Disorganized (aka Fearful-avoidant) Attachment Style Is Overanalyzing/overcorrecting When You Think Your

"Areseta and Serenata- Goddess of War and Honor standing beside her wife, the Goddess of Peace. A reminder that we wage war for the hope of a longer peace; that we inflict violence so that we might have more peace. two sides of the same coin, that coin is something that is required to even think about joining the Warriors Guild."

Read this somewhere, forgot where, but I'm sure the internet knows and will be willing to tell

Hey, so today's post is kind of personal, more than a little personal actually but I guess you could say I wasn't feeling the best earlier. And with these feelings I was trying to find anything to distract myself with and I ended up going through some older notes in my phone. And, well I got to reading this one. I guess you could say it's kind of stupid but I almost felt like I could relate? (again to myself so, stupid) and I thought maybe others could too.

I guess I was just feeling a lot of emotions, some similar but also none quite the same. I guess you could say it I felt... Unvalidated? Not valued, not seen, not heard; amongst other things. I won't go into detail what happened today but I guess here's a little, almost diary entry? Of a bad day from a while back.

-------------------------------------------------------

Thurs. Oct 24, 2024:

I wasn't having the best day yesterday, I couldn't tell you why, there wasn't just one specific thing, I think it was just... Everything. I'm just, tired. Tired of not knowing, tired of not being enough. Just, tired. I need a break. Just a moment to catch my breath. So yeah, I wasn't having the best day yesterday.

I had to actively stop myself from crying my eyes out in the middle of a classroom or hallway a couple of times. For some reason, I so desperately wanted nothing more than a hug from my dad. But it made me want to cry even more because I knew I couldn't have one, it was in the middle of the school day and he was at work. I had to force myself to think of something, anything other than how much I so desperately wanted a hug at that moment. Otherwise, I'd start bawling my eyes out in front of dozens of people.

I thought about asking Mrs. T for a hug. She was right there. No more than a couple of steps away. But for some reason I couldn't get myself to do it. Even though I was trying my damn hardest not to have a mental breakdown a foot behind her. Instead I just silently got up once the bell rang and stood behind her for a moment, debating. But after a moment I just grabbed my bag and silently walked away, I didn't say anything, she didn't say anything either. (She hadn't notice)

The second time I think I had to actively avoid breaking out in tears was on the way to my third-period from Mrs. T office hours, I had to force myself to stop thinking about the hug I couldn't have otherwise I'd start crying in front of my pre-calculus class. Eventually, the teacher came along to unlock the door and I splashed my face with some water from the water fountain.

It was a little better after that. I could distract myself with math, I didn't have to think, well at least think about anything other than math. And I thought to myself, what if I asked Yoshi for a hug, even if it seemed like an inadequate substitute at the time? I thought about the girls and I know they would hug me if I asked but I don't know if it was the kind of hug I needed. I think that thought is also the reason I didn't end up asking ***** for a hug either. It wasn't the kind of hug I needed.

Even as I just silently dissociated my way through lunch to avoid crying. Then came ceramics, my mind and body felt all over the place. Like I wanted, needed to do something but couldn't. I was glazing my projects which helped a lot I even got to genuinely smile and laugh at some point, so my day got a little better after that. I could just immerse myself in my art. I could mostly do the same thing in LC while painting posters, so by the time I went home I was a lot better than the latter half of the afternoon.

Hours went by and I forgot about my insistent need for a hug from no one else but for my dad. And eventually, he came home. At that point I didn't feel like I desperately needed a hug anymore, but I thought to myself, I could still use that hug, so I silently moseyed my way out of my room after a moment of contemplation and made my way to his.

I stood at the door and watched for a moment as he was kicking his dirty laundry into a pile on the floor to be washed. I don't know why but that pile of dirty laundry felt like the Mariana trench between him and I at that moment. So instead of wading myself across it I just asked, are you still not working tomorrow? (That's not what I wanted to say but I felt like I needed to say something, anything, to try to bridge that gap)

He confirmed what I already knew, still not looking at me, just focusing on compiling his clothes together. And of course, since I was there standing in the doorway ******(my dog) wanted to come see, and as always he was getting told that he was in the way (I always feel bad when I hear everyone say that, even though it's true and he likes to stick close to your legs causing you to trip) and I don't know why it struck me so much.

Why when he told ******(my dog) to get out and go away it felt like he was saying it to me. I know he wasn't angry or annoyed at me, I know that. He was just tired and now annoyed at the dog. But it hit me, and I couldn't tell you why.

So I silently left and made my way back to my room as he started saying things like all I do is work work work work, work and mop, work and mop... In his usual annoyed tone. I don't know why, but for a moment, I silently stood at my door still just a little cracked as I listened to him rant, even though my heart felt like it was cracking with every word he said.

Finally, I silently shut the door and that's when the waterworks; the one's I had been holding back all day, finally spilled over. I cried for a while rambling and babbling and I had to repeatedly tell myself something I already knew, he's not mad at you, he's just tired and annoyed at the dog, he's just tired and annoyed at the dog, had to tell myself he won't be mad at you if you go to ask for a hug, that's ridiculous, so finally after a while of working up my gall, I splash my face with water in the bathroom make sure it didn't look like I was crying.

And I made my way back to his room, but this time there was no cavernous trench of laundry between us. I silently made my way in and just stood behind him while he was fiddling with his phone and charging, still not saying a word. ******(my dog) followed me along and jumped on his bed. It probably didn't take more than a minute to finish up his fiddling, but it felt like forever, and again I felt like I had to force myself to not make my eyes water, so he couldn't see.

Finally, he turned around and asked me what I wanted, I silently held my arms out for a hug and I asked him if I could get a hug he couldn't hear me so I repeated myself but I don't think it came out as more than a mumble. He got the hint anyway and hugged me. like his hugs. We usually just silently hold each other and sway back and forth on our feet. I like our hugs.

But in that moment it just didn't feel right. I couldn't tell you why. Just that it wasn't. Suddenly he spoke up and said, it'll all be okay. I don't know why he said it. Maybe it showed on my face. Or maybe you didn't show enough.

Because the next moment he's pulling away. Entirely too quickly. A hug. One that earlier in the day I had to actively stop myself from crying out for because I so desperately needed it. A hug I had to give myself a pep talk just ask for. But a hug that felt like it was the answer turned out to break me even more.

After he pulled away he joked about something with the dog and laughed. He laughed. There's nothing wrong with laughing. But in that moment it felt like she was laughing at me. And I had to force myself to let out a laugh too. So he wouldn't see that there's anything wrong.

Even as I silently walked out of his room my back to him so he wouldn't see the tears threatening to spill from my eyes. Mouth tightly shut so he wouldn't hear the sobs threatening to claw up my throat. I silently walked away from his room to mine closed my door, and let the first sob near silently leave my body as it clicked shut. I felt so stupid. I felt useless and like I couldn't do anything.

And so then the waterworks started again as I tried to snuff out the sobs leaving my body. I didn't want him to try to come into my room and see me breaking apart so I decided I was going to take a shower. I wasn't dirty. Not really. But it felt like it, almost. Couldn't let him see. I don't know why he's not allowed to see. He just isn't. So I started quietly cursing myself for being so stupid as I took off my jewelry and grabbed my stuff for the shower. I felt better after the shower. Not entirely. But better than I was before. Didn't feel like I was going to start breaking out in sobs at any second. So, better.

The weapon isn’t sharp,

but it wounds all the same—

innocence worn

like a well-practiced game.

A smile, a shrug,

a task left undone,

they play the fool

but they've already won.

Each failure rehearsed,

each “oops” on display,

leaving the other

to clean up, to stay.

They dodge the load

with a clumsy excuse,

while someone else tightens

what they set loose.

It’s not lack of skill,

nor honest mistake—

it’s a quiet control

they refuse to forsake.

The cost isn't loud,

but it's heavy with strain,

a silent exchange

of effort and pain.

So call it what is—

not careless or dense,

but a choice to avoid

by feigned incompetence.

And the one who bears it

feels furious within,

caught in a loop

they didn’t begin.

["Congratulations! Today is your day. You're off to Great Places! You're off and away!"

"You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own."

"And you know what you know. And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go."

"You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care. About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there." With your head full of brains-"

"-and your shoes full of feet,"

"-you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street."

"And you may not find any you'll want to go down. In that case, of course, you'll head straight out of town. It's opener there in the wide open air. Out there things can happen and frequently do to people as brainy-"

"-and footsy as you."

"And when things start to happen, don't worry. Don't stew. Just go right along. You'll start happening too. Oh! The Places You'll Go!"

"You'll be on your way up! You'll be seeing great sights! You'll join the high fliers who soar to high heights. You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed. You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead. Wherever you fly, you'll be best of the best. Wherever you go, you will top all the rest."

"Except when you don't. Because, sometimes, you won't. I'm sorry to say so but, sadly, it's true that Bang-ups and Hang-ups can happen to you. You can get all hung up in a prickle-ly perch. And your gang will fly on. You'll be left in a Lurch. You'll come down from the Lurch with an unpleasant bump. And the chances are, then, that you'll be left in a Slump.

"And when you're in a Slump, you're not in for much fun. Un-slumping yourself is not easily done. You will come to a place where the streets are not marked. Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked. A place you could sprain both your and elbow and chin!"

"Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in? How much can you lose? How much can you win? And IF you go in, should you turn left or right...or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite? Or go around and back and sneak in from behind? Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find, for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind."

"You can get so confused that you'll start in to race down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace and grin on for miles across weirdish wild space, headed, I fear, toward a most useless place. The Waiting Place..."

"...for people just waiting. Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow, or waiting around for a Yes or No or waiting for their hair to grow. Everyone is waiting.

"Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite or waiting around for Friday night or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake. Or a pot to boil, or a Better Break or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants, or a wig with curls, or Another Chance. Everyone is just waiting."

"No! That's not for you!"

"Somehow you'll escape all that waiting and staying. You'll find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing. With banner flip-flapping, once more you'll ride high! Ready for anything under the sky. Ready because you're that kind of guy!"

"Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done! There are points to be scored. There are games to be won. And the magical things you can do with that ball will make you the winning-est winner of all. Fame! You'll be famous as famous can be, with the whole world watching you win on TV."

"Except when they don't. Because, sometimes, they won't."

"I'm afraid that some times you'll play lonely games too. Games you can't win 'cause you'll play against you. All Alone! Whether you like it or not, Alone will be something you'll be quite a lot."

"And when you're alone, there's a very good chance you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants. There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won't want to go on."

"But on you will go though the weather be foul. On you will go through your enemies prowl. On you will go through the Hakken-Kraks howl. Onward up many a frightening creek,"

"though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak. On and on you will hike. And I know you'll hike far and face up to your problems whatever they are."

"You'll get mixed up, of course, as you already know."

"You'll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go. So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember Life's a Great Balancing Act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left."

"And will you succeed?"

"Yes! You will, indeed! (98 and 1/4 percent guaranteed.) Kid, You'll Move Mountains! So...be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea...or Danny."

"you're off to Great Places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So...get on your way!"]

- from "Wayne's Haunted Mansion" by Tathartiel on AO3 ~132k words (29/?) chapters

•this is from a scene where red hood is reading a Dr Seuss book to Danny, I don't know if this is actually based on an actual Dr Seuss book but I absolutely loved it and I want to share it

OMG this masterpiece! Chef's kiss ❤️‍🔥

Your Biggest Fan: Villian/Yandere Izuku

You Ruined His Plan.

No one was supposed to CARE. They NEVER care. NEVER ask questions. They look, at the red shoes, the note, then shrug it all off. Just another statistic. One more gone, of an already "dying breed".

The Quirkless had been a "dying breed" for a while now.

He bet they didn't even know where that phase came from. It was WAR propaganda. Quirkless population numbers were supposed to level out a decade ago, according to estimates. But noooo! They kept DROPPING!

Dropping, Dropping, DROPPING!

Like notebooks and little boys off roof tops.

No Heroes coming to save them. Smiles for everyone ELSE. Just burns and bad grades they didn't earn, ruined lunches and funeral flowers on desks. Kicking and kicking and PUNCHS until they break! Until they fight back. Until THEY are the problem. THEY are the monsters!

Dreams destroyed and online friends who go silent.

Funerals. Mothers who cry but don't protect you.

ANGER and where are the HEROES?

Here... apparently.

She is... she is standing HERE. Arms crossed. Mouth in a furious line as she listens to the principal spew his excuses. She does not look like she believes a single one. Does not look sympathetic or dismissive in the least.

The disgusting trash around her isn't used to it. Are slowly beginning to sweat. Panic. It is beginning to dawn on them... that there could be CONSEQUENCES for their actions. Their criminal neglect and cruel allowances.

She looks disgusted. Furious. And... when she glances at the supposed last words of Hanako-chan? Utterly heartbroken. She stands, feet planted, shoulders back, as she argues and pulls rank. Threatening to ARREST even the police officers THEMSELVES unless they DO THEIR JOBS.

As is her RIGHT. Because this is not JUSTICE. Nor Vengance. But can bring, at least, closure to the soul of a little girl wronged. Prevent others from harm. And she stands as a shield against that harm. It is her JOB, her DUTY, and so help her, if she must hunt each and every one of them down and HAND DELIVER them to a cell? She WILL.

She stands there, in the cold afternoon light, like...

Like A Hero!

He has to slap both his hands over his mouth. To stop his dreadful muttering habit from escaping again. He... he hasn't found anything INTERESTING enough to mutter about in so LONG. Gotten out of the habit of controlling it. His control is shot. And... and OH~!

Ever since Kacc-... Since All Mi... THEM. He hasn't... hasn't BELIEVED in Heros like he used too. He WANTED too! He did! But...? It was like it just... died inside him. Slowly. Painfully. Screaming.

It HURT.

It hurt so, so much. Everything was angry and grey and TERRIBLE. B...But? But! BUT NOW? It's like a giddy spark of light has struck a match inside the empty cavern inside him, lighting up the massive caves where his belief once lived. I..It's so small and fragile. So WARM.

He scrambles back. Hands pressed to his mouth, eyes shut tight, uncaring of the rough brick he's pressed too as he slides to the wet ground. It scrapes him up. But what's a few more scrapes amongst the rest? He's always hurt. It's his life. It's ALL their lives.

He breathes. Savors the fragile warmth in his chest.

"Hey, are you okay?" That voice. No, no it can't be... his eyes shoot open. Startled he looks up. Directly... into... a.. mask.. "You're looking pretty banged up. My Quirk doesn't have many medical uses, so unless you think you've cracked a bone or something, I hope you're good with band-aids. Fair warning though. All the Froppy one's are already gone. Kid's LOVE frogs."

It IS. His Hero. THE Hero. She must have finished up. Noticed him somehow. Sloppy...

Ah!

Already kneeling, she gently takes his hand. Is already pulling out a medical kit from her thigh pouch. He spots "good job!" Stickers and a few lollipops. He... he has QUESTIONS. For the first time in YEARS. Who is she? What school did she go too? What Quirk does she have? Where does she work out off?

Why did she CARE?

Is it a one off? Would she care AGAIN? Her hands are firm but gentle. She keeps him "distracted". Asking him inane questions to take his mind off his pain. Kind. So KIND~! He manages to get her Hero name before she goes. Sends her off with a smile that hurts his face. Reminds him how many years it's BEEN since he's truely grinned.

He races home. Fingers flying on his phone. His lieutenant can deal with Hanako. Get her settled with her new family. He... he NEEDS too... TOO-!

He SLAMS his shoebox of an apartment open, ignoring the bellowed demands and insults of the filth that live around him. It's only muscle memory that has him locking the dozen locks behind him, to keep out the scum that would attempt to prey upon him.

He... he NEEDS-!

Where?!

There!!!

His "work" laptop. So bleeding edge I-island will be cursing their own bigotry for centuries. If only out of GREED. They don't know what they've lost by turning down those engineers and applicants. But Izuku does. He collects them ALL.

And now it pays off once again.

It take less then a moment. Easier then breathing. And he has EVERYTHING.

Her arrests records. Her case load. Her school records and medical files. Social media. Current audio book. Hero ranking, media presence, the chatter about Her online. EVERYTHING.

It's... it's beautiful.

A "troublemaker" who wouldn't shut up about the injustice she saw around her. Wouldn't stand for it. Got into fights to protect the weak and defenseless. Helped where she could. It put her on the wrong side of the narrative. When she wouldn't shut up about how everything WASN'T fine and what those in power were doing was WRONG.

She was a child, they were not. She HAD the option to shut up and pick her own future over the well being of those around her.

She chose to be a HERO instead.

Like... Like HIM. She was robbed of her DREAM. Of going to UA. The future she wanted, she fought for, needed like AIR.

But... but Aaah~♡ she was so COOL! Didn't give up! She sued. Made a RACKET. And when it got her record wiped but not her chance to enter any Japanese Hero school reinstated? She took the winnings from her lawsuit, her parents reluctant consent, and WENT ABROAD.

Came BACK with a hero license that the Japanese government had to recognize as per international accords. Let her take the final test HERE.

They BURIED her in the rankings. Must HATE her. A real hero, come to SHAME THEM for all they've become~♡ Or, well, HE thinks she will. How can she NOT? When she is so much BETTER?

He needs everything. Bedspread, pillows, posters, sweaters, slippers, MERCH! There's not enough. He should commission some. Where are his notebooks? Ah, no. He needs a NEW one! A better notebook! Oh! Oh! He could COMMISSION a notebook! Oh that's PERFECT!

He may have just met her today?

But he can already TELL~ He's gonna be her NUMBER 1 fan!

Damn I want a whole story on this now

I’ve seen that future…

If you had told Danny that joining the justice league would mean getting up at the ass crack of dawn to go to some stupid meeting, he never would have joined. Well that not fully true but he might have agreed to have a Zata tube installed in Amity. Even with how much he hates those things it still seems like a better idea now that he is flying through space trying to catch up with this stupid satellite. He was already late thanks to Skulker, which means he missed his perfectly times window to catch the watchtower in orbit so now he’s here playing catch up.

He didn’t even bother to slow down from his Mach 20 pace when he reached it. Just turned intangible and shot through the window into the meeting room. He was expecting to get scolded for being late. Or for his dramatic entrance but he was not expecting the other members to not notice him at all on account of them arguing.

Taking the golden opportunity to get out of a scolding, (he did not want to be the victim of another bat glare) he kept he’s mouth shut and floated down to Hal. Who seemed to be sulking off to the side of the fight. “Dude, what’s gonna on?”

“Batman,” the name was spat like a curse. “Had plans on how to take us all out.” Hal waved to the screen before him, inviting Danny to look.

“Really?” He floated to the screen, seeing files with each leaguer’s name. After a moment of hesitation, he clicked on his own.

“Yeah! Can you fucking believe this?” Hal growled out. “He planned on how to kill us all and is now acting like we’re the unreasonable ones.” Danny would normally be shaken by Hal’s anger. The guy so rarely got truly anger that it startled Danny every time. In that moment however he couldn’t bring his attention way from the screen. It was a decent plan. Risky, unlikely to work but decent. The fact Batman did this at all though. “You think you know a guy, right? Phantom?” Hal asked when he saw the ghost wasn’t responding to him.

Before he could continue his questioning Phantom shot off across the room. All leaguers that could keep up with the ghost speed braces from a fight when they saw him heading straight for Batman. They were anger with him yeah but they didn’t want him dead. They all knew Phantom was physically capable of doing that and had only seen him fly this fast in battle.

Their concern turned to confusion however when Danny stopped dead still just before the dark knight. Looking the man over before reaching to the side, Danny’s hand disappearing into a green vortex that appeared out of thin air. When he pulled back, a small metal box, no bigger than a watch box, laid in his hand as he presented it to Batman.

“This is a blood blossom.” The soft words cut through the tense silence. “It is one of, no it is the only thing that can kill me. For good.” Batman looked at the box, then at the boy. Determination sat on his brows despite the tired sadness that coloured his eyes. “If I…” His eyes broke away from the white lenses. “If I go bad. Please. I understand you don’t want to kill. So please, give this to someone who will kill me.”

No one moved for a moment as they processed the request. Emotions shifting wildly in them all. Superman’s landing on anger. “Why would you give him that?!” He stepped forward. “He already plans to kill us all why would you give him that?!”

“Because I’ve seen that future.” The conference was stated plainly. Melancholy waiting down on the boy as he turn to the others. “The realms are different than here.” His trembled. “Time works differently. You can walk into tomorrow and run into yesterday. Every possibly future exists within the realms.”

He scanned each heroes face as his voice harden. “I’ve seen what happens. I know what happens if I turn.” Danny took a deep breath as he met superman’s eyes. Gazing at him with eyes that saw more than what was in front of him. “I killed you first Clark.” It was stated as fact. Non of them could bring themselves to doubt him. “Then Diana. Then Hal. One by one each one of you were killed… by me.”

His breath came out frosted, his emotions making it hard to keep from freezing the watchtower as he turned back to Batman. “You survived the longest. Out of everyone here you got the closest to stopping me. In that reality however, you didn’t know about ghost. Didn’t know how to fight me.” He held out the box again. “Please, I can’t let that future happen.”

Everyone was stunned. Watching in silent shock as the horror of what Phantom said sunk in. Batman recovers quickest, slowly reaching out to grab that box which he now identified as being made of lead.

“Thank you Phantom.” There was more to those words than what it may appear. A silent reassess that the ghost picked up on.

“Can’t You Just…”

A shrug, a grin, “You’re better, see?”

Dropped the ball—again—carefree.

Burnt the toast, forgot the chore,

Left the mess and asked for more.

A tangled web of small mistakes,

Too many spills, too few breaks.

The other watches, calm in face,

But furious deep beneath the grace.

“It’s not on purpose,” they insist,

While every task is somehow missed.

Funny how the job goes fine

When no one's watching, drawing the line.

A clumsy act, rehearsed, refined—

A quiet scheme that’s undermined.

It isn’t skill they lack or lose,

It’s choice—they’ve learned to not to choose.

So one picks up what’s left behind,

The weight, the work, the ties that bind.

It’s not that they can’t carry their share—

It’s knowing someone else will care.

Mary's boy:

Did Mary scream when she held the body of a boy; everyone's but hers? At the blood on his crown, did she lick her fingers and wipe it clean? Smooth back his hair like she did when he was just a babe? Wash the red from his feet, never drank wine again. Pulled at the nails in his tender hands until hers were raw. Maybe she spit and yelled and cried at anyone who came too close to her boy gone limp and blue. Even the believers turned away. They didn't love her boy. His messy hair and soft eyes, his gentle hands, whispered voice. The way he hid in the river and spoke to the fish like old friends. Came home with dirty feet and flushed cheeks. Her running, dancing, singing boy. They didn't love her boy. They loved God's son. Not Mary's boy.

*Echoes of the End*

The earth once sang in hues of green,

Now silenced by the scars unseen.

The forests fall, the deserts grow,

As endless winds of sorrow blow.

The air is thick with silent cries,

While fading suns paint fractured skies.

The oceans choke on plastic breath,

And creatures flee from certain death.

Mountains crumble, rivers dry,

As we stand still and wonder why.

A fleeting moment, lost in time,

The rhythm of the world’s last rhyme.

We’ve sown the seeds, now bear the cost,

As futures fade and dreams are lost.

A dying world, a dying call,

Can we still rise before we fall?

@Bambi: decorum? in this economy? went bankrupt. it's all about debauchery now

OMG I love this so much!