#I feel like social media just brings out the worst of the tantrums

[a-space-for-mimi]

"The one who states his case first seems right, until the other comes and examines him." - Proverbs 18:17 ESV

[anincompletelist]

rwrb fic recs! :D

I wanted to take the time to compile a few fics that have massively helped me over the last tough few months and never fail to bring a smile to my face (after the angst, of course)! thank you to everyone who takes the time to write for this lovely fandom, please keep it up! your words are so important and often change lives even when you don't realize it. I hope you're all doing well, and enjoy! <3

(please message me if for any reason you would like to be un-tagged!)

in no particular order:

he looks up grinning like the devil | @coffeecatsme | E | 38k

Henry can’t help it—he lets out a laugh and shakes his head. Beta Sigma Chi being a safe space is about as likely as the Republicans championing queer rights. “Right, and who’s this new president that somehow managed to turn around an entire fraternity?”

Pez winces. She hesitates at first, but then she must decide on something because her chin juts out. “Well,” she says slowly. “It’s Alexander Claremont-Diaz.”

Henry laughs so hard he almost falls off his seat.

Or, Henry Fox learns to fall in love with everything that is Alexander Claremont-Diaz, even if he insists on calling Henry "dude".

--

A Sporting Chance | @clottedcreamfudge | E | 126k

"Marry Henry - destination wedding. Combine all of our names so paperwork is a fucking nightmare." Henry stares at him and Pez rolls the dice, and-

"Congratulations to Alex and Henry Claremont-Diaz-Fox-Mountchristen," he says with a bright grin, and Alex punches the air and makes a 'whooping' noise. "Your wedding is attended by the Beckhams, the President, and several key members of congress. Henry is very gentle on your wedding night." Henry is going to fucking kill Pez.   "Fucking sweet," Alex says, because Henry is apparently the only one here trying not to have a coronary about all of this.

***

It had just been a party game, except now Henry is in way over his head.

--

a degree of fate | (locked) | lockedinmybody | E | 34k

Against the wishes of the palace, Henry decides to go back to university for a graduate's degree in Literature. And when you want to lay low, what's a better place than Austin University? It's not Henry's fault that Alex Claremont-Diaz is also there. Something must be his fault though, because despite having never met before and Henry only knowing him as the son of the Former President of America, Alex Claremont-Diaz clearly hates him. It's going to be a long two years.

--

the poem you make of me | @omgcmere | E | 91k

After being discovered on Instagram as a teenager, Alex Diaz is thriving as a social media influencer and model who just landed a high profile, high fashion contract with Calvin Klein. Alex can get any girl he wants, and he’s loving it. Meanwhile, British poet Henry Fox has just arrived in L.A. to kick off a North American tour promoting his new, steamy book of gay erotic poetry, and he’s attracting a lot of attention.

Bad blood is immediately sparked between them when Henry blows Alex off at their first meeting. Several tabloid rumors and an Instagram tantrum later, Alex and Henry are reluctantly thrust together to make nice, resulting in a grudging friendship and a magnetism between them that Alex can't explain. Why is Henry's poetry making Alex feel like this? And just what is it about Henry Fox that gets to him so much?

--

Mr. BodyPillow | @inexplicablymine | T+ | 21k

Two boys cuddling on a couch right on top of each other because they are in fact very gay™.

Inviting over a complete stranger for cuddles because you are touch starved might be the worst idea Henry has ever had, or the best.

--

More Amour | surveycorpsjean | E | 45k

Alex discovers something in Henry's closet that changes everything.

--

we've been here forever (here's the frozen proof) | @onward--upward | T+ | 12k

Objectively, I am aware that you – a stranger – cannot tell me my own sexuality any better than I can, however... Can you, please? Tell me? It’s 4am and I have been thinking about this for hours, and I can’t sleep.

Warmest regards, ACD *** It’s four in the morning, and Alex Claremont-Diaz has managed to follow a research spiral straight down into a personal crisis. It isn’t the first time.

--

Oblivion | milowren | NR | 31k | please CHECK TAGS & NOTES prior to reading!

What if the moment in the hospital wasn’t a false alarm and the publicity surrounding the forced bromance between Alex and Henry had the adverse effect of them being kidnapped together?

--

But I love him, whether or no. | @leaves-of-laurelin | E | 77k

Henry moves to New York City to help Pez with the opening of his new bar in the East Village. The location—fortunately for business, but unfortunately for Henry’s sanity—is directly across the street from a fire station. The sound of sirens is bad, Alex the gorgeous firefighter is worse. But when Alex helps Henry avoid a near catastrophe the night of the bar’s opening, the two form a tentative friendship that starts to develop into something more.

--

we might just get away with it | (locked) | smc_27 | E | 21k

Alex is a model. Henry is a journalist, and a bit of an asshole. Alex wants him anyway, even when it doesn’t feel good.

--

Hashtag Soulmates | @everwitch-magiks | E | 44k

Alex is perfect and handsome, the golden boy, everybody’s secret crush. So there is absolutely no way that he is the reader who screeches in caps lock every time that Henry posts as much as a drabble. There’s no way. Except Alex just closed his browser fast as fucking lightning, but not before Henry had gotten a good glimpse of the page Alex had open: AO3. ‘Don't Stop Me Now’, Henry’s current wip. The one that Henry literally just updated.

Sweet Jesus. Could it really be?

--

the rubble or our sins | weather_stained | E | 14k

As the Emperor's grandson, Henry despises the gladiator games and resents being forced to attend them — that is, until he sees Alexander fight. 

It's a romance doomed from the very beginning, as Henry's family is already pressuring him into joining the army and finding a wife, but he falls hard for Alex nonetheless. Will Henry find a way to be with him, or will he spend the rest of his life looking back on their time together?

--

that's all for now! I'd like to do this again very soon since there are so many new fics being posted that deserve love as well.

please let me know if there are any issues with the links, if you'd like to be un-tagged, or if you'd like to come and scream about these with me!

another good place for recs is @rwrbficrecs !

if you enjoy any of these (or any fic at all) please know - as someone who writes them as well - every single comment and kudos goes such a long way. it's not necessary, but it's always so much appreciated. <3

thank you for reading, and I hope everyone is having a lovely day/night! :D

-- anincompletelist / sarah

[decepti-thots]

I was in the tumblr tf fandom for a hot second a few years ago and i just wanted to ask, is it still really aggressive here? because back then there was a lot of shipping drama, there were a few callout posts going around (can't really remember about what) and just...a lot of bad stuff. I personally had someone tell me to kill myself because I liked one of the villains. guess I'm just wondering if, in your opinion, things have chilled out? Cuz I'd like to get back into it but I'm a little hesitant;;;

I'm going to try and give the fullest answer I can in the best faith to this! For context, this blog is a couple years old now, I have enough followers that I get a lot of active engagement on my posts etc, I am very active in TF fandom here, Twitter, and IRL, and while I did not used to be active I have been lurking in TF fandom as long as I have been on Tumblr.

There is absolutely still some toxicity; all fandoms have their bad faith actors, their drama hounds, their shipping Diskhorsers TM. I have gotten hate mail, I know folks who have issue with weird anon haters who are persistent, whatever. But no, it is not as bad as it has been in the past, IMO, not at ALL, and it is 100% possible to have an active, sociable and nice time in this fandom so long as you curate your engagement, with basically no drama at all. Many of the worst folks burned out and left when the fandom got less active and their shitstirring paid lesser and lesser dividends, IME.

People sometimes ask how I maintain such a vocal presence without falling into the still-there drama, and I have some advice that I promise you will mitigate like, 99% of the possible issues you could encounter:

Block whenever you feel like blocking. If you get a bad vibe, if you just don't personally like someone and don't wanna see them, if you see them throwing what looks like a temper tantrum you don't want in on, just block 'em. Remember: blocking is nothing personal towards the person you are blocking. It is not insulting and doesn't need to be 'earned'. Block every single person you think not blocking might even just theoretically cause stress or drama. (I am blocked by several people for reasons no more serious than 'I hate your OTP', and I commend every one of them for doing it and having a better time on this site!)

Delete any and all anon hate. Block anyone and everyone who sends you hate. No exceptions. No witty comebacks. No takedowns. Nothing. You see it and the actual literal second you do, you block and delete. None of it is worth one second of your time. Deprived of the oxygen, they will leave. And you won't be tempted to re-read it and stress out.

In that same vein, if it causes issues, just turn anon off! Turn it off. Personally I keep it on because I simply do not care about the odd troll, but if you care even slightly? Fuck 'em, turn it off, anon is a privilege your followers need to earn by acting in good faith.

Find people you like and follow them, ignore blatant shitstirring in the maintags (again: block people!) and try to curate content and follows and mutuals based on what you do like and not what you don't. Curate positive engagement; do not rely on the general fandom slurry, find what you like and hang out in your own corner of things that bring you joy. If the maintag stresses you out: don't check it. Check the blogs of folks you know are cool instead. Stuff like that.

Fandom should be fun. Fandom should be finding people you like and sharing good times with them, not stressing about avoiding folks you hate, or who hate you. Tumblr lets you moderate how you engage, when, and where more than almost any current social media site; now you can even turn off reblogs and oh my GOD is that a lifesaver function btw. If you want, you can make your blog unsearchable! It means you will need to be more proactive in making friends. But TF fandom is pretty tight knit these days, and folks want to talk a lot of the time. You'll still be able to engage with cool people.

There's way less aggro losers around these days, but more to the point, you can absolutely avoid the ones that still insist on being annoying and starve them out without much effort, tbh.

[amethystroselilith]

Oh, would it be okay to request a what would happen if MC played Uno against the Obey Me boys? I'll leave it to you if you want to use a headcanon format or a short story featuring one of the boys as your S.O, but I feel like that game brings out the worst in people sometimes. All in fun, but still.

Had to go to HC route because of lack of time and need to publish this asap since this is so overdue, sorry, anon!

Demon Brothers x MC Playing UNO!

DISCLAIMER: Tbh, I have no idea about the official rules of UNO lmao, we can stack the +2s and can pass the +4s to next player when we have some + cards sorry if that’s a bit different from how you guys play it lol.

LUCIFER

He won’t admit it, but he likes spending time with his brothers and you like this. Better than them causing trouble that’s for sure.

Had more work to do, but would keep those aside to spend time with his family. That’s only for him to know though.

Genuinely surprised when Satan and Belphie sat on each side of him, but quickly knew they’re up to no good.

Yep, he’s right… Those two would stack their + cards on him and he ended up with so many cards he rarely finishes first.

Doesn’t mind though, loves the challenge, and he likes having you invested in watching when it’s just him and whoever is unfortunate to be last with him *cough* Mammon *cough*. That’s when the game actually becomes exciting.

Still manages to win much to Satan and Belphie’s disappointment.

When you’re next to him, he wouldn’t care, if he needs to get rid of cards, you’re getting them + cards, even the +4’s. 

Would want to have you as his final opponent and will most likely wager something, especially when he sees you’re fighting a losing battle. 

MAMMON

Wanted to include money winnings to make things interesting. Everyone immediately shut this idea down. 

Gets bullied by his brothers. Usually, the one stuck with Lucifer in the end.

Is actually good at it himself, and won one time against Lucifer, and always rubbed it in everyone’s faces.

When you’re next to him, he will definitely not give you any + cards, that’s pretty much why he’s one of the last ones in the game.

Unless money is involved, he gets aggressive and will most likely finish first. He’ll share his winnings with you though, and you should be grateful that The Great Mammon is generous to you.

Will whine and pout at you when you give him + cards though.

Ever since you lost a wager against Lucifer that one time, Mammon made sure that you’ll win as soon as possible to avoid it.

Unless it’s the two of you left, then he’ll definitely pull that trick on you. Will fail cause his brothers will most likely intervene.

LEVI

The one who initiated it.

Very competitive. No one really likes to be next to him.

Will actually strategise and is usually the first one that wins.

If you’re next to him, he’ll only give at most one +2, he doesn’t wanna be seen as a simp like Mammon, but at the same time, he wants you to win after him.

He’s otaku pride is more important in times like these.

Will cheer on you when he’s out of the game. Will also help you cheat to win.

Will tweet the whole thing to keep himself entertained while out of the game.

Will shower you with so much praise when you pulled a power move.

SATAN

Just joined to mess with Lucifer tbh.

Proposed modified rules to truly mess with Lucifer make the game interesting. With the power of his persuasion and Belphie’s vote, the proposal was accepted.

Pretty much stacks all his +’s on Lucifer.

You think he’s sweet he’s not dropping those + cards on you? Nope, he’s waiting for Belphie to drop a Reverse card to drop those on Lucifer.

Usually wins mid-game. They did not totally let him win on purpose. Nope, totally not related to that tantrum he threw when he lost to Lucifer.

He can take one +2. 

Do not give him a +4, he’s vengeful.

ASMO

Isn’t really invested in the game, he just wants to take photos for his social media. Posts his cards online. Levi and Mammon use that to their advantage.

Will cuddle when you’re next to him, not caring if you see his cards or not. Will also not give you any + cards and will declare that’s how much he loves you.

Will give you a kiss when you win.

Expects one as well when he does.

Will get very pouty when you give him + cards. 

“Y/N, how could you betray me like that?”

You will have to make up by showering him with attention and affection throughout the whole game to make him feel better.

BEEL

The only one who plays normally.

Loves this time when everyone is together and having fun. Always looking forward to it. 

Would refuse to drop + cards on you and Belphie.

He has no problems dropping those on anyone else though, and with the modified rules, he has a shit ton of them stacked. No one likes to sit next to him.

Will not mind if you give him + cards, and will take it as a sacrifice for you to win.

Accidentally reveals his cards while trying to eat.

Cheers on you when he’s out of the game.

BELPHIE

Just joined to mess with Lucifer tbh pt 2.

The spoiled one who actually gets a free pass to get to sit next to you because he uses “the adorable youngest brother card”. It miraculously works. 

Quickly loses interest when he’s out of the game and will most likely just cuddle to you because he deserves it as a reward.

You think he’s also sweet for not dropping his + cards on you? Nope, he also wants you out of the game asap so he can only focus on destroying Lucifer and whoever’s next to him, unless it’s Beel of course, he gives his twin mercy. 

He whines when you give him a + card cause now he has to spend more energy in the game.

Will actually hold that against you and will demand a lot of cuddles and naps together to make up for it.

Sometimes, when he knows he’s going to be left with Lucifer, he pretends to fall asleep mid-game. Playing with Lucifer is too exhausting for him and he doesn’t wanna deal with that.

[enkelimagnus]

Cookbook

Bucky Barnes Gen, 1694 words, rated T for Hydra shit

Jewish Bucky Barnes, pre TFATWS, post Endgame

Bucky walks home from a long day of paperwork. On his path is a garage sale and a tired woman.

TW: cigarettes, smoking

Read on AO3

Part 2 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series, Part 1 here, Part 2 here

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

Bucky smokes on the way home from work.

Everything that brought some sort of pleasure was a currency back in his day. That was why they sent cigarettes to the front. It was easy to make them necessary, when you were under constant fire and needed something to keep you going. Anything that got you out of that hell was traded for, fought for. Some days, it was like nothing mattered more than the next ration shipment and its load of cigarettes, pin-up magazines and six-pence books.

In truth, he doesn’t have the habit he used to have. Hydra wouldn’t have that. Upside of brainwashing, he guesses. And it’s not like it burns the same way anymore. That’s the serum for you.

Still, sometimes, he pulls a cigarette out of its gore-decorated cardboard box, lights it and pretends it has the same effect on him now than it did back in muddy camps or candle-lit living rooms.

The day has been long. No raids, but he’d been stuck behind a desk doing fucking paperwork for the last two weeks-worth of missions. His reports are tired and concise, he hates doing them and he’s pretty sure it’s obvious to anyone who reads what he writes.

He wishes he could smoke then , at that stupid cramped desk, to make the endless signing and reading and writing easier, but you’re not allowed to smoke inside anymore. So he finds himself doodling on other pieces of paper when his mind drifts. His focus is not the best outside of missions.

He used to love writing shit. Steve had his drawings and Bucky had his words, in between everything else. They wrote stories on notes they passed in class in high school. When it got taken by the teacher, no one could understand what they were talking about. He used to make up worlds and think of men walking in space, and he wishes he could tell his 14-year-old self that there are people in the sky, and that he’ll meet them one day. That he’ll see aliens, real ones, and punch them in the face.

He would tell him all the good things about the universe, all the people in it, all about partners in crime and arms like Dugan or Morito or Jones, or Sam or Natasha, how he not only met Howard Stark but was his comrade, how Stark knew him as “Sergeant Barnes” or “Sarge”.

He’d tell him all the good, and none of the bad, none of how his dad would die in two years and he’d be leading the family in shabbos prayers at 16, none of how the people in the world could be cruel for the sake of their own fun, none of how Howard Stark said his name in shock before he punched in his skull with the metal fist that was now his left hand.

Those conversations with his younger self -- barely a man, already smart-mouthed and charming and cocky in the way teenagers are and in the way Bucky had tried to remain for as long as he could until the war drained it out of him -- evaporate in the smoke, in the cold Brooklyn air.

He doesn’t love writing anymore. His mind can’t create the worlds it used to make. He thinks in three languages on a good day, only knows how to write one of those, so whenever he tries, something’s always missing. On a bad day, he can barely string along one sentence, let alone tell a story.

And he’s got no one to tell them to, anyway.

It’s 7pm and the streets are dark and icy. In the last few weeks, the gloves he always wears to hide his left hand have not been an incongruous fashion statement.

It’s January now. There was snow last week, a soft blanket that made him fucking cry out of nowhere when he saw it through the window. It was gone soon, but it was there. And for once, it didn’t fall on Siberia. It fell on Brooklyn again. He never would have thought he’d seen snow on Brooklyn again.

That kind of shit pulls memories out of him like nothing else, and he’s thankful for them. They make it easier and harder at the same time.

He told Doctor Raynor about the shul that’s now a church, about how it was the worst pain he’d felt since he’d last been wiped. How that’s another reason why he doesn’t want to walk into Becky’s retirement home and see her as she is now. The pain of time lost is the worst one to bear.

That, and he’s pretty sure she knows what he’s done. His name and photo have been blasted on every news channel and every social media website after the UN bombing. There’s no way she wouldn’t recognize him, when he looks so similar to the brother she lost.

He has no desire to face his Becky now that he’s a murderer and a weapon of mass destruction, Hydra brainwashing or not. You don’t do that to your little sister.

Besides, she doesn’t need him. She’s got kids and grandkids and great-grandkids, and nephews and nieces and every sort of relative you can imagine except for parents and siblings. She’s taken care of, they visit her often, she doesn’t need the grief he’d bring. He can’t be selfish.

He stops to stab the butt of the cigarette into a wall but his eyes catch something else.

In the cold evening, there’s a few lights set up on the sidewalk, over some makeshift tables threatening to crumble over all the items on it. Everyday items mostly, kitchen stuff, books and a clock and some candlesticks.

At first glance, all of the pricier stuff has been sold already, and there’s a tired-looking middle-aged woman sitting on the stairs of the house behind the tables. She has a look on her face, heavy with emotions muddled so well they’re impossible to tell apart.

“Buy what you want,” she says. Her voice doesn’t carry. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have heard more than a mumble if his hearing wasn’t enhanced. “Pay what you want.”

How many times has she said that today?

He looks down at the items for a moment, the cheap metal candlesticks, some old plates decorated with blue flowers, a still plastic-wrapped, never used, frankly hideous challah cover, and a pile of various books. Most in English, a couple in what he assumes to be Polish, some in Yiddish. His eyes fall on one in particular, a cookbook. It looks old.

“Can I touch?” He asks, pointing at the cookbook.

The woman nods. “Yeah. Nothing very modern in there. Bubbe barely even made this anymore,” she explains. Ah. A bubbe passed and the stuff they can’t keep, they’re selling.

The cookbook’s unremarkable. It’s been used, obviously, there are stains of chocolate-covered fingerprints on some of the dessert pages as he flips through. It seems to be half in English and half in Yiddish. He reaches the page where the publication date would be. He doesn’t even know why he’s checking.

Entire Contents Copyrighted 1949 The B. Manischewitz Co. Printed in the U.S.A.

1949. It’s close enough. Really close enough.

“How much do you want?” He looks up at the mourner.

“I told ya, it’s how much you’re willing to give.”

Bucky makes an annoyed sound at the back of his throat. He rephrases the question. “How much do you want me to give?”

The woman makes eye contact again. She looks deeply surprised by his question. Hesitant, too. She has no idea what to reply.

He fishes his wallet out of his pocket, starts going through the cash he has. He barely uses his credit card. Every month, when he gets his money from the army, he immediately withdraws most of it. It’s safer that way, and he knows how much he’s spending.

He counts out 180 dollars. It feels like a ridiculous amount for a cookbook, but the woman’s selling her bubbe’s shit like this, she’s still out at 7pm in January in Brooklyn and Bucky doesn’t have a lot of expenses anyway. He doesn’t really have expensive taste. 18’s a good number too, at least, it used to be, in his day.

“Peace be upon her,” He says quietly, when the woman opens her mouth at the bills he places in her hand. “It’s getting cold, you should go back inside,” he adds, quiet and coaxing, the tone he used to use when the neighbor’s son, Aaron, had a tantrum and sat on the stairs all evening, pretending to be mad at his parents.

Did he know the bubbe in question? Was she one of the kids from Hebrew school? It’s a little too far from his old neighborhood to be sure. He’s not going to ask.

The woman sighs a little, putting the money in her pocket when she realizes he’s not going to take any of it back.

He eyes the tables for a moment. “You need help packing up?”

She hesitates. He gets it, he’s a weird stranger who just bought an old cookbook for 180 dollars, it’s nighttime… He can’t tell her he’s not a serial killer, because he is one, and there’s going to be a moment where she remembers where she’s seen his face before. There usually is.

He holds his hands up, seemingly showing he’s harmless. It’s hilarious, really, because he’s never harmless. But contrary to Steve, he’s not massive. He’s more on the lean side of things, especially with his new arm.

“No pressure.”

She hesitates still, but he sees the exhaustion working away at her until she nods. The cookbook is put to the side and he helps her pack up the tables and the remaining things. He is careful not to display too much strength, and he’s also careful to keep his face in a neutral but positive sort of mask. His resting expression is meaner than needed.

He comes home much later than he thought he would, but he’s got a cookbook and some ideas of how to occupy his amnesia-riddled nights.

[frankics]

hello  all  you  lovely  lovely  people  !  thanks  again  for  applying  to  this  rp,  you  have  NO  idea  how  excited  i  am  to  get  this  going.  i’m  lily,  i’m  newly  20,  in  the  est  timezone  and  my  pronouns  are  she/her.  i  love  trash  tv,  my  puppies,  and  the  collected  works  of  the  greatest  band  in  history  (one  direction).  this  is  my  trash  daughter  frankie,  she  truly  belongs  in  the  garbage  but  i  love  her  so  much.  below  the  cut  is  my  long  ass  intro  for  her,  i  forgive  you  if  you  don’t  read  it  all  because  looking  at  it  now  i  wouldn’t  want  to  either  !  anyway,  if  you’re  interested  in  plotting  with  me  and  frankie,  hmu  on  discord  and  you  can  check  this  blog  for  some connections  i  would  love  to  see  !

( alisha boe, cisfemale, she/her, MUSE E ) — oh my god, i totally just saw FRANCESCA ARCHER walking through greenwich village! you know, she plays SKYLAR ELLIS on that new netflix show, the village? i can’t believe they’re already famous at TWENTY-ONE. i’ve watched all of their interviews, and they totally come off as IMPERTINENT and RECKLESS, but they can also be ROMANTIC and WITTY. based on their social media, i’d describe FRANKIE like ( worn out black high-tops, mischievous smiles, nails painted different colors, peach vodka, swimming in an ocean during a storm ) — totally makes sense that people call them THE SPITFIRE.

important links: bio. statistics. filmography. muse posts. social media. 

warning: death tw on the 5th bullet point!!

the frankie archer story begins in 1996, when her mother yasmiin moves from her home of somalia to brooklyn to pursue an art career. she moved into a tiny apartment halfway across the world, knowing nothing and no one, looking for inspiration. she found it in the form of lorenzo archer, her next door neighbor. they dated for two years, but neither family approved of the other as a match: yasmiin’s family wanted her to return to somalia, and lorenzo’s roman catholic family were not pleased about their son selecting a non-catholic woman. but lorenzo and yasmiin didn’t care, and got married at new york city hall with the court appointed witness. two weeks later, yasmiin was pregnant with frankie. 

francesca simone archer was born on june 9, 1999. she is a gemini sun, a scorpio moon, and an aries rising. she was named francesca for her grandmother on the paternal side, and simone after nina simone, the singer that was playing on lorenzo’s record player when they first met. her two siblings, nala archer and zahi archer, were born in 2001 and 2003 respectively. 

her childhood is generally quite happy. lorenzo and yasmiin were born to be parents and they love frankie, nala, and zahi endlessly, the type of supportive love that makes children thrive. frankie possesses a natural wit and excels academically, nala is the star athlete, and zahi is a wizard with watercolor. frankie loves the movies and decides she wants to be an actress when she grows up, so lorenzo and yasmiin enroll her in acting classes and improv camps. things chug along in the archer family beautifully. 

that is, until frankie gets a high school scholarship to packer collegiate institute, located in the affluent neighborhood of brooklyn heights. she takes it, of course, with her parents’ full support. but she is nothing like anyone else who attends packer, and for a 14 year old who wants to blend in, that is the worst possible thing. she is suddenly, painfully aware of her worn-out clothes, her used books, her strange mother with paint stains on her bleached out jeans. frankie lashes out, screaming and storming off and slamming doors. she and her mother are hurricanes and the rest of the family simply battens down the hatches. one day when frankie is 15, she tells her mother that this family is her worst nightmare. it is the last words she will ever speak to her mother. 

a few hours after, the archers get a call that yasmiin has been in an accident. it was a hit and run: a drunk driver t-boned her, and they’re rushing her to the hospital. when the family arrives, the doctors break the news that yasmiin is comatose and that things aren’t looking good. lorenzo refuses to take her off life support, insisting she’ll recover. she is in a coma for nearly a year and a half before he is convinced to pull the plug. 

and now, the part of the frankie archer story that everyone knows, the serendipitous hollywood beginning. she’s just a charming, talented, grieving, all-american girl from brooklyn, heading off to juilliard in the fall. on her 18th birthday, the first one spent without her mother, she attends an open call for a role in an indie film called thursday mourning. she thinks it’ll be a fun way to spend the day, or at least distracting enough. and then she gets the fucking part. 

long story short, the film blows up. it’s shown at venice, winning the golden lion and a prize for frankie as the most promising young actor in the festival. it’s nominated for four oscars, including a best supporting actress nom for frankie. she doesn’t win, but it’s created a path for her to do whatever she wants, acting-wise. she does three more films in the next two years, gaining a reputation as an indie darling before realizing that indie films don’t make all that much money. 

and she needs money, because her father is drowning in hospital bills from yasmiin’s death that he can’t pay. that’s when the offer comes through from her agent: a starring role in an ensemble cast netflix show called the village. she’s planning on throwing the script away. she’s not interested in any television show, much less a teen drama. she’s a serious actress and she certainly doesn’t want to be the next veronica lodge, made fun of on the internet by strangers with discerning taste. but with a little coaxing from her agent, she reads the script, and the role is good, the writing strong. so she takes the village, even though she wants to do movies more, even though she might get memed into oblivion. one episode will halve her father’s debt. 

frankie was tapped for the village because while she’s definitely not as famous as some of her other castmates, nor does she have the hollywood background, she has consistently received acclaim for her performances. the producers think it will bring them some clout with the critics, and she has a sterling reputation as a hard worker on set.

so that’s the basic bio of frankie! now onto her personality >:-)

first of all, and most importantly, if you call her francesca you are DEAD.

frankie’s described by the media as a spitfire, and she definitely lives up to that description. she’s not particularly patient with interviews or paparazzi, she has a nasty mouth and an acerbic sense of humor, and to the general public she probably comes across as quite guarded and private about her life. she got into this business to be an actress, not a celebrity. 

nevertheless, if she wanted to be a celebrity, she could probably be a pretty beloved one. frankie has a very charismatic, charming way about her, that probably lets her get away with more in the public eye than she should. there’s just something about that hollywood story that makes people relate to her and root for her. 

the number one defining characteristic of frankie is her passion. she throws herself intensely into everything she does, feels emotions too vividly, fights for what she wants. she cares so much about everything. acting is her main passion, her forever love. it’s why she’s so good at what she does: she’s not the most talented, she doesn’t have the most training, but she feels so intensely. it also makes her very emotional (classic cancer!) if you’re close with her

also because of this passion, she’s probably the most competitive person you’ll ever meet in your entire life. she’s like, slightly insane about it? she wants to win everything, but she hates losing even more than she likes winning. she’s the type to throw a tiny tantrum if she loses a game of uno. 

frankie’s always been bold, likes to live life on the edge, but it became something much uglier after her mother’s death. she’s reckless to the nth degree: doing her own stunts, drinking and partying the night away. she’s not suicidal, but in some ways, it’s like she doesn’t have a huge regard for her own life. 

in her private life, frankie is pretty different. it’s not so much that her negative qualities disappear -- she still swears like a sailor and is less than patient. but rather, the flaws become less apparent when you get to know her. she’s sort of a goofy little marshmallow wearing a giant suit of spiky armor. 

one of the most loyal people you will ever meet, because she throws herself headlong into friendships and relationships. she’s sort of an all or nothing type gal, so if you befriend frankie expect it to be a very close relationship whether you like it or not. 

she is kind of the crazy friend? she’s baby? like she’s absolutely the person who’s encouraging everyone else to do dumb shit, and she’s always coming up with ridiculous ideas and pranks. side note give frankie a prank buddy on set!

she’s really quite witty. she absolutely loves twitter, which is basically the only glimpse the general public would get as to who frankie is in private. her twitter filled with her dumb jokes and random thoughts. in another life, she might have been a twitter comic.

she is a hopeless romantic, which she will never admit to anyone in the world unless it’s layered under 100 miles of sarcasm. the only relationship she’s really ever known is her parents’ relationship, and they were madly in love til the bitter end. she desperately wants something like that, but hasn’t quite found it. she’s been in exactly one pr relationship, but nothing particularly real or long-lasting.

she loves fashion. her mother taught her to sew and she sketches and makes some of her own clothes. her absolute dream is to collab with a designer on a fashion line: some of her favorite labels are marc jacobs, jean paul-gaultier, sies marjan, and moschino! she’s also had a lot of positive press for her red carpet looks. 

she has a dog, who she loves more than anything! his name is duke, he’s a staffie rescue, and she brings him on set frequently. she’s lobbying to get him cast as someone’s dog. 

she’s playing skylar ellis on the village, and because this is literally so long you can find some info about skylar at these links: statistics, muse posts, social media. i haven’t finished writing her entire bio yet but here’s the rundown: skylar appears to everyone like the pretty princess who has everything she could ever want. her parents are rich, she’s beautiful and smart, and she has a perfect relationship with phillip. but on the inside, she’s drowning. her dad wants her to take over the family company but she wants to be a writer, and the worst part is that she’s good at writing and horrible at business! she’s always been content to go with the flow (aka, what her parents want) because things are good in her life, but after her encounter with james over the summer, she’s realizing that she is completely trapped in a life she doesn’t want in the least. now she’s a conflicted mess of emotion trying to figure out what to do. 

[migleefulmoments]

"That’s because she’s a toddler that stomps her foot and throws a tantrum when she doesn’t get what she wants or the attention she feels entitled to for doing absolutely nothing meaningful with her life." Hahahahahaha, Abby talking about herself again. This miserable woman has some serious psychological issues if she can't recognize that what she is describing is her own pathetic attitude and existence. It really is woeful behavior, Abby. For the love of god, stop and employ some introspection.

I’m always amazed at her complete lack of introspection and her inability to understand who is doing the feet stomping and attention-demanding but I’m more floored that the tinhat enablers can’t see it. The endless narcissism memes and quotes posted without an iota of irony by Leka, Cassie, and Flowers are frankly baffling. How can they not see it? 

I suppose Mia could be a stomping toddler princess-we would have no way of knowing because we hardly ever hear her speak and we certainly do not get to hear her thoughts and feelings about life. The only time we get any access to anything that might resemble a thought or feeling is when a friend reblogs s social media post from her private IG. It’s super rare and we have never seen anything resembling a “toddler princess”.  To get from a smiling photo of Darren and Mia on the red carpet to “she is stomping her feet and making demands” one must believe a long, fabricated backstory created purely to fulfill Abby’s fantasy-a fantasy that is rooted in deep-green jealousy rather than anything real.  

Mia is well-liked by her friends, her bar staff, and Darren’s friends, coworkers, and peers. We know this because they post it on social media. People write really nice -and often very specific-comments about what they like about Mia or what she brings to their lives. Abby, on the other hand, spends her days raging over Darren maybe might possibly could ogle men on the Hollywood set and that would be someone’s fault-ok it would be Ricky’s fault. She’s angry about Darren’s new home-shocker, she doesn’t like it. She’s pissed that D-Criss News reports Darren’s life like it happens aka she doesn’t scrub her blog of all mentions of Mia and/or Photoshop her out of pictures like DACN does. The only one demanding respect is Miss Abs who was quite angry after being called out and argued “I am the one who constantly tries to explain his actions and constantly tries to assert my opinion”

There is only one person stomping her feet and making demands and her name starts with “Abby”. 

“I was just saying to a good friend, with SK, my patience has expired. And that’s how I feel about everything involving d and this tragedy. At least if he was working there would be a distraction. It’s May. We’ve gotten one night about d. One. The rest have been overshadowed and that includes his 3 awards.

And if my patience has run out, imagine how d&c feel. I just wish I knew how we got here. It’s my worst nightmare times a thousand, maybe a million. And I’m disgusted with everyone surrounding him. And angry. Very very angry.

Please may he win. If he wins, this will just be a difficult bump on a long road to the finish line and victory. Please, please, please. This can’t be his life. Because he’s not living”.(X)

“...your one sentence resonates, “fans of d who want him straight see M as the only one who makes him straight…”. That’s not a me problem. That’s a them problem. That’s pathetic. Essentially, what you are saying, and truly what I believe so we agree, they support m because they realize without her d would be allowed to be his queer self in love with another man. And that truth petrifies them.

And this fandom, in which I am a loud voice, points out every damn flaw and they hate it because they know they can’t erase it. So they counter by praising that worthless, vile, malicious, greedy woman. And bullying us. And creating blogs to hate us.

And yes a side effect, m gets same increased praise because of it. And that’s a negative. But we also make her life hell but continuing to publish facts. And we scare the fuck out if her fans. And I have no intention of stopping. Because the truth always comes out in the end. M will lose. Maybe not today or even next year. But in time. And I will take pride in knowing I was a massive thorn in her side and played a part in her demise.

D is going to win. And I will see it happen.

Love this gem of demands 

You know what I miss?

D having projects that I was excited about and looking forward to.  The ONLY one he has upcoming that i am remotely happy about is M/idway, and that makes me sad in many ways as that is the direction his career should be going and instead it has stalled.

Instead, this entire year was things I do not care about and I am not interested in.  

SK? No thank you, not only do many (not all) use him mercilessly, but everything they touch, whether professional or personal, is the PBB show.  And while I appreciate his loyalty, i really do, and I understand he is an owner, he has grown so far beyond them, this should not have been a primary focus of the entire first half of the year.

R/oyalites?  That one is hard no for me. first we have the Jumping Jackass as executive producer. Need i say more?  Of course I will.  It is also in a format i found wholly uninteresting and is being written by 2 people that i don’t believe have grown beyond their college years.  In addition, i think it will be used as a vehicle to promote ass kissers, but that remains to be seen.

TB?  Nope, have not even watched it in its entirety more than once.  A commercial for a food chain i don’t like and that supports Donnie as the ONLY acting he has done until just recently seems like an utter joke.  I recognize it was well done, but not when it is the only thing. Commercials and ads should be supplementing his acting career, not be his entire career.

EF? I should be excited, i have a ticket. But to see who?  6 weeks from Saturday and not even D is confirmed as performing.  And even if it is an amazing line up, RR and PBB have their fingerprints all over it and pull focus. (future Abby LOVED Elsie this year) 

I WAS excited about CG music, but what happened there?  They started a fan club, promised an EP and nothing.  Instead C/huck has released his own album and included at least one song that was supposed to be on the CG EP.  

Fine, there is CIM, that was fun, but fleeting. So i guess I was happy about this.  Wonder what happened to the video?

I think this is the thing that makes me almost more angry than anything. Fine, they forced him to marry that woman, and that breaks my heart and is near impossible to watch. I hate every second of it.  But not only do I have to watch that shit show nearly everyday as their life may as well be a reality show, there isn’t even the work to use as a distraction.

I assume and hope there is a plan and this is temporary. I do.He deserves so much better than what has happened in 2019.

Sorry, in a glum mood and this is what happened.

[allthingsteenmom]

MY THOUGHTS ON TEEN MOM OG S8 E10 “FATHER’S DAY FOLLIES”

• Reintroducing Mackenzie uuugh

• Wow even that short little clip reminded me just how much I’m not a fan of her

• Horses are so fun

• Tyler brings up a really good point with the relationships between birth and adoptive parents

• There is so much stuff on Cheyenne’s counter, that would stress me out so badly lol

• Matt texting Cory happy Father’s Day without even telling Cheyenne ahead of time is so fucking adorable and also very mature

• Damn Cory always has such nice braids

• I like how Cheyenne’s plate only has meat and no sides on it lol

• Oh my god, as a server, parents who let their kids run around like Cory & Cheyenne are letting Ryder right now are the WORST, especially in a nice restaurant

• Gannon is so grown

• Oh look, the dog they abused that they still have

• Ugh GOD looking back over Mackenzie and Josh disgusts me

• I do really feel for Mackenzie with her mom having cancer though; that’s heartbreaking

• And being away from your family for a few months is validation to cheat? Ok

• Trust is hard when you have a history of cheating, leave for months, and talk about how common cheating is tf

• I do think Leah is young to have an Instagram

• JAYDE IS SO CUTE. “can I tell you a secret? I wish that I could be a farmer one day”

• I’m not great at bowling lol

• LA traffic, no thanks

• Omggg Cory doing the roller coaster thing with Ruder is sooo cuuute

• I like Taylor’s leggings

• Josh was cheating/supporting a cheater? What a surprise (not)

• Mackenzie’s friends scrunchie and hair is so cute

• “We were fighting so we didn’t know if we were together”..Uh what?

• The throwback scenes of Cate & Ty never fail to make me teary

• Nova knows how to throw a tantrum but she’s so sweet

• “Caution: wet paint”

• Hahah I love little kid gifts

• Why is Ryan not even sitting with everyone else

• Why would you intentionally plan to wait until the last minute to ask about taking a kid for Father’s Day?

• I wasn’t even allowed to have social media at 14 as a freshman in high school...so I just made a secret Facebook account

• Why is she sitting there cuddled up to him?

• “I’d just like you to trust me, so that’s why I lied”

• Also...his explanation of nothing obviously isn’t the full truth?? Wtf

• ..How special what is? I’m confused

• “Are you gonna tell me when stuff happens?” “I don’t know”...WHAT THE FUCK

• Of course Ryan didn’t know how many games Bentley had

• Sounds like a lot of excuses Ryan but ok

• Yeah, sure, don’t worry about your relationship with your child or his mom

• Matt has some nice waves

• (low key still think Cory and Cheyenne will end up together)

• Cheyenne’s “oh god” is how I feel on her behalf lol

• I think bowling shoes are kind of cute tbh (like just the style, not that so many people have worn them)

• I think it’s sweet that they celebrate Carly’s birthday

• How do we feel about Mackenzie’s glasses?..

• “I know that only god can heal me” oh my goddd. Yeah just fuck modern medicine, right?

• Is it just me being biased, or is Mackenzie throwing a selfish tantrum right now?

WHO’S READY FOR NEXT WEEK...LOOKS LIKE A DOOZY

[itsmarianstories]

🔆Pocahontas🔆

[Jikook Social Media Au]

Part 5

Jimin and Jungkook have been together for years. They used to be so happy but at some point things changed and Jungkook seemed to lose interest in Jimin.

(A/N: I'm posting this from my phone so I can't put in one of these keep-reading-link thingys sorry to crush your tl)

Word count: 1.409

_________________________

Jeongguk knocked on the door.

It was a weird feeling, knocking on his own door. It was still his home, as long as Jimin will live here it will always be his home, no matter what will happen today.

It took a few moments before Jimin opened the door. He looked so small, dark circles under his eyes.

“Come in.” Jimin sighed, stepping aside.

“Thank you.” Jeongguk said, not really sure why. He took off his shoes and went to the living room. All their pictures, every little trace from Jeongguk was gone. His heart clenched painfully.

“Jimin, I-"

“Do you wanna drink anything or...?”

“What? No, I'm,” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. They were standing about five meters apart. Jimin hugged his own chest and looked to the side, as if his fridge had suddenly became super interesting. Their fridge, it’s their fridge. Jeongguk took a deep breath, it’s now or never.

“I love you.” He started, watching how Jimin tensed.

“And I'm incredibly sorry, I hope you know that. I never intended for this all to happen, it wasn’t my plan to abandon you like this you didn’t deserve any of it. I know I caused a lot of damage and I don’t know if I’m too late now b-but-" He took a shaky breath, trying hard not to cry.

“but I don't want to lose you, I don’t want to give up on us.”

Jimin shook his head slightly before going to sit down on the couch, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Jeongguk, I don’t know if I can recover from this. You don’t know how I felt when I waited for any sign of life for you for days, when you ignored all my messages, when you came h-home only to... to fuck me and leave again.” A single tear rolled down the olders face but he quickly caught it and wiped it away. Jeongguk didn’t even try to hide his sob.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to use you or hurt you or... or... I just...” Jeongguk sat down on the other side of the couch, giving Jimin as much space as possible, although all he wanted to do was hug him forever.

“Tell me, you said you wanted to explain, so do, talk.” Jimins voice was hard, cold and Jeongguk never heard him talk like that before. At least not to him.

“I need to start a bit back for that.” Jeongguk tried to talk as calm as possible.

“Do you remember how I had to go to America for this documentary film a year ago?” He waited till Jimin nodded.

“My company was very happy with my results and said they want to send me back to America, long-term. They talked about two years or something and I said no because firstly I wanted to stay with you and secondly how would I survive there on my own? But my boss was super angry for some reason he really insisted that I should go. It all kind of escalated and they said I either go or I’m fired. I didn’t know how it all would turn out so I didn’t want to worry you. I still had a contract so they couldn’t fire me right now, instead they made me do the worst possible jobs, things they knew I would hate. I started looking for new jobs but it was really hard, photographers are not something in urgent need, you know?” Jeongguk looked away as his eyes pooled again, he felt Jimin stare into the back of his head.

“My plan was to wait until I have a new job to tell you but everything kind of escalated. The situation with my company got worse everyday and all my applications got declined I was so frustrated but I didn’t want to worry you with all of that so I distanced myself more and more. I hated myself more with every message I left on read but I just couldn’t bring myself to talk to you. I was embarrassed and scared and so angry and... I did it all totally wrong I know but I can’t turn back time. I don’t want to excuse my behaviour because really I was the biggest fool, now all I can do is tell you the truth and hope.”

Jimin stood up and started pacing through the room.

“And now?” He asked after a while. “Did you find a new job?” Jeongguk bit his lip nervously.

“A small art studio offered me a job as landscape photographer. I haven’t accepted yet though.” He admitted. Jimin stopped and turned around to look at him.

“Why? It’s what you always wanted to do anyway.” The younger looked on the floor, ashamed.

“I’d have to travel a lot, I didn’t... I mean... I wanted...” It was silent for a few minutes, Jimin continued to stare at him until he suddenly let out a frustrated scream.

“You dumbass, what the fuck! I hate you so much! Why are you so fucking stupid? You have no idea what I went through! I thought you didn’t love me anymore, that you grew tired of me, that you found someone else-"

“Jimin I could never-"

“Shut the fuck up, I’m not done! You made me go through hell because of something so stupid, are you kidding me?! 'You didn’t want to worry me' my fucking ass what do you think I did all this time? If you had just told me from the beginning I could have helped you! I would have supported you! What the actual hell Jeongguk, we are together for almost six years! Six! And you pull shit like that? Do you even know me? Do you have that little faith in me? I’m not a fucking doll I don’t need your protection! What do you think I would have done if you told me? Jump off a bridge?? Sure I would have worried and be pissed off at you boss but that’s it. What the actual fuck!” Halfway through his rant Jimin had started crying again. He pressed his palms over his eyes and turned away. Jeongguk stood up in a sudden burst of braveness and went over to his -hopefully still- boyfriend, hugging him from behind. Jimin turned around, throwing a small tantrum and hammering his small fists against Jeongguks chest again and again. God Jeongguk loves him so much.

“I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you so much!” Jimin repeated again and again. The older hid his face in his hands again, trying to block out a sob and Jeongguk pulled him closer again.

“I’m so so so so so so so sorry! I was dumb and silly and stupid and idiotic and naive and it will never ever ever happen again. I promise, I swear on my soul, I swear on my camera and all my equipment, I swear on my genitals! I will never hide anything doesn’t matter how trivial it is! You’ll be the first to know! I mean, if you’d give me a second chance that is.” He let out and awkward chuckle.

“You are an idiot.” Jimin mumbled in his hands.

“I am, I know.”

“And I hate you.”

“You have every right to.”

“And I’ll take your words for granted!”

“Please do!”

“That means if you ever pull something like that, I'll take your soul and your camera plus equipment and I’ll castrate you!”

“Wait what?”

“And I won’t have sex with you for at least a month because the last times made me feel like a literal trash bag and I’m traumatised now.”

“You what?”

“I hate you.”

“You already said that.”

“You are annoying.”

“I know.”

“I’m still mad.”

“I deserve that.” There was a short break again before Jeongguk whispered.

“I love you, Park Jimin.”

“I hate you too.”

Jeongguk smiled, he hasn't felt as at peace as he did now in so long. He really could cry again, he was so relieved. A million tons were lifted of his shoulders and he could finally breath again. He inhaled Jimins scent. God he missed that berry scent so much.

They stood in the middle of their living room for probably fifteen minutes until Jimin started squirming and pulled Jeongguk to the bedroom instead. They cuddled up in their bed, only enjoying each others presence.

They were finally home again.

[shakespeares-globe-blog]

The double self: Doctor Aldersen & Mr. Robot, the false myth of progress and the overthrowing of the capitalistic pattern through divided personalities.

Mr. Robot, the much acclaimed American drama thriller, is a television series created by Sam Esmail and aired for the first time in 2015.

Plot

The series revolves around the miserable and lonely life of Elliot Alderson, a young security engineer, who works for one of the richest and most powerful corporations in the world, the E-Corp, through his own point of view, which is heavily influenced by his social anxiety and his chronic paranoia. One day, he is recruited by a mysterious anarchist known as Mr. Robot and joins his team of hacktivists known as fsociety. They plan to cancel consumer debt by destroying the data of the E-Corp (which Elliot calls “Evil Corp”) and to inspire a revolution that will ultimately lead to an equal distribuition of wealth and to the downfall of the capitalistic pattern.

A double first-person narrator

The story of the revolution is told through a first-person narrator, which is Elliot himself, and through his thinking process. Elliot, however, has serious dissociative disorder, anxiety and paranoia, resulting in each episode being one big paranoid delirium, and the viewer shuffles from reality to illusion, not knowing what actually happen and what was just product of Elliot’s mind. Nonetheless, Elliot perceives the viewer as a product of his mind, talking to him and talking to himself at the same time, so that the narrator and the viewer are one and the same, two parts of the same mind.

Although Elliot's mind and his imaginary confidant is already a division of his mind, this is not the only way his personality gets split up. In fact, later in the series, after finding out Mr. Robot is his (supposedly) dead father, his sister Darlene and his friend Angela see him talking frantically to apparently no one, bleeding and severely hurt. When asked what he was doing, he admits he was talking to Mr. Robot, his father, whom he pushed out of a window in a rage tantrum - as his conscience comes back, he finds out Mr. Robot is no one but himself, and that he threw himself out of a window during one of his manic episodes. So, Mr. Robot is Elliot's alter-ego: he's the unconscious, instinctive part of his soul, taking over his mind to make up for Elliot's inadequacy and introversion; unlike Elliot, Mr. Robot is bold, irreverent, loud, a born leader. A modern Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde scenario, where Elliot hadn't known he'd been the one to plot the downfall of capitalism out of interiorized spite and disdain for the utilitarian society.

Mr. Robot can be cold-blooded, tyrannical, hateful, harsh; he hurts Elliot and the people he loves. Not unusually Elliot shows his willingness to free himself from his alter-ego, resorting to morphine and several other expedients, and even to the strict regimen of prison (calling himself guilty of hacking and privacy violation), ignoring him when he appears, not letting him take control. However, Mr. Robot is controlling and an undeniable part of him, as cruel and destructive as he is, and he can never get rid of him.

Although Mr. Robot, with his merciless and fierce behaviour, represents Elliot’s opposite, he is still part of him. Not to mention, Elliot perceives Mr. Robot as his dead father, whom he deeply loved and cared for - Elliot relies on him and never actually shuts him down. Mr. Robot saved him on several episodes, and Elliot loves him, as twisted as their relationship is.

Other characters

Even though they’re not clinical cases, every character in Mr. Robot needs to be mentioned, even if briefly, in this article, because of their divided selves. As a matter of fact, characters in Mr. Robot don’t change - they’re anything but dynamic - but as the story goes on - so, as Elliot progressively understands what is going on around him - they reveal their real personalities, and their real intentions, which might be the complete opposites of what the viewer thought at the beginning of the series. The clearest example might be Tyrell Wellick, Elliot’s “rival”, who in the first two episodes shows his cold, detatched manners. When you first see him, you might think he’s the typical ambitious and merciless villain, all perfect and with a heart of stone.

In reality, as the story goes on, his façade falls, and he reveals his extremely emotional and moody personality, levelling this impassible, god-like villain to a simple, flawed human being.

Another example is Whiterose: professional, calm Chinese Prime Minister of State Security by day, fierce and fearless leader of one of the most powerful hacker groups in the world at night.

The real illusion: the false myth of progress

Elliot: You’re not real. Mr. Robot: Is any of it real? I mean, look at this, look at it! A world built on fantasy! Synthetic emotions in the form of pills! Psychological warfare in the form of advertising! Mind altering chemicals in the form of food! Brainwashing seminars in the form of media! Controlled isolated bubbles in the form of social networks. Real? You want to talk about reality? We haven't lived in anything remotely close to it since the turn of the century! We turned it off, took out the batteries, snacked on a bag of GMOs, while we tossed the remnants into the ever expanding dumpster of the human condition. We live in branded houses, trademarked by corporations, built on bipolar numbers, jumping up and down on digital displays, hypnotizing us into the biggest slumber mankind has ever seen. You'd have to dig pretty deep, kiddo, before you can find anything real. We live in a kingdom of bullsh*t, that even you have lived in for far too long. So don't tell me about not being real: I'm no less real than the f*cking beef patty in your Big Mac. As far as you’re concerned, Elliot, I am very real.

One can argue that one purpose of the TV drama is that of showing how Elliot’s mind is no more messed up than the society he lives in: Elliot’s delirium blends in so well with modern society that the viewer is not sure of the dividing line between the two. He always expresses his disappointment and dissatisfaction of our unjust, contemporary society; the way we’re being controlled, the way we’re not even conscious of our enslavement, the fact that progress and materialism have made us nothing but brainwashed lapdogs, the fact that only a small percentage of the population can actually call themselves rich, the fact that money overcomes relationships. And at the same time, it’s the same reality that allows us safety and control. Our society is divided as well.

The representation of the Middle Eastern world in Mr. Robot

In a show that clearly shows today's multi-faceted Western world, it is impossible not to show the very different Middle Eastern reality, and talk about it. The main character, although born and grown-up in America, is of mixed race, and his feelings and problems are based on the creator's very own experiences growing up as a Muslim immigrant.

The best representation, however, is given off by two other characters: Sunil and Shama, two hacktivists of fsociety fighting to destroy the Western system that continuously discriminates them, to avenge the failing American Dream their families wanted to pursue but failed because of America’s interiorized racism. Many developments this season were extremely direct critiques of President Trump and his supporters. In an episode, Shama and Sunil, on the run, are framed by the Chinese as Iranian terrorists and used as scapegoats to cover their evil actions. Elliot knows the two of them weren't part of any terrorist plan, but what he doesn't know is that the Chinese set them up to divert attention from their leader&apos;s political plans and drumming up public support for the unlikely candidate she is backing in the upcoming presidential election in an effort to sow chaos and discord: Donald J. Trump. And the worst thing is Elliot knows he's powerless, since the medias are already targeting them as terrorists and people will unlikely question it, helplessly falling into the propaganda hole. Nearly through the end of the season, Elliot finds the courage to visit Shama and Sunil's families to give out his condolences. The episode is one of the most sentimental and meaningful of the whole serie. “This country now blames Muslims for everything,” says Shama's father as he sorts through their belongings, as they're about to move out. “There’s no room for us here anymore.” But later on, as Elliot decides to kill himself by the shore, he meets Mohammed, Shama&apos;s little brother, who asks for a trip to the movies. While there, Elliot recreates with Mohammed the same memories he once had with his own father, but the movies are his memory lane, not Mohammed's. The boy runs away, and Elliot finds him praying in the mosque, the happy place he and his sister grew in. There, they have a meaningful conversation — Mohammed calls Elliot out on his suicidal tendencies and on the Western society’s individualistic pattern (”Why do you always talk about yourself?”), and Elliot understands he has something to live for. Maybe for the first time, we don't see a place of indoctrination, but a loving place to go to find hope —and so Mohammed says: “Did you know I could be President of the United States? My sister couldn’t be. She wasn’t born here. My mom and dad couldn’t either. I’m the only person in my family who could be President. Isn’t that cool? If I were President, I would be able to stay here. In the house we live in. I would find a way to bring back my sister. I’d put the real bad guys in jail. And I’d make everyone eat Pop Tarts for dinner. And make everyone be nice to me.”, and Elliot realizes there are still things left that are worth living for.

[kwackdoctor]

Progress Note #2: How to love yourself

Today, for the nth time, I have googled “how to love myself”. It’s that time of the month, I think, that I get depressive thoughts, suicidical really, but I still try to fight for myself and try to save me. Just a little background, when I was in high school, I had suicidal notes – plans to kill myself, notes of goodbyes to my parents. To this day, I still remember the look of hurt of my mother when she read it. She was hurt, betrayed and scared at the same time. Right there I realized that my problems wont go away along with me, it will stay with the people left behind. So at that moment, I promised whenever these thoughts visit, and they often do, that I will fight for myself. A bit ironic, isn’t it? Negating the thoughts of killing myself. But it really happens, you really cant control these thoughts. I have thought about getting professional help, but I think im not ready to scare my parents again. So im doing a “self-help”. So while I was researching, I came about a website by marc and angel and they list down a few tips on how to love yourself. So today, I will try to do that.

“because the greatest struggle in life is the struggle to accept, embrace, and love ourselves, with all of our imperfections”

it seem so easy. I mean, I love myself. But do I really KNOW myself for me to love it?

I was making plans with my best friend, telling him our plans of travelling together when this academic thing is over. I was telling him of not getting married early because I was scared of being alone. When his replied shocked me, he said, “Learn to love your company, be your own bestfriend”. GUYS. My own bestfriend, telling me to be my own bestfriend. Was he trying to break up with me? But it hit me hard. I SHOULD REALLY LOVE MYSELF. But how?

“We have to learn to be our own best friends beciase sometimes we fall too easily into the trap of being our own worst enemies. We love the idea of others loving us, and we forget to love ourselves.”

Start telling yourself what you love about yourself.

Well, this is hard. You know what’s easy? Telling myself what I hate about myself. But let’s try this exercise. I have watched a series wherein they also did this but they only listed 5 things, so I will try that.

I love my height

I love my cheerful and optimistic side (even though it is tiring sometimes)

I love how I can make people laugh

I love my kilay

I love my dimples

Be one with what is

It says in the website, “ giving up on being perfect and beginning the journey of becoming your true self”. Well, that’s easy. I am not perfect. I know that. Again, I can list all of my imperfections in 10 minutes unlike exercise 1 which took my 30 minutes to list 5 things. face palm

but being one with what is, it’s kind of difficult to understand. Being okay with yourself. Isn’t that settling? Isn’t that going below average? But maybe I am the average and being myself is okay. Well, we will update on this because I am also confused on the matter HAHA

Focus less on winning the approval of others

Okay, this is difficult. We live in a world where every aspect of your life is posted on social media. Every event in your daily, mundane life is recorded. How the hell do you stop trying to get approval of others? Whenever I post something, someone is always there to comment – be it bad or good. Maybe I should get a social media hiatus, right?

“Your time on this planet is precious:

“What you do today is important, because you are exchanging a day of your life for it”

“Don’t wait around for someone else to give you permission to live”

Sooooo, if I sleep all day, what does that make me? Still important. I think I shouldn’t be bothered by what people think about my itinerary. I will do whatever makes me happy. #sleepislife

Distance yourself from those who bring you down

Wait, what if I don’t know those people? Should I know them?

“Being in a relationship is better than being in a wrong one” – OH SNAP, that hit me. I have been with this guy for a long time now (hello 7 years), and I still don’t see any progress with our relationship. Should I see progress? But I still don’t have the guts to let him go. I still love him. But in most times, we just aren’t in sync. I don’t know what to do with it, though.

“Know your worth” – still trying, I am so sorry.

“Quality over quantity” – ah, this I have done right. I think. But sometimes, I still feel like I was choosen last. You know those scenes in the movie, where the captain chooses their team mate? I always feel like I was the last one choosen. Maybe because they have been together longest? Or maybe because I don’t speak the language? Or maybe because of who I am as a person. But I don’t really blame them, I guess it’s my fault.

Forgive your past self.

I’m not so sure about this. I don’t really have a past to forgive on. Or do i?

(I just realized how long this list is, so I will try to be more concise)

Start making the changes you know you need to make

WHAT CHANGES?

“Just because something made you happy in the past doesn’t mean you have to keep it forever” – this is him again. I think. But but but, he still makes me happy. Sometimes. Yea, im stupid that way.

Embrace the mistakes you haven’t even made yet

This looks fun. “Don’t let the fear of making the wrong decision prevent you from making any decision at all”

Well, the thing is, I keep making the wrong decisions.

Show gratitude for who you are and what you have right now.

I am very grateful with what I have right now. I know there are a lot of people less fortunate that I am, and I am very much grateful for what I have. But sometimes, I really can’t control my jealous type. They have like this, they go to this, and whatever. But I keep telling myself that what I have now is more than enough and I shouldn’t feel bad about it. It’s an everyday struggle, but I know what I have.

I have always thought that I could get anything I want as long as I put my mind to it. But there are things that I really can’t have. That makes me angry and want to throw a tantrum but I realize that I am too old for that sht. I have to learn to accept these things, however hard it seems.

“There are lots of people who will never have what you have right now. So use pain, frustration and inconvenience to motivate you rather than annoy you. You are in conttol of the way you look at life.”

I will accept these things.

No matter how hard it is.

It’s a hard pill to swallow, so man up, self!

Do something every day that makes you happy

What if nothing makes me happy anymore?

“Life is short”

“Invest in the activities you deeply care about”

“You have to experience life on your terms before you can be life-giving to others”

I really need to get a hobby. Any suggestions?

Give yourself a fair chance to explore new ideas and opportunites

But how?

Hobbies. Interests. What.

Listen to your intuition and be honest with yourself about everything

Now, this is what this blog is all about. Being honest with myself. You see, I haven’t been honest with a lot of people in my life. I told lies to be interesting. I had to keep up with it. But then I realized, I don’t really have to do that. Fuck what people say, this is me. If you don’t love me, then leave. (I hope I am this confident in real life).

“Confidence comes from knowing that what youre doing is right, and that what you’re doing is right for YOU”

Believe in your abilities.

Focus in writing your story, instead of reading, watching, and hearing about everyone else’s

I feel like I have been doing this at some point of my life. I guess, my life was so boring I had to make it a bit interesting by watching others. But I realized again, that this was wrong.

Pay close attention to your life as you’re living it

This is what I am also practicing. Being in the present. Maybe because of my work that I have missed a lot of stuff happening in my loved one’s lives, but now I will try to be there. To be present. I used to ask myself whenever someone invites me, “what will I do there”. Today, I will answer myself with “Just be there, be present.”

Loosen up and be a little less serious about it all

I guess what’s good about me is that I don’t take it all seriously. Most of my friends can attest that. But I guess there are certain aspect in life that you should take seriously. Differentiating them is the lesson life gives you.

“people with good sense of humor have a better sense of life” REALLY NOW

Lastly, (thank God), Go out of your way to be loving and kind to others too

Heh, this is hard. I have been known to be maldita and judgemental. How do I stop?

“people who love themselves come across as very caring, generous, and kind to others too”

so today, I will try to be loving and caring. It is hard. But I will really try to go out of my way to do this. I hope everyone does, to make this life a better place.

Parting thoughts: Start looking at yourself more. Notice yourself more. Eventually, you’ll realize you love yourself more. You have nothing else, but yourself, so you really don’t have a choice. I know I will do the same. This will be my self-help blog for loving myself. I will keep you posted on my “progress”, if there’s any.

Cheerios.

[seesgood]

once upon a time, her name was PHEME. goddess of fame. gossip. renown. she’d been known far and wide for being able to take down anyone with the power of a scandalous rumor or two. people feared her. people respected her. and then zeus screwed it all up. ( but didn’t he always? ) though at the end of the day, she adapted to life on earth rather easily. quickly. mostly for the fact that humans were so much more interesting than her fellow gods. there was scandal, intrigue, mystery --- a whole world stuffed full of gossip worthy news. down here, she poses as CAROLINE FORBES, a TWENTY-FIVE year old GOSSIP COLUMNIST.  though most of her time is spent sniffing out stories, enacting her personal brand of revenge on those that she feels has wronged her ( or anyone, really ) she does spend a decent amount of time hanging around her family, picking at them for details of when they think this particular temper tantrum of zeus’ may end and they can all go home.

n o t e s.

⟶ is the worst at keeping secrets, though she vehemently denies it and quite honestly has no idea  ⟶ she’ll always be sniffing out gossip or dirt, even if someone doesn’t have any, she’ll pick at them until she finds something ⟶ can definitely be annoying, but there’s nothing she wouldn’t do to protect her family ( at least those that she likes )  ⟶  is beyond fascinated by human life and culture. especially when it comes to the types of scandals that mortals involve themselves with ⟶ a total social media addict, she loves it, she thinks it’s the greatest thing humankind has done since they made alters for the gods they most feared  ⟶ can be very self centered and shallow, but is mostly just deeply insecure and sometimes lonely. she desperately wants to have the kind of ‘epic love story’ that so many of her family members have. but for now, she’s more than content with just setting matches to see what will burn

c o n n e c t i o n s. 

⟶ grace / eris ( @preternatvrals ) --- probably the closest thing she has to a friend. grace usually ends up giving her dirt to gossip about, and during their weekly cosmo and gossip meet up, they’ve been known to get into all sorts of trouble.  ⟶ arthur / ares ( @lcstpaths ) --- oddly enough, the only one that can bring her any form of peace. she has a soft spot for him, though she can’t really explain why. she does love him though, in the kind of quiet / soft way that she doesn’t often let people see. ⟶ elena / persephone ( @girlgraved ) --- she’s always always always been insecure and jealous of the goddess, though she’ll never admit it aloud or admit why. but mostly it’s because elena’s always had the best of both worlds. doting husband, epic love story, beauty, grace, adoring worshipers. in her own way she guesses they’re friends, though she’s not sure the other girl would agree.

[remilisce]

☁

send me a symbol for…

☁  five times my muse has thought about yours, and the one time they do something about it.

one. 

a night out with his friends is always desired. it’s only fun and more fun. however, the topic of high school graduation was sensitive for remi. and it was brought up. remi’s features slowly faded while his glass could be seen continuously tipping up to his lips. he stayed quiet. not really wanted to put in his input in, nor was he truly focused on the topic. he fell into his thoughts. jessica. they knew each other for only a week and a half and yet, he keeps being reminded of her——of her smile, her eyes, her smell, her shy laughter whenever he’d compliment her on something she’s insecure about, and her comfort touch. he wonders ‘what could’ve been’ if things didn’t happen the way they did. but would he still be the man he is today if she stayed?  “ remi? “  a friend called out to him with concerned features. he was quick to shake off the suspicion with his goofy smile.  “ oh sorry, i’m trying to think if i left the oven on again. “  and with a laugh, the night went on. but the memory of jessica jung lingered.

two. 

it was a day where he demons where more evident then ever. they wouldn’t let him sleep, or focus on work. they couldn’t let him leave the house without having a breakdown. it was that season. the season where the end of summer approaches and trees begin to dwindle. the season of his parents tragic accident. remi didn’t have the appetite to eat nor the desire to drink. he wanted to sleep. he wanted the pain to stop — he just wanted to sleep. his parents weren’t the only ones haunting him that day. he tried smacking his head to get her out but nothing worked. he was reminded of that beautiful smile—and how it faded into the dark. he rocked on his bed like he was losing his mind. ‘they all left you. they all left because OF you. they’re never coming back and it’s all your fault.’  “ STOP IT! “  remi cried out in a yell with hands gripping together so tight they shook. the cry was useless as it didn’t stop.  “ it’s all your fault! “  he yelled back.  “ it’s all your fault, jessica! “  he needed someone to blame.  “ you did this! you—— “  his whole body quivered with both anger and sorrow. the blame was pointless as it didn’t fool his demons. nor did he fool himself. out of frustration, he grabbed the nearest object, that happened to be his phone, and threw it at the wall with all of his strength. he didn’t care that it shattered. he didn’t need a phone. he needed her.

three.

every soft brunette korean he saw, his heart nearly jumped from his chest. which is a lot since he lives in korea. it was a mistake meeting jessica again. he always prayed he would, but now that he has, she’s the only thing on his mind. anyone who was mildly similar to her height and hair colour, he jumped for the bushes. after yelling at her, calling her names, kissing her, how could he face her? he wanted to believe that, but every time it wasn’t her walking in the street, or shopping in the mall, he was disappointed. although, what was worst, he now thought of what she’ll like ; would she wear this dress? does she prefer meat or maybe she’s a vegan? before, she’d only pop up in his mind through certain scents or auras, but now, she’s the only thing he thinks about.

four.

remi tossed and turned on his bed. an exhale breathing out every few minutes before he threw a tantrum in annoyance ; a pillow landing on the floor. he couldn’t sleep. there was something on his mind and he didn’t know what. he came to an acceptance with the fact he won’t be able to sleep unless he figures out what’s on his subconscious, or, if he’s exhausted enough. so he played on his phone. an hour past by and he ran out of things to check on social media. another attempt was made to sleep but he was back on his phone within twenty minutes. but this time, it triggered something.  ‘ is your phone necessary when i’m here? ‘  his lips immediately tugged into a smile at the memory. of course. who else would keep him up besides jessica jung? a sigh left him, although the smile stayed. his phone was slid back onto the nightstand. naturally, his brain produced the happy memories they shared. however, majority of their time spent together was spent in a hotel room. a smirk begun to be evident on his features. he didn’t like remembering those times simply because he was younger then; less experienced — less HIM. he identified more as a girl then. the thought of it made him cringe. although he wasn’t really thinking about him and it certainly wasn’t long before he slid his hands beneath the covers to deal with an ever-growing problem.

five.

for once, remi isn’t doing anything illegal. it was a ‘normal’ day. a few of his friends came over to play video games and enjoy each others company. one friend had to bring his girlfriend, which turned the hangout into a gross puppy love scene. it also limited their vulgar conversations about girls. the couple was quickly excluded to the other side of the living room to avoid the topic of love, but it inevitable introduced itself into conversation ; first love. when was everyone’s first love, or if they’ve even experienced it before? a familiar face came to mind.  “ no. “  was remi’s immediate response but a shy smile peaked through. his friends took notice and quickly jumped onto the opportunity. all of the sudden, remi was surrounded while being gently pushed on the shoulder.  “ tell us! “  they chanted.  “ who was it? “  a smile tore from ear-to-ear now on remi’s face before covering his face with his hands, letting out a loud sigh.  “ it was a long time ago, alright? i was 17. “  the age earned an ‘ooh’ from the crowd and a blush was noticed on his cheeks.  “ she was korean. i met her on a trip to america. “  another round of ‘ooh’s has remi curled up into the arm of the sofa. he was embarrassed, but he loved the warm feeling he got in his heart from remembering jessica.  “ and she stole my heart in two days. “

six. 

remi stood before his full length rectangle stand mirror in a tailored suit. he heard suits were suppose to make him feel great about himself, but it did the exact opposite. jessica made this suit. it fit perfectly. there wasn’t a blemish on it. and that brought sorrow to him. he never had to see her again. the suit was perfect. they were completely out of each others lives once again. isn’t that what remi wanted? he wanted closure—the reason why she left him—and he got it. but that’s not what he wanted after all. he wanted another chance. he walked to the nightstand and grabbed his phone, dialing the number of the clothing shop before taking a seat on his bed. his leg shook in anxiousness. when the line was picked up, his back straightened to perfect posture ; he cleared his throat before speaking.  “ hi, uhm— the suit i got from you guys doesn’t fit. i’d like to return it and get it altered better. w-with the same seamstress, please. “  “ who was your seamstress, sir? “  “ ———jessica jung. “

[adderallmaster]

Anxiety Is in Your Body

Why you might want to stop talking about your anxiety and try this instead: taking  Valium 10 mg for anxiety or for sleep is something most people in the United States do on a daily.

Let’s back up 50,000 years or so. Imagine you’re a Neanderthal taking a leisurely stroll through the fields. Suddenly, in the nearby bushes, you hear a tiger. In a nanosecond, your entire body starts reacting. Your pulse quickens, your breathing gets shallow, your eyes dilate, your body starts producing adrenaline.

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Everything happening in your body is good; you’re prepared to survive this tiger encounter. There’s just one small problem. It wasn’t a tiger. It was a tiny prehistoric weasel. Now your body is primed for fight-or-flight, your heart is racing, you’re totally jacked up on adrenaline… but there is no danger.

This is your body on anxiety. Replace the (nonexistent) tiger in the bushes with social media, traffic, politics, Covid-19, money, childcare, climate change, work stress, family drama, and you can quickly see why anxiety is the most common mental illness in America, affecting nearly 20% of the population. Modern-day humans are basically a bunch of freaked-out Neanderthals in fight-or-flight mode 24/7.

“Anxiety is an impulse in our body that says, ‘I’m not safe right now,’” says Elizabeth Stanley, PhD, the author of Widen The Window: Training Your Body and Brain to Thrive During Stress and Recover from Trauma. “It’s automatic, really fast and unconscious.”

Your survival brain vs. your thinking brain

In her work, Stanley makes the distinction between the thinking brain, our neocortex, responsible for decision-making, reasoning, ethics, conscious memory, learning, and the survival brain — the limbic system, brain stem, and cerebellum — which handles our basic survival, emotions, implicit memory, and stress arousal.

One of the survival brain’s most important functions, according to Stanley, is neuroception, an unconscious process of rapidly scanning the internal and external environment for safety and danger. When danger is spotted, your survival brain sends an instantaneous stress arousal message to your body by turning on the sympathetic nervous system, resulting in the release of specific hormones that lead to certain physical sensations related to our heart, breathing, and digestion. “Whatever’s happening in the survival brain has these tremendous ripple effects through our body,” Stanley says.

As Stephen Porges, PhD, a psychologist and the creator of the Polyvagal Theory, explains in an interview with PsychAlive, “These responses are not voluntary. Our nervous system is picking up information in the environment, not on a cognitive level, but on a neurobiological level.”

Importantly, when we’re caught in a defensive response, the thinking brain is the last to be aware that something is wrong.“The thinking brain isn’t what decides whether we’re stressed, whether we’re feeling threatened or challenged, whether we’re going to turn stress on, whether we’re going to turn emotions on,” Stanley says. “Stress arousal and emotions belong to the survival brain.”

So if you want to track your anxiety, your body, not your thoughts, will be your most accurate map.

The talk therapy trap

Unlike our prehistoric ancestors (who might have dealt with anxiety by running, panting, or shaking like a dog and letting the cortisol work through their system, according to Stanley), modern anxiety sufferers turn to their trustworthy friend, their thinking brain. “Most people identify anxiety by their thoughts because most people identify with their thinking brain,” she explains.

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The problem is that when it comes to regulating our nervous system after a stress response (read: anxiety), our thinking brain is the absolute worst tool for the job. That’s because, according to Porges, even after becoming aware of the physical response, we often don’t know what has triggered that response. For Stanley, a veteran who was diagnosed with PTSD, this realization was a huge turning point. “Recovery from stress and anxiety is a survival brain job.”

We are a cerebral culture, which makes us very equipped to deal with problems that require reason and logic — think moral dilemmas — and less equipped to deal with problems where cognitive reasoning can just make them worse. Having a “fight or flight” response to running late to brunch may seem like an overreaction, but sitting in traffic, you are physiologically experiencing it all the same. We use our thinking brain to try and decide if the issue is “worth” being anxious about, and then we try to force our nervous system to comply. “Our consciousness gets disconnected from our body in those moments,” says Stanley. Your thinking brain decides that you have nothing to feel anxious about, so you spend your days walking around telling yourself that everything is fine while still feeling the physical symptoms of anxiety throughout your body. Even worse, your thinking brain may start to criticize and shame you for still being anxious even after it’s told you that everything is fine.

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If you, like me, have spent a few decades (and the equivalent of a house down payment) in talk therapy analyzing all the reasons you’re anxious, this is probably a hard pill to swallow. Not only did all that talking not do much to alleviate anxiety, but it could also even have made it more acute. “Our survival brain wants to keep us safe, but when we disregard our body and its signals because we’re so caught up in our thinking brain’s stories and thoughts, the survival brain actually perceives that as even more threatening,” says Stanley. “Like a toddler, it’s going to tantrum louder until its message gets through. And that’s why it becomes such a vicious cycle.”

Take, for example, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, one of the most common forms of talk therapy. According to the Mayo Clinic, “CBT helps you become aware of inaccurate or negative thinking so you can view challenging situations more clearly and respond to them in a more effective way.” Sounds great, right? While this kind of analysis could be profoundly helpful when dealing with family issues or working out an ethical question, when it comes to anxiety, which doesn’t take place in your thinking brain, it places the focus on the thought (“I thought there was a tiger!”) and not the physical response which preceded, and even caused, the thought (“my heart is racing and I’m full of adrenaline and I need tools to calm down”).

“We don’t necessarily want to be aware of and feel the discomfort in our bodies because anxiety in our bodies is uncomfortable. Instead, we want to try and fixate it and give it this external object,” explains Stanley. But if the external object didn’t cause the anxiety, then fixing it won’t alleviate the anxious feeling.

A bottom-up solution for anxiety

While talk therapy and medication are still the mainstream solutions offered for chronic anxiety, other modalities exist that offer a body-first approach. And while these modalities are still considered “alternative,” an increased interest in “brain science” and neurobiology along with continued research on mindfulness and mind-body connections are shifting our psychological understanding from focusing only on the mind to seeing the brain and body as a cohesive unit.

Part of the challenge, according to Pat Ogden, PhD, the creator of Sensorimotor Psychotherapy, is that you need to close the loop that was started when your body first went into a stress response. Ogden uses the example of a client who is Black and frequently stopped by the police without cause. When this happened, the man understandably felt himself getting angry and his body tightening up: a “fight” response. As part of their work together, Ogden helped him identify and act out the physical de-escalation his body needed in order to return to a regulated state, in this case getting to strike out and defend himself within the safety of a therapy session. “We want to complete that impulse in mindfulness so that his brain is integrated and it’s not held in his body anymore,” says Ogden.

Ogden points out that part of the limitation of talk therapy is that anxiety is often related to a dysregulated response connected to an implicit memory, which then gets incorrectly pinned on a current experience or thought. “It doesn’t have anything to do with the current content,” says Ogden.

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Stanley, who offers a mind fitness training course to help people build resilience, focuses on mindfulness techniques. And while at this point it’s a cliché to tell anybody with anxiety to take 10 deep breaths, her course has helped thousands of people, including active-duty military. “The military is very experienced in stressful situations, and they’ve trained themselves to turn on the survival brain but don’t always know how to turn it off,” says Stanley. Studies funded by the Department of Defense showed that Stanley’s method significantly helped improve cognitive performance during stress, lower perceived stress levels, increase regulation, and foster a faster return to baseline after stress arousal.

When your body is having a stress response, the first thing is to become aware of objects that help the survival brain feel safe, like what you can see and hear. “One of the best ways to help the survival brain feel grounded is to bring attention to where our body is in contact with our environment,” Stanley says. She suggests focusing on the contact between your feet with the floor, or your body in your chair. As soon as the survival brain perceives groundedness and safety, it automatically starts the recovery process.

Obviously, when you’re caught in a moment of severe anxiety, trying to breathe deeply or be mindful can feel almost impossible. In those situations, what you need is to get the adrenaline and cortisol out of your system. Stanley suggests jumping rope or running up and down stairs. After 10 minutes, try a mindfulness exercise again.

Is there any role for talk therapy, or trying to think logically about your anxiety? Absolutely. But only once your body is regulated, Stanley says: “After we have helped our survival brain feel safe and stable, then we can work on our thoughts. Otherwise, our cognitive response continues to be biased by our stress and emotions.”

[ohsweetjoy]

εὐχαριστέω

Milestones to not be forgotten. Giving thanks often through the rough. Ramblings as I hope not to have these last six months be a blur.  I write with a heavy and light heart all at once. It is just past midnight and often my only reprieve for reflection despite the occasional moment while feeding without the distraction of my phone or some other consuming thought like what is for dinner or how to organize the nonexistent pantry.

Babies do grow up fast. I don’t think I am missing the moments but I am also highly distracted and pulled every other direction. Besides trying to keep the house organized and meal plan so we don’t eat burgers and pizza every week – wait we are… I blame covid – working to help Isaac in the best way possible and also remembering to put Waverly on her tummy. At 6 months and 16 days… no rolling yet, but quite close to doing it all on her own.. She can roll to her sides while on her back and sometimes on to her tummy but her arm gets stuck. She has learned to sit without the boppy or blankets supporting her just the days before Halloween. When she is tired she will fall over more, or as I have noticed her face look thinner, she must of grown taller the other day as she was toppling over a lot. Milestones milestones.. I don’t know if I am keeping track, so I am writing this as an addition to all the photos I share. Some words to go a long and hopefully they don’t get lost. She got her first two bottom teeth around 3 and a half months. And today I see the white line of her top left tooth which is why she never let me leave her last night. She doesn’t sleep without me and its been a struggle to accept this reality that I will be getting her to nap three times a day and every night with me and mostly only me. Thankfully she can sleep well in the car and I have mastered the art of running the air in the car just right if I stop at a stop light or even a quick porch pick up for things. I drive around Lacamas Lake often or some other back road. It has been nice to see the colors change compared to the smoke that ensued our air. There are days where the water is glass and I see the reflections of the trees and also the fancy homes overlooking the water.

Scotts been working at home in a small not so small place. His desk was originally going to be a changing table. There has been lots of stuff pushing around from organizing the garage to our room to the living room to the garage again, to our closet, to our dining room, and the garage again.. what a blessing it is to have a garage full of stuff.. is it junk.. am I saving this all for a rainy day… its raining now. Trying to be more minimalistic but its quite difficult. And any toy that catches the kiddos interest I find cheap or free… too many toys. Waverly watches Isaac often. She loves him so much. She giggles when I sing silly songs and when I blow raspberries on her face and when I brush my teeth.

She notices the smallest things like on a toy she finds the tag and promptly puts it in her mouth. Even other thing like a stuffed animal has a heart on it and she can see it and explore it with her fingers. She will do the scratching motion often. She will watch her hands and wave them at herself moving her wrist. She is still moving all her fingers at once but sometimes just her pointer finger. When she is hungry she pats her hand on her leg or something. When she is nursing sometimes she wants to play with my shirt or even other toy which can become distracting as she will end up putting the toy in her mouth instead of playing.

We have resorted to letting her watch some baby Einstein or her brother’s favorite the Grinch (new cartoon version). It allows me to get some things done like making Isaac’s meals or eating a meal myself. I’ve been busy with zoom meetings for Isaacs schools and therapies and I even quit some of his therapies for now because I just can’t keep up.

We quit the Applied Behavioral Analysis (ABA) therapy he was in and the preschools. We tried remote preschool which did not work for Isaac at all and we tried another preschool we paid for but they aren’t designed to support his needs so I was sending my caregiver with him but she isn’t trained as a Para educator so it really wasn’t the best fit. We finally have a good place for him and I hope for the best. I hope it’s not too good to be true and I am also praying that there isn’t another lock down / stay at home. I never thought I would be fighting for inclusion this early. Isaac is going to a gen ed preschool with EOCF and the school district will be sending a teacher or an aid for special needs to support him and possibly other students there.  Isaac will have support of school district physical, speech, and occupation therapy – which I am opting for more email pointers and not more zoom meetings. A zoom meeting with Waverly in the background is chaotic. We are also looking into in home ABA which has led to more zoom meetings but I think it will be helpful to help bring some of the things Isaac was learning home. More often he won’t use the sign or skill that he was doing at therapy at home, but he would at my parents’ house or somewhere else. We are hoping to get his communication more consistent whether it is verbal words or signs or even picture cards.

Isaac seems much happier at school (EOCF) and has been laughing more and has other sounds. I really try and focus to have positive perspectives and to listen to him. We had an ABA zoom meeting and the analyst was asking if Isaac was having a temper tantrum and I honestly never look at his grumblings in that light.. like he was but it was short lived and since his words or minimal I have trained to kinda guess what he would be saying.. and think that maybe if he could say these things he wouldn’t be yelling or grumbling as he was.

I would love to live in a different house with a bigger kitchen and an actual pantry. I have turned our coat closet into a pantry. Found some pantry moths a week or so ago and around the same time our sink backed up when the washer would drain. It was pretty gross and it left us with some piles of dishes. We often joke that we are going to set the kitchen on fire. Counter space gets limited and my oven temp isn’t accurate. My fridge freezes. All this things are first world problems.. It is always interesting to try to battle the perspectives from what I might what or desire or what do I complain about. I was going around the house praying that this place continues to be a blessing despite all its issues. This is a place that gave us some freedom from my parents, which was a needed separation. A blessing of nice neighbors mostly despite the note I got from the “hearthwood gang” (definitely some teen/early collage age girl’s handwriting).

On my walls I put reminders up of having a proper perspective. It is trendy to put up what you’re thankful for on social media during this November. Being thankful shouldn’t just be the month of November.. It should be every day. Daily thanksgiving. Eucharisteo. It is hard in a world where many are entitled and even more so with what media pushes. Thanking God for his gifts is something I am continually taught especially in this strange year..

2020 is a hard year for many. I hate covid and I hate masks. At least less people think I am crazy for having a home birth. This place where I birthed Waverly, in the bathroom of all places and six months later, is it all a blur? Sometimes it feels that way. Other times I could give a moment play by play perhaps even the most cringy first days of learning to feed her and being over tired. My brain soaks things in and I don’t forget things often---except where I put my phone 5 minutes ago. Pursuing clarity of mind between postpartum sleeplessness and pain from birthing and from nursing is quite difficult and then seeing the depth of grief arising that I never expected. To be experiencing the newborn stage with Waverly and to be grieving that I never had that with Isaac – or that I had it for so long in a very different way..

I don’t have the grief others have. I am blessed to have both my babies and I pray for their health and safety often. My mind is the worst and I blame the television shows I watched as a child.

This year has faded down to the holidays and I think it was the most intentional year yet in some ways. I have made it a point to see at least one person a week if not more. Seeing others and having play dates and walks has been vital to staying sane. I am not sure what I would have done without the different friends I have come to know. I miss the ones I rarely see and even the ones I have lost. Seasons of friendships and groups have become a reality with differing perspectives and I struggle to understand sometimes. I know God has a reason in it all and I try to hear him in the leading. I have learned the hard way of not reaching out so perhaps I might do it too much. I try and give space but other times I think that if they are brought to my mind, it is for a reason. I took to the fb Christian mom group and found some good advice that gave peace for my lost friendships – “God brings people into our lives. Some only for a season and a reason. So give her to God and let go. I know it is hard to say bye to friendships but a real friend would respond. So again the season of you and her being friends seems to be over. Something better could be waiting for you but you just need to let go and be able to receive the something better. If your hands are full you cannot receive anything.” “You deserve friends who are just as excited to connect with you as you are with them!” “You should know your worth, you need friends who love you and want YOU for you! It’s hard. But sometimes God closes doors to open up new ones.”

This is also encouraging as God has brought many new friends into my life these past two years. Some friendships I have now are in similar seasons with young kiddos and others with no kiddos and others much older than I am and I am blessed to be learning from all these different women. 

In these last six months I have had many people help us and I am so grateful. Watching Waverly grow is amazing and shocking. There are things she is doing that Isaac didn’t do until last year.. I strive not to compare but it is inevitable especially as I will begin to let her try some foods soon. She stares as me when I eat and copies mouth movements when she sees Scott eat. There has been a time or two where I look for a tube on her belly like something is missing. We have a love hate relationship with Isaac’s tube. It’s a blessing but it is tough. I am glad Isaac eats purees orally and now he can be around other kids eating twice at school and then eventually at home with his sister. I really need a meal plan for us so I can prep and cook dinner quicker and we can all eat together at the table. Right now its rounds where Isaac eats, then I make dinner and eat, and then Scott puts Isaac to bed and then he eats.

No real end to this rambling of thoughts and jotting down of milestones. I soon need to sort through the 50 gigs of photos and videos I have on my phone before I end up needed to pay for more cloud storage. What will it be like for the kiddos to see photos of themselves, so many, almost a daily picture. Well I have written what would be two pictures. Perhaps I will find some photos I like from these last weeks..

Don’t forget, Eucharisteo. Give thanks to God in all things – see His grace for you, his gift to you, and find His joy. Eucharisteo in mind has kept me whole in broken many moments and helps my hearts cry to choose joy.