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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Note

I am looking forward to reading the continuation of the alternative ending of satisfied! Can’t wait! 😜

Happy Easter lmao here’s your monthly dose of depression ig

Though this one is slightly more lighthearted than usual

first part

next part

@solangelo252

The life of a captive of Bruce Wayne was surprisingly posh.

Maybe her standards were just really low because the last place she’d been held had been a lab where fear gas was tested on her almost daily(? her concept of time was fuzzy)... or maybe the Waynes just knew how to treat a kidnapee. Who knew.

But, hey, she’d been given a phone!

It was hacked, of course. Anything on the internet that even vaguely mentioned Bruce Wayne, the bats, or the Rogues was impossible to access. This had been a little annoying, but not necessarily unexpected. She was more surprised that they were giving her a phone at all.

She sat on the end of the bed, legs swinging like a toddler’s as she looked through twitter.

Gotham twitter just wasn’t the same, though. Where were the people joking about how they’d been praying for a Scarecrow attack so they wouldn’t have to take their finals? The underpaid cafe workers talking about how Batman had come in at 5am for coffee to get through the last leg of patrols and they had to turn him down because they weren’t open yet? Even the usual jokes about the Next Wayne(TM) were hidden from her! No, the internet almost seemed empty.

This left her with very few things to do. It wasn’t like she could request people to talk to her -- not that she’d wanted to, she didn’t want to bother them -- so… she was pretty much always working out or sleeping.

Working out was nice. She hadn’t been allowed to do it much while with Harley and it felt weird to be so out of shape. Who knew it could happen so fast? Certainly not her, and she was going to rectify her newfound lack of athletic ability. Dick even came by daily to help, so she was quickly getting back into the swing of things.

But as for sleeping...

Kwami, she missed caffeine.

Her subconscious was apparently determined to torture her.

(She supposed someone had to do it, since Joker hadn’t followed through on his intentions.)

Most dreams were haunted with memories of the stupid fear gas-induced hallucinations. The bats, now accompanied by Harley, would tell her exactly how much of a screw up she was. They’d give her disgusted looks and admit that they regretted ever talking to her or taking her in. And then they’d leave her, alone, surrounded by the corpses of she hadn’t been able to help.

She’d wake up crying and alone. She’d put on a random podcast and then wrap herself up in her blankets to try and trick her mind into thinking someone was with her.

And, when it wasn’t that dream, she found herself drowning in acid again. For such a short part of a series of unfortunate events, it sure did have an effect on her. She’d scream as the acid touched her skin, burned her lungs, tried to seep into her ear canals… and then she’d get pulled out to look at Joker’s smug face and she’d almost want to be pushed back under because she hated to see him looking so satisfied.

Those ones hurt. She’d wake up, her throat screamed raw, her lungs aching. Even hours later, she’d find herself running her hands over every bit of exposed skin to try and get rid of the feeling of the acid gnawing away at her.

The worst dreams, though, were the ones where she’d be visited by Bruce. Everything would go to plan. She’d stab him in the jugular and then pull the pen out, watching as blood spurted from the wound. He’d fall to the ground at her feet, unable to speak above the blood gurgling in his throat, and she’d just watch him. He didn’t even look betrayed, he just looked… he looked like he accepted it, like he accepted her and what she’d done and that he still cared for her after all that she’d done.

And then she’d wake up, but she never really felt awake when those dreams came. She felt like she was still half asleep, her body more limp than Bruce’s had been at the end of her dream, and any emotion she should have seemed impossible.

She hated the numb. At least she could do something with the screaming and the crying, at least she could bring herself down from those. How do you bring yourself down when you aren’t up in the first place?

But, maybe it was a good thing she was numb. It boded well for her. At least she wouldn’t be hurting if -- WHEN -- she managed to do it for real.

She turned off her phone, disappointed as always by how little content interested her, and almost cringed when she caught her appearance in the black screen.

Her skin was bleached from her time in the chemicals. The blood vessels under her eyes had burst when she’d been forced to go without coffee for too long. One of her cheeks were sucked in seemingly permanently from how often she’d been biting it. Her lips were stained cherry-red and stretched thinner than she remembered. Where her ears should have been were large holes in the sides of her head...

But nevermind that! The door slid open with a metallic hiss.

She didn’t know why she’d hoped it would be Bruce, she’d known perfectly well that that wouldn’t be happening for quite some time -- if ever -- but there she was, hoping it would be him. That this would end quickly.

Nope.

She looked up at Cass and Duke and her heart twinged painfully when she saw them.

She had missed them. So much.

(She’d almost been disappointed when she’d found out that they wouldn’t be home when she was going to try and kill Bruce, but then again she wanted them to continue liking her so maybe it was for the best she didn’t attempt to kill their father right in front of them...)

It was nice to see them again. Honestly, she’d missed them more than anyone else. They were her favorites.

(She couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about that. They were pretty much everyone’s favorites.)

She practically threw herself into Duke’s arms. He laughed and, though he struggled a little, he managed to catch her. She buried her face in his chest.

“Wow. I see how it is,” Cass said, but Marinette could hear the smile in her voice so she didn’t bother pulling away. Instead, she reached an arm in the direction of her voice and, once she’d managed to catch the sleeve of her shirt, dragged her into the hug.

The three Diversity Adoptees stayed like that for a long time.

And then she pulled back. “You guys better not have gone ahead in the show without me.”

Duke’s face twitched into a frown momentarily before he smiled again, ruffling her hair. “We didn’t. Scout’s honor.”

“You were a scout?”

He snorted. “God no.”

“Then --?”

“Shhhhhh,” he said, using the hand already in her hair to pull her into a noogie.

“Fuck offfffff,” she whined, trying to peel his knuckles away from her scalp.

Cass pulled her away from Duke. Strong arms wrapped her in a new hug and she blinked before returning it.

“Little sister. Leave her alone,” said Cass.

Marinette shot him a nasty grin from between her arms and Duke sputtered. “But I --.”

“Little sister,” she said again, like that explained anything. Maybe it did. Marinette didn’t particularly care because Cass was smoothing out her hair and it really did feel much better than the noogie she’d been getting…

She closed her eyes and leaned into her, relaxing.

Or, at least, she’d tried to relax. Until Duke sighed dramatically and said “Oh well, I guess I have five months of episodes to go through alone…”

“Wait --!”

She barely managed to lift her head up when she heard the door slide open, and then she bolted upright when she saw who it was.

Jason.

Her hand slid into her pocket, to the pen resting there, and she slowly pulled off the cap.

No. She couldn’t do that. If she tried to kill him then her pen would be confiscated and she couldn’t even imagine being able to kill Bruce with her bare hands.

(Granted, she didn’t really think she had a good chance of killing him with a pen -- it was a PEN -- but it the chances were more than 0% so it was overall way better than just trying to choke him out or something.)

She closed the pen and settled for glaring at him.

This fucker was the reason that she was there in the first place, and he hadn’t even given her an honorable battle that would have felt satisfying, what a --!

He held out a cup of coffee as a peace offering.

What an amazing person. Literally an angel. She loved him. Her favorite member of the batfamily.

If she’d had any less pride, she would have ran to get the coffee. As it was, she still speedwalked to take it off his hands.

The moment the drink touched her tongue, tension she hadn’t even noticed seemed to dissipate. The calm was quickly taken over by desperation, though. She had to fight herself not to chug it down.

(She also had to fight a wave of nausea, her body was not at all used to taking in any food or drinks anymore, but damn it she was going to get this coffee down if it killed her... again.)

Even with her super amazing self-restraint, the drink was gone within seconds. She swirled the remaining dregs, considering the pros and cons of trying to drink it because she remembered someone telling her that the last sip of drinks are always backwash…

But it was backwash that might have had caffeine in it, so she drank it.

She smiled brightly at him. Kwami, she’d missed caffeine so much. The only person who had given her coffee was Riddler the few times he had come to visit. Apparently Harley didn’t approve of it, though, because he had only brought her coffee three times before he’d suddenly stopped appearing.

… she hoped Riddler was still alive. She’d liked Riddler.

But she knew that asking about any of the Rogues would make the bats think that she wasn’t ‘healing’ up properly. So, instead of asking about him, she said “You know, B is gonna kill you for giving me coffee. I just got unaddicted.”

Jason groaned. “Great. Thanks for telling me AFTER you drank it all.”

“Of course. I wasn’t going to let you take it away from me,” she chirped.

He rolled his eyes. “Rude. Fine, I guess you won’t be addicted since it was only one cup. Can’t get in much trouble if I don’t give you more.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait --.”

“Yeah. I’d really prefer if the bats weren’t annoyed at me, so I guess that’s all you’re going to be getting.”

“Jay, wait, I didn’t mean it --.”

“Oh well,” he sighed. He brought a hand to his forehead like he was feeling faint. “If only I had an amazing little sister who would give me a hug --.”

She was wrapped around him before he’d even finished his sentence. Sure, it was blatant manipulation, but there was no way in hell that she was losing her one chance at caffeine.

(Besides, it was a hug. Hugs were nice.)

She’d spent the rest of the day with him, exchanging jokes about death.

The others didn’t really like them. Even Dick, who always liked a good pun, would only get sad when she joked about how she wasn’t alive anymore.

Jason, though… Jason understood.

And his death had been years ago. So he had a lot more jokes than she did.

“Ohohoh one time someone tried to flirt with me by saying they were a necrophiliac and I said ‘deadass?’ and…” He snickered. “And they said ‘yeah, exactly’.”

She brought a hand to her mouth, trying to hide her smile. “Oh my kwami, really?”

“I’m dead serious.”

She rolled her eyes. “I mean, I’d say they were going to hell, but they’d probably like it there.”

He laughed a little, shaking his head.

“It’s nice having someone to make jokes with. Damian doesn’t like joking about it.”

“I know. He’s always all…” He screwed up his face and raised his voice to a whine “‘It is not a joking matter, Todd’.”

She gasped. “It’s almost like he’s here with us.”

“Uncanny, right?”

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax.

“... I missed you. We all did,” he said quietly.

She didn’t know what to say to that. Not really. She ended up just giving a tiny laugh and shrugging her shoulders.

His phone beeped in his pocket and she heard him shift to check it. He groaned. “Sorry, kid, I’ve got patrols.”

She nodded slightly and fell back on the bed with a yawn. “You’re coming back tomorrow, right?”

There was a beat.

She cracked her eyes open to see him considering the idea.

“Please?” She tried.

Another beat.

He broke into a grin. “You just want more coffee.”

“Guilty as charged,” she said, not even a little sheepish. “But I don’t mind the fact that you’re coming either.”

“I feel so loved.”

“You are,” she said, with a little pout thrown in for good measure.

He ended up agreeing to bring her coffee daily. She smirked after him. He wasn’t the only one that could manipulate people for things he wants.

Her smirk dropped the moment her hand slipped into her pockets and she realized he’d taken the pen from her when she’d given him a hug.

Bastard.

Her eyes flicked past her visitor briefly and she was met with a nondescript, white wall. She was pretty sure that this wasn’t Wayne manor, with it’s dark reds and browns, but she was almost willing to ignore that logic so she could believe that it was. At least if it was Wayne manor she might have been able to guess her coordinates by making portals appear in rooms at random until she found it. But if she was just… in a place then how was she supposed to ever get out?

She didn’t let this show on her face, because of all of them Dick was the most emotionally intelligent and would definitely notice. Instead, she beamed at him.

“Ready for our workout session?”

It was kinda weird, because it was so much like their old routine. They would stretch and talk and practice new moves… but it didn’t feel at all the same. Before everything had happened they had talked about meaningful things; list off their emotions and talk shit about the other bats (they loved them, sure, but they were a handful).

Now, though, neither of them were actually talking much. There was very little going on in her life, so she didn’t know what to say and he… he seemed to think she was weak or something, like she couldn’t take it. One time he’d almost slipped up and told her about how Tim was worrying him because he was getting borderline obsessive and then, when she’d politely pressed for more, he’d clammed up and told her that she didn’t need to worry about that.

She kind of didn’t like the sessions with Dick. They felt wrong.

But she really missed him and his octopus hugs that she could melt into. So she never told him and they kept doing them.

“Jason gave you coffee,” said Dick instead of greeting her.

“... I managed to do a triple backflip!”

He raised his eyebrows at her and she chose to interpret this as him being disbelieving of her ability to do a triple backflip from the ground (which was fair, she’d taken ages to manage it even once and she had nothing but free time) and not him noticing her feeble attempt at changing the subject.

“I did! Look!”

She tried and landed flat on her face. She could hear his strained breathing as he tried his hardest not to laugh. She wished the floor would just swallow her whole.

At least he wasn’t concerned about the coffee thing anymore?

He took a seat in front of her and she slowly raised her head to look at him despite the fact that she very much wanted to burrow into the floor and never emerge ever again.

“We have footage of it, so I’ve seen it, don’t worry. Tim was pretty proud of you so he showed everyone… and I’m proud of you, too, obviously. That took me years.”

She smiled brightly. Tim was apparently proud of her. She didn’t see much of him, so it was kind of nice to know that he was watching over her... even if it was a little creepy that there were people watching her pretty much every moment of every day to make sure she didn’t escape or kill herself.

“Seriously, though, I’m not letting Jason back if he keeps bringing you coffee.”

The smile on her face dropped and she bit the inside of her cheek. Part of her was kind of mad that Jason had taken the pen from her -- really, she should have figured out that that was what was going on, though, he was never the most cuddly -- and the other part was desperate for coffee.

The coffee addiction won out.

“But…” She sniffled a little and pulled tears to her eyes. She tried not to think about how easily they came. “But I need…”

Dick groaned quietly and she felt arms hook under hers and pull her into a hug.

“This isn’t going to work.”

She buried her face in his shoulder and let the tears fall.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“I can’t sleep,” she whispered. “Please. I can’t. Please.”

Ah. That was a little more genuinely vulnerable than she’d intended on being.

But, hey, it was working. She heard Dick’s breath catch at the admission.

“Why not?” He said softly, running a hand up and down her back.

Why he even bothered to ask, she didn’t know. The bats knew about her nightmares. They knew about everything she did, why would they stop when she fell asleep? But she hadn’t mentioned it up until that point and they hadn’t brought it up either.

Still, she mumbled “Nightmares.” She hesitated only slightly before adding that it was “Ironic that NightMare has nightmares, but...”

Dick gave a laugh and she felt herself smile at the sound. He always did like bad puns. Her smile dropped a little when he told her “You still need sleep.”

She laughed bitterly. “It’s not like I’m getting much of it when I wake up every ten minutes anyways.”

He sighed and she felt his head rest on top of hers. “I guess one cup a day isn’t that bad…”

She gave a halfhearted cheer.

“Would you like to talk about your dreams? Sometimes that helps...”

She didn’t even hesitate to shake her head no. She did, however, hesitate to pull away from the hug. She liked Dick’s hugs far more than she’d ever admit, and ever since she’d come back she’d liked them even more. He was just about the right size and just squishy enough for her to pretend she was getting a hug from Harley.

But, eventually, she managed to pull herself together and she pushed him off as gently as she could.

“Ready to workout?”

Dick was wearing a particularly sad look that she decided didn’t look right on his face.

But then he brought a smile to his face and nodded. “Bet you I’m still more flexible.”

“Probably, but don’t get used to it. Your days as the world’s best gymnast are numbered.”

“Hm. We’ll see.”

Damian.

She blinked at him. She really hadn’t expected him to… come by at all, honestly. Sure, they’d been getting along better than they’d used to and they were partners before she’d disappeared, but they weren’t partners anymore. He had no reason to come talk to her.

She smiled at him nonetheless. Company was company, and she wasn’t about to be picky when she was locked in a room for the foreseeable future.

“Dami!” She said brightly, crossing her legs criss-cross applesauce and then -- after thinking about it for a moment -- smoothed her dress out to make sure everything was hidden. (Damian was only a few months younger than her, she knew that logically, but some dumb part of her kept saying ‘child’.)

He regarded her for a moment before taking a seat beside her.

“Marinette,” he greeted carefully.

“Are you here for something?” She asked.

He hesitated, just slightly, and then nodded.

Ah. She wasn’t sure how she could be of help, compromised as she was, but she was certainly ready to try.

“I would like to know about my miraculous. Plagg has been… behaving oddly recently.”

Her smile slipped off her face at that. “Oddly how?” She said, eyeing his pockets like she believed the kwami would pop out at any moment and show her himself (which, granted, was entirely possible, but apparently not going to happen).

“He’s been more energetic. Less hungry. It doesn’t make sense.”

She thought about this for a few minutes, resting her head on her hand. Damian was right, that didn’t make sense… if anything, Plagg had been getting more laidback and mellow as time has stretched on...

Unless…

“Have you been using him?”

“... no. Is he just hyper from not being used, then?”

She stared at him, her head tipping to the side slightly as she considered him. Why wasn’t he using the miraculous? She would understand if it was a tactical decision to keep Catw -- was she called something else now that she was using the ladybug miraculous? -- Selina from using the miraculous as often, but it seemed he didn’t really know about that… so why…?

She pushed the thought from her mind. Maybe Damian just didn’t like the smell of Camambert. She wouldn’t blame him.

“It’s a balance thing. If the ladybug is used without the cat, the ladybug gets weaker and the cat gets stronger. Opposite thing happens when you use the cat without the ladybug. They’re meant to be used as a pair.” She clicked her tongue. “It probably doesn’t help that you’re on different sides.”

He nodded his understanding.

There was a beat as they just stood there (well, technically they were sitting, but whatever). She was kind of wondering why he was still there when he apparently didn’t need anything else from her, but what was she going to do? Tell him to leave? No. She was kind of desperate for the company of someone that wasn’t Jason or Dick (Cass and Duke only came by weekly so she didn’t mind them as much… also, they were Cass and Duke, so...).

He cleared his throat awkwardly, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Drake has informed me of your state.”

“I’m dead, yeah,” she confirmed.

He winced and his eyes fell to his lap. “I have also died before, if you would like to talk about it.”

She stared at him. She really hadn’t taken him for the kind of person who would offer moral support…

She pulled a smile to her face and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. Her smile became a little more real as she watched him scowl and wipe away the kiss.

“Thanks for the offer, Dami, but I’m fine.”

He gave her a skeptical look.

“Really. I’ll tell you guys as much as I need to for you to believe it: nothing much happened while I was there. Honestly, it was more boring than scary. So relax, I’m fine. I’ll live.”

And then, because she couldn’t help it, she added: “Well, that ship sailed long ago, but you know what I mean.”

He clicked his tongue. “Now I have to deal with terrible death jokes from you AND Todd? I wish I were dead.”

“You wish you were STILL dead, you mean?” She teased, reaching out to pinch his cheeks and breaking out into laughter when he swatted her hands away.

He rolled his eyes at her and then, with a short ‘Goodbye’, he left. She watched him leave, and the smile slid from her face in time with the door sliding shut behind him.

She fell back on the bed and closed her eyes. She didn’t get why people were so concerned about her. They’d faced worse. Hell, even SHE’D faced worse. Why were they making such a big deal about it?

Nothing had happened! Did they believe her when she told them that? She’d had no reason to lie, and she hadn’t been lying... and even if they’d thought she had they had Cass to prove she wasn’t. Hell, that was probably why Cass had come by at all, to check on her mental state! So why were they all so worried? They should know it was fine!

And even if she wasn’t fine (which she was!) it wasn’t like she didn’t have the same training as them. She could spot the victim questions from a mile away and she could even ask them to herself. She knew the answers, and she knew which ones she should be avoiding because she knew that they sounded way worse than they actually were.

Some vague part of her whispered that if anything sounded at all bad to the victim questions then she was, in fact, a victim. She buried her face in her pillow and gave a strangled scream of frustration. Now she had their stupid voices in her head telling her something was wrong, too.

She didn’t even look up from her phone when she heard the door slide open. Partially because she was kind of addicted to Geometry Dash and she wouldn’t win if she was looking up and partially because she could smell coffee so she knew who it was anyways.

“Thank fuck you’re here, Jay, I was --.”

“Sorry, but you’re going to have to wait a little longer for him, bean.”

Her eyes snapped to the door and her little box thingy on her screen died but she could hardly bring herself to care.

Tim!

Her face lit up. She hadn’t seen him in a while and she had really been missing him. Also, she noted vaguely, he was apparently healed from all of his injuries. Nice!

Except, as she scrutinized his face, she noticed he looked even more tired than usual. His skin was deathly pale, the bags under his eyes made him look like a raccoon, his hair hung limply around his face…

“Damn, and I thought I looked dead on my feet,” she teased softly to hide her concern.

He managed a smile and she waved him over to lay down with her. He hesitated before coming to sit beside her on the bed.

“When’s the last time you got some proper sleep?” She asked, tugging on the sleeve of his turtleneck to try and get him to lay down and cuddle with her. If she could get him to he might accidentally drift off.

He must have known what she was trying, because he resisted her attempts. “I’m fine. It’s been a while, but it’s nothing I’m not used to.”

She crossed her arms. “Fine. What’s wrong?”

He stared at her confusedly.

“You only get this bad when something is going on. What is it?”

He just kept staring at her and she shifted awkwardly.

“... bean…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s you. I’m worried about you.”

She groaned. “Not you, too.”

“Obviously I’m --.” He cut himself off and then mulled over his words for a bit. He decided on: “I don’t want to keep you here forever. I don’t want you to get ‘better’ because we Stockholm syndrome-ed you. Or re-Stockholm syndrome-ed you, since Harley already did it.”

“She didn’t --,” Marinette started, but she gave up on that. She knew they all didn’t understand it and arguing would probably only solidify their belief that Harley had messed her up in some way. Instead, she settled to address the rest of the statement: “I mean… I already liked you all beforehand so… it’s not like caring about you would be exactly NEW...”

“It’s still wrong.”

She gave a tiny shrug. “It’s not like you have any other options. I’d probably be doing the same thing if everything was reversed.”

“That doesn’t really make me feel better,” said Tim with a tiny shake of his head.

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep the frown off of her face. “Then I don’t know what you want from me, Tim.”

He sighed. “I want you to get better.”

“Hard to do when I’m already fine.”

“But you’re not! You’re literally dead! How is that at all fine?!”

She rolled her eyes. She was getting a headache, though she wasn’t sure whether or not it was because of caffeine withdrawal (she was pretty sure Jason was supposed to have come in a few hours ago) or annoyance at repeating herself so many times. She pressed her cold hand to her forehead to try and alleviate it somewhat.

“It’s not even that bad, honestly. I can still drink coffee and sleep and that’s all I really care about. I can even feel pain! It’s pretty much the same except I don’t have to go to the bathroom and I can’t change clothes!”

Tim stared at her for a few moments before slamming his palm against his forehead. “That’s what it is!”

“Huh?”

“I thought something was weird about you being dead,” he explained, though it didn’t really explain anything. “Give me a minute, I’ll be back.”

She watched him practically run out the door and frowned confusedly. Sure, it was a little weird that she could still do most stuff, but that didn’t really warrant getting up in such a rush. Maybe the dead thing creeped him out more than he let on and he needed a breather?

So she picked up her phone and started playing Geometry Dash again while she waited for him to come back.

About an hour later she heard the door slide open and she raised her eyebrows at the sight of Tim holding a thermos and a plastic tray of food from Red Robin (the restaurant; anything he cooked was straight poison and if she tried it she might just die for real).

She watched him sit down with them. “You hungry?”

He shook his head and shoved them towards her. “They’re for you.”

Her confusion only seemed to grow.

“Sweetie, I don’t eat,” she reminded him, though she did take the thermos in case… nice! Coffee!

“Except you can if you want to, which is weird, right?”

She shrugged a little, not bothering to tear her lips away from her drink to give him a proper ‘I guess’.

“But where’s it going? Because you don’t go to the bathroom so it has to be used up in some way otherwise you would have probably exploded by now.”

She finished the drink and then set down the empty thermos beside herself. “Magic, probably…”

“Maybe,” he gave her, but that didn’t seem to put him out. “But then there’s the pain thing. Sure, it’s muted, but it’s definitely still there. Why should a dead person feel pain?”

“Because I’m not fully dead…?”

“Exactly!”

She shrugged again. “I really don’t see where you’re going with this.”

“What if you just need food or something to come back? Because you clearly had a headache, and it seems like it’s caffeine-related because you’ve relaxed a little since you had your coffee, which means we know that your digestive, nervous, and circulatory system are still working on some level...”

She stared at the food he’d given her.

“You think that if I eat enough I can come back.”

He nodded. “I know it’s a longshot, but we should at least try it, right?”

#lowkey asks like this stress me out #like i worry that if people are looking forward to something ill let them down #im off to psychoanalyze myself be back in a year #me. noticing something weird about myself: hey ferb i know what were gonna do today #anyways tags #alternate ending #alternative ending #i didn't even notice that i forgot the name lol but i dont wanna retag or anything so we use both #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #maribat #joker #harley quinn #harley quinzel

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kareniliana · 3 years

Text

Marcel: Crazy Ex Drama

A//N: Hey people! I’ve come up with a schedule. I will write as much as I can over the week. In between class work or classes and tutor sessions. Then edit and post them on the weekends. Imma try this week to do that. And we’ll go from there.

If y'all want to request anything, my inbox is open.

Oh I almost forgot, this one shot mentions abusive relations with drug using and cheating. I am in no way trying to romanticize abuse or anything. I just started writing and this came out. I do apologize if I insult anyone, please call me out on it. And I will correct it or take it down. I truly mean no harm here.

xx Karebear 💛🧸

You were visiting New Orleans for a girls trip with two of your best friends, Eva and Lucy. You went college with them, lived with them when you first graduated and now you live hours away from each other. Not seeing each other often put a strain on your friendship so you came up with the brilliant idea that you would visit New Orleans for a girls trip. It’s perfect, you’ll drink your liver away.

The first two nights visiting were a blur, you weren’t sure which bars you were at and which you hadn’t visited yet. But for the third day, you were going to keep it low-key but fun.

At lunch, you and your friends sat at a bar talking to a nice blonde bartender. She informed you she had a psych degree and your friends didn’t stop bothering her until y'all left. But she enjoyed the company and psychoanalyzing. You however was busy making eyes with a beautiful chocolate man across the restaurant. His smile caught your eyes, it was genuine and brightening.

Finally she turned to look at you, “what about you? Any guy problems?”

“Oh does she ever, she just got out of a very abusive relationship.” Your drunk friend started, earning a deep sigh from you.

“He cheated, lied, did drugs, verbally abuse me and sometimes he would hit me. I left him, filed a restraining order- I got out.” You shrugged your shoulders, not wanting to talk about it any longer.

You stuck around to drink and chill, the vibe in this bar was immaculate. You had forced yourself, to stop looking for the man. Wanting him to come to your, which he did. He placed his hand on the seat next to yours.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked, his deep voice made you want to melt.

“No, go for it.” You smiled, he pulled the seat out sitting with you.

“Cami, can I get another and,” He looked to you, “Anything she wants.”

You caught his gaze, holding eye contact. “Uh, I'll have what he's having.”

“Alright, two bourbons.” She grabs another glass and serves you the liquid. Your friends and cami seeing what’s happening.

“I’m Marcel.” He handed his hand out for you to shake, you smiled gently placing your hand in his.

“Y/n, it’s nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, and on behalf of my beautiful city, welcome to New Orleans. I am more than happy to show you around. Say tonight, at 7. I can meet you or pick you up, whatever you choose.” He was smooth.

Cami placed the cups down in front of you both,“You can pick me up at the Hotel just down the street.” You pointed down the road to your hotel, the only hotel within a mile radius.

“Alright.” He smiled brightly, his smile making you almost giggle like a school girl.

He lifted his drink, signally for you to follow suit. He raised his glass, waiting for you. You clashed your drinks together, taking a sip.

“Tell me, why New Orleans?”Marcel asked as you both set the drinks down.

“Oh well, I hadn’t seen my best friends, Eva and Lucy,” You motioned to the girls,”In maybe 8 months. We had spent nearly five years living together.”

Eva leaned over, “Now we’re all hours away from each other, we don’t get much time to visit.”

“It’s mandatory for us to go on a girls trip at least every month.” You added, taking another sip, knowing Lucy will butt in next. Marcel just watching the vibe between you three, he thought it looked like the human way of a family. Which you were, Eva and Lucy are your family.

“But someone” Lucy points to you behind your head, “got into a - Okay! I think that’s enough from you two.” You interrupted her, you were okay talking to women about your abusive relationship, but when it came to telling men- let alone someone you just met and are interested in- you weren’t comfortable yet. And you didn’t want your friend to unload that kind of baggage.

However, Marcel already knows. You have no knowledge of the supernaturals in the world, you didn’t know that Marcel already heard you talk about it. He heard your heartbeat rise when Lucy began to talk about it. You were nervous, which he understood. And he couldn’t help but want you more. He wanted to protect you.

“Okay fine, we’ll just see you back at the hotel later. We’re gonna go find something to do.” Eva gathered herself and Lucy, who seemed to be pretty drunk already.

Saying their goodbyes and your focus was back to the present.

Marcel placed his hand on yours, You looked to him. “Whatever Lucy was going on about, I don’t want you to worry about it. Whatever it is, you can tell me or not. I understand.”

You smiled, you could see it in his face. You knew he knew.“Thank you, but something tells me you already know?”

He sighed, “I’m only guessing it wasn’t something good.”

“He was abusive, a cheater, and an addict. I thought I could change him, help him. He was good, until he wasn’t. But I did all the steps. I documented, went to friends and police. I got a restraining order, I moved, got a new job, a place all by myself. I’m doing better now, that’s what is important.” You explained, feeling accomplished and grateful you were able to get out.

You were proud of yourself and made progress moving on from everything.

Behind you, in a corner, a vampire calls Marcel away. Marcel signally to give him a minute.

“I’m proud of you, Y/n. Thats good! How about another drink?” You nodded, as he signaled for Cami.

“I’m sorry but will you excuse me for a second, I’m just gonna go to the bathroom for a quick second. Don’t go anywhere just yet, okay?” He asked, getting up his seat.

“Oh yeah no, go for it.” You smiled and his hand brushed your shoulder.

Cami comes back with your refill, “Im sorry I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I’m really happy you’re in a good place right now.”

“Oh no it’s okay, you basically already knew. Minor details. Thank you.”

“Y’know Marcel is a really great guy,” She began to make a drink for someone across the bar. “He looks out for the tourists and locals, keeps them safe.”

“So this city, is his or?” Cami laughs, if only you knew.

“He’s very influential here, stick with him. You’ll be safe.” Cami walks off, serving the drink she just made.

You look at the menu for desserts, sipping your bourbon. Then Marcel comes back, sitting down without a word.

“Is the pie any good Marcel-” You turn to look to Marcel but see Jason instead. Instantly you sprung up to your feet, pushing your stool back. Jason reached out for your arm, squeezing it harder than he thought he would.

The sound of the stool being pushed caught Cami’s attention, watching from the end of the bar. Seeing the disgust for him on your face, your body language stiff but grounded and unwavering.

Just as she was about to go to you, Marcel walked back in from the back. Vampire drama dealt with. “Cami, what’s up?”

“I think that's her ex.” Cami’s eyes never leaving you.

Jason grabbed you, keeping you there.”Wait, please just hear me out.”

You looked at his hand squeezing you, it began to hurt. “Let. Me. Go.” Looking back up at him, his eyes red teary. He was high.

He scoffed, “No, just hear me out.”

“I have a restraining order dude! Let me go!” You raised your voice, catching Marcels attention. Swiftly he walked to you two.

“I do believe she told you to let her go.” Marcel intervened, one hand placed gently on your back.

“This doesn’t concern you!” He belted at Marcel, digging his fingers deeper. you helped in pain. Marcel took a hold of Jasons hand, squeezing it with his vampire strength. Jasons claws unlatched from you, it will definitely bruise.

“I called the cops, Marcel.” Cami came to you with an ice pack.

Marcel then tried to escort Jason outside but Jason began to fight back. Falling back and into other people on the way out. When finally Marcel sucker punched him, knocking hims unconscious.

After the police took my statement and pictures of the already bruised arm, they arrested him and took him to county jail.

Marcel sits in the seat the officer was in, placing two cups of bourbon. “I called your friends, they should be here any minute. I’m so sorry that happened. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you. Really.” You smiled, chuckling after a moment of silence. “We just met and we had a crazy ex boyfriend situation before our first date!”

Marcel laughed with you. He smiled at you brightly, somehow making you smile just as big. You reach for his hand, holding it.

“I still expect yo take you out, no crazy ex drama will get in the way of our date.” Marcel said, earning a laugh from you.

Again I mean no harm with this imagine.

#marcel gerard #marcellus gerard #marcel gerard x reader #the originals #the originals x reader #the originals imagine #tvd universe

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hongism · 3 years

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Hello again Caly 👋🏻 It's been a while, I'm sorry. I’m the anon that messaged you about asking for advice/your opinion on something related to writing a while ago. 🥺 So basically my question would be: what's your stance on writing fan fiction for real people? Do you think it’s fine or kind of weird and why do you think so?

I’ve also written out my background/thoughts for context. You can totally skip that, I just thought it might make sense to explain where I’m coming from. I’m sorry in advance for the wall of text that will follow. I’m very bad at keeping it short. 😭

So, I used to be a writer. I started out with kpop fan fiction when I was around 14 (I’m 24 now), but I stopped writing for kpop groups when I was around 17. From then on I wrote fan fiction for fictional characters, mostly anime characters, but I stopped sometime last year. I still have a lot of unfinished ideas I want to write, a lot of them include fictional characters, but others include real people, like the Ateez members or another group’s members, and that's the problem. Let me explain a little further: After a very painful breakup in the second half of last year I got back into kpop. More than ever. While I was casually listening to a few groups before, I suddenly started getting into like 10 groups within a really short amount of time (got7, mx, dreamcatcher, everglow, skz, svt, oneus etc. just to name a few). It’s been great so far, because the music and the groups are kind of a safe haven to me (if that makes sense). I mean, Kpop really helps me cope and kind of escape or make reality a little easier, I'm sure there are more people out there who feel the way I do. I wouldn’t say I’m overly obsessed or anything, but Kpop just is my biggest source of comfort right now, so sometimes I wonder "isn’t this a bit much?“. It’s a difficult topic. But anyways, of course one of the groups I got into was Ateez, otherwise I probably wouldn't be here writing this right now. So I listened to fireworks when it came out and I was impressed and instantly fell in love with them. A little while after that, when I still couldn’t match all of their names with their faces, I started browsing the ao3 tag out of curiosity and I stumbled across moc. I absolutey fell in love with the story and every aspect of it. It also inspired me to write myself again! I've had so many old and new ideas flood my mind, but I really haven't gotten around to write anything yet, because the fact that I'd be writing fan fiction for real people as an adult woman makes me feel kind of uneasy? But I don’t want it to make me feel uneasy! You know? I think it should be fine as long as you’re capable of differentiating reality from fiction. And as an adult with common sense you usually can do that, right? But I’ve seen many people, mostly on tumblr and twitter, say that it’s just weird and wrong and that it automatically makes you a delusional and obsessive fan. So now I’m torn between wanting to realize all the ideas I have (Big thanks to you, because you, your blog and moc are a huge inspiration for me 💕 also moc is without a doubt the best fan fiction I’ve ever read. It’s just an absolutely impressive and thrilling story) and feeling like I’m not supposed or allowed to do that? I hope that makes sense. I know there’s a million other things I wanted to tell you, but I think that’s enough for now. If this is a discussion that interests you, I might comeback with my two cents. 😳 Anyways, I hope I was able to convey my inner conflict and my feelings and everything. 🥺 English isn’t my first language so it was a bit difficult to phrase everything in a way that felt right. Thank you so so much for taking the time to read and answer this. I appreciate it A LOT. I hope you have a great week ahead of you! 🥰🥰🥰

hello hun i'm sorry it took me so long to respond to your ask!! i wanted to make sure to set aside some time so i could be as thorough as possible in my response and give you my thoughts as clearly as possible!

so this debate has been something i've dealt with and struggled with a lot over the years of consuming fanfiction and creating it. i started out writing fanfiction of media like anime before getting into kpop, and it took me around 3 years to even start reading kpop fanfiction. every once in a while, the debate of whether or not real person fanfiction is okay or not comes up, and that does always discourage me. i wish i could be like 'yeah im solidly set in this opinion!' but i do still get discouraged myself, and that's something i think a lot of people struggle with! i resonate a lot with how you feel and what your opinions are and how much music and kpop means to you. i also get those worries of 'isn't this a bit much?' and such and it's a difficult thing to talk about and think about, but as you said, i think there is a line when it comes to fanfiction and life and reality

i have no issue with real person fanfiction. i tend to not read or write 'idol' aus because it feels a little too real for my comfort zone, but i will say that the people who dislike it are loud. they're hard to ignore and avoid. you aren't delusional or obsessive for enjoying fanfiction. it's called fan FICTION, meaning it's not real and it should not be meant to be real. it should be fine as long as you're able to draw the line and say 'this is not real and it will never be'. i think it's okay in some instances to be like 'man i wish i could live in this universe' while still realizing it's not real and you're not trying to force it down anyone's throats. that's the biggest thing in my mind. as long as you are not trying to shove it in these idols' faces or psychoanalyze them and their relationships, it's okay.

if someone doesn't like fanfiction, it's easy to just take a step back and say 'okay i won't talk about it/share it with you'. you can really cater your own experiences, decide what you want to see or don't want to see, but a lot of people complain about 'having' to see it. pretty much every single fanfic writer i've spoken to and encountered says they NEVER want someone to send a fanfic to an idol/the person who is in it, which is good and i think the best course of action when it comes to fanfic.

all in all, fanfic exists, it's out there, and it's FICTION. it's not real, it's not meant to be shoved in other people's faces, it's not meant to be shared with the idols who are characters in it, and most often the idols are 'place-holders' for characters. what i mean by that is they are a common place for a lot of people, something recognizable and enjoyable, but the personalities and way they're written will always differ across the board. you could think of it almost as a canvas, a person you like being a canvas for you to paint your words and stories on. writing fanfiction about kpop does not make you any less or more of a fan, it doesn't mean you don't respect and care about these idols as human beings and people, and the biggest thing to worry about is simply understanding and respecting your boundaries as a fan by not sharing it/shoving it in the idols' face.

i hope this all makes sense and isn't coming off the wrong way? but i also hope it helps you feel better and understand how i feel!! you say english isn't your first language, but i would NEVER have guessed, your english is absolutely perfect and understandable <3 thank you so much for trusting me and talking to me about this, i'm very grateful and thankful for it and your sweet words about my works 🥺💕

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contrabandhothead · 4 years

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Oh could I get a ship? I’m bi a girl, My style is really influenced by 70s-80s, with a pastel twist and I love dyeing my hair. Im an INFJ and the definition of hufflepuff I’m an avid reader and learning things, even random information, is a hobby of mine. I get very passionate about my interests and could talk about them for a long time lol. I’m studying psych and anthropology to focus on animal behavior at college rn. I like skinship and being able to touch my loved ones. Thank you!!

Joe Liebgott

general

ok sis hear me out- JUST LISTEN

the opposites attract trope that i love is really showing right now, i know

i personally see Joe as someone who also loves skinship, i just think he’s more closed off about it

he always wants to be touching you in some way, but he’ll only do more than hand holding or waist-grabbing if you ask him to

so cuddles are ON THE TABLE if you know what i mean

he gets super flustered if you do anything more than kiss him in public, so you could definitely use that to your advantage

ok side note but i literally love INFJs even though they’re so rare... I’m an ENFJ myself, and every INFJ i’ve ever met is just the MOST PRECIOUS HUMAN-

since most INFJs do well in relationships where they share core values with their partner, i see you as someone that Joe would love because you’re supportive

he also enjoys that you understand his feelings without him having to tell you, he’s not very open all the time and tends to wallow in his angst

Joe can be incredibly honest, which is nice most of the time, but he can be brutal with it sometimes

this brutal honesty can be the root of a lot of arguments, but not every moment of a relationship is sunshine and daisies

Joe loves your style!!! he’ll always help you dye your hair

he’s more of an 80s grunge guy, so your styles contrast a bit because of your love for pastels

Joe appreciates your hufflepuff loyalty, especially since he can get a bit insecure

he knows that he’s difficult to be in a relationship with, so he enjoys that sense of extra security he gets with knowing how loyal you are

Joe thinks it’s cute that you enjoy learning so many random things, he just listens to all of your random facts with a smile on his face while you two eat dinner

Joe rants all the times about random things that you don’t understand either, so I don’t think he’d mind if you did the same (he probably thinks it’s oddly charming)

Joe buys you lots of books, especially the ones he hears you talk about wanting to read

Joe likes to spoil his s/o, so if your eyes so much as linger on anything in the window of a store, he’ll buy it for you immediately

the man is practically 3 seconds away from just giving you his entire bank account

Joe supports all of your interest, especially your educational studies... he might not really be interested in college himself, but he’ll always be willing to help you study for finals

just don’t try to psychoanalyze him, he doesn’t want to know why he is the way he is (it makes him uncomfortable just don’t do it)

how you two met

you and Joe met after the war, when Joe moved back to San Fransico

you were a few years younger than Joe, and you were attending college in San Fran for psych and anthropology

Joe was working as a cab driver when you met him

it was a sweltering day, the air thick with moisture

you had woken up late for class, and to make it worse, your car broke down

you had already missed the train, and there was no way you’d make it to class on time if you waited for the next train

so you only had one option

take an overpriced cab to campus

and boy, were you really not looking forward to spending that much money on a cab

but it must be done

flagging down the nearest taxi, you quickly dove into the backseat

gripping the driver’s seat, you leaned forwards so the driver could hear you

“Please, can you take me to the local college as fast as possible? My god, i’m running so late! I’ll even tip extra, just please get me there before 8:30!”

the driver whipped around, damn near hitting you with his own head

“Are you crazy? It’s 8:25! It takes 10 minutes to get there, I’d have to run every red light just to make it on time!”

you stared at the pale, thin man... he had nice hair- NO, FOCUS!!!

you put on your best puppy dog eyes, clasping your hands together as you stared at him “Please????”

the driver sighed, whipping around to face the road as he took the car out of park

“Fine... but you better tip me extra!”

oh my, this man was an insane driver. you swore you nearly died at least twice on the way there... but it was 8:28, you had 2 minutes to get to class!

quickly writing down your address and number, you slapped the scrap of paper on top of the wad of cash you handed to the driver.

rushing out of the car, you called back “write me sometime!”

the driver just grinned, shaking his head at your antics

I’m so sorry this took so long! Regardless, I hope you enjoyed this. Have a fantastic week! 💕

~ Ky

#joe liebgott #band of brothers #band of brothers ships #joe liebgott headcanons

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alukaforyou · 4 years

Text

and ALSO sry to post bs on main im mostly just talking to myself in my personal tag half the time so yolo, no need to respond to this or reassure me or whatever but these days i licherally question how much of my - sry to sound like a broken record - bs is dépression or just my shité mentality, like i rly was not designed to last, huh? physically or mentally? lol. like who gets motion sickness on swings lmao anyways. i think i give up too easily. theres a bunch of reasons y but i dont feel like saying. its a different thing to kind of kno something, and to admit / speak it (confront it). i could psychoanalyze myself all day and tell u exactly why some things are the way they are but its too unpleasant to neatly state stuff like that u kno?? like... *i kno* but im not gonna say i kno. anywho, i digress. so i give up easily and kind of have a defeatist mentality too, its so exhausting lool. actually its weird cuz duality of man, i'll be rly determined / stubborn abt doing some stuff and not care abt fear of failure with certain things but when it comes to My Life / My Future i just think i cant rly do anything? i mean that literally like i got no skillz *laugh crying emoji* not particularly good at anything, and art - the only thing im maybe arguably ok at - i dont wanna do as a career, that is art therapy for me i dont feel like commercializing it. not interested in working in my major, maybe things wouldve been different if i went to culinary or cosmetology school?? that sounds fun. or if i majored in bio cuz i was so good at that, or even if i majored in japanese language or literature or idk. but no regrets tho cuz i learned a lot abt drawing in art school which i can use for myself. and hmm i like staying home and not rly going out of my way to meet new ppl so connections what? i h8 hearing how most opportunities come through the ppl u kno cuz its true and ik like 10 ppl tops so hm very sexi of me :^) i just feel like im p much f*cked and it rly doesnt help that i have no functional dreams, goals, or aspirations nor the confidence and drive to work towards anything so ah ok cool. u kno suga's songs "the last" and "so far away" ? that p much sums up my feels minus the part abt having to deal w fame obviously LOL. its so easy being a student (for me at least) but being a good student isnt really worth a whole lot in the """""real world""""" and the current education system doesnt even rly prepare u for reality or w.e like Deep Sigh also the political climate rly lookin like shité out there like hmmmmm do i even wanna try so hard to be here anymore tho??? also going back to the self confidence thing, ya idk her LOOOOL like it doesnt very much bother me tho? i really, honest to god have no idea what my redeeming qualities even are. being nice? and my mindset re - tolerance and compassion for others, etc, ya im rly proud of that actually but besides that i mean like what can i Do tho like hm im not particularly good at anything also im hideous like uglee but thats ok too like none of this Bothers me, thats just literally how i Am so ok fine, but i feel like it makes it hard for me to exist in the world i happen to be in??? and i realize im speaking with a huge bias here cuz my brain is totally out of whack im p sure if some1 saw me / read this they would lit be like um u literally do not have it hard girl, which is fair ur kinda right actually from an objective pov, probably? its amazing how um. hard? of a time my brain is having given my relatively ok circumstances but thats just how it is ig. and if i may quote shakespeare - o full of scorpions is my mind. and its weird cuz duality of man - i actually have a lot of good times w friends and whatever i have a lot of fun, im not even very Sad or in Agony its all very a mild? sensation? but that might be because my plan b is to simply *** so nothing rly fazes me anymore lool.

its usually a v confusing emotion, im either feeling happy, or if not that, very ???? im literally that duwang quote get a feeling so complicated its just "ajdjsjsja" idk its not overly repulsive and upsetting im like :s LOL u kno wat at this point idek what im even saying anymore but its good that im writing whatever cuz im gonna need to look back on this later and organize my thoughts for presentation cuz remember i have a s.o now???? i wanna let them kno so we r on the same page, and i dont feel like im tricking them, i thought it over more and there are like 4? major cards i wanna lay out on the table early on and they are 1. im not that close w my family emotionally so do not seek their approval or expect to deal with them much. 2. personal ideology / political views like im bi lmao and pro lgbt if that wasnt obvious also i dont rly wanna be around racists / terfs etc and if ur right wing or not on that respect women juice uhhh bye.. 3. my weak ass mentality how i might Maybe *** in the future like no promise but errrr theres one more but its a little more negotiable and also too early to discuss so i wont mention it but i already got the first two outta the way so ya. theres the most troublesome of all, #3. the last thing i wanna do is traumatize someone that loves me (and i love back) with that kinda thing, its too late for my dear friends whom i love, sorry i didnt kno i was gonna be like this LOL yall already got attached but its a little different with my s.o cuz i feel like its not too late to uh.... stop getting as attached LMAO like dam i've known my girls for almost 10 years whereas i've only known my s.o for like a month.

and this is totally not gonna come across right but if my s.o very understandably desides to dump me id be SO RELIEVED LIKE WOOOO ok cool cuz like essentially what i'd be saying is you are getting attached to someone who's future is not as stable as other people, including u. *huge exhale* from the bottom of my heart, my bad lol. and then i probs wont ever get involved w. a s.o again, sorry to reference snk in 2020 but remember how e*win smith is single cuz he doesnt kno when he will ***? big mood. i have never acted out on my interests before but i was like ok for once lets go off the shits and do smth ooc, i uh... didnt expect for it to actually go anywhere tho so now im like ???? i shouldve thought it through more tho, like i felt low key irresponsible af and selfish and dumb for getting involved w. someone even tho i Know how I Am like...... Also i just lov being single and staying home and chilling alone lmao like i seriously...... never get loney....

ok so what was i talking abt? how the passage of time makes me nervous cuz idk how i can manage to keep up w it??? how i feel like i cant do jack shit???? that life is hard???? and maybe a bih just wants to rest? permanently?????? i think the most irritating part of all for me, like what i am most mad about at myself is that i have no dream. yikes. naruto, do u think thats sad? well yoongi said its okay, and what counts is just being happy, so i will console myself and forgive her and idk just try my best for the time being??

#.txt

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tempestshakes01 · 5 years

Text

happy and anxious.

happy because i love my apartment and i love Lil Cup of Joe. he is a terror and the sweetest boy ever, and i feel so much love for him. this is why i can’t be around an animal for an extended period of time. i will die for any creature i get attached to and lil joe is now my baby.

but i am anxious because i put of working when my brother brought home a puppy. he didn’t ask me to, but he’s an idiot who’s never home and bought a puppy to make him come home. i gave him 3 days and when his habits didn’t change, joe was being left alone and untrained, and i needed a running buddy--well, i took over. joe’s now potty-trained and knows a few (one) command. i take him everywhere to socialize him. he’s mine. but i’ll never say that to nick. who still needs to go therapy. i don’t know him. i don’t know what goes on in that head of his. it’s like we switched personalities in our 20s. i went from the quiet, serious type to basically a manic 13 yr old boy. he went from a wildly charismatic clown to a brooding hipster. what makes him laugh? what is he thinking? what is he passionate about? how does he talk to other ppl for hours but he can barely speak to his family for more than half of one? what did we do?

i got really angry the other night thinking about the fights i’ve had with my parents this past year.

1) washington d.c. - mom and i got into to it in front of the fuckin white house at dusk. i was so emotional and upset at being there, right there where trump fucks over our country, and my mom was being...well, the woman fox news molded. i was furious and trying to keep it nice, so i asked if we could just stop. stop talking. i was gonna blow up. and my mom was like, “why do we stop when you say stop, but when i ask to stop, you continue?” which...is it true? i didn’t think so, and because i can’t keep my mouth shut, i argued until i walked away. i walked into the crowds and then i kept walking. i kept walking. i kept walking.

it was terrible. i texted her “i’m gone” and i left.

i forgot the details but i wandered that area of d.c. got a coffee. tried not to cry. and then...remembered how much trouble my mom’s phone was giving her, that her gps apps weren’t being accurate, that she wasn’t confident at the metro, and that it was now dark. that she was alone in an unfamiliar city with a camera bag strapped to her screaming “i’m a tourist!”

i felt like utter and complete shit. it was one of the most despicable things i’ve ever done. later, i told some people and they were like “she’s a grown woman! you were both upset!” but no. i can’t make excuses like that. i knew that my mom was scared. i burst into tears. a crazy sobbing girl in the middle of d.c. i immediately texted her and told her to get back to me when she got to the hotel.

an hour later, back at the hotel, my mom couldn’t even look at me. couldn’t speak to me. i knew i had to apologize and i did, wording it carefully because i walking on a minefield. i again blocked out most of the conversation, but it quickly dissolved into a mess of confessions. i was wrecked. at first because of what happened, but as our conversation turned into an argument, i became furious again. over how she interpreted some of our interactions. over how i “blamed” her for my anxiety and anger. i told her i got my anger from her. that i was slow to it like my father, but when something lit inside me it burned bright and hot and deadly like her. that her grudges and cold shoulders hurt me so, so badly when i was a kid (which she then explained wasn’t a grudge, just her processing her anger...but that was way, way into the night). oh god, it was so bad. so bad. she confessed how she felt about all us kids. told me about her problems with andi and nick. told me she wanted to move away from us. told me she didn’t want a relationship with me or them if it was going to be like this.

i didn’t sleep. just cried and cried. like i did when i was a kid. sobbed in the bathroom and then under my covers. we barely talked the next day, but it slowly became okay. i didn’t know how to explain how much i loved her, so i tried to show her.

in the end, we were ok enough.

2) driving 30 hrs across the country - my dad and i were talking and he told me how he didn’t get us, and that we were hurting mom by rejecting her or something. he was upset and my dad doesn’t get upset, so i got upset and moody. and he was like “why are you like this? just with me? just with us. you’re so cruel.” and i knew it was true but it still took me an hour to snap out of it. and i apologized.

but i feel sometimes angry bc i got the emo dump from both my parents. about both my siblings! and they don’t even talk to them about it! my parents don’t even touch nick anymore! they leave him alone because it’s easier that way and he wouldn’t listen even if they tried to talk to him! and my sister would get super huffy and feel judged and act out in some way and take the kids! so. i get it but i hate it!!! because i got the feelings dump! i got the tears and the hours of psychoanalyzing why we are the way we are! and i hate that i feel burdened by it sometimes?

i want to be there for my parents but sometimes i’m that petulant child that still wants a mommy and daddy, not two parents who are human and exist with their own emotional life. and that’s so unfair to them and wrong of me, but i feel that way because i’m the child that gets this brunt of this side of them.

but it’s because in my own way im the most difficult and this shit spills out when i push them.

my parents (mostly mom) are only getting more set in their ways and defensive of their opinions. my mom...my mom who taught me so much about art and the world and appreciating different cultures and music and lived life with such vigor and wonder...i can see that fading and hardening. she’s stubborn about what she like and doesn’t have much interest in anything new. she’s offended and hurt when i gently bring up her how she used to be.

my dad’s always been this way. very traditional, but kind. spoiled, but hardworking. likes what he likes. but he’s eating more greens. he’ll try what i make because i made it. we listened to latino usa and old radio lab podcasts that whole drive from wa to tx, and he loved it, and we discussed the episodes. and i loved him so much because he gave them a shot and we connected.

but my mom. my mom. i miss her and she’s right there, but she’s not. and i know i’m part of the reason she’s retreated into herself and her more ‘sturdy’ beliefs and the friends who share them. she’s so quick to judge and harsh about it these days. is it age? is it us? is it this horrible world?

i came home to this. i came home and how quickly people change bc i didn’t expect my mom to be so old. in spirit. she’s tired. she doesn’t trust me. we’re working on being gentle. i’m working on not being so quick to anger.

my dad and i...i’m thrilled we’re getting along so well after i treated him like shit during the ~separation years~ between my parents. i was awful to him and he knew why, but he never called me out on it.

my sis and i are fine. i’m so relieved she got out of that last relationship with that TERRIBLE PERSON and came to her senses, and somewhat grew up. we kick it. she cooks for me. we don’t completely jive cause she’s hood, but can code-switch between worlds, and i’m suburban through and through, so i’m not as cool or smooth as she is. i’m her dorky weird little sister and i appreciate her love for me.

my brother? a mystery. a complete mystery.

and i’m reminded of how he called me on my birthday and started weeping and asking about therapy and saying he’s sorry he never believed in my anxiety because it’s true--you don’t ask for, you don’t know why it appears, and it wrecks you. and he deals with it now for no discernible reason and he sounded so, so broken over the phone that i was shaking and crying when we hung up.

but now he’s as chill as ever and takes minimal care of his puppy because the 1st dog he got was pretty hands-off from the jump, but she was grown and pooed and peeded everywhere for months (he says no, but that’s selective memory), so now lil joe is mine and i need to get a job because the lack of structure is killlllllllllllllingggggg me. but i don’t want to leave lil joe :(

it’s funny how i never set out to write all this shit, but it comes spilling out.

huh. wait.

i left and i worked on myself but then i missed my family.

did i come back to work on the family? to work on my relationship with them? is that my purpose here and why i felt compelled to return?

went climbing with GA. i was totally afraid of falling and bouldering isn’t as fun to me as top rope, but i wanna keep at it.

trying to set something up with B and A. my buds. i love em.

gotta set something up with L because I have a feeling we’ll be good friends here. and weirdly, BG contacted me even though I haven’t talked to him since college? and even then we weren’t that close. he was just inching toward asking me out and never managed it.

fav emmy looks: zendaya (obviously. omg, whatta babe), maisie williams (whatta look, suits her perfectly, killed it), gwen christie (whatta jesus babe), that girl in the billowing mint green dress, anddddd clea duvall (a babe in a tux).

vm continue to make me sad and hopefully things go well with tour for them. it’s nice to see them getting along with charlie and tanith. with bby charlie and tati and max’s kid coming along...oh boy for scott’s emotions. he’s gonna ignore the HELL out of those sad feeling for what couldvebeen with tess and he’s gonna plan hard for his and j’s future offspring instead. (can i also predict that i think one thing scott’s gonna have trouble with in his marriage--oddly enough--is keeping the marriage a partnership and not bulldozing over his spouse with his wants and needs ...wait, that’s not odd lol)

anyway, gotta take joe out to pee. gotta get to bed soon because i wanna be on the trails by 7am and then maybe to the climbing gym. this face maybe a potato but my body can improve! (i’m thicc at the moment thanks to texas food 🤧)

#miranda this is your life

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redafi · 2 years

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Sometimes i am overly aware of the fact that i have severe trust issues and absolutely no reason for them

like…. Why is it so important to me that my… friends(?) don’t know any of my fandoms beyond the most pg but also age appropriate ones

several of them are into mha, so ill send stuff from that fandom for example, but i panic sending anything from a fandom i know none of them know….

give me a minute while i begin to psychoanalyze myself lol, i havent really slept properly in a while so the mental issues are hitting harder than usual:

(hey this could possibly trigger you if you aren’t on good terms w your parents or any other authority figures. Be careful okay?)

theres just a part of me thats terrified that if my friends(?) know, information on my fandoms will somehow get back to my parents… and my understanding of my parents opinions tends to be shaky at best

in the past, ive gotten the following information (i dont agree with it, to be clear):

- lbgtq+ ppl *apparently* do not need even as much representation as theyre getting, and it apparently doesn’t make sense to support people who do show that representation because it doesn’t tend to be good representation. This came up in a conversation about shipping because both my sibling and i tend to lean towards more common ships…. Which tend to be lbgtq+

- got yelled at for shipping and for reading fanfiction, but they didn’t do anything ab it? Just showed a lot of disapproval

- it is heavily implied that if i read so much as characters kissing in a spicy way, there is no more fanfiction. Luckily for me ive been building up my appearance as someone who hates even the mention of kissing since i was about 6! I really hated the comments about how id get over it when im older so even before i learned fanfics exist, i had decided not to even think of dating until college out of spite.

- I used to get a lot of info on my dad’s opinions during long drives, and learned a lot ab our apparent family drama that absolutely should not have been told to me but was very useful. One of these conversations was my dad saying smth along the lines of how he thinks(thought) bi ppl dont exist. However ab a year later, he no longer says gross when men kiss on screen and apparently his first relationship was w a guy so… internalized biphobia/homophobia?

- my sibling is nb. After they came out, my parents barely acknowledged their pronouns, there was an implied threat when i was told not to correct them, my dad has outright said that they will not be changing what name they use for my sibling. This was around the start of quarantine and being trapped in that situation has completely killed any backbone i had: i reverted to 3rd grade mode lol

(3rd grade mode, blame the teacher my parents did not influence this but:

- disagreements are dangerous, if you need to disagree try to redirect by questioning jokingly with an *extremely* gentle voice

- getting angry can’t happen. Talking people down is the first priority in the case of a disagreement, not defending yourself.

- if it can’t be safely overheard it can’t be said

- basically i stopped feeling anywhere is safe lol…. my parents would never hurt me to be clear im just paranoid when it comes to possible rejection)

wait i got off track but i needed to talk a bit about that, sorry!

Anyways! The opinions of my parents towards lbgtq+ stuff, which is what most of my interactions within fandoms are based on, are hard to figure out. I also can’t risk them looking into fandoms like mdzs and thinking ive been getting into non-pg stuff lol, the chances of my coping methods being taken away are too high.

because of this im quite paranoid ab who in my life has info about my interests: aka my sibling is the only person who has up to half of my list of fandoms, because they honestly dont care and will keep my secrets bc i keep theirs.

this leads to none of the people who are sort-of-friends with me knowing practically anything about me, which does make me sad sometimes

im lonely ):

also im very touch-starved but hate being touched by ppl i dont trust, and theres not really anyone i trust around me? So uh… i could really use a hug lol

#I want a hug #im not feeling too great rn #Sorry!#be careful if shaky relationships (at best) w parents trigger you #It feels awkward to tag a vent #but that is what it is #So #vent #sorry about this

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torrakat · 5 years

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i am psychoanalyzing the hell out of myself tonight.... like i have no productive hobbies because in high school i felt i couldnt join any after school clubs because i had to pick up my sister every day and since she was always the “artistic one” and i was the “smart academic one” i never thought i could try to be artistic so now im being held back from trying new things

also i literally dont know what i look like. like i avoid looking at my face in mirrors because its so ugly and years of acne make me overthink any blemish i have. also i hate my body so much like the weight ive gained in the last year and i want to work out but i cant because im too depressed so i just keep getting uglier and more depressed over my looks.

also it took me ages to realize/accept i actually am depressed because when i was younger it manifested as dark shitty thoughts any time i was alone but that hasnt been happening (probably because i keep myself distracted so thy dont have the chance to appear)

and the reason i cant do well in school anymore is because i have nobody else motivating me to do well like in high school i had the threats of my parents and also peer pressure to do homework because people would ask how you did or notice you dont turn stuff in but with all this online work i dont have the threat of people physically seeing i didnt turn things in and i have no friends to work with so thats no pressure and my parents dont get notifs when i do bad/dont turn things in so theres nothing. besides my scholarship of course but thats incorporeal and my professors dont give grades so i can convince myself im doing better than i actually am.

idk how to actually make friends tho because theres no organization im really interested in like even gaming club im leery of because gamers fucking suck and its a sausage party in there. and my social skills are shit like i literally dont know how to talk to people i dont already have a rapport with and it stresses me out trying to meet new people and even if we become friends in class it never ends up extending beyond that because im too scared to make plans because they probably dont see me as that good of a friend or ill come off as desperate since i have zero fucking friends

part of me still wants to drop out like nobody would actually miss me. i have exactly 2.5 friends and they barely exist considering 1.5 of them are my roommate and her girlfriend who i maybe see twice a month and the other is a girl from a class that im gonna have to take again probably. maybe she flunked too lmao we can be failures together but im not gonna hold my breath. its just a matter of time before everybody realizes im a fuckup thats stupid as hell. i cannot comprehend the fact that i was a straight A ib student and graduated at the top of my class like who was that bitch idk her. im a shell of a person and ive become the annoying one dimensional sort of person i always hated because i do nothing and contribute nothing to conversations and people probably think im boring as hell and now im a failure too. yay

#grimtxt #god this is long dont bother reading #i know im gonna hate it when i come back to reread this

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somedaypast-thesunset · 7 years

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so i went to this therapy session. it consiisted of this woman asking me what i thought my issues were and going through a list of “important life factors” before she readily prescribed CBT. and like.. ive learned to play the game with these people; if you influence them by giving too much or focusing on the wrong thing, they can suggest stupid things. so i gave her very concise and bare bones answers.

unlike my family doctor, she had little focus on the traumas. she said the traumas must have created behaviors that needed to be examined. i mean, yeah. science? and like, i’ve learned to handle my anxiety atleast 30 - 40% better than say, last year. by using things similar to CBT techniques, like examining all possible outcomes and taking time to examine my anxieties rather than react on them. this has allowed me certain control over a lot of previusly panic inducing situations. but now im plateaued because the anxiety is not so much an issue -- i don’t care. i used to care alot more before. like i wanted to be seen as a good person and i went out of my way to be a good person and put myself and needs aside for it. but now i dont care? i find i have even less anxiety going out and meeting new people because i dont care? the apathy is overwhelming.

CBT doesnt fix apathy. and i dnt know if anything fixes apathy.

heres what i do KNOW from this year of self improvement: the only thing that has made me feel remotely better and that has made sound logical sense since it came to be acknowledged is really standard old school talk therapy. in no fucking way can cure anxiety about being alone or having no family by “positive affirmations”. you can try and see some positives in but if you try to fool yourself so far that youre “totally okay” with no one, there will always be one day that comes when you regret “totally okay”.

but absolutely no one cares about examining the known. no one cares why or how the family dynamic works except people literally studying it. all anyone knows is that by default, you’re handed a group of people who share similar dna to you and whatever happens after that is up to fate and chance. more often than not people have SOME kind of family. even those who say they dont “really” have family have some cousin or distance aunt or someone they manage to stay in close contact with.

heres what i also know: he is “right” about one thing - the people we know, including himself, were shaped and influenced by a community; there’s half a million strong here but yet if you’re in our age group and you’re white you can probably play six degrees of seperation. and a lot of people turned to drugs, a lot of people came from bad homes, a lot of people have untreated mental illnesses -- and these are the people i am turning to for support. because i have no real choice right now. it’s literally trying to survive and you cannot pick and choose in survival. you take whatever you can get wherever you can get it. and thats not even to say these are bad people. clearly if they offer any support at all they are good people in their hearts. no matter what issue they have, they’re decent people.

but in no fucking way what so ever are they equipped to support another person emotionally or even leave their own foundations of support because i mean, who does that? logically?

i went through all of this stuff. and like i’m nt trying to have a pissing contest of whos life was worse? my own parents lives were worse than mine. a close friend of mine - definitely way worse than mine. this could totally be worse but what difference does that make? you cut off a finger and you’re like “well didnt lose the hand” but youre still living with no finger. you still have to cope and deal with n finger every second of the day despite how much worse it “could” be.

to me my power and release and way i feel good is not through meditation or yoga or taking a walk - it’s being heard. i want to be heard. i lived in silence an was sheltered for a long time and i didnt get to speak on a lot of things that legitimately shaped the way i lived my life. and like i’m not asking for these things to be analyzed. theyre not here for like a game of psychology. this is my life. this is what i lived and i want to speak about it. i want to be able to speak for ten minutes straight on what happened to me and how i feel. and secondly i want to be understood. like im not speaking a different language. there is no hidden meaning i am just telling a story i want to have understood by the listener. when you read a book, you dont stop thrugh a paragraph and be like “oh i remember the time my mom did this and this” and go off into a new tangent for yourself. you give it focus and attention to understand the nuances of this person’s perspective.

and my doctor gave me the freedom to speak to him at anytime. i can literally go and be like i am upset and here is why and he will just listen to me. because my problem is not about me. my problem is the things that happened to me. CBT literally tells you that statements like “i am a victim to outside circumstances” is “harmful”. but i am? like i’m not saying this t promote an internal victimization but that outside circumstances happened to which i had little to no control over anything BUT my own reaction.

and the thing is - no one at all will ever fix what happened. very bad things happened. this is without a doubt now, bad things happened. almost all of the time. and people cannot even fathom such trauma without bringing up sexual abuse or physical abuse because it more often manifests those ways but this was a unique circumstance of very different factors - none of which are special in the world but just a timeline that by using all of these factors created a very jarring and traumatic time.

so you cannot give me medication. im not sick. im experiencing a natural reaction to long term trauma. like.. the brain is damaged now but who is to say filling it with synthetic chemicals to “fix” or cover the damage is any better? what happens when youre no longer on them?

you cant tell me to meditate on it; sit silently and dont think about it? cruel. how o you think i made it this far? i deserve to talk about these things, outloud, without judgement. i dont even need a group. in fact right now i deserve one single human to give me the respect and time. because literally? sometimes i need like.. one hour in a month. just one hour in 30 days to speak out loud everything that haunted me that month and have it acknowledged in reality without personal opinion inserted.

i explained to him why i didnt like cbt and why i felt like i wanted to be left alone now; like i was tired of being psychoanalyzed, i knew what my problem was, i knew what i wanted in life. he immediately brought up how i should be seeing a psychologist or psychiatrist instead and that i just needed to have that. i realize now that hes put alot of weight on a psychologist or w.e. solving my issues and “giving me coping techniques” and by me saying i wanted to be left alone triggered anger, like he assumed i was “giving up”? still, it went into an argument which led to him saying things like i needed to have a job to deserve a family which is very hateful and emotionally abusive thing to say. i walked away when we got to his place and then went to a friends for an hour or so before he picked me up. he commented on the way back, “just for the record, i’m just too real for people.” -- but ive started not to care. i told him he wasnt real, he was mentally ill and projected a lot of things on to people around him when he was a textbook example of toxic thinking. i said he should get therapy, but he wont because it takes work and it might mean he wont be great anymore but i still loved him regardless.

he sat quiet for a bit and when we got back to his place he made a casual remark asking if we had talked about him. i said sure and he asked what was said. i told him the only thing im ever told about him is to not listen to him because hes crazy. he laughed a bit and asked how and why and who. i doubled down and said even my doctor has told me to not listen to him because what he says is harmful and misunderstood. he got very quiet and then seemed to be upset the rest of the night. i couldnt understand entirely why though? did he feel bad about it? did he think i was wrong? did he have shame people held this opinion or was he angry they knew about him at all?

he was still a bit upset this morning but seemed to try and at least fake it? he told me he loved me when i left but it just seemed weird. i feel like he feels bad? like maybe he realized he was causing damage but now couldnt take it back? i certainly dont think he’d tell me he loved me if he was angry.

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