, safe, and present.

The antidote to compulsive rehashing is to remember that trauma lives inside the body, as a physiological state. Once activated, it shuts down your ability to process information. There’s nothing wrong with trying to figure out what happened, but know that doing so in this triggered state may make you feel like you need to return to the trauma bond.

• Hypervigilance.

Hypervigilance is the inevitable result of all of this hyperarousal. In trying to make sense of how you are feeling, your body actively searches for the source of the threat, even when one cannot be found. This drive can feel like a fixation to scan for the source, even though what you may just be reacting to is your own internal arousal. This gets repetitive and compulsive.

Your body remembers the trauma bond. It remembers how it felt and who was around. Even out of the relationship, a trauma bonded person may still feel threatened by a memory of the past when dealing with a current stressor. Your brain scans for a source of the threat. Your brain lands on the emotionally charged memory and image of someone associated with the trauma bond. You may feel plagued by images of your ex-partner, but this is only because your body remembers this person as a source of threat, not because you need to run back to this person.

All of these symptoms occur because your nervous system is suspended in a hyper-aroused state, searching for new danger, and attempting to protect you.

The key to releasing the trauma bond is to remind yourself, carefully, with compassion, and with consistency that you are no longer in danger and that you are now safe.

– This, first and foremost, has to be true. If you are still in any way involved in a trauma bond, then you are not safe. It may feel like you’ve hacked it and you are over it and you are ready for contact or another round, but your physiological systems will likely tell you otherwise.

– When you start to feel triggered, remind yourself of where you are in time and space. You may be experiencing a physiological memory of the past that makes you feel as if you are re-experiencing the trauma. Trauma robs you of your ability to stay in the present. It drops you in a trance and prevents you from recognizing what you are feeling — both emotionally and physiologically. There are many ways of grounding, including yoga, breath work, meditation, journaling, spending time in nature, among so many others. Once you get committed to healing, you will seek and find endless sources of information and relief in these. The key is to begin. Yoga will not release your trauma bond. Going for a hike will not make flashbacks and obsessive thoughts go away. These things may, however, bring you more awareness to your sensations and feelings, which will help you stay in the present when you feel yourself becoming taken over in a trauma bonded trance.

– Become emotionally available to yourself. The way to release a trauma bond is to very slowly and compassionately separate the amount of fear, that you may not even know you feel, about your negative emotions from the negative emotions themselves. These negative emotions are stored inside of you because your body internalized them, instead of using the energy of these emotions to flee or fight. They are not yours. These emotions are not your anger or your shame. You are safe now. You no longer need them. But you need a really safe base in yourself, your enviornment, and others in order to slowly release these. Be kind to yourself. It’s not easy to let go.

– A symptom of being trauma bonded is an intense desire to inform the person who hurt you about your healing. Don’t do that. It will only entrench you further. Your stored negative energy is not your own, but it’s not your ex’s either. It may feel like you have to “place” it somewhere, but this will not get rid of it, and you will only re-traumatize yourself. You can’t put it somewhere else. You can replace it with the knowledge this energy is no longer necessary to protect you, because you are safe now.

Trauma-bonded people are usually the foremost experts on their exes. In order to survive, they can discern mood changes from small facial movements, sideways grunts, or the way a person is standing. Start becoming this aware of yourself.

Start noticing what triggers you, when you are feeling hyper-vigilant, when you are reviewing or processing the relationship in a stressed out state. Start noticing when your flashbacks occur. You may find that they are actually occurring in response to current life stressors.

In becoming aware of this, you may find that there are other toxic people and situations in your current life that you can let go of in order to feel more safe. When other toxic bonds fall away, you may feel more ready to be yourself. When you feel more ready to be yourself, you may become even less ashamed and more emotionally aware. You can start to recognize which thoughts and emotions aren’t yours.

When you separate these, you will feel even more safe. Becoming more self-aware is work with a huge payoff, and you’re already so good doing it with everyone but yourself.

When you separate the past from the present, you will start to have more fun in the present. You will solve the present problems better. You will start to feel more like yourself again. You are safe now, and soon…

You will be free.

This post was written by Natasha Adamo team member, Irena.

https://natashaadamo.com/trauma-bonding/

#trauma bond #stockholm syndrome #cptsd #childhood trauma #developmental trauma #inner child healing #reparenting #attachment trauma #self care #mental health #emotional health #abuse #narcissistic abuse #toxic people #dysfunctional family #shame programming #self compassion

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draw-back-your-bow · 3 years

Text

Bun In The Oven | O.Q

My Masterlist | Request Guidelines | Send a Request

Pairing: Oliver Queen x reader

Request: “Hiiiii I hv a request for a story but don't want my username to be used at the beginning of the chapter. It’s a Oliver Queen x reader. You tell him you’re pregnant in a cute surprise way and his reaction is the cutest thing ever like tears and a bear hug. Ur a great writer and no rush to get it done ✅ ” | Requested by Anonymous

A/N: I have no idea how to write a pregnant lady, so I hope this is at least kind of accurate. Thanks so much anon for the kind words, I am so insecure about my writing so it means a lot <3.

Summary: You’ve been feeling off for a few days, but you weren’t expecting to be expectating.

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of menstruation, implied sex (nothing explicit), a cursing

Word Count: ~2.7k

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Munching on some random chips you found in the closet, your eyes were fixated on one of the many monitors you and Felicity had in the Arrowcave.

You winced when Oliver pulled back his bow and shot through the shoulder of one of the criminal’s he and the team were fighting off. Felicity’s eyes went wide at the attack, and she diverted her attention to a different screen.

“Well, they seem to have that handled.” She remarked, shutting down the display, much to your displeasure.

“No, no, no,” you complained as she hit the power button, “We have to see what’s going on. What if something happens?”

Lifting an eyebrow at your uncharacteristic display of concern, Felicity attempted to comfort you, “I’m sure they will come out on top like they always do.”

Though you were not convinced, as you stared at the previously active monitor.

“It’s just a routine bank robbery. Sure, the criminals have crazy, high-power weapons-” she started, before stopping when seeing your frowning expression, “But... the team’s done it a million times before. Ya know, a weapon’s only as strong as its wielder… or however the saying goes.”

Frowning at her answer and refusal to turn the computer back on, you crossed your arms and grumbled, “Well then excuse me for worrying about my husband. Who also happens to be the Mayor by the way.”

Felicity snorted, spinning her chair to face you, “Are you sure that’s the only reason you're so concerned all of a sudden? You’ve been acting different these past couple weeks. Is there something I don’t know about?”

“Felicity, I’ve always been this anxious while Oliver’s in the field.” You replied, rolling your eyes at the accusation.

“You say that, but lately you've been unusually worried, insanely fatigued by the most simplest tasks, and,” she enunciated while snatching the large bag of chips from your grasp despite your objection, “Eating anything and everything you can get your hands on. Now I’m no doctor but-”

You crossed your arms and glared at her, cutting her off, “Exactly, you aren’t a doctor. Felicity, nothing is wrong with me. I’m perfectly fine!”

Before Felicity could further argue her case, the elevator doors opened, and you jumped up from where you were sitting to greet your husband. Cradling his head in your hands, you examined his face, “Oh my gosh, are you alright? Felicity turned off the feed before you finished and-”

He interrupted you with an endearing smile and carefully stopped your hands from continuing their inspection, “It’s okay, I’m fine, nothing else happened.”

Walking past where you were interrogating Oliver, Rene remarked, “We’re all good too, if you were wondering.”

You offered a shy smile to the rest of the team, “I’m also glad that you guys are safe.”

Laurel snorted, “Considering you’ve fretted about our well-being every time we’ve gone out for the past month now, trust me… we know.”

“Well I have a right to be worried.” You sassed, but everyone was already on their way to change out of their vigilante gear into more comfortable clothes.

Having stayed behind, Oliver pulled you off to the side and inquired, “Laurel brought up a good point, you have been acting… different, lately.”

Not wanting him to worry, you brushed him off, “Oliver, I’m completely fi-.”

“I know I’ve been busy lately.” He interjected. “Being Mayor, the Green Arrow, and taking care of William. It’s a lot to handle.”

You felt tears gather in your eyes, though usually you wouldn’t have such an emotional reaction to a conversation like this. You stopped him, “I know, I just don’t want you to worry about anything else… about me.”

He pulled you in for an embrace, something that was uncharacteristic for him, especially in his place of “work”. He continued, “I am able to handle it… because I have you. I could never have asked for a better partner, and none of this would have been possible without your help. Whatever is happening, we can get through it together, okay?”

He pulled back, looking into your misty eyes for confirmation.

Nodding, you swiped away the accumulating moisture, “Yeah. Thank you for that. I just, I don’t know. I guess it’s one of those days.”

“Months, you mean.” Oliver corrected, which made you smile at the rare instance of him cracking a joke.

Placing your hands onto his chest that was still clad in firm, emerald leather, you pressed a kiss against his lips, “I love you, so very much.”

Returning your affection, Oliver hummed against your mouth, “Not nearly as much as I love you.”

Fondly smiling up at him, you raised an eyebrow at his claim. Knowing it was extremely unlikely.

“Well then, we’ll just have to agree to disagree,” you joked, “But why don’t you change out of your night-time suit, and we head home. William specifically warned us not to stay out too late.”

Chuckling, Oliver made his way to the changing rooms, “I will definitely change quickly then, I’d hate to disappoint.”

Smiling to yourself after he left the room, you gathered your things, getting ready to leave. All worries about what may be ailing you left your mind, there were better things that could occupy your thoughts.

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The next day, you typed your symptoms into Google, deciding to search the web for what your issue might be. You knew the internet often suggested the worst case scenario when it came to self-diagnosed illness, but you figured that you’d give it a shot.

Scrolling past all the normal answers of you having cancer or a tumor, your eye was caught on one that would explain all of your recent illness. Pregnancy.

Grabbing your phone, you checked your menstrual cycle calendar. But it only confirmed your suspicions. You missed your period.

Trying to find any possible explanation other than what you were starting to believe, you thought of any reason why you wouldn’t be pregnant. But thinking back to the nights you and Oliver have spent together, the timing between them and the beginning of your symptoms lined up.

Groaning at your realization, you became aware that you had no idea what to do next. In high school, you’d never had a pregnancy scare with any of your boyfriends. So therefore, never even had a plan for what to do in this type of situation.

You shot up from your hunched down position on the couch when you remembered that you hadn’t even taken a pregnancy test yet. This was still entirely theoretical and if it turned out that you weren’t even pregnant, then you had definitely learned your lesson on playing doctor.

Picking up your phone, you pressed Felicity and Laurel’s contact numbers, ready to finally get some answers.

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Half an hour later, the ringing of the doorbell sounded throughout your apartment. Luckily, Oliver was at work and William was at school, so you didn’t have to explain your unplanned guests.

When you opened the door, you were greeted by your two best friends, holding a plastic bag from a pharmacy you assumed they stopped at along the way.

“Thanks so much for coming.” You greeted, ushering them inside.

Felicity exclaimed, “Well yeah! Of course we came, you can’t just say that you might be pregnant and expect us not to come.”

Laurel pulled out a box from inside the bag, revealing it to be a pregnancy test, “And we got this… assuming you haven't already taken one.”

Hesitantly reaching out to take the box from her hands, you shuddered, pulling back. “What if… I’m not, and just got worked up over nothing. I mean, I did look up my symptoms on Google, how accurate could that even be?”

“But what if you are? Then you’d have a person inside of you that you now have to care for. Wouldn't you want to know?” Felicity shot back.

“Plus,” Laurel added, shoving the box into your arms, “We’ve already gotten the test. Now all you have to do is take it.”

Backing up into the bathroom, you unboxed the item and followed the instructions on the package. Once you were finished, you called Felicity and Laurel into the small room. Leaning your head against the wall, you refused to even look at the test which was placed on the sink.

“Do you want to... see the results?” Felicity asked.

You furiously shook your head, “Nope, just tell me. I can handle it.”

Placing a hand on your shoulder, Laurel started, “Well congratulations...”

“Looks like you have a bun in the oven.” Felicity finished.

Your head snapped up to look at the two women. Mouth agape, you scurried to the test which was still laying on the sink.

Sure enough, you saw the two little red lines, confirming what you already suspected to be true.

“Oh. My. God.” You gasped, slapping a hand over your mouth, “I’m pregnant.”

“Yep.” Laurel commented.

Seeing your wobbling stance, Felicity led you back out to the couch, letting you sit down and process this new revelation.

Holding your head in your hands, you took a deep breath. “What am I gonna do?”

Laurel raised an eyebrow, questioning you, “Tell Oliver… you know, your husband.”

“What she means to say,” Felicity corrected, sending a glare in Laurel’s direction, “Is that now, you and Oliver can move forward together. As you’ve both always done. You’ll make it work.”

Mumbling through your hands, you admit, “We’ve never even discussed having kids. We have William, how’s he going to react to all this? Oliver is the freaking Green Arrow! Oh my god, our child’s going to have a target on their back-”

Before you could continue to spiral, Laurel cut you off, “Hey, listen to me. Your and Oliver’s kid is going to be the most protected baby on this planet. They will have an army of heros to protect them. And not to mention a badass aunt.”

Felicity threw in, “And a genius godmother.”

“That too.” Laurel continued, “The point is, this will be the luckiest kid ever, and nothing bad will happen to your baby.”

A small smile spread across your face at her encouragement, “Really?”

“Definitely.” Felicity assured.

Laurel reached across to grab something else from the bag, “Plus, we kind of already expected this outcome.”

Pulling out a green, infant bodysuit, you grinned when seeing the words ‘Little Hero’ on the front, accompanied by a picture of a bow and arrow.

When Laurel gave it to you, you couldn’t help but coo, “Aww, this is so adorable, where did you get it?”

Felicity beamed, “There was this really cute superhero themed store on the way here so we had to make a stop. There was also a Flash one but we decided to avoid any unwanted confusion.”

Giggling, you admired the onesie. Looking back at your friends, you put down the outfit to hug them.

“Thank you both so much, I have no idea what I would have done without you guys.” You confessed, getting misty eyed for the second time in twenty-four hours.

“Well, don’t start crying on us,” Laurel teased, “It’s contagious.”

Felicity sniffled a little, pulling back from the group hug, “Too late.”

Standing up from the couch and checking the time, Laurel announced, “Well, while we’d love to stay and celebrate, we’ll give you time to plan how to tell your husband, and we didn’t go through all this just to ruin the surprise.”

Chuckling again at her, you wiped the stray tears from your eyes, “Thank you both, once again.”

Making your way towards the door, Felicity reassured, “It’s what friends are for. But I was serious about the godmother thing. I really think you should consider.”

You laughed, nodding, “Definitely Felicity. And Laurel, you’re going to be a wonderful aunt.”

“Thank you, that means a lot.” Laurel smiled.

Nodding at her, you led them out the apartment, waving as they left.

From across the hall, Felicity yelled, “Call us after you tell him the news!”

“Will do!” You hollered.

Before you even made it back inside, Oliver was at your side, holding open the door.

Jumping back a bit at his unexpected presence, he placed his hands at your sides in an attempt to steady you. Holding a hand over your heart in surprise, you breathed, “Oh my god Oliver I almost had a heart attack. What are you doing home so early?”

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Oliver chucked, holding his hands up in surrender. He then gestured to the massive, brown stain on his white dress shirt, “Someone spilled coffee on me while I was out and I figured since I was close by, I could pay my beautiful wife a visit.”

A smile spread across your face at his words, and he swooped down to give you a peck on the lips. Leading him inside, you spoke, “Well then, thank you for paying me a visit. I was meaning to talk to you.”

Oliver went into your shared bedroom for a second, only to emerge shirtless, with a clean top in hand. While buttoning up the dress shirt, Oliver kept his eyes on yours while you made your way over to the box you kept the tiny onesie in.

“Is everything, okay?”

You nodded at him, “Yes… well, I think so at least.”

Walking back over towards him with the box hidden behind your back, you let him get situated before revealing it to him. When you gently placed it in his hands, he questioned, “Okay… what is this?”

Clearing your throat, you felt your eyes start to water in anticipation. You mentally crossed your fingers before instructing, “Um, I think it’d be better if you opened it and saw for yourself.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Oliver gave you a cautious glance before fixating back onto the small package in his hands. Gently lifting the lid of it, he set the container on the counter and held up the onesie.

Opening his mouth yet closing it repeatedly, tears began to form in his eyes as he desperately looked between you and the item of clothing for an answer.

“Oliver-” you started before he interrupted you, finally being able to gather the words.

“We’re having a kid?” He breathed, mouth agape as he now stared at you.

You slowly inched towards him to take one of his hands and place it on your stomach. You sighed while nodding, “I'm pregnant, Oliver.”

You could now prominently see the water in his eyes as in one swift movement, he placed the outfit onto the table then engulfed you in a hug, one arm around your waist, the other cradling your head.

In surprise, you stuttered out, “You… you’re happy?”

Pulling back to look you in the eyes, his eyes furrowed and asked, “Are you not? I never imagined that I would get the chance to start a family with someone I love and now… now we get to do that.”

The tears that you tried so desperately to hold in where now cascading down your face as you grinned, “Yeah, Oliver. We do get to have a family, and everything we’ve ever wanted.”

▣▣▣▣▣ Thanks For Reading! ▣▣▣▣▣

#bun in the oven #oliver queen #arrowverse #arrow #green arrow #myarrowverse #mywriting #imagine #x reader #fanfiction #reader insert

217 notes · View notes

quokkacore · 3 years

Text

lost and found [bang chan]

summary: looking for your soulmate is difficult to do when you’re also looking after your daughter. but on a chance shopping trip, when you lose her, you end up finding her, and your soulmate, whose soft smile and cute dimples offer a lot of promise.

pairing: musician!chan x singlemom!reader

genre: soulmates au, slice of life, meet-cute, holiday special-ish?, fluff, minor angst towards the beginning.

warnings: brief mentions of kidnapping, language, eating

song rec: exo - wait // chen - shall we?

word count: 2.1k

a/n: helena writing something that isnt angsty or smutty? apparently thats possible. december is gonna be pure winter fics says the girl who lives in a country where its SUMMER but go off and i’m posting a two part exo fic tht i’m rlly excited for on christmas eve and christmas day, so pls look forward to tht ^^

It only took a minute. It felt like even less. You turned your head to look for a sales employee, and let go of your 4 year old daughter’s hand to grab the hand she was holding onto to look through the shirts you were going through. Your eyes and hands were off of Annie for the briefest of moments, and when you reached out again, when you turned your head to look downward… gone. Like the wind.

That had been ten minutes ago. Now, you were wandering around the department store like you had gone crazy. To a certain degree, you had. Don’t panic if you lose sight of your kid, all the parenting articles had said. So naturally, you were doing exactly that. Once your mind got the gears turning, it was hard to get them to stop. Your inner pessimist was already whispering to you, what if she left the building? What if some creep snatched her up? What if she had gotten hurt?

Why couldn’t you have just stayed home on your day off? Why did you have to decide to haul yourself and your daughter along to the mall to do your holiday shopping today? You were immediately beginning to regret every decision you’d made in the past few hours, tears prickling in your eyes and a lump beginning to grow in your throat.

You wondered vaguely if she’d left the department store and was now wandering around the mall. That could be an entirely different possibility. You’d gone around the department store twice now, not seeing a single sight of her. Your grip tightened on her winter coat—which she had given to you when it got too warm for her from being inside—and started looking for a security guard instead. Maybe they could call out to the other security guards in the mall and keep a lookout.

Just as you spotted one, beginning to think of what you could say to give a physical description—her hair and eye color, which were both the same as your own, the red t-shirt she had on, the jeans, her height—a notification bell rang throughout the department store on the speaker system.

“To Annie’s mom, Y/N,” The woman on the PA system said, “Your daughter is at the help desk at the north entrance of the building.”

A swell of relief swept through you as she repeated the announcement one more time, and your feet, of their own volition, started towards the exit of the department store. What a fucking relief. You had entered toward that side of the building; meaning, yes, she’d left the store, but she hadn’t gone too far. Your heart was racing, sprinting towards the entrance. Your eyes darted back and forth, desperately waiting for the desk to come into sight as you rounded the corner.

When you turned, your eyes caught sight of your little girl, Annie, standing in front of the desk, teary-eyed, next to a young man in a black hoodie, watching her quietly. Your feet sped up, and when you were about fifteen feet away from the desk, your daughter turned her head to the sound of quick feet making a mad dash across the floor. Her eyes widened, and her little feet shot in your direction. “Mommy!”

She ran up to you, and you crouched to grab her in your arms, engulfing her in a hug that felt like it was more for your sake than for hers. You could feel a giant weight falling off of your shoulders as he sniffled against your shoulder. You found yourself having to blink tears out of your eyes. Pulling away a few seconds later, you wiped away a stray tear trickling down your little girl’s cheek.

“Honey, you can’t just walk away from me like that,” You murmured shakily, “I was so worried.”

“‘M sorry, mommy,” She sighed in a small voice, lower lip wobbling. Your heart clenched at how upset she was, and you put your hand on her cheek to calm her down. “Wanted t’go look at the toys. But I didn’t see you ‘nymore after.”

You sighed, pursing your lips. “I’m so glad you’re safe. How did you find your way to the desk?”

Annie turned her head, wide eyes fixing on the man in the oversized hoodie. Dark, frizzy curls paired with eyes of the same color, warm and welcoming, watching your interaction with his elbow propped up against the desk. “He helped me. Showed me where t’go.”

Your eyes met the man’s, and you stood slowly, holding onto Annie’s hand. You made your way over to him, flashing him a small friendly smile. “Annie says you helped her find her way here? I can’t thank you enough. I was this close to losing my mind.”

He let out a quiet laugh, nodding sympathetically. “I can imagine,” He replied, revealing a deep Australian accent, “I remember when I was a kid, my little sister got lost at the supermarket. My mum just ‘bout went nuts looking for her, and she was only missing for like five minutes. When I saw your daughter all alone, I got this horrible feeling, and I remembered my mum… I couldn’t just leave her there, y’know?”

You laughed. “Kids,” You sighed warmly, “You can’t take your eyes off of them, not even for a second. But honestly, thank you, uh, Mr…?”

He smiled, and as your other turbulent emotions began to subside, you realized he was insanely cute, taking note of his rosy, heart-shaped lips and his dimple. “Bang Chan. Uh, but just Chan is fine! Really.”

“Chan,” you repeated, your smile growing. You turned your head to look down at Annie. “And, what do we say to Chan for helping you, Annie? Sweetie...?”

But she didn’t seem to be listening to you. She was too busy gawking at your hand, which was holding onto her little one. You furrowed your brows, eyes falling to where she was looking, before your mouth fell open.

This was the last thing you were expecting, you thought, as your eyes fell upon the red string tied around your finger, eyes trailing forward, forward, until they made their way to Chan’s index finger, and then even further, meeting Chan’s eyes, which were wide as saucers. Evidently, he hadn’t been expecting this either.

“Mommy,” Annie said, confused, “That string just showed up out of nowhere. Like magic!”

It was your turn to not answer now, too in shock, blinking stupidly at Chan, who was doing the same. It felt like an out of body experience, unable to stop your mouth from gaping like a fish, while watching you and this ridiculously charming, handsome-for-absolutely-no-reason man come to the realization that the universe had tied you together, quite literally.

“I-I…” You choked out, unable to speak. Oh my god, you idiot, you thought, say something! Don’t just stare!

“Mommy.” Annie’s free hand was tugging on your long, brown winter coat now, which snapped you out of your idiotic gawking. You looked down at her, and her eyes were glittering with excitement. “The string! ‘S’the one you told me about last week! Th’one that shows up when you meet your… your… snow mate!”

That seemed to truly snap you out of it, for some reason, and you let out a sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh.

“Annie, I think you mean soulmate.”

“Yeah, that!” She started jumping up and down, and your face grew a crooked smile. You looked back at Chan, who was watching the interaction warmly. His eyes met yours when he realized you were looking at him, and he smiled at you in a way that made your heart do an anxious little tap dance, like he had known you for years and wanted to catch up.

In a way, it was true.

“So…” You said, “You said your name was Chan?”

He giggled a little at your breathless tone, and you grinned giddily. You felt like a teenager. It was honestly a bit embarrassing.

“You wanna get some lunch? My treat.” He sounded insistent, but his eyes were still creased up with his welcoming smile. “I insist.”

“What are the odds?” You asked with a smile, having finished your lunch—some pizza from the mall Chan had insisted on paying for—a few minutes ago, now watching Annie run around over on the indoor playground with some other kids there. Chan was sitting across from you at the table. “The last thing I was expecting was to find you, y’know?”

“I think there was a higher priority on your list of things you needed to find at the moment.”

“Ha, ha,” You deadpanned, “You’re hilarious. Tell another one.”

“Alright, what do you call a—”

“No!” You said with a giggle. “I heard enough earlier when you told me the one about the yakuza and the jacuzzi.”

Chan laughed gleefully, resting his chin on his hand. The string had since disappeared—they disappeared some ten minutes after meeting your soulmate. “But really, it is pretty crazy. I read a few weeks ago that only 3 out of every 10 people actually manage to find their soulmates.”

He didn’t respond but his eyes studied your face, gaze fixated on the bridge of your nose. “Call me biased,” He murmured, “But you’re very beautiful.”

You looked down, feeling your face heat up. “Thank you. You’re pretty handsome yourself.”

“Ah, thank you.” It was Chan’s turn to smile bashfully, the tips of his ears turning red. He looked down at his hands, which were on the table. A brief silence settled over the both of you, and you pondered over how he had been during lunch, gentle in his questioning but also incredibly sweet whenever Annie said something or asked a question, and how he always looked genuinely interested in what she had to say.

As a single mom, you never really had time to date. But both times that you given it a try, they didn’t seem to care about Annie or what she had to say. But here, now, Chan had been so happy to explain how he made music when she asked, or let her have the last slice of pizza, and it didn’t come across as disingenuous. It didn’t have the slightly condescending lilt some people put on to talk to younger children. He didn’t speak slowly and loudly, but he was aware that he needed to simplify his language given that she was still a little kid. He took things at her pace, and you could see that Annie warmed up to him instantly.

Still, you were a little wary.

“Look,” You said softly, eyes turning to the playground, looking for Annie. When you found her, chasing a little boy around, you smiled softly. “I’m really excited to have found you, Chan. It’s something I’ve always wanted but never expected. But… y’know, I’m a mom, above everything else. Ever since she was born, Annie’s been, and always will be my number one priority. I need you to understand that.”

You met his eyes again, and they had turned more serious, attentive to your words. “I totally understand that, Y/N. I wouldn’t want to come between you and her, and I don’t expect you to drop everything for me. Especially if it involves Annie.”

“Thank you,” You answered softly, nodding. “It’s hard for her. Her dad and I broke up a few months after she was born, and she sees him maybe once or twice a year. She’s in such an important age for her development, and needs me just as much as I need her, y’know?”

He nodded again, humming in accordance. “Of course. I’m totally willing to wait if you’re not ready yet, or if you want to set certain boundaries for her wellbeing... Whatever you feel is best for her.”

Slowly, his hand made its way to rest on top of yours. He was almost cautious about it, brushing his fingers gently against your knuckles. “You really made my day.” His voice was warm, eyes full of mirth. You smiled. “You made mine too. Because I found my soulmate and you stopped me from having a heart attack by saving the day and finding Annie. I’m never gonna thank you enough for that.”

He laughed. “I’m glad I was able to help. It led me to you.”

Lowering your head as your heart skipped a beat, you looked at his hand on yours, then at Annie, and finally back at him. A rosebud of hope began to bloom in your chest.

Seeing his dimples as his eyes shone, you had a solid feeling it wouldn’t ever wilt.

taglist: @decembermoonskz

#rebootkpopnet #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #kpop fluff #kpop au #kpop scenarios #skz scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #kpop angst #skz angst #stray kids angst #my writing

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mandoalorian · 3 years

Note

Hey i heard that you are in our blonde man mood, so what about Maxwell and reader having a car accident. Angst hurts but you wrote that amazing.

Those Three Words [Maxwell Lord x Reader]

Author's note: This was tough. I knew it was going to be tough the moment I received the request but oof— I don’t know if it hit differently because Maxwell is my comfort character or… I just. Thank you for the prompt though, and the lovely compliment. Hope you enjoy.

Warnings: car crash, injury, blood mention, hospitals, coma mention, mention of stalking, angst.

Word count: 2.2k

Rating: 13+

MASTERLIST

READ PART TWO HERE

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal (let me know if you want to be added!)

You knew it would never be easy. Dating Maxwell Lord was never going to be a walk in the park. He had his moments, dazzling you with his smile and making your heart melt just from the simplest of touches. You forever cherished the moments on a morning where he'd hold you tight in his arms, your body pressed against his chest. He'd plant lazy kisses along your jaw and whisper sweet nothings into your ear. The strain on the relationship came from his fame. He had warned you before you had both decided to become official. He'd warn you that the paparazzi would go wild once they found out you two were dating. He knew he had obsessive fans who would try doing anything in their means to split you both up. It was hard, but you and Maxwell were more than confident that your love for one another would transcend any difficulty.

That morning was your worst fight yet. "We are going to be late for the meeting," Maxwell growled. "Will you just get your shit together and get in the fucking car?" You had never seen him so angry before. You'd seen him shout at his employees, treat them like dirt, but this was different. His voice was low and gruff and dripped with hostility. It scared you, just a bit. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand and took a deep breath.

"Don't talk to me like that," you snarled back and his head snapped in your direction when he heard your tone of voice. "You need to do something Max. This is getting too much." you were practically begging.

"I can't- I- what can I do? Tell me, what can I do?" he asked, throwing his arms up in the air, completely exasperated. It was only the morning but his dark blonde locks were already falling out of place and he had loosened his tie. The work day hadn't even begun.

"I don't know!" you cried. "But you have to do something." you gulped. "You have to. Max please-" you sobbed, falling into his chest. You wanted him to hold you, and shush you, and promise you that he would handle it. That everything would be okay.

He rarely said I love you. You didn't mind so much, because he had his own way of showing it. They were just words and— actions spoke louder than words. But just this once you wished he would say it. You wished he would say those three damned words. He felt your tears dampen his shirt and he gently pushed you off him. He took the magazine out of your hand and sighed before throwing it in the trash.

He wanted to burn the magazine. The dumb tabloid journalists who had taken photos of you when you hadn't even realised. Stalked you. It disgusted him, it angered him.

You shakily folded your arms over your chest and looked at him with glazed eyes. He looked pained too, you could just about tell. The slight uncomfort in his posture. Although Maxwell Lord rarely spoke about his feelings and he did a hell of a good job at hiding them. You had known him long enough to just about identify when he wasn't doing okay. You swallowed the hard, anxious lump in your throat.

"Come on." he said quietly, but he didn't even move, and neither did you.

"Max," you whispered sadly, feeling another tear fall down your cheek.

"Don't," he croaked, pursing his lips together. He turned around and opened the front door, waiting for you to walk out of the house and get into the car that was waiting for you so he could lock up. "Jeeves is waiting. Go."

You sniffed, taking a deep breath and quickly checking your reflection on the way out you did your best to fix your appearance. No doubt the paparazzi would be trying to snap photos of you and your boyfriend. You and Maxwell both slid into the back of the car. Neither of you spoke a word during the first half of the journey.

"You're acting like this is my fault." Maxwell said stiffly, not even bothering to turn to you.

"Is it not?" you asked but regretted the words as soon as they departed your lips. It was unfair to blame him. He had warned you. He had.

Maxwell looked down with guilt and shame bubbling within him. "If you're not happy-"

"Stop it." you snapped.

"Because you don't seem happy." Maxwell continued.

"Stop!" you cried out, startling even the driver.

"Max, you can afford security. Or lawyers. You can afford to sue the papers or even pay paparazzi off. Fuck, I don't know how this shit works. I don't know but those people are crazy. They terrify me." you admitted. "I'm begging Max."

"I should have this business deal closed by the end of the week. Then I can-"

"Oh my God, fuck the business deal! Max, this is our relationship, this-" you stopped, your eyes fixating on the rear view mirror. "Jeeves… how long has that car been behind us?" you asked hesitantly, your fingers curling into an anxious fist.

"I'm not sure ma'am, would you like me to take a diversion?" Jeeves, the driver, questioned politely.

"No," Maxwell replied before you even had time to open your mouth. You scowled. "I'm already late for work. Don't need to be any later."

"Max," your voice was timid. Shy. Afraid. "I really think that car has been following us."

"You're paranoid." Maxwell rolled his eyes.

"No, Max I-"

"You're paranoid because of everything that's happened this morning. Because of the magazine-"

It was when Jeeves turned at the next junction, the car behind you crashed into yours. You heard the windows shatter and Maxwell scream your name, but then. Blackness. Darkness. Nothing.

***

Fuck, Maxwell knew he had fucked up. You didn't even want to leave the house this morning— he knew that. He knew you'd rather just lay with him, in bed, subdued in the morning sunlight. He knew it and yet he still selfishly chose to ignore it. He had to go to work; he had to close the business deal. Once again he had made the mistake of prioritising his damn job over you. Over your wishes. Over your relationship.

You grazed his thumb over the cut in his eyebrow as his feet tapped impatiently. The hard blue chair he was sat in grew more uncomfortable by the minute as he waited for the doctors to finish your check up. Jeeves was okay, the airbag hidden in the steering wheel saved his life. He'd gone home for the rest of the day. Maxwell suffered a few cuts and bruises from the broken glass and his face slamming into the seat in front him. He thought he had broken his nose but the x-rays showed that he was fine. A few stitches and he'd be healed within weeks.

But you…

Maxwell groaned, rubbing his head and slowly opening his eyes. His own seat belt had snapped and he cursed at the way his head was pounding. He could already hear sirens. He wasn't sure how long he'd been unconscious for, but it mustn't have been too long. He shuffled upright into his seat, peaking over only to find that Jeeves was gone. He wasn't in the car. Then, he turned to face you.

You were curled up in your seat, your eyes shut. For a split second, Maxwell felt nothing. He looked at you and admired your beauty. Your softness and your angel-like features. You were as still as ever. Your hair was tangled in your seatbelt, your cheek pressed against the leather of the seat. Maxwell leaned over and cupped the side of your face, gently tilting it to one side. It wasn't until his action revealed a pool of blood dripping from a deep cut in your neck, he began to panic.

Panic was an understatement. His heart dropped. It broke within an instant. He looked closer, examining the cut and trying to make out how serious it was but there was too much blood. He couldn't see anything. He couldn't do anything. He was helpless. The sirens began to get louder but it was like everything was happening in slow motion.

"Baby," he whimpered, tapping you lightly. "Baby." he repeated, this time his voice louder and more stern. He dropped his hands to your shoulders, picking up your lifeless body and cradling you in his arms. Your arm flopped across his legs and your eyes remained closed, despite his pressure to awaken you. "Hey," he whimpered, tears spilling from his eyes. "Hey stay with me. Stay with me."

He cried your name. He sobbed hysterically. He placed his hand under your shirt and over your chest, desperate to feel your heartbeat. Your skin was still warm and a flood of relief washed over him, but you still weren't responding. Maxwell pressed his lips against your forehead, his salty tears dripping onto your face. "Please." he croaked. "Don't leave me. You can't. You can't-"

The doctor interrupted Maxwell from his thoughts. "Mr Lord," he said. Maxwell felt sick. He was preparing himself for the worst. What if this was it. What if you were gone. He'd lost the love of his life, just like that. It would be all his fault. He could never forgive himself. "She's stable, but unconscious. We think she might be in a coma which is concerning but we've booked her in for an MRI scan this afternoon. We'll have to take it from there."

"Can I go see her?" Maxwell asked. The doctor barely had to nod before Maxwell bolted past him and into your room.

You were laying in bed, tied to an abundance of machines by wires and tubes. Maxwell's heart sank. He slowly approached you, and sat on the edge of your bed. Hesitantly, he held your hand. He wasn't sure if he deserved to even touch you. He couldn't help but blame himself. If he had just listened to you...

He hissed when he felt how cold you were. Your hands were like blocks of ice. He gently smoothed your hair out of your face and cupped his hands on your cheeks, desperate to bring you some kind of warmth.

The worst part about it, he had been fighting with you all morning. He didn't even get the chance to tell you how much he loved you. He loved you so much.

"Darling," he sobbed, shuffling out of his suit jacket and wrapping it over your body. "I don't know if you can hear me. I heard- I heard on the television that sometimes, a person in a coma can hear you if you talk clear enough, I- I hope you can hear me." he choked out.

He prayed for you to make some kind of movement. Show him some kind of sign. But nothing.

"Listen darling, you're strong. Strongest person I know. I need you to wake up for me because I love you so much and I need to prove to you that I can fix this. I can handle it. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry I let this happen." Maxwell conceded, trying to compose himself. "I can't live without you. I need you. I love you."

It was the three words you had longed to hear this morning. Those three words.

I love you.

You stirred, only slightly, but it was enough for Maxwell to notice. "Nurse!" he screamed. "I need a nurse!" your eyes were still closed but he felt you give him a small, reassuring squeeze of his hand. It was weak, it was tired, but it was you. Tears began to spill from Maxwell's eyes. "Yes, yes baby," he cried. "I know you're there. I know you can feel me. Listen, I love you okay? I love you. You're going to get through this." he encouraged, pressing a kiss into your lips.

It was a doctor who pulled Maxwell away from you. Nurses scrambled around you, checking your vitals and the machines as Maxwell stood there and watched. "Be gentle with her." he whimpered, but earned no response.

He couldn't lose you. He wouldn't lose you. He loved you.

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader

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funkymbtifiction · 2 years

Text

2 or 6??

Can you please help me with my enneagram? I am sure my mbti is INFJ. I am intensely symbol-focused and have a specific vision for my future, everything my mind deals with is very abstract. Also, I am very emotional and aware of other people's emotions. Yet, my enneagram is unclear. I could be a 2 or a 6 (my instincts are so/sx). I am the type of person who puts "under the rug" all my problems, and the one who always says that everything will turn out fine. If someone needs help I will always offer my hand, sometimes to the point of exhaustion. Almost all my money goes to gifts for others. I have always been crafting an image of perfection, just adopting traits, sometimes traits very different from my true self, just so others can love me and admire me. As a child, I would write in great detail how I need to behave to be perfect. I had this set of notebooks which held the title "Medium-large summary of kindness and success" it was a series of at least ten notebooks, I was obsessed with my image. And don't let me get started on being a romantic person. I take in romantic scenarios from movies and books like crazy. I am always trying to make myself look and act attractive. I can be very narcissistic, dramatic (always exaggerating expressions of emotions and reacting strongly to minor events). I need attention from others. Being loved is so important to me.

That's a solid argument for 2w1.

Yet, I am in my core a very negative person. [...] My whole life I have been paranoid about my relationships. I was never able to just sit for a coffee with someone and enjoy it, I have to analyze everything they say. I feel like I am looking for evidence a person doesn't like me, always suspicious. It takes so little to make me start panicking.

That is still more 2 than 6, because the anxiety is centered around relationships and rejection. I once heard that a 2 giving a speech will notice the ONLY PERSON in the audience who doesn't appear to like them and fixate on them, rather than seeing the other 800 people who like them. And being a social dominant, of course you would be terribly anxious about being liked, being rejected, etc.

What I said in the first part about me being dramatic and emotional absolutely stands but I am also very pragmatic, no-nonsense, and rigid. I can be so contradicting in these matters.

Normal for a rigid 1 wing, infringing on the 2's emotional side.

Whenever someone compliments me I am very proud but I will rarely boast about it. Recently someone told me that I paint beautifully. I thanked them feeling good about it but I immediately said how it's not that good because of reasons. Like I am trying to show humility so that I would not get attacked someday and be seen as arrogant. I spend so much time questioning and re-evaluating my decisions despite being a Ni-dom. I can be very cynical and I usually have to think very hard before making a decision, "I have to think about it" is one of my most said sentences, it's my reply to everything.

2s and 6s both put themselves down, but the 2 genuinely knows what they did was worthwhile and is saying it isn't to be humble, and the 6 honestly feels they weren't that impressive. Thinking hard before making a decision is... introversion, and possibly Ni (how is this going to play out in the future? is it going to take me closer to the end result I want or distract me from it? That takes time).

What you see as 6 might be general anxiety, to be honest. 2s are very anxious deep down, they just don't like people to see it because it doesn't fit the image they want to present of themselves. Being anxious about making a fool of yourself is human nature, not necessarily evidence for 6. Feeling overwhelmed by lots of attention and the decisions that come from that could just be introversion as well. BTW, this:

"When I meet someone new I first have to analyze them and see if they fit into a mold of a person I want in my life and to see what are their intentions. My 2 friends are not like that, even the introverted ones are so open to meeting new people."

... is being a Ni-dom. I am guessing your friends aren't? ;)

My guess is you're a 2w1. You give more convincing evidence for it.

#question #enneagram #enneagram 2

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starlightinhumanform · 3 years

Text

wanted to do some worldbuilding for my Friday Night Lights AU. so far, the story has really only focused on Virgil and Roman but the rest of the sides are so special to me in this AU and I wanted to share them!!

Monarch Knights: Roman, Remus, Patton

All 3 have been best friends since childhood (Roman/Remus [twins] probably Patton’s neighbors)

Partners in crime (except a trio)

Remus= has crazy ideas; Roman: carries out daring schemes; Patton: gets them out of trouble

Patton who is the neighborhood’s sweetheart, who has the sweetest smile and big baby blue eyes and who has perfected the art of saying “No ma’am we would never dig a tunnel through your flowerbed” and fooling everyone

Present Patton: A good student, mostly A’s and B’s. Still an absolute sweetheart, still getting the twins out of trouble. Has more volunteer hours logged than any other student at Monarch High.

Very few see the alternative side to Patton: who blames his parents’ divorce on himself, who works 30 hours week plus school plus volunteering and who prays every night that he can get a scholarship to go to college

Present Roman: A good kid with a good heart who wants to make a difference in the world. He’s got a great imagination and a love for all things animated. Only problem is his grades, classes— especially math— just don’t click for Roman. It’s not that he’s not smart, he’s just not made for school. He loves football but he doesn’t want to spend his whole life doing it. He knows he wants to go to college, but he has no idea what he wants to do with his life. Even college isn’t a given, that is, if he can’t get his grades up.

Present Remus: An absolutely brilliant kid, could easily get straight A’s if he wanted to. Except he doesn’t want to, he hates school and he hates the whole system. He hates the unnecessary stress it puts on his best friends and he hates how unfair it is and he hates how it’s basically just a tool to train kids to get ground up by the cycle of capitalism. Nevertheless, he often tutors Roman and helps him with his homework because he knows how much it means to his brother. He really shines through art, especially in realistic gore sketches and graffiti. He likes to combine the two to spread his messages in a way that people can’t ignore.

Westshore High: Virgil, Janus, Logan, Remy (kinda)

Virgil, Janus, and Logan have been friends since middle school. All three of them were weird little outcasts and they just sort of found each other.

Middle school Janus: Stereotypical “baby gay.” At that point they didn’t know they were nonbinary and thought they were just a really feminine gay boy. Although they cringe looking back on that period of their life, it was really influential in helping them eventually find their true identity. They were outgoing, boisterous, and— despite being incredibly smart— was just a bit too noisy and distracted to ever get good grades.

Middle school Logan: Much like his older self except still deeply entrenched in his Pokémon fixation. He was usually very quite but once you got him started on one of his interests, he could almost rival Janus’ talking speed. Janus befriended him because they were both little outcasts. Logan liked Janus because their “conversations” mostly consisted of Logan sitting comfortably quiet while Janus chattered and Janus didn’t mind when Logan would start his rants.

Middle school Virgil: Textbook 13 year old emo who hasn’t quite figured out how to dress themselves yet. He repeatedly got in trouble for writing MCR lyrics on school property in sharpie. He didn’t mind being ostracized by most of his peers because he thought it made him seem more edgy. Unfortunately for him, Janus adopted him, thus creating their little trio.

Present Logan: Sharp as a knife. As smart as they come— school wise— but blunt and honest to a fault. He has a hard time connecting to people because he’s autistic; he has a hard time understanding what he’s “supposed” to do in social situations and many people think he’s rude. He is fiercely loyal to his best friends, Janus and Virgil, and always wants the best for them.

Present Janus: Their inability to focus in classrooms has created a deep rooted resentment to school in general. In the past few years, they have simply stopped trying to do well— something that often results in shouting matches between them and Logan. Logan thinks they should do more with their life, or at least have some sort of plan; Janus is just tired. Their parents are well off but rarely home— and know almost nothing about their only child. Janus feels most at home over at Logan’s, where they and Virgil are always welcome.

Present Virgil: Still fairly emo, except he’s gained a little bit more of a sense of style. He’s a smart kid, getting C’s and B’s without really trying. If he tried, he could probably get A’s but he doesn’t really see the point of it. As long as his grades are good enough to stay on the football team, they’re good enough for him. Football— and his small but close group of friends— are the only things at school he really cares about. Virgil doesn’t know what his future holds as giving it too much thought sends him into an anxious spiral. For now, he’s happy for things to stay just the way they are.

General Sanders Sides Taglist: ~ @centimeter-tries-to-communicate @bee-syndrome @fandomfan315 @cas-is-a-hunter @reggieleigh07 @mossdeemo @im-actually-ok @softnic @catolicabuena @queer-disaster106 @lunawolf89 ~

Friday Night Lights Taglist: @lcrnbw @amazing-creepyfloof @badluckkaren @athenashipsthings @chronophobica @icequeenoriginal @delicateherolightscissors @yourneighbourhooddisaster @sonny-ray-of-goth @captain-oats @thiswitchisgay-goodforher @elivampireboy

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imasimpforshanks · 3 years

Text

Love Languages - Straw Hats

Luffy:

• What he needs/responds best to:

I think Luffy would really need to receive gifts. The types of gifts that carry a lot of meaning and are sentimental. We've seen how he treats the Srraw Hat he was gifted by Shanks - he keeps it on him at all times, does everything in his power to make sure it doesn't go missing. Yes, the hat is part of a promise they made, but that's the whole point. That gift from Shanks inspired luffy and continues to inspire luffy. Another example is the water he receives from Toto in Alabasta. It's an important gift, something the old man worked hard to get, so to Luffy he knows and understands the effort and meaning behind it and for that he treats it carefully. That is why I believe Luffy would adore sentimental gifts like that from his significant other. It shows the thought, the energy, and the care you have for him. It's a great way to show him your love. Also, if he were to receive meat as a gift.... well lmao we already know how that would go down.

• What he gives:

There's not really any need to explain this, but Lufy gives acts of service. Luffy is for the most part, pretty selfless. He constantly helps people he just met, for absolutely nothing in return. Sometimes they don't even say anything, he just already acts. This would be how he expresses his love for you. He'd randomly share his food with you (this would be a big one), he'd ask what you want or need done and as soon as you tell him he'd go off and do it. That's just how he is.

Zoro:

• What he needs/responds best to:

Zoro is very focused on his goals. He has his daily routine - sleep, train, eat, train, drink, train, repeat. Training is such a significant part of Zoros life, it's almost nonnegotiable. We've seen him train immediately after incurring an injury, without rest or recovery. Therefore, quality time would be very important for Zoro. In particular, I think Zoro would feel most love and cared for with a partner who understands his desire and need to constantly train, and rather than telling him to stop and spend time together, they join him in his training sessions. For Zoro that is quality time. The same can be said with the other points in his routine. A significant other who spends quality time with him through drinking, eating, sleeping and training would make him feel so understood and�� loved. I feel like acts of service kind of go hand-in-hand with quality time for Zoro. You know Zoros routine, what he does, and so doing little things throughout the day to make it easier for him to stick to that routine and maximize his energy for training, I believe, is a good way to make the swordsman feel loved. Preparing his favourite drink (if you are on the ship, or buying his favourite drink the next time you are on land), offering him a sparring buddy. Those sorts of acts of service will really make him feel appreciated.

• What he gives:

Zoro is more of a doer rather than a talker, and while he may be an idiot (especially with directions), hes not stupid. He has a good sense of the needs and states of his crew members. Because of this, Zoros love language is most definitely acts of service, he would view the situation, gauge your current state and act accordingly without being told what you needed. He'd just know.

Sanji:

• What he needs/responds best to:

To be fair Sanji would probably respond well to any of the types of love languages LMAO, but, I personally think he'd respond best to physical touch and quality time. Sanji is a SIIIIIMP (I love the man, bless his horny little heart). Anytime a woman is even in the vicinity he gets a nosebleed and gets all love-crazy. Imagine what hes like when a girl actually touches him. Actually... we see what hes like in Dressrosa with Violet. He blushes, swoons and everything in between when she holds his hand or touches him. So making physical affection towards Sanji is definitely the best way to show him you love him. Also, I believe quality time would be a big one for Sanji. Going with him to get the groceries for the ship, spending time with while he cooks. Showing interest in his passion would without a doubt make Sanji feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He loves cooking for others, so to have his partner reciprocate that interest and share that passion with him would mean the world to the chef.

• What he gives

Like Luffy, the love languages Sanji gives are pretty self explanatory. Sanji would show his love through acts of service and words of affirmation. We already see him do this to an extent throughout the series for Nami and Robin. Sanji will make your favourite meal, your favourite drink, anything you want. He is extremely chivalrous amd takes pride in treating women correctly, so you best believe he will do everything for you so you dont have to lift a finger. He would also compliment you daily, encourage you and listen to whatever you have to say. We've seen him do this numerous times. He loves to let women know how beautiful, strong, and amazing they are.

Usopp:

• What he needs/responds best to:

This guys is so anxious and insecure. He constantly fixates on how he's weak and unworthy to be a member of the Straw Hats. It's likely that these thoughts and feelings would manifest in a relationship with him too. Therefore, Usopp is a person in desperate need of words of affirmation. He would absolutely thrive if you were to encourage, reassure and compliment him. Remind him that he is in fact a brave warrior of the sea, one you admire very much. I also just can't stop thinking that Usopp would respond really well to quality time with his partner. If his partner would just sit and listen intently to his stories (some true, some exaggerated and some entirely false) regardless if they've heard them before or not. It would make him feel so appreciated.

• What he gives:

There's not a doubt in my mind that Sogeking would show his love through words of affirmation and quality time. He knows how it feels to be anxious and insecure. To ensure you dint ever feel that way he would be constantly complimenting you, speaking words of encouragement and listening to whatever doubts you had and then instantly reminding you that you are in fact bad af and should never doubt yourself. Again, Usopp would spent so much quality time with you telling you an assortment of stories to make you smile, cry, and laugh.

Nami:

• What she needs/responds best to:

Is it a surprise that the beautiful navigator would respond best to receiving gifts? No, not at all. She's known for her love of treasure and money, AND, she epreally enjoys shopping any chance she gets. So, it's safe to say any sort of gift is a great way to make Nami feel loved. But, she wouldn't just appreciate big expensive, or really materialistic gifts, she would also respond really well to small, sentimental gifts too. She was gifted a bracelet from her sister (we see the flashback scene in Strong World). Its a really important and precious gift to her, that she wears at all times. So, receiving a gift of any kind would mean the world to Nami.

• What she gives:

Giving gifts would be Namis main love language. She's in charge of all the finances and treasure in the Straw Hats, so we see how cautious she can be with money. Therefore, if Nami were to use that treasure for a gift for her significant other, it's a really big sign, it's a giant communication of love! There is no way in hell she'd do that for just anyone. This is actually shown in the Sabaody Archipelago arc when Camie is being auctioned off and Nami says that they can use all their treasure and money to try and get her back. If Nami truly cares for someone, she'll show it through gift giving.

Chopper:

• What he needs/responds best to:

Again, Choppers is relatively self explanatory. This boy thrives when he receives compliments of any kind. So, words of affirmation are undoubtedly the love language he responds best to. There's really not much else to say about it.

• What he gives

Chopper really enjoys spending time with the crew, he's been shown to enjoy playing games with Robin, fishing off the Sunny, and goofing off with Luffy and Usoop. So, quality time is the primary way Chopper shows his love. He enjoys spending time doing anything with those he cares about, so his significant other would be no different.

Robin:

• What she needs/responds best to:

Robin has had a rough life, she may not have always been alone, but she really was alone for most of her life. She couldn't trust anyone, could 't get close to anyone, but now that she's found that person, spending quality time with them is going to be very important for her. She would really need her significant other to just be near her, even if it's in silence while she's studying, or allowing her to talk about her research. As long as the person she loves spends some quality time with her, Robin will be happy.

• What she gives

She's the intellectual of the crew. She can read people and is really good with her words. That's why I think words of affirmation are what she'll give to her partner. We've seen her calm down, reassure, and encourage some if the anxious bunch on the crew, so there's no doubt that she always knows the right thing to say.

Franky

• What he needs/responds best to:

I believe words of affirmation to be the love language Franky responds the best to. Being told how cool, strong, creative, and super he is would do wonders. You can actually see this in the way he responds to Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper's reactions to all his creations. When they go on and on spouting compliments, with every "oooh" and "ahhh" Franky gets motivated, more lively, it makes him feel great. So it stand to reason that words of affirmation is the best love language for Franky.

• What he gives

Franky is very hands on. He is a shipwright afterall. This cyborg undoubtedly shows love through acts of service. He'll make and do anything you need him to, sometimes even anticipating your future needs and having things prepared in advance. I also be,ieve receiving gifts goes hand-in-hand with Franky. He'd use his creative mind and skills to make you some outrageously super gift that you can use in battle alongside him.

Brook

• What he needs/responds best to

This poor guy spent most of his life alone, having lost all of his crew. So, Brook would require both quality time and physical touch. Physical touch would be a great reassurance, little touches here and there - physical affection - is a reminder to him that he is no longer alone. The same can be said about quality time. Doing anything in the presence of his partner is soothing to him, it removes any lingering reminders of loneliness.

• What he gives

Brook hands down shows love through acts of service. This man would learn all of your favourite songs and play them for you when he senses you're feeling a little off. That's just what he does. He's been shown to do that with the crew already, if it's too quiet, a lot of tension, or he feels the situation calls for it, he cracks a joke or plays some music for the crew. He would do the exact same for you.

Jinbei

• What he needs/responds best to:

Not gonna lie, i dont know if I have he greatest grasp on Jinbei as a character yet, so I'm not 100% sure what love language he would respond best to. However, I am leaning more towards acts of service. I just feel as though there's no better way to make Jinbei feel loved other than going out of your way to alleviate the stress in his life, even if that means talking sense into the straw hats so he doesn't have to (LMAOOOOO).

• What he gives

Like Robin, I believe Jinbei to be really good with his words making words of affirmation to be a love language he uses. He's been seen a few times trying to talk sense into Luffy, and because of this, I feel as though he'd be really good at encouraging, complimenting, and empathizing with his partner. Also, Jinbei is good at analyzing a situation, seeing what needs to be done and then doing it. It happened many times in Marineford (and I think in whole cake island). Acts of service is likely to be another love language he would use for his significant other.

#one piece #straw hats #straw hat pirates #mugiwara no luffy #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #cat burglar nami #god usopp #tony tony chopper #nico robin #cyborg franky #soul king brook #jinbei #love languages #one piece headcanons

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