#anxiety tw

[gmabrams]

I find it so funny that people are dubbing lifting the bottom of your shirt up as "pulling a Gracie"... I'll admit I get caught doing it in front of paparazzi a lot, but it's more of an anxiety, fidget thing. I need my hands to be doing something, what do you think I play guitar for? I'm curious to hear any habits of yours, good or bad, I won't tell a soul. @sbhqstarters

[mysharona1987]

[destinygoldenstar]

What Separates Digital Circus’s Horror From Others

Disturbing.

Unnerving.

TERRIFYING.

BUT WHY?!

On the surface to the… five people that never watched The Amazing Digital Circus Pilot, this show looks like a Five Nights At Freddy’s knock off.

It’s a cute mascot show that is actually secretly a horror monster infested world.

Even people who haven’t seen FNAF at least seen a few clips of it and what it’s famous for. I know I have.

My sister is super into this, and she hogs the TV, so… RIP me.

That’s what most non-horror stans usually view horror as.

The jumpscares.

The unnerving imagery.

The designs made to freak out the viewers and make them uncomfortable.

It’s usually quite obvious when something is a horror, cause these aspects are often front and center. You can usually tell it’s a trailer of a horror movie by just looking at it.

At least, from my, a non-horror lover’s understanding. For some reason these sorts of things, especially indie animated ones, are the faces of a lot of content farms.

If the product itself isn’t r@%ing your audience, it’s those.

(TAKE MY WARNING AND TAKE IT SERIOUSLY: IF YOU VALUE YOUR MENTAL HEALTH AND YOUR SANITY, DO NOT LOOK UP THIS MOVIE)

BUT BACK ON SUBJECT.

Digital Circus… doesn’t really have this stuff.

There’s no jumpscares.

(I mean there is in a trailer, but it’s used as a joke.)

The character designs are very cute looking without any alternate versions that are scary.

And the imagery of the show remains cute and fun all throughout. The darkest it gets is in a realistic looking office.

But there are no jumpscares in that scene.

It’s just… a normal office.

If this was a horror, then perfect opportunity, right?

So… what’s going on here?

This, my friends, is why Digital Circus is not your typical indie animated horror flick.

And why people even call it ‘scary’ at all.

Here’s the trick this show uses.

It’s not the imagery.

It’s not the designs.

It’s not even intentionally trying to scare you.

Caine is not intentionally trying to scare the audience. He’s just acting like an A.I.

Yeah he has SOME unnerving moments.

But compared to THIS:

I’d say Caine is pretty tame.

Maybe it’s an indicator that he’s secretly a monster like the Other Mother in Coraline.

That horror flick is about the host lying to the protagonist and revealing their horror-like appearance later on.

But not only was it confirmed that Caine is NOT evil. But look at his design right away and his presentation.

There is no sign so far that he lies about anything. At least not what he doesn’t know.

Yes he lied about the exit. But the exit ITSELF was the thing that sent you to the VOID. So really he kinda tried to protect them.

If he didn’t, he’d let jester girl eject herself like Among Us.

So why is it unnerving?

Because it’s the POV we the audience are in for most of the episode: Pomni.

Pomni is an Audience Surrogate.

Audience Surrogates are characters designed specifically to be a placeholder for the audience.

People usually assume this trope as the character made to be the bland and generic one. But that’s actually not true.

An audience surrogate can be as simple as a First Person POV. As all it means is that the character is designed to have the same reactions the audience would in the situation they would find themselves in.

Course, not speaking for everybody, but majority that would consume the content.

Thus, with Pomni as the audience surrogate, we the audience are thrusted into her shoes the whole time. We feel the fear she does. We are experiencing the circus the same time she does.

Notice the editing in some scenes. Specifically the scenes Pomni is NOT in.

When Pomni is in a scene, there’s usually some change in lighting or camera movement that’s unnerving.

But when she isn’t in a scene, these editing moves aren’t there at all.

Which makes it pretty easy to suggest that these unnerving edits are just what’s going on in Pomni’s head.

So with that, when she’s scared. We’re scared. We’re in her POV.

But she’s scared all the time. That’s just her average personality, right?

Then why make these specific edits?

Let’s think about this:

This character is trapped in a world that isn’t her own. Everything is unusual, and she wants out. But instantly realizes there’s no escape.

And then gets told this is her new home and her new body.

A home she doesn’t recognize. And a body she doesn’t even know the name of.

She lost all sense of identity in an instant. Losing everything about herself in an instant. To the point where she can’t even remember what she was before.

And to make matters worse, because this is unusual, everything SEEMS terrifying. Even to those trying to help her adjust.

The only way out of such a confusing and terrifying world is to escape. Which is what she tries to find the entire time.

So THEREFORE:

The horror is this show is NOT the jumpscares or the creepy images.

The horror is THE VIEWER’S MIND.

This show constantly destroys your mind and breaks you through Pomni.

The idea of losing everything about yourself and being trapped in something unfamiliar forever. That IS terrifying.

If you were in this situation, you’d probably freak out even if you were the bravest being ever.

So it’s not about how scary the scene is on the outside.

It’s about what you’re THINKING that’s scary.

Ragatha’s distress monologue is not scary on the outside. But if you actually take into consideration what she says.

THATS terrifying.

That toys with your mind. And it also toys with Pomni’s.

The monster figure in the episode, the abstraction, is nowhere near as scary as something from FNAF

At least in my opinion.

Especially seeing what the monster does.

It can’t kill you. You’re just glitched.

Or maybe it CAN kill. But we never see that.

Even if Pomni ended up like Ragatha, Caine would’ve eventually came back, found them, and fixed them. And they would’ve been fine.

But then, rather out of nowhere, she STOPS.

And we get this shot.

I talked about this shot before. Said it quickly became one of my favorite shots in media.

This is why.

This shot makes me queasy every time.

The idea of looking in a mirror and not even being able to process or recognize yourself. Unable to even process your own reflection, that’s how unrecognizable you’ve become.

That’s horrifying.

And there’s no dialogue here either.

The episode effectively uses SHOW DONT TELL.

They SHOW you how scary the situation is. They SHOW you a single image that tells you everything.

It would’ve been so easy to just have Pomni say “I’m scared. I don’t recognize myself. Who is this person looking back at me?”

But no

They DON’T insult their audience.

They don’t TELL you.

They let you sink it in yourself.

Pomni doesn’t even have ANY lines after she goes through the exit door. And yet the shots after that with her have been plastered everywhere. Why? Cause she doesn’t need to tell you her mental state. You’re SHOWN it.

Can someone PLEASE tell the live action Avatar The Last Airbender that?!

Speaking of the office scene. This is the only moment in the show that looks… real. Not that cartoony.

Which I guess being in a setting that’s off putting from the rest makes it creepy, right?

Well not really.

Sure she’s running through rooms that seem to be repeating, which that of itself is sanity breaking. It reminds me a lot of another existential horror: The Stanley Parable.

But while that game is excellent and the monologue that plays in that ending is one of my favorites, it IS just telling you the sanity of the player.

Not that there’s anything wrong with this in that games style. There’s no other way that could’ve been done in that game.

Here, again, there’s no dialogue. It’s just Pomni running through these desperate for the exit.

The scary part about this is that we KNOW the absolute DESPERATION she has.

Even if we couldn’t see her face, that’s still across because we’ve seen it the entire episode.

And then there’s her break.

She snaps at the sight of a desk, and gets fangs, that of a FNAF character. But only for a second. She doesn’t even go out at the camera with them. She goes on her merry way.

But Pomni, being the POV character, really doesn’t have much to be scared at about her.

So why is this terrifying? Why not go all the way if this is supposed to be a jumpscare?

Well cause it’s not.

A way to scare your audience is to make them feel dread. Lingering longing dread. Sometimes irrational dread.

People with anxiety especially get scared at things even when they’re completely safe. They feel an unease in their stomachs. They feel unable to move. Unable to speak. Unable to put it into words at all.

It could be because we saw something unnerving that stays in our subconscious. It could be because we’re nervous about something coming up. It could be because we’re in an uncomfortable situation.

Either way, anything even remotely resembling that triggering thing can break someone to feel this anxiety. Sometimes even something as simple as the dark. Even if we know we’re completely safe.

(Speaking as a person with anxiety myself)

She only snaps and cackles when she sees a random desk with a computer. Which also has the headset she put on there. The thing that got her in this.

But you might not have even seen the headset on your first viewing. I didn’t.

But your subconscious sees it. The environment not being like the others aids in unnerving you and making it hard to process what you’re looking at.

Why is this terrifying? Why does it break you? Why does it mentally break Pomni? We don’t know. It just does.

We’ve been stuck going through doors in repeating rooms for hours.

Fear makes you not able to overthink it.

So all of that is build up to the near perfect shot of Pomni at the brink of snapping at the dinner table. With the others voices blurred in her mind. As all she can do is fake a smile.

Terrifying End.

It’s not scary because it’s scary. It’s scary because it toys with the character, and the viewer’s mind

Now, is Digital Circus the first media to do this technique?

No. Not at all.

One of the most acclaimed animated movies, Spirited Away, also uses these exact same tactics for example.

That’s obviously a master class at this tactic. And it scared me as a child as a result. For all these exact same reasons.

It’s not a horror. Not traditionally. It’s not trying to scare you. But it does anyway cause in your mind it’s a scary concept.

And also, well, Spirited Away is a completed story as of the time this post comes out.

And Digital Circus only has one episode. But we did get confirmation this would be a series. And I personally have high hopes that this brilliant tactic is kept. From the trailer, it does seem like they’re not forgetting the stuff I bring up here. So I hope this works out for the creators despite the drama and the internet BS surrounding this show.

But even if not, we at least get one case in this show where we all want to curl up in a ball and cry

Us too Pomni. Us too.

Thank you for reading my… analysis a ton of people made before me, and probably better. Happy day for you all.

[ceiwiart2]

Panic - A Steven Universe Fan Comic

First - Last - Next

[bugsnstuff313]

So i have this thing I refer to as ; The Dread ™

The Dread ™ is the feeling when your having a good time and all of a sudden it feels like weighted blanket of worry just laying on you. It just occurs, and you have no way to stop it besides ignoring it.

Some staples of The Dread ™

You feel paralyzed, you can't help your scenario.

You don't know the trigger and thus can't rationalize

Body feels like it has to move, fidgeting constantly

The feeling of someone watching you

BUT it's not any sort of attack (panic or anxiety) you just feel, off

The question now, is this a common thing and do ya'll have a term for it?

[blondebitch7k]

When did you start getting panic/anxiety attacks and whats the worst one youve ever had?

Well... this one's fun now isn't it

Okay, well I think the first one I could remember was when I was around six before getting kicked out of the orphanage I got yelled at and beaten up pretty bad, then being on the streets... I thought I was dying lol.

My worst one by far though was when I just woke up with my arm just- gone. I'd blacked out when it happened and didn't have any memory or explanation plus all the pain... I'd had dozens of bad panic attacks before, but that one was a whole different beast. Thankfully my love @goggles-varian was there and he called my down after like, idk a good half hour of shit? And we got some pain meds in me.

So yeah.... this was fun

Blonde bitch out! 💅🏳️‍🌈✨️

[mskwtz]

I’ve been in a really weird mind space lately regarding writing, particularly here on tumblr, and this has been a reason for my lack of posting.

I am not saying any of this for attention. Rather, I just want it to be known why I’m not here right now so it doesn’t seem like Courtney’s just being lazy.

I’ve been having a hard time for a while now and have been doing what I need to do in my personal life to adjust and fix that. I’m doing my best. It’s a process. I take a few steps forward by trying to get medications right and trying to figure out what I need to feel like I’m not drowning, but then I’ll have a really bad day or week and it feels like I’ve jumped back several steps. That’s the life of mental illness, which a lot of people in this community understand personally because I’ve seen people talk about their own struggles.

A lot of my bad days have had me feeling as though I’m struggling in all my friendships both irl and online, and that the content I am putting out here isn’t good enough. And while I recognize some of all of it is probably in my head, those feelings of not being interesting or funny or engaging enough makes it really really hard to focus on writing and discussing plots or ideas with others. It’s discouraging and it’s hard because that doesn’t fall on anyone else but me. I can have the hard conversations with my close friends in real life about feelings I’m having, but people online don’t owe me anything just like I don’t owe them anything. I love all my moots and writing partners so much. I consider myself friendly with anyone I write often with and plot with. But I also need to be better about understanding that not everyone is my friend. You can be friendly and write together and not be friends, even though I tend to lean towards friendships. When I sense that someone isn’t as into talking to me as I am with them, I pull back and as a sensitive person it hurts.

I’d like to think I’m very self aware. I know where my flaws are, I know what holds me back, but being self aware doesn’t fix the problem and I’m unfortunately at a place where I don’t know how to fix the problem just like that. The last time I felt similar to this, I deleted all my blogs. Every last one. All those posts gone. I regret that decision a lot, and I don’t want to do that again.

Without doing that though, I have to step back when I’m feeling not great so I don’t ruin this hobby for myself. I’ve been focusing on other hobbies like gaming and reading, but also hate to feel like me not being present here means I could lose people who I am friends with or that I’m letting those people down by not actively writing. It’s a double edged sword.

TLDR; I’m on an indefinite hiatus. I’ve been testing the waters on a new blog, fresh fandom that I’ve been hyper fixating on since reading the new thg book, but even there I’m not posting as much as I’d like to. I want to be here, but I also don’t want to force myself when I lack the energy. So we can say I’m here but I’m not here. I’m always on discord for those who have it and want to chat about whatever. Life, fandoms, plotting stuff for whenever I do have the energy to be on the dash or writing on discord itself.

[mudskip-memes]

Send "Just take a breath, alright?" to find receiver's muse in the midst of an anxiety attack

(Send "I can't breathe" for the receiver to find the sender's muse)

[chaeza]

Gladiolus

Gladiolus – from Latin word gladius, a sword. A perennial flower in the iris family. Given at funerals to honor the strength and integrity of the deceased.

Major Character Death, Spoilers, Rook goes by Rook and uses they/them pronouns, elf rook, grief, loss, mourning, alcohol consumption, disassociation, anxiety.

The chatter among the Veilguard, excluding Rook, faded as everyone went from the library to the kitchen. Rook sat in their chair, arms rested on either side, picking at the wood with their fingernails. The large doors that led to the fade shut behind their last departing companion with a reverberating thud. Footsteps – light and smooth – quietly approached them.

Emmrich patted the younger Watcher’s shoulder, urging them to join the rest of their friends. When they didn’t budge, he tried again. He gave them a gentle shake, which still didn’t work. Emmrich stood beside them, bending to one knee and leaning forward with the support of his staff so he could see their face.

“Rook?” Emmrich asked. “Rook, darling.” His voice was more stern, but still gentle. Placing a hand on theirs, he followed their gaze to the side of the bookcase where Lucanis stood minutes ago. He patted their hand, turning back to see them nodding gently, brows knitted together, focused. “Rook, are you alright?” He wasn’t sure they could even hear him. Emmrich was aware of Solas using blood magic to commune with Rook, but he didn’t exactly know what the Dread Wolf was doing to them outside of the times Rook willingly spoke to Solas during their meditations. The professor knew the fade well, but the intentions of a trickster god, and his capabilities, were not something he was well-versed in. He made a mental note to commune with the spirits later as he held Rook’s cold and clammy hand. He resumed matching Rook’s gaze, following their line of sight past the murals on the stairs, lingering just before the hallway to the infirmary.

Rook sighed, shaking their head to clear their mind, turning in their chair towards Emmrich, who was met with the same focused expression. Then, Rook’s face shifted quickly, as if Emmrich wasn’t allowed to see any of their less inspiring expressions. The older watcher’s lips were in a stern line, quickly wavering with a small curve in the corner of his mouth when Rook finally acknowledged him.

“Oh! Hello, love.” Rook said, squeezing Emmrich’s hand and becoming painfully aware that their own hands were icy cold. “Is everything alright?” They hoped they didn’t seem unwell. They only had a headache, and a slight pain in their chest, which they really couldn’t pinpoint the cause of in this moment. They offered a crooked smile, a reassuring squeeze of Emmrich’s fingers, the rings slightly digging into their hand.

Emmrich’s face was stern, analytical. He was looking at them like a problem he had to solve. This much they concluded. The intensity of his scrutinizing eyes made Rook more and more uncomfortable. They turned their head to hide the embarrassed blush that spread across their cheeks. Their pointed ears always gave it away though. Rook raised their eyebrows as they felt the grip of Emmrich’s hand fade. They turned to watch him stand upright, both hands on the staff, still looking down at them.

“You tell me.” He said, offering nothing more. A pause. Before the silence became any more awkward, Rook let out a sharp laugh, much to Emmrich’s dismay. Rook rubbed their hands on their pants and pushed themselves up. They rotated their wrists, a relieving cracking sound in their left one made them wonder if the noise was also the sound of Emmrich’s patience. Although he was ever the patient man, they really didn’t want to go down this line of questioning.

They were fine. The pain that swelled in the hollowness of their chest as they took in a shaky breath told a different tale. The hollowness grew from the first moment they confronted Solas in the fade. Every conversation with Varric after only filled it slightly, but the aching persisted after, and with renewed vigor. Rook had contemplated this each time, before ultimately deciding to distract themselves. There was plenty of distraction to go around these days.

“Come with me, Emmrich.” Rook said, sliding their hand into his and nodding towards the stairs. “We can discuss this in private.” They offered a small smile, purely performative, a peace offering. Emmrich returned with a much warmer, genuine smile. He hoped it broke through whatever mask they had put up. He hoped his eyes held a warmth that let them know they were safe to tell him anything. So, they walked hand-in hand to the meditation chamber, Emmrich stealing a glance to the infirmary door which hadn’t opened in days.

Upon entering the meditation chamber – Rook’s room – Rook deflated against the door, blowing out all the air left in their lungs. They sniffed, quickly going to the wardrobe and grabbing two glasses and some alcohol they found recently during the team’s travels.

“Would you like a drink?” Rook offered Emmrich a glass half filled with brown liquor. He politely declined with a raised hand and small shake of his head, careful not to disrupt the well coiffed formation. They shrugged, and downed the glass with one gulp. They hissed as they put the glasses and liquor back in the wardrobe, stifling a cough.

“I wasn’t aware you imbibed.” Emmrich said, though his tone made them aware he was curious. When did they start drinking? Why? Should they be?

Rook put their hands on their hips, responding with a breathy laugh. “It’s recent,” they said, “sometime after we got here. I just -” A sigh. They knew it was reckless. They knew better. “Everything is so much, and Varric…” A sharp pain, again. “Varric was-” A pause, as they rapidly searched for the right words. Their brain shuffled between two words as Emmrich inhaled sharply. He knew. Rook knew. They were stuck between the words “just” and “always.” Between describing what Varric had told them just nowin the library below, and what they remembered him always telling them during their months long hunt for Solas. “-just now telling me I need to trust you all…” The truth, then.

Emmrich nodded, hands laid on one another in front of him. He sighed, understanding, and reassuring. For a moment, Rook thought he was going to say “Ah, yes. I had a nice conversation with him the other day. It is truly remarkable the recovery he’s made in the weeks here!” He would be interested in seeing how the wound made by the lyrium dagger healed in the fade. He would be with Bellara and they would excitedly discuss their theories until Varric shooed them out of the infirmary, grumbling about mages and their weird shit. Instead, Emmrich, stepped forward and placed a hand on their shoulder.

“Rook,” was all Emmrich could say before the tears started flowing. Rook sobbed into his chest, loud and broken. The hollowness threatened to consume them. Emmrich embraced them, hugging tighter as their breath came too fast from choking on sobs. All Rook could hear was the throbbing of their own heartbeat in their ears, and the faint steady beat of Emmrich’s. They squeezed him tighter, knowing all too well this would not fix the hollowness inside them. Their breath slowed, and Emmrich stroked their hair and rubbed between their aching shoulder blades. They both knew this was a pivotal moment in mourning. The truth and acceptance of loss. Grief that hollowed out a hole the same size and shape of the departed in the hearts of the living. It could never be filled exactly, but it could heal, and honoring the dead was a balm. One that hurt like alcohol on a wound, but necessary.

Emmrich kissed the top of their head. It was a promise- one that told them they could stay like this as long as Rook needed. Their sobs turned into soft whimpers and sniffles before quickly rising to wails again. Emmrich wasn’t so different when his parents died, he thought about himself. A small pang in his chest as well, even after all these years. He closed his eyes and laid his cheek on their head, holding them close as he watched the fish lazily swim about the aquarium.

END.

Note: I lost my father June 2, 2024. I realized as I was writing this piece that it has been 6 months since he passed. I miss him greatly. So, naturally, I projected my grief onto Rook by having Varric be a father figure. Thank you for reading! posted on ao3 as well.

[a-whiff-of-a-dream]

alright this has been sitting in my mind ever since i first heard it a few days ago, but what Emmrich says about his fear of death in his first scene? It hit differently. Im gonna elaborate underneath the cut.

(also this might be too much personal info for some, but anyways)

'Thats when I discovered I possess a great terror of dying' is putting something I have felt for close to 3 years now so... precisely into words.

I have spend so much trying to find words for this feeling, for this fear, and have not yet managed to communicate it with anyone really so far, because the words have just... not been there.

'It goes beyond dread. It cant be reasoned with or soothed over. It comes without warning, in the dead of night, in sunlit streets. A raw, strangling fear, struck somewhere deep past the heart.'

It hides behind every corner of your life. You can go on with your day like any other person, you can be alone at home or out with friends, seeing the world, and suddenly youre hit with this 'someday it wont matter anymore and you wont feel this feeling and never smell the air again' and you cant outrun it.

Its something you cant change, something maybe not even worth mentioning because there is no way out anyways, so why bother and try to find a reason within it, when there is non to begin with?

'Oddly, I discovered I wasnt alone. I debated this fear with friends, I argued with teachers... Yet... It lingered.'

Others might feel the same, and yes its comforting to a degree, but still it wont make it go away. It wont make it better or unbearable somehow. Because its unreasonable. You know it is. Thats why Ive burried it so deep within me and try not to spiral into despair when these thoughts occure.

I am not really sure where I am heading with this but I guess I needed to get these thoughts out into the world somehow. Because hearing this, having it put into words so nicely? It helped. It made me shiver and it has lingered in my head for a while now, but it also gave me words for something I have not yet come around wording myself.

[mysharona1987]

[hiddencitywaters]

open starter- @hiddenstarters

Evangeline tilted her pink hair covered head as she looked the other over. She'd been staring off into the distance. in deep thought. it would seem she'd locked eyes or stared at the other person. "sorry I'm so in my head. I didn't notice you."

[nav1gating]

might be quiet ooc for a few days - i am struggling with bad anxiety rn and it's making it hard to reach out due to the fear that i'm 'annoying' etc ( bpd sucks tbh ). im sending you all the love i just might be more focused on writing than ooc for a tiny bit.

[onlyhams]

unfortunately I suspect that the one sure fire way to make one’s health anxiety prophecies come true is to not get something checked out 💕

[futurelabs]

Hello guys hope you are all doing well! Just bought hello kitty island adventure and was wondering if any of you play it? It’s pretty cool btw and I know there’s multiplayer 🫶

[seasalteds]

❀ you’re not from around here, are you? i figured because you totally just missed LARK HENDRICKS walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who SHE is? they kind of look like LAURA HARRIER and i could be wrong but i think that they might be THIRTY years old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last TWO YEARS. and i don’t know if anyone has ever told them this before but they kind of remind me of JESSICA PEARSON from SUITS. if you stick around the town long enough you might catch them in action working in PALMVIEW as the MAYOR’S ASSISTANT. you see this town isn’t really that big of a place, some folks like to call them the MAGICIAN of palmview! they took a liking to the name too after a while, go figure. oh crap, they must have heard me yapping. they’re coming this way. i got to warn you though, rumor has it they can pretty HYPERCRITICAL at times. i wouldn’t take it too seriously though, from the times i’ve spoken to them they seemed pretty METHODICAL to me. we see each other all the time since they live in that THREE BEDROOM apartment beside me over in OCEAN DRIVE. i better leave you to it. it was nice meeting you!

stats.

full name: lark annabelle hendricks.     nickname(s): lala (parents only), whatever julian decides to call her on any given day.     age: thirty.     date of birth: november 20th.     star sign: scorpio.     sexuality: bisexual.     hometown: palmview, florida.     occupation: assistant to the mayor.     favourites: forest green, charcuterie, red wine, stationery, matcha, green tea, reading, cocktails (good ones!), long distance running, early mornings, lilies, funny dog videos.

personality.

despite her poised smile and expertly blushed cheeks, whenever you speak with lark, it feels like you’re participating in a business transaction... and you’re on the back foot. she sees everything in facts and figures and is happy to respond to your worries and concerns with the most logical course of action, even if that isn’t necessarily what the other person wants to hear. in her defense, she believes that’s what others want – after all, it’s what she’d want, but of course not everyone thinks like lark, something she struggles to understand. she also struggles with relaxing. like truly, properly, letting go and relaxing. she can’t recall a time in her life (besides that which we shall not name) where she allowed her inhibitions to take full control and she just went with the flow. the flow is not where she belongs, in her eyes, the flow is just another thing she needs to take control of. on the flip side, she has a capability and independence that’s practically unmatched, and has become an elite resource to her loved ones when it comes to planning, prepping, and perfection. you’ll never hear lark asking for help, not ever, not necessarily because it’s ‘weak’ or anything like that, but because she knows she’ll always eventually get it done, so why bother?

label.

does lark do tricks? no, magic is childish folly! (shout out to mr milchick) but she’s represented very well by the magician tarot card. lark takes the universe in her hands and moulds it in her image, manifesting since childhood for the perfect life she has always dreamed of. her life goals, loves, and hates have all been meticulously planned for her, by her, since the moment she gained consciousness. there is nothing she cannot do. on the flip side, lark’s time in the competitive new york banking scene has left a duplicitous stain on her core. all of her loved ones tell her she can keep her hands clean, she’s a good person, thank you so much for helping me out. the problem is, that attitude isn’t extended to anyone outside of her inner circle, and those are the people who find themselves victim to her manipulations. they’re like a bad habit she can’t kick after existing in an environment where everyone is out to get you.

biography.

trigger warnings: depression tw, mental health tw, bullying tw, anxiety tw.

i. born to good parents and blessed with a good brother, lark’s early life was simply good. what was there to say, really? she cooed over her brother when he was born and pushed her tiny finger onto his nose to make a ‘boop’ sound more times than she could count, her dad stayed up late with her to recite math equations and spelling bee answers, her mom patiently spent hours in make believe lessons as lark taught her things she learned thirty years ago. yes, julian was supremely talented and famous and brilliant, but her family never made her feel less than, and it was perhaps what allowed her to flourish into the logistician she became. 

ii. julian had the creative brilliance and lark had the smarts to match. a million extracurriculars before the age of twelve, shelves gilded with gold from all of her math competition and debate team wins (which evolved to include gymnastics when she got older, if you can believe it), and an endless stream of report cards calling her ‘a pleasure to have in class’ and a ’testament to her parents’. she loved cheering her brother on, loved seeing this world of his that was so starkly different to her own. maybe in another life she’d have enjoyed it but no, she had a plan for her life. a strict, 60 year plan that involved retiring early and getting on the property ladder before she hit 25. it became evidently clear to everyone that knew her that she loved organisation and ridding herself of the unknown.

iii. lark was bullied at school. not by anyone who really mattered, in her eyes, but it does something to you as a kid when you believe you’re doing everything right, only to be told by your peers you were doing everything wrong. as a defense, she grew taller and taller, in the metaphorical sense. looking down on those same peers made it much easier to stomach their vicious comments and pointed looks, but the problem was that she continued to grow. soon, people were having to prove themselves to lark. they didn’t get a clean slate with her, you started in hell and had to crawl your way out… and if she was honest, she kind of liked it.

iv. the time for college came and she knew exactly what she wanted to do. undergrad at MIT, masters degree at harvard, then straight into the world of work in new york city as an investment banker. she didn’t have time to mess around, though she certainly had plenty of confused hook ups who didn’t understand why she would kick them out to proudly state “i’ve got assignments due in 5 months”, but things mostly went her way. she returned to palmview only briefly after graduation, mainly to spend time with her family and friends, before jetting off to new york for what would become the defining moment of her life, but in a way she never predicted.

v. new york city was hard, but lark knew that, of course! she wasn’t naive. she didn’t care about the shoebox apartment, or menacing 10+ hour days, she didn’t even bat an eyelid at her nightmarish asshole of a first boss… until she got hit with something she realised she had no control over, herself. she’d upgraded to a beautiful apartment with a wardrobe full of designer clothes, she had a five hundred dollar coffee machine on her kitchen counter, and her bank account was so healthy it could sustain a small community, but as she laid there and watched the nyc lights dance across her bedroom ceiling, lark realised one thing. she was miserable.

vi. the crash. the come down. the spiral. a few horrible weeks later, her alarm didn’t go off, she had to rush out the door with unwashed hair. she got coffee, only for another commuter to walk straight into her and splash it all over her brand new blouse. when she arrived at work, her key card wouldn’t work, and by this point she was at least 5 minutes late. 5 minutes, really, that was all it took. she finally sat down at her desk at 8.07, pressed the power button on her computer, and was met with a message that seemed to gleefully tell her that her system was corrupted. she. lost it. you would never get it out of her, the true events that unfolded that day, but there was damage involved. plenty of it.

vii. the company feared, in this “new day and age”, that lark’s declining mental health prior to the incident would put a target on their backs, so they agreed to not press charges as long as she left quietly. plus they would give her a decent enough reference, but it wouldn’t be perfect. it wouldn’t be what lark wanted… but she supposed that didn’t matter anymore. 

viii. she returned home to palmview, hair still perfectly blowdried and clothes perfectly pressed, but her family knew something had happened. to this day, only julian knows the extent of what lark went through, as she’s made it her life’s mission to retain the reputation she always had in this town. if there’s one thing the world can take from her, it’s that. the first morning after she came back, she was stopped at the front door by her mother, who seemed concerned that lark was armed with a stack of resumes. ‘where are you going, sweetie? why don’t you rest a little?’ ‘i’ll sleep when i’m dead, mom. don’t worry about it, i love you.’ and that was that.

ix. when lark took the role in the mayor’s office, she did what she was asked to do… and then she decided what she was being asked to do wasn’t good enough. she started colour coding, alphabetising, and diary managing like her life depended on it. bit by bit, day by day, lark almost began to actually enjoy her job – and even more shockingly, her boss. benjamin was, at his core, someone who wanted to do the right thing, the good thing, and perhaps it awoke something deep in lark’s core she thought had long fallen asleep. she was still a strict woman with a negative impression of the world, but maybe it wasn’t so bad using what she’d learned to help someone else make it a better place.

x. life is weird now. it didn’t follow her plan and, for the first time ever, lark doesn’t really know what that means. she’s been the mayor’s assistant for just under two years now, and as the days pass by she finds herself increasingly drawn to palmview and its charms. its slower paced life, its quaint shops – but there’s a hungry pit forming in her stomach, swirling and swirling. will it be enough for the rest of her life? will she have to choose between the hunger and her happiness? will she have a choice?