#controlling behavior cw

[hypno-matt]

The Wheel of Hypnosis

I've recently been experimenting with giving myself (and other people) a way to obey commands with just a push of a button, and I think I found a way to do it. Introducing, The Wheel of Hypnosis!!

This Wheel has been equipped with a bunch of hypnotic commands, ranging from easy to do to incredibly mind breaking, alongside a bunch of suggestions to act in different ways or to change certain behaviours.

Each command specifies the number of minutes in which it is active. For example, "Edge (10 mins.)" means to, well, edge for 10 minutes. These are all suggested times, however, and if anyone here wants to play this you can obey these commands for as little, or as long as you see fit.

If the wheel labds on something that is beyond a sub's level of comfort, or if they just dont want to follow it, they can simply not do it. Comfort and fun is the aim of the game, so if any command makes you uncomfy you can simply choose to stop, or roll again.

With all that being said, how do you play?

Well, it's simple. If you're playing with a dom, anytime they tell you to spin the wheel, you do. There is no winning or losing, the game ends whenever your dom wants it to, or when your mind is too broken to keep going!!

If you are alone, or you don't have a dom, you can just spin the wheel whenever you want, and obey it. I recommend knowing how to wake yourself up from trance, however, or having an awakener ready in a separate tab, so you can wake yourself up if you get too mushy!

Or, there's always a third option. You can post the link, and for every x number of notes that you get (5,10, whatever you want), you have to spin the wheel and show your followers the results. This essentialy makes you into a giant free use toy for all of Tumblr to see, which is particularly fun for people who like to show off how blank they are <3

In any case, if anyone does plan to play this game, I hope that they do so with care. Have an awakener ready, make sure to never do anything that is too uncomfy, and stop whenever you want to or need to stop. Besides that, I hope you people have fun~

[quarterlifekitty]

Hiii, absolutely love your weaknesses series 👀

Which of the guys do you think is most likely to secretly put a tracker in their S/O's phone (and other places they'll never know about) ? The kind of guy who if they get caught, they go "oh no it's just for your safety 😊 is it so bad to want to care for you?? 😢"

Let me not waste your time. It’s price. We all know it. (I think @/syoddeye wrote a series about something like this! If I can find it I’ll link it here)

cw: obsessive, controlling behavior

Like. This man is going beyond just sticking an AirTag to your car. If he knew he could get away with it, he would get you chipped like a dog. And for your phone— it’s something installed with a parental lock you can’t disable without his help.

I imagine he’d been thinking about doing it for a really long time, but he finally got “pushed” into taking action when you went out drinking with friends one night and you weren’t answering his texts or calls— not until the next day. If you can’t be trusted to keep him informed on your safety and whereabouts, he’s gonna have to take matters into his own hands. But that’s okay! It’s no trouble to him to keep you safe. Cause he wuvs you so much.

And if you confront it about it, he’s gonna start by being casual as fuck about it. Like “it’s just so I know you’re safe, darl’.” And if he gets any pushback at all, he’s gonna flip it and tell you all about how he’s seen bad things happen to all kinds of people who didn’t deserve it. Don’t you wanna give your man some peace of mind? It’s such a small thing, he won’t even be looking at it unless he’s getting worried.

That’s not true, by the way. He’s going to be checking it every day when his eyes first open, every night before he goes to sleep, and during every single 5 minute break he takes during the day. And when he catches up with you before bed or at dinner or anything— he’s gonna ask what you did today. And this is where he thinks he’s magnanimously giving you a chance to prove yourself. That you won’t lie to the man who only wants what’s best for you.

And let’s address something else while we’re at it. Does Nikolai put a tracker on you? Of course not. He doesn’t need to. Because he can just keep you with him! And when he goes off on work, that’s what the cameras in the house are for.

[anjeliquesworld]

Thaddeus x reader

Note: yes,I love Thaddeus 😭

I tried to highlight Thaddeus abandonment issues and his dark side so here's the final version,I hope you enjoy it 💋

cw: obsession, stalking, thriller, manipulation, abandonment issues

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Twisted Love

The moon lies high in the sky, full of stars, illuminating the empty streets of Kowloon Hell with its tender light, where darkness reigns and the nights seem endless.

Lying on the edge of the main rooftop:

Thaddeus.

His head full of thoughts.

~HIS POV:

Loneliness isn't just a horrible feeling; it's a companion that doesn't leave. My mind replays my past, each abandonment reminding me of how fragile I truly am. It's the weight of how easily people I cared about left me, as if I were a burden in their lives. It happened many times before—people have come and gone, and each departure left a scar deeper than the last.

"Ah, little bunny," I say, closing my eyes as I visualize your pretty face.

Your existence haunts me. The way you laugh when I make a stupid joke makes my heart skip a beat. That’s strange because I’ve always been good at keeping my distance, but with you, it's different. I can't stay away from you.

When I feel alone, I remember your small hands touching my face—gentle, soft strokes caressing me. You treat me as if I were someone worthy of your love. That’s why sometimes I’m overprotective: you’re too precious, and I don’t want you to suffer.

It’s funny, isn’t it? I pretend to be the good guy around you... I pretend to be the good friend—when in reality, I want to take you away from everyone. I just want to keep you safe from anyone who could hurt you. I’m the only one who can give you what you need.

You said it yourself the other day as we were walking to the park:

"You're the only one who truly understands me."

The affection in your eyes, that smile—no one ever gave me that. And I told you, playfully, "That's because we're meant to be." You blushed, looking so cute. But I wasn’t joking. We are meant to be. Together. Forever.

Sometimes, when the cold breeze of my domain envelops me, I wonder if this is what I deserve—being abandoned, left to face this cruel world alone. But when those thoughts overwhelm me, you come to mind. You’re the light that chases away the monsters.

I want to be the only one to whom you give your attention, your warmth, your smiles.

What I feel is not love.

No, it’s something darker, deeper.

Something I can’t control, something lurking in the back of my head, a sickening feeling—it’s obsession.

You’re not aware of the way I hide in the shadows to capture a glimpse of you. You don’t know how many times I’ve climbed up to your room to watch you sleep... so peaceful and innocent.

Too innocent for this world. Too innocent for me.

You’re too pure to be with someone as dark and twisted as me, but I am a selfish man. I have no intention of letting you go, little bunny.

My heart wouldn’t bear the sight of you in the arms of another man.

Before meeting you, it felt like I was invisible to everyone... a shadow fading into the background. Just one step away from being forgotten. But you, with your kindness, taught me that even I matter.

Sometimes I wonder if you feel it—if you feel my twisted love for you. When you look at me, I see it in those pleading, soft eyes of yours.

You can’t deny it, little one. You’re attracted to me, I know you are. You’re just too afraid to admit it.

But don’t worry. I’ll keep playing the charming prince for now. After all, I’m good at it.

"You're so cute when you blush, little bunny."

I chuckle, teasing you. "I'm sorry for teasing you... but I can't help it. It's just too fun."

We'll keep playing the cat and mouse as long as you want. I don’t mind.

At least I get to stay close to you.

Sooner or later, you will succumb to your desires.

You will come to me.

You have to.

You need me as much as I need you.

And I’ll be more than happy to satisfy you, my little bunny.

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[oblisker]

shitty and dangerous friend vs literal eldritch god physically and psychologically abusing his ex-worshipper to the brink of complete insanity

[howlsofbloodhounds]

when people say they hate killer I nod in complete understanding and bite my tongue to keep from asking their exact reasons because I know I’ll immediately start defending his shitty behavior

[toxintouch]

Leander: Breadcrumbs

Relationship: Leander/Unspecified MC, relationship dynamic up to interpretation.

Rating: All | Content Warning: implied financial control/manipulation.

Slowly, the work starts drying up.

It’s not that you don’t have skills and it’s not like the skills you have aren’t marketable. You do odd jobs for odd people and odd pay without complaint but no one lets you stay on staff for long.

The amount of time it takes for them to kick you to the curb varies but the moment you walk in, hopefully seeking a day’s work only to see that look in their eyes… You know you’re being asked not to come back.

People are direct about it, at least. It’s as close to politeness as you’ve come to expect in Eridia.

You're lucky, honestly. Your former employers always hand over any pending funds you’re owed without a fuss. You've tried to refuse, even, but regardless of how you bargain, the results are the same. There’s no work for you anymore.

And Leander is always there for you at the end of it. There with a hot meal and a sympathetic smile. A shoulder to lean on, a hand to hold–if you want to, that is.

You just can’t figure out why this is so difficult, you gripe, wondering if it’s the fact that you’re an outsider or if it’s…

Maybe there’s some…intrinsic wrongness to you that people can sense. You smooth the wrappings of your bandages, a scoff on your lips. Maybe you can’t even blame them. You offer the thought up to Leander when you’re deep in your cups, drunk on free drinks and a cheap sense of self-deprecation.

There’s nothing wrong with you, Leander insists passionately. Money is tight for a lot of people in Eridia, Leander placates. You shouldn't think that way about yourself. He certainly knows how amazing you are, what you’re worth. He can even offer you odd jobs with the Bloodhounds, if a little freelancing would make you feel better.

(“Nothing too dangerous, though, alright?”)

But of course he’s here for you no matter what you decide.

And look on the bright side–this means the two of you will get to spend so much more time together.

[anonyb0b]

outing(?) myself here by typing this but SQUIP!whumper thoughts! SQUIP!whumper who makes up excuses to shock their user!whumpee so that even the smallest possible thing is a punishable offense. SQUIP!whumper who isolates user!whumpee from everyone, even family, anyone that could help them ruin their progress. SQUIP!whumper who uses kindness or affection as a manipulation tool since user!whumpee certainly isn't getting that if they've been isolated. SQUIP!whumper who controls user!whumpee's body and forces them to do things, even harmful things, "for their own good". user!whumpee who's constantly on guard, monitoring their own behavior, overcorrecting their "bad behaviors" before they can get hurt. User!whumpee getting shocked despite trying their hardest not to get shocked.

[umemiyan]

does the sims still count as a cozy game if you just use mods to make everyone fuck and do coke

[faded-mage]

Isathe

Felassan is kind. Isathe thought often as they traveled together. At first, his sarcasm threw her off entirely. She never experienced that before and quite often thought he was being serious. She slowly learned more of the nuances of language and grew to enjoy the playful banter he provided. It brought a small spark of joy to converse with another elf without the fear. He looked at her with the same kindness that Daern’thal once did. No, it was not kindness in Daern’thal’s gaze. Felassan looked at her as if he did not expect anything from her at all, that was actual kindness.

The longer she spent awake in this world, the more she grew to understand that Daern’thal’s affections were not love. It was possession. In the darkest hours of the night as she lay looking up at the tent’s ceiling she tried to remind herself of the pain the man caused her, in hopes that it would ease her heartache. It did little but she continued to try anyway. The small moments of joy and life during her travels reminded her what it felt like before it all. Before she felt that pain and uncertainty. When the heat from a warm bath was a new and exciting sensation, not just a way to scrub away the feeling of disgust that lay on her skin. If she scrubbed hard enough then the bad memories would leave her.

Felassan tried to catch her up on the history that she missed. He was vague in many aspects, particularly around his knowledge of the rebellion. Her own memories from that time were haunted with fear, she did not pry when his jaw grew tight and he forced humor into his voice. He educated her on the fall of the Elvhenan, the destruction of Arlathan and how their people were hunted by the humans until their land was taken from them and the elves were placed under heel. He spoke of the Dalish, a group of elves that tried to return to the old ways. Felassan held kindness in his tone when he spoke of them, despite them getting more wrong than right about elven history. But they were trying. He impressed that fact upon her often.

The modern elves also aged. The mere concept to her was foreign and frightening. They could no longer live countless ages, pursing what was their core purpose. Floating free in the Sky, not that there was a connection to it anymore. Wait, no. Not the Sky. It was not called that anymore, those here called it the Fade and they never knew a time where the Fade was one with everything else. Elves were no longer pulled from the Fade and given form through lyrium. They were created like the animals, through acts of flesh and desire. Through love or violence.

Her own people were remembered, somewhat, to the modern elves. The Forgotten Ones spoken of through hushed whispers as if something dark would awaken if anyone dared let the names drop from their lips. Maybe her own name was lost through history and she could just exist as she wanted to. That want, that need still sat in her belly but maybe she was not lost to her nature. Not yet.

Isathe held little that was hers. What Daern’thal did to her, how he coaxed her from the Sky was not how she was supposed to be. The elf understood more now than she ever did back then. Her mind slipped away in quiet moments when there was nothing to distract her from her memories. She sat at the very edge of understanding that she may not have deserved the pain inflicted on her before quickly retreating back into herself. The same prayer fell from her lips, twisting her deeper - He is my protector. Only he can keep me safe. That devotion and obsession still hidden under the surface. But she was free of him, once she adjusted to the world she could attempt to move past whatever was wrong with her. Or learn to live with the want.

The elf sometimes looked at her oddly, as if he had questions in the back of his mind for her but refused to speak them aloud. Isathe protected her satchel fiercely, it rarely left her side as her fingers clung to it like it was the only lifeline to her past life. Felassan certainly noticed. Inside the satchel was the dagger she found, the one once owned by Daern’thal. Some nights she removed the blade from her bag and sat in the moonlight with it in her lap. The silver blade reflecting in the light above her, reminding her of Daern’thal’s eyes. The flash of silver when they stood face to face in the darkness. Their eyes mirrors of one another. Then the guilt would appear, that tearing apart at the center of her very beginning. Memory of pain weaving through the forced memories of happiness.

Her mask was the other item hidden within her bag, wrapped in what was left of her clothing from before. Isathe ran her fingertips along the smooth ivory mask. It yellowed with age while she slept. The elf did not understand why she kept it, it was a reminder of when she was a thing to own but it was the only existence she knew of. She came to realize she was slowly forgetting what it felt like being a spirit at all. The small moments of curiosity reminded her but they disappeared quicker each time, only to be replaced with that deep hunger, that want. A yearning. Was it this Veil between her and the Sky pulling her farther away from the self she knew?

Felassan’s kindness continued as they traveled. She even found that she laughed again, a true laughter. The kind that would create a bittersweet ache in her stomach. He taught her some of the common tongue. Isathe did not know how to extend her gratitude toward the man who was so patient with her. He never asked her questions about her life before uthenera. Why she sometimes flinched if his hand moved too quickly toward her. Or why she cried when he gave her clothing to wear. The leather and cloth felt warm against her skin. It was not showy, it did not shine in the light but it was comfortable and now there was something else that was just hers. Appeasing that want inside of her for a little while.

Guilt continued to eat at her during the nights. How dare she be relieved to have woken up where the Forgotten Ones were past recollection. If the Dalish and the elves of this time did not know who they were or how they existed then they would have no cause to believe she was one of the evils of their mythos. Isathe was happy to be forgotten. One evening as Isathe quietly cut vegetables they foraged during their trip and Felassan built the fire, her curiosity got the better of her. She wanted to know more about the Forgotten Ones. Isathe hesitated and she could hear the worry that sat in her tone, “You said the Forgotten Ones do not have names?” Felassan glanced up so his eyes could meet hers, “Yes. Only a few names survived history.” With a brow furrowed, her lips curled into a small frown as her gaze returned to the vegetables sitting in front of her, “Which?”

Her line of questions was likely an odd one, who in their right mind would be so interested in the Forgotten Ones? She wanted to know, however. That little light inside of her wanting to understand like she used to. Felassan sat down next to the small fire that was slowly growing in front of him, “The Dalish remember only a few, they have little desire to dig up darker aspects of their history. The ones I have heard whispered by Keepers are Anaris, Daern’thal, Geldauran, Aseradiva and they like to say Fen’harel walked between the Forgotten Ones and the Evanuris. As he was both, or neither. No other names exist in their histories, as far as I have heard. It would truly be a terrible name to call them Forgotten Ones if they remembered them all, however.” His tone joking toward the end, she forced herself to give him an uneasy smile and a chuckle.

She noticed he qualified his words withthe Dalish believe, she wondered if he remembered more names. The fact that her own name was nestled within his list was not lost on her. A knot grew at the base of her throat and her heartbeat quickened. That is no longer my name. Huffing air through her nose, the remainder of his words slowly settled in her mind. Before she could help herself, her tone was defensive. Isathe felt offended by the implications as she declared, “Fen’harel was not one of the Forgotten Ones.” From what Felassan mentioned and what she experienced herself, he was the one to lock them away. He just happened to miss at least one. Even if this world felt broken and wrong, she still existed and he failed to wipe out her people entirely. The elf appeared surprised by her exclamation, “True. They believe many things that are not fact in our history. For one, they believe the Evanuris and Forgotten Ones were gods. They believed that the Dread Wolf locked away both out of spite and malice. They know nothing of the rebellion that led up to such events.”

Isathe’s body stiffened, they were remembered as gods? A bitter laugh escaped her, moving to drop the cut vegetables into the stew pot now that the water was bubbling. “They are thought of as gods? What are the Forgotten even gods of?” She felt sick again, sweat beading on her skin. Push through, you need to know. To understand. She had the incredible desire to wretch. Felassan watched her carefully for a few moments and she found she could not read the emotions that sat on his face. More humor in his tone as he answered her, “Well, the leader of the Forgotten Ones is believed to be Anaris. Daern’thal remembered as the god of nightmares and possession. So both assholes.” His name said aloud by another made her stomach ache, bile rising in her throat. She swallowed it down. “Geldauran is of hatred and malice.” Ah. They were seen as the worst of the elvhen, at least Daern’thal had not lied to her about that. She was corrupted, twisted and dark. Nothing more. No other use. Perhaps the Dalish were right. There were moments she felt her old self blossom but the emptiness when it disappeared hurt more each time. “Aseradiva is remembered as a god of desire and greed and as the wife to Daern’thal.” He paused before he continued, “They don’t like to say her name. They say directly invoking her name is dangerous because of her desire to take everything that is theirs.”

What? Isathe conceded there was a hunger within her that she could not push away entirely. It was a sweet hunger when she was a spirit. The one who wanted to learn and know, feel and touch. To experience. Twisted into the need to have and to own by the circumstances of her existence. But to be remembered as that? Only more grateful that the Forgotten Ones were believed to be hidden away, far from her.

Isathe nodded slowly, her voice was quiet, “Ah. I see.” Asking only formed new worries about her life in the world. Felassan did not appear to notice the darkness that sat inside of her. She could keep it at bay, learn to be herself again. Maybe. Someday. “I… am going to take a walk. Ma serannas.” Slowly lifting herself up off the ground, she wandered into the tree line before she heard him say anything at all. Once deep into the woods, she became sick on the forest floor. Isathe had to keep moving, her mind spiraled with the knowledge of her legacy. She would always be remembered as his. And dark. And evil. They were spirits of destruction and death, the antithesis of the bright and shining Evanuris. However, she knew they were just two sides of the same coin.

Far enough from the fire where she could no longer see its light reflecting off the trees, Isathe leaned against a tree, sliding down into the dirt. Quietly falling asleep while she listened to the breeze that rustled leaves above her, the night air smelling clean. You are almost free.

- - -

Felassan’s words only made her dreams roam toward the memories she would have rather forgotten. Most of the time she could direct her thoughts and her dreams but she found it increasingly more difficult to push out the painful memories that haunted her as they returned to the surface.

Isathe stood in a grand hall made of cream-colored stone and intricate details in gold. Two curved tables sat in the center of the room facing each other. She stood at the very left edge of the table, in the center of theirs was Anaris. He was adorned in black and silver finery, leaning back into the chair, picking his nails as if he were too bored to care what the elves in front of them had to say. To his left was Daern’thal, he placed a possessive hand on her lower back. The warmth of his palm through her thin dress only reminding her what little she wore for this particular gathering. Not that she had a choice. Daern’thal’s hand roamed from her back, slipping below the high slit of the dress and she tensed. If she did anything wrong, said anything wrong then that warm hand would be used for something far worse. To Anaris’ right was Nerien. That name had been forgotten with time, she would be the luckiest of them all.

Sitting at the table across from them were some members of the Evanuris. Intricate crowns and detailed armor created interesting silhouettes that Isathe found herself unable to look away from. A woman with dark hair and a crown that framed her face spoke first. Mythal. That was her name. She spoke with a commanding tone. The man to her right was referred to as Elgar’nan. He sat in equal standing with Mythal. Only two of the other Evanuris joined their talks, they had yet to introduce themselves. Elven servants walked into the room to pour wine for the Evanuris while they spoke, intricate designs tattooed on her faces. Curiosity bubbled within her, what were those for?

While she was distracted, Elgar’nan redirected the conversation, his gaze now trained on her, “Anaris did not allow you to introduce yourself. You are a new face to us.” He did not ask a question, not really. She was not granted time to speak because she was a thing. Only there to make their people appear more powerful. Isathe was a highly competent mage, Daern’thal encouraged her to allow her power to roll off of her, to help intimidate. The selective silence from the woman was also a ploy to hide the fear and pain that sat under the surface. Daern’thal spoke before she could, “This is my wife-” Elgar’nan interrupted the man and she felt his hand grip her waist savagely, his fingers digging into her skin. “Why not let your wife answer for herself.” Isathe’s voice was even despite her heartbeat thrumming inside of her. A perfected form of disassociation and detachment. It all hurt. Her hip hurt. Standing there hurt. “Aseradiva.” That was her name within their ranks, binding her once more to the man who held her so tightly it bruised. Isathe reminded herself that this was the deal. She could indulge her curiosity once this was all over. Daern’thal promised she could see the city bathed in gold and sunlight if she behaved.

She felt the gaze of the remaining Evanuris land on her as she spoke. Daern’thal pulled her onto his lap, his hands now roaming toward her thighs. Isathe let her white hair fall in front of her face to hide the disgust that settled on her features. Forcing a soft laugh, pulling herself together. The two sides of her spirit were at war with one another as his hand moved up the center of her thigh, under her dress. He is protecting you, you are safe. He owns you, you are not free.

After the display, Elgar’nan and Mythal removed their attention from her and she could breath finally, she felt her body shaking. The remainder of the discussion was on possible peace talks between the two groups of elves. They did not state as much but with the Evanuris in the middle of a rebellion caused by one of their very own, she assumed they did not have the energy to continue to track them down as well. Maybe I can sit in the sun again. She missed it. That was the only reason he hid her away, to protect her from them.

Anaris was increasingly antagonistic with each passing moment. It took her far too long to realize he had no intention of stopping. Whatever anger that drove him caused him to dismiss and demean every chance at peace. What was worth so much that the lives of their very people were not enough? They deferred to him however, even Daern’thal did. The power that exuded from the man was enchanting, she found herself often stepping away if he were too near. Maybe that was it, that darkness within him that he embraced. Whatever twisted form it took, he reveled in it while she actively tried to push hers away.

Mythal was stoic during the taunts and hostility that dropped from Anaris’ mouth. Elgar’nan grew more hostile with each breath. The room shook with the two men’s anger. They were granted safe passage into the city but that would be all. There would be no ceasefire during their rebellion. And now the Evanuris knew their names and faces.

Their departure was swift and Isathe knew that she would not be seeing the golden city that day. He promised. Her curiosity was once again denied and pushed aside. She felt the anger rise within her and the moment they stepped through the doors to their shared chambers she made a horrible misstep. Isathe actually spoke up to him, reminding him that he promised her curiosity. She knew it was not logical to pine for it, to bring it up in the aftermath of all that happened. They had no reason to remain there but he promised. Resentment continued to build within her and she allowed the darker form of desire, that hunger to unleash at the man standing in front of her. She found herself pinned up against the wall, Daern'thal holding her up by her neck.

Right. Physical bodies needed air. Her vision grew fuzzy the longer her held her up, “Do you wish to say that to me again? I protect you from those who would harm you. Those who would use your naivety to take advantage of you. And you are upset that I do not let you roam as you wish? You belong to me.” The last words hissed through clenched teeth before he released her and she slid down the wall, stumbling.

His hand grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back to her feet before pushing her towards the bed. She kept repeating in her head. He is my protector, he is my savior.

- - -

A soft voice stirred her from her dreams. “Aseradiva… Aseradiva?” Right, her name. “Please, I cannot.” She heard her voice beg, it cracked and she felt broken. Wait. This wasn't right. The voice wasn’t angry and biting against her ear as she was roughly woken up from her dreams. It spoke softly, hesitant. Her eyes flew open to see Felassan standing above her. Her memory slowly knit itself back together, she had fallen asleep in the woods. Isathe’s gaze met Felassan’s and then she noticed he was holding her mask in his hand. A mask of a Forgotten One.

[buggiecrossing]

nalu needs to stop reading stuff that makes hyr mad. friendly reminder to protect your peace and to not let your emotions overcome you to the point you sink to the opposing side's level. la paz sea contigo

[ed-recovery-affirmations]

Any tips on how to overcome a scarcity mindset when it’s your actual situation?? Like I am living with my parents who heavily control my diet, so when I’m alone or in a safe place I end up binging “unhealthy” things, which doesn’t feel great. I’ve tried telling myself that I can always have more later if I want, but the fact is that I can’t because of my situation. And that’s kind of the only method or mantra (what really helps me is repeating little supportive phrases to myself) that I’ve seen in my research.

This is a tough one, anon. I think you're going to have to do some damage control now, and start making plans for treatment once you are able to leave this environment. So instead of telling yourself you can have more later if you want, tell yourself "It is wrong that this is happening to me. One day in the future I will begin to heal from this." Just focus as much as you can on your hope and not on your distress.

Do you have a locker at school or any place your family cannot access? A job that provides you a cubby/locker to store your things? If so, it could be a good idea to stash sealed nonperishables (so that you don't grow mold or attract mice.) Some ideas could be: sleeves of crackers and those single-serve pouches of peanut butter, granola bars, packets of nuts or dried fruit, potato chips. Try to stash nutritious things but it's okay to keep treats too, so you don't create a guilt mindset around these foods. Then you can tell yourself "I'm not going to starve. I do have enough. I do have some control." (A lot of unhealthy relationships with food are about control, and it sounds like you have a scary lack of control in your own life right now.) If you could even get a lockbox to hide somewhere in your room (or in your car, if you have one) you could stash these nonperishables there, and keep the key on your person at all times. Ooh, and if you're afraid you're not getting enough nutrients, invest in a multivitamin too. Just remember to come up with a ready-made excuse for what's in the lockbox in case your family finds it. Maybe stash food in multiple places, as long as it's nonperishables. Oh, and anon, I feel for you having to tell you this, but please make a note to bring this up in treatment if you seek therapy once you're free. Lots of people who've lived in scarcity develop extreme trauma and food hoarding behaviors, to the point of eating foods that are unsafe or keeping their house in unsanitary conditions. Right now, you may need to hoard and that's the honest reality. But do keep your eyes on a future where healing is accessible, not just survival.

Remember, it's okay to eat junk food. I understand it's not ideal to live on it, but if it's all you can access, it's better than starving and you need to remind yourself that so you don't feel guilt. But "junk foods" are the kinds that are easiest to binge, especially if you have a scarcity mindset because they have the sugars, salts, and fats that you'd be desperately seeking if you were starving in the wilderness. So it's a bit of an instinctive reaction to want to go ham on these things if you live in fear of going without, so try to tell yourself not to feel guilty about craving them. No matter what you're eating, make sure you take a breath every few bites. Take a moment to remind yourself that you are alone, in your space, you are totally safe, that you are allowed to not only eat freely but to enjoy your food. Be patient with yourself if this message doesn't sink in right away, as you are living in a traumatic situation where that is not always the case. But teaching yourself strategies to prevent or interrupt the binge process is always helpful. Stay patient and keep working on it.

Do you have friends who are aware of what you're going through? Anyone who can help you to get a little bit of extra food here and there, or whose house you can visit to get a real meal? If you must live on snacks, they will keep you from starvation, but a real meal here and there will do you wonders, as will the knowledge that you have a safe space and people to validate that what is happening to you is wrong.

Never stop working on your exit plan and envisioning your future of healing. I hope you get through okay.

[magdaclaire]

i have questions tho

[seilon]

i usually dont comment on these kinds of things because they shouldnt be treated with the level of weird parasocial interest they tend to be on social media generally but. claire (lil tay) was so fucking young. it doesnt take knowing her personally to feel just how jarring and genuinely tragic her sudden death is. like shit. she was only 14. she didnt even get to live her own life. sorry if this is pointless and theres no call to action or anything here but. jesus.

[dipshit-does-crimes]

i wish i could google how to solve my mental issues

like “hey google how do i stop the development of an eating disorder” “hey google how to not be suicidal” “hey google how to not be addicted to the blade” sheesh it would make it so much easier too bad i don’t want to get better :3c

[lith-myathar]

disordered eating talk in the tags

[maaarine]

'We Can Bury Anyone': Inside a Hollywood Smear Machine (Megan Twohey and Mike McIntire and Julie Tate, The New York Times, Dec 21 2024)

"Last summer, as the release of “It Ends With Us” approached, Justin Baldoni, the director and a star of the film, and Jamey Heath, the lead producer, hired a crisis public relations expert.

During shooting, Blake Lively, the co-star, had complained that the men had repeatedly violated physical boundaries and made sexual and other inappropriate comments to her.

Their studio, Wayfarer, agreed to provide a full-time intimacy coordinator, bring in an outside producer and put other safeguards on set.

In a side letter to Ms. Lively’s contract, signed by Mr. Heath, the studio also agreed not to retaliate against the actress.

But by August, the two men, who had positioned themselves as feminist allies in the #MeToo era, expressed fears that her allegations would become public and taint them, according to a legal complaint that she filed Friday.

It claims that their P.R. effort had an explicit goal: to harm Ms. Lively’s reputation instead.

Her filing includes excerpts from thousands of pages of text messages and emails that she obtained through a subpoena.

These and other documents were reviewed by The New York Times. (…)

Mr. Baldoni was best known for the CW satirical romantic dramedy “Jane the Virgin.”

Wayfarer provided the resources for bigger ambitions. It was bankrolled by the billionaire Steve Sarowitz, who is co-chair of the studio with Mr. Baldoni.

They and Mr. Heath, the chief executive, are all deeply involved with the Baha’i religious organization, which promotes unity, peace and gender equality.

Mr. Baldoni has presented himself as an ally to women, writing books, co-hosting a podcast with Mr. Heath and giving talks on toxic masculinity. (…)

She claimed Mr. Baldoni had improvised unwanted kissing and discussed his sex life, including encounters in which he said he may not have received consent.

Mr. Heath had shown her a video of his wife naked, she said, and he had watched Ms. Lively in her trailer when she was topless and having body makeup removed, despite her asking him to look away.

She said that both men repeatedly entered her makeup trailer uninvited while she was undressed, including when she was breastfeeding. (…)

As the film release neared, Ms. Lively and other cast members informed Sony and Wayfarer that they would not do any appearances alongside Mr. Baldoni.

So did Ms. Hoover, the author, who had her own dissatisfactions with him and had become more upset after he told her about Ms. Lively’s allegations, according to text messages from Mr. Baldoni and Mr. Heath.

By the first week of August, Wayfarer and Mr. Baldoni had retained Ms. Nathan, who had worked with high-profile clients including Mr. Depp, whose ex-wife, Amber Heard, accused him of physical abuse. (…)

Three days later, Mr. Baldoni texted Ms. Abel, flagging a social media thread that accused another celebrity of bullying behavior and had generated 19 million views. “This is what we would need,” he wrote.

Ms. Nathan soon floated proposals to hire contractors to dominate social media through “full social account take downs,” by starting “threads of theories” and generally working to “change narrative.”

“All of this will be most importantly untraceable,” she wrote. (…)

When Ms. Abel wrote to her Aug. 4 that “I’m having reckless thoughts of wanting to plant pieces this week of how horrible Blake is to work with. Just to get ahead of it,” Ms. Nathan replied that she had spoken off the record to an editor at The Daily Mail.

“She’s ready when we are,” Ms. Nathan wrote.

A flurry of articles followed the Hollywood Reporter piece. Many made it seem as if the only rift was over creative control.

Some journalists had gotten wind of complaints about Mr. Baldoni’s behavior, but none of the most serious ones were published.

“He doesn’t realise how lucky he is right now,” Ms. Nathan texted Ms. Abel. (…)

It is unclear exactly how Mr. Wallace operated.

There are references in emails to “social manipulation” and “proactive fan posting,” and text messages cite efforts to “boost” and “amplify” online content that was favorable to Mr. Baldoni or critical of Ms. Lively.

“We are crushing it on Reddit,” Mr. Wallace told Ms. Nathan, according to a text she sent Ms. Abel on Aug. 9.

The next day, one of Ms. Nathan’s employees texted, “We’ve started to see shift on social, due largely to Jed and his team’s efforts to shift the narrative.”

Ms. Nathan wrote to Ms. Abel: “And socials are really really ramping up. In his favour, she must be furious. It’s actually sad because it just shows you have people really want to hate on women.” (…)

On Aug. 16, Ms. Nathan shared the Daily Mail article headlined “Is Blake Lively set to be CANCELLED?” with references to ‘hard to watch’ videos and a ‘tone deaf’ promotional Q. and A.

“Wow. You really outdid yourself with this piece,” Ms. Abel responded.

“That’s why you hired me right?” Ms. Nathan replied. “I’m the best.”"