#does a lot to actually help me ground myself and deal with things

[actualaster]

guess i've been under way more stress than i thought and/or i've been coping way, way worse

i'm actually almost out of xanax for once lmao

[inkskinned]

the other day we were talking about balance beams because you said that your family had one of those cool winch ones that wrap around trees to make a high wire. even though i was pretty good i had to quit gymnastics at 12 because we couldn't afford dance and gymnastics but. i had something-other.

and i got excited because i think it's a funny story. i didn't have a door for about 4 years. 13-17, or there about. i only got it back because i replaced it myself.

i think my dad took it off the hinges just because his very-macho friend david had said - i do this to punish my kids. and then about a week later it was down on the ground and then eventually rotting in a shed. i used to visit it on occasion and tilt it between two boxes so i could try to walk across the side of it. i have a scar on my foot from attempting the act of balance-beam fancy dancing. it's shaped like a crescent moon. a hinge sliced into my skin when the whole thing slipped out from underneath me.

and you looked at me and you said - what the fuck?

and i said, do you want to see? because i thought the thing you were replying to was the injury. i was already undoing my shoelaces.

you're supposed to have a door, you said slowly. you were a teenager. you - i've seen your house. you lived at the end of the hall.

i didn't understand the problem. so? i wriggled out of my shoe and then my sock.

so, you said it gently, which made me slow down. you said it in the way people tell me that i experienced something bad and i have no idea that it was supposed to be something-else instead. anyone coming down the stairs or in the hallway could see directly into your room. you were in a fishbowl for four years, am i understanding that correctly?

i stared at you, and then said the other things: well, it wasn't so bad. i just wore a towel and tucked myself into a corner to change. i could always just change in the bathroom. privacy didn't really exist for any of us. i wasn't allowed to decorate so it wasn't really my room anyway. i didn't have a lot of things growing up; so it's not like i minded having a semi-public space. my siblings left me alone if i needed them to. what's the big deal anyway.

this is accidentally what emotional vampires incorrectly label as a "trauma dump". this is accidentally how you learn that my house was actually unsafe. i don't even consider this a problem, because everything else was so much worse, in a way. i didn't know it was supposed to be different. at the time, i didn't know what privacy was. i just lied about most stuff and got good at hiding in public. i haven't ever lied about this because i didn't know it was supposed to be different. i am 31.

you looked pale and ready to throw up. you had a right to a door for your room. you were a kid. someone should have helped you.

i was busy examining the sole of my foot. the scar really does look like the moon.

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter thirty-three — give it time (💋)

“I’ll admit, you made it look like a home.”

You looked around, enamored by the mutable blend of the other’s home. There was oddly a cozy charm that bled in the space, a mixture of contrasts that you wouldn’t have thought he would involve himself with.

There were soft shadows playing against the walls, promenaded by the warm and golden glow of the lamps. It was really elegant in here, yet, meticulously chosen to make you feel comfortable enough to sit down on the obviously expensive furniture.

“Didn’t know you had a…knack for interior design either.” You said hesitantly, looking at a very abstract tiny statue of a triangle on one of the shelves. Even thought you were interested, it still just felt like a painted on canvas for you. Kind of like...the idea that there can be paint on a canvas, but it doesn't make it a painting. "Learning a lot more about you everyday."

"It wasn't my idea," He sighed. "I told the interior designer 'not too many colors', and I guess she thought I was talking about completely mute."

"Feels like a sanctuary," you murmured.

Despite the dismissive words he gave you, the effort that was put into everything was clearly crafted and corroborated. You walked over to the books sitting on the coffee table, the only things out of place from the rest of the textures, reading the hard cover and smiling.

"You're really considering it?" You asked, to which Kuni turned towards you, "Taking care of the orchard outside."

He shrugged, his eyes moving back to making tea in the kitchen. "I don't have a choice. It's either me who does it, or it dies."

"That's not true, you can always pay someone to do it for you. I know there's a lot of people who may want it for themselves, it's completely healthy." You rambled, trying to see it through the long windows. "I take it that was a housewarming gift too?"

"From Furina. Came with the house, thought it'd be funny to see me struggle with something mundane."

"I heard," You grinned, not being able to keep your laugh in. "Love that for you, it's like a package deal! Did it work?"

He sighed again, running a hand through his hair at the thought. "I guess, I don't know," He started pour the tea once the pot began to steam. "I know her goal was to drive me insane. A constant reminder that no matter how far I try to distance myself from complications, they find a way to root themselves in my life."

"Hey, I wouldn't see it as that." You chuckled, the sound mixing with the soft clinking of the ceramic cups he was setting on the table. "It's probably just a way to keep you grounded after everything."

"I don't see the appeal in tending to trees."

"Maybe it's not even about that," You mused. "Maybe it's just about finding a healthy medium in your life, don't suppose you had that before, right?" You said, teasingly.

He rolled his eyes at you, a humored smile tugging at his lips. "You're one to preach about silver linings."

Your jaw dropped, a small scoff coming from your mouth. "I actually came here to truce, thank you very much. Even though you're the one who tried to run away from me — news flash, didn't work, genius. Still pissed off about that. I'm glad that Furina is looking to help you as much as she's looking to out you."

"Running away is my thing." He squinted playfully, "Like she's big help anyway. The only reason she's in on it is because she wants us to have this romance trope going on for real this time. It's stupid as fuck."

You paused at his words, feeling yourself swallow a big lump some of the tea nestled in your mouth. You shivered at the heat that washed on you, pursing your lips in thought as you let the conversation simmer. The two of you standing in a companionable silence. The trees outside rustled gently in the breeze, their leaves a vibrant contrast to the muted tones inside.

"I mean, I don't know," You paused, cringing as your fingers tightened on your cup. "I don't think it's stupid."

Kuni stiffened too, gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet yours. There was a certain look that you've never seen before from him. You couldn't decipher his actual feelings. "I figured."

Your cheeks flushed. "Holy shit, never mind if you were expecting it already." You hissed to yourself, trying to ebb how much embarrassment was on your skin. "Look, I need to check into my hotel soon—"

"Sit down." He cut you off, assertiveness in his tone enough to get you to immediately listen, plopping back down. There was an unexpected gravity that was with him, another departure from his nonchalant attitude.

Your heart hammered rapid fire in your chest, a mix of fear and total apprehension were doing a waltz on your general disposition. The more time you were here, the more you worried about the next time you'll make an absolute fucking fool of yourself. You fidgeted with your fingers.

"What really brought you here." He asked, expectantly. "First thing you give me is a hug, and some words of affirmation. You're not here just to catch up, especially after I blew you off."

"I wanted to see you again." You admitted, the weight of your own words pressing down on you. "You owned up to it, left your part of the Internet in a spiral, and then didn't bother to talk to me after that."

He was looking at you, you sensed it. And it wasn't like you could look at him back, otherwise you were going to melt. It was different seeing him from up close, it was an original experience to you if you could name it anything.

His eyes were searching you, despite all you said, as if trying to decipher if you were being genuine. His eyes bored into you like a tiny laser burning your skin. He nodded, a sliver of understanding crossing his face. "You gave me the impression that you were done. I left it at that."

"Yeah, well, I felt like the only one who could leave it at anything was me."

Despite how sticky and tense it was again, you felt relieved that he wasn't as malicious as he was behind the screen. You were relieved that at least the worst of it was over. But it didn't didn't help the burning in your chest, the aching of the bubble in your throat. "Ei really made you do all that stuff? It's not because you really do hate me, right?"

There was no more pretending anymore, no more hiding behind false bravado or dissing each other behind screens like pussies. It was only raw honesty, vulnerable and exposed.

"(Y/N)." His expression softened, a silent dilemma clear on his face. He gathered his own courage, squaring his shoulders a bit and looking at you again. "I'm sorry."

You felt dazed, electricity in the air around you, the world officially tilted on its axis to you. "What?" You accentuated snippier than you intended.

"You were collateral. Nothing that you did deserved what happened to you. Makes sense that you did what you did, you weren't the problem." He explained, shoulders slumped again. "I was behind what I did, at the end of the day; Ei just told me to do it. I'm sorry for being part of the reason you couldn't bounce back. I know if the situation were different, I'd leave you alone."

People kept saying that to you these days, that nothing that happened was because you deserved it. Maybe you never quite got the picture until Kuni said something along the lines of it. You never thought that him apologizing to you would garner the oddest reaction out of you.

Because why was it sexy..? Stop.

"And," He sighed, grabbing your attention lightspeed again. "I would consider liking you more if this all didn't happen. You're alright."

His admission of everything was catching you off guard left and right. You had no idea what to feel with the prominent knot in your stomach. "Do you like me?" "(Y/N), I don't want to—"

"I'm alright, in your words, but do you like me?" Your tone solidified with each word slowly jutting out, assertiveness hardening your composure. "Tell me. Look at me and tell me."

The uncertainly stretched on for what was practically indefinitely. He held his breath, as did you, waiting for his response. Your heart was ruthless against you, beating against your body. He sized you up, seeking an answer for himself.

"...Yeah?" He admitted, voice barely audible as he tried to find his own words. But everything he did think of was so unlike him, out of his personal way of handling things like this. "Yeah. I do."

You blinked, both of your eye contact filling a certain, more romantic space that neither of you even thought was there before today. But the more you realized it, the more you realized that maybe the sexual tension was always there.

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @littlesliceofcheese @yumejo89

@liuaneee @franaby @tiddieshakeshownu @mimi3lover @kavineyah

@kittywagun (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

[bouncybongfairy]

Hello I have an idea. I don’t know if I already sent you something but I don’t think I did so anyways here is my idea

So void gets into stiles body and he’s walking around thinking about his plans until his friend y/n and asks what’s wrong with him they figure out that stiles is actually void and they start talking back in forth until void says something that’s makes y/n’s werwolf suddenly come out and I mean like eyes glowing and fangs come out and then they start talking about y/n’s werewolf power and that she is a hybrid werewolf and then void asks what y/n does with there “prey” and they say I like to play with my food. He says do to me what you do to your “prey” and she does just that and she pins him to the ground and starts to claw at his back and bits his shoulder but he likes it and it just goes down from there.

If you do it then thank you but if you don’t it’s okay, you probably have better things to worry about :) :)

Cat and Mouse Games

Void Stiles x Werewolf Reader

Summary: Thinking Stiles asked you to hang out excited you. After going on a late night hike, he reveals himself to be Void. He teases and gaslights you into letting him fuck the shit out of you.

Word Count: 2.0k+

TW: Rough Smut, Blood Kink, CNC kink.

Account Ref: @kaionyx

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It was Friday and you could barely keep your eyes open on the bus. Sleep deprived, also mentally exhausted from the academic and social aspects of school. Regardless of your exhaustion, Stiles invited you to hang out tonight, lately he’s been his own little world. Isolating himself and acting quite withdrawn when he did converse with you. That being said, you didn’t want to brush him off. After getting home you jumped in the shower. Welcoming the hot water burning your shoulders and back. Hoping it would loosen the tightness in your muscles. You cut the water off and stepped out of the tub. After wrapping your hair in a towel, you sit down at your vanity. Drawing a deep breath in and letting it out with a sigh, you start doing your make-up. Of course you wanted to impress, up until a couple weeks ago you thought there was something between the two of you. So now that he was showing interest in you again, it was important that you made your feelings clear. Not to mention Stiles was already so familiar with the supernatural. Once you were ready you texted him to come pick you up. Scrambling to gather your things together while waiting. He texted you a simple: here. Normally he would have called but you brushed that off and made your way outside. 

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, climbing into the passenger seat of his beat up Jeep.

“How are you?” he asked without looking over. 

“I’m pretty good, tired but good. What about you? I feel like we haven’t hung out in forever,” you chuckled, clicking your seatbelt into place.

“Yeah sorry, I just been discovered new things about myself,” he said. 

“Oooo, so mysterious,” you laugh before continuing, “are you okay though, like mentally? Sorry I don’t mean to pry and you don’t have to answer, I just noticed you’ve been kinda withdrawn lately. Even from Scott,” you said, treading very lightly. 

“I appreciated the concern but like I said, I’ve just been in my own head lately. Realizing things about myself that I needed to deal with, you know?” he asked. 

“Well, I’m just glad that you’re doing better than I thought. I totally understand what you mean, when I get in my head a lot, I usually go on a hike and it really helps. You know, like the fresh air and everything,” you said. 

“That’s crazy because I’ve been doing the same lately. Like nightly walks and stuff to clear my head, can I show you a cool trail I found? It’s one of my favorites,” he suggested and you agreed. 

The ride was pretty chill, just making small talk while the radio played quietly in the background. Even though there was nothing that really stuck out, something was off. Stiles was normally very bubbly and bright. Tonight he was anything but that. Extremely still and calm, never looking over at you when speaking. Keeping his eyes steadily on the road. All his laughs and chuckles seemed forced and dry. Not only that but it was just a feeling in your gut. Finally getting to the hiking trail, your suspicions only grew from there. The conversation was just so surface level, commenting on different plants and random shit. Another thing you noticed, was how unaffected he seemed to be by the cold weather. Eventually you stop entertaining the conversation, just walking in slightly uncomfortable silence.

“It’s a really nice trail right?” he asks. 

“Yeah there are a lot of little critters running around, it’s nice to see how lively it is tonight,” you said. 

“Yeah it’s real unfortunate,” he sighed which made your brows furrow. 

“Unfortunate?” you asked. 

“Well of course, all this prey, just going to waste,” he said, your heart began to race. 

“I’m confused, what do you mean by that,” you asked, slowing your pace down. 

“Oh it’s no secret that you’ve been confused this whole time. Do you think you were good at hiding it? It’s obvious that you think something is off about me, have you come to a conclusion as to why?” he asked, voiced laced with condescension. 

Immediately the realization hits you like a truck; he was Void. Your brain starts flooding with worse case scenarios and questions. Involuntarily your eyes begin to glow and claws come out. Unsure of what to do you just stand and watch him. Nothing in his body language indicated to you that he would try to hurt you. At the same time, you knew what Void was capable of. 

“You know Stiles is still in here and I can’t deny the sexual fantasies he has about you are truly a sight to behold. He is a nasty little guy. He likes the fact that you’re stronger than him. He’s never told you this but watching you hunt gives him a rush like no other. Can’t say I don’t agree-” he tried to continue but was interrupted. 

“What’s your point? Honestly, like… seriously are you just gonna ramble till we both drop dead?” you asked

“Egar are we? Well, like I said I would be lying if I didn’t indulge myself in his fantasies. I mean, look how powerful you are, quite literally an apex predator. Teeth sharper than daggers, claws that can shred flesh like it’s paper. Don’t you wanna give in to your natural instincts?” he asked, making such strong eye contact that you were getting uncomfortable. Shifting back and forth, the fight or flight reflex tethering on the edge of uncontrollable. When you didn’t respond, he continued,

“When you first got turned, it took you a couple months until you could control your impulses right? I just wanna see those instincts in person, how do you normally kill your prey?” he asks. 

“I like to play with it before going for the kill, like hobbling it before finishing the job,” you say quietly, fearing the silence would make you appear weak.

“Say it with your chest, why are you so ashamed of your biological instincts?” he asks, tilting his head to the side a bit, “Show me how you hunt, like i’m your prey,” he half demands half asks. 

“You want me to attack you?” your heart was beating out of your chest, “that’s- I’m not doing that, why would you even want that?” you ask, taking a few steps back. 

“I want to feel your internal conflict, the shift from the good girl persona you sell to well and pull out what’s underneath. A whore that gets off on the most shameful activities. You may fool yourself, however I’m not so easily persuaded,” he said approaching you, he was trying to taunt you and it was working. 

Scott had warned you about how dangerous Void was, that he was the definition of toxicity. Now that he was standing here, inviting you to tear him up the way you would a deer. You felt disgusted that you were actually tempted to attack him. It was true, when you hunted you felt powerful. Like there was nothing that could stop your reign of terror on your chosen prey or target. He was now only a foot away from you, eyes were completely black. Jaw was clenched, indicating that he was getting impatient. Your eyes were locked on him, pushing him back which only hummored him. Becoming irritated with the anxiety building up inside, you turn and walk away. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having a second more of your attention. This infuriated him, an all powerful Nogitsune such as himself was never to be ignored. To be denied a request; seeing you walk away from him only made him watch you unravel you more. 

“You think you can ignore me? The same way you’ve ignored all the urges and needs swarming in your brain on a full moon? I will get what I want out of you, making you act on every sinful desire you have. Even if I have to reach down your throat and rip it out myself!” he roared, stomping towards you while shaking in anger. 

Something in you snapped, the taunting was enough to make you go crazy. All you wanted was for him to shut the fuck up. Jumping on top of him, you use your claws and swipe at his chest. Blood starts seeping through his cotton shirt, taking a look at his face to catch the reaction. To your dismay, he chuckles letting his head fall back. It wasn’t until then that you realized what he meant when saying he wanted to see your internal conflict. This was conflicting; expecting to look up to see him damaged. Normally giving you a satisfied feeling but this was different, normally content in a platonic way. The way his head fell back and the smirk on his face. You couldn’t deny being turned on by how twisted he was. How unaffected he seemed to be by your attacks. Adding another slash across his chest, it felt so good being vicious. For so long you’d bent your instincts to Scott’s mission of keeping the peace in Beacon Hills. Letting your mind be wrapped in a foggy daze while letting your urges run wild was an intoxicating feeling. He pulled his shirt off, hands becoming soaked in blood. He reaches up and takes your face into his hands. Leaving bloody hand prints on your cheeks. Pulling you down so your lips were hovering over one another. You could feel the blood from his chest seep into your shirt. Starting to fall deeper into the kiss, you let your full body weight press onto him. He suddenly flips the two of you over swiftly, now keeping a tight hold on your hair. His hands were sticky with blood, only making for a better grip. 

“Did you really think I'd let you use me to satisfy yourself without a fight?” he asked, holding you down with his body weight. 

Feeling a little too vulnerable, you bite down on his shoulder. Feeling his skin pop as your canines break through. He lets out a loud groan, leaning into the bite which makes your lower stomach burn with pleasure. He pulls your head up slightly by the hair and pulls it back down, indicating he wanted you to let go after a while. You refuse; after realizing he was caught in your jaw, he moves his hands from your hair to your throat. Hair still stuck to his hands, which covered your face as he changed hand placement. At first it seemed like you’d be able to keep this up. Until his grip became tighter and your breathing became strained. Towering over you and focusing most of his weight on your throat. Your vision was becoming blurry and cloudy, you scratched at his shoulders. When this doesn't phase him, you rake your claws down his back. Trying to put in the last of your strength into shredding his back before passing out. 

Void watched as your eyes become glossy, the feeling of your nails in his back making him rock hard. Chuckling as your arms went limp, falling off his back and to the ground. He let go of your throat and turned his attention to your body. He lifted your skirt and pulled your panties to the side. Muttering a couple curses as he uses his fingers to feel how wet you were. Even your thighs were wet and sticky from you leaking desperately for his cock. He uses one hand to rub himself against your entrance and the other hand to start slapping your chest. Watching you bounce as he tried waking you up. Once you started coming to, he began fucking himself into you. Moaning as you started becoming more aware of what was happening. Blood drips from his back and shoulder onto your body. The only thing you were focused on was chasing your orgasm. Rocking your hips into him, trying to get him as deep as possible. Noticing this, his thrusts become rough and fast. His hip bones piercing into your ass painfully. Gripping your hips hard enough to embed his nails into your skin. 

“What kind of whore gets off on this? Are you that desperate for attention?” he taunted as he destroyed your pussy. 

You let your body go limp, enjoying and accepting anything he had to offer. He moved his hands back to your throat. Seeing your face turn red and gasping for air was what sent him over the edge. His climax racking through his body, you came slightly before him. Seeing how your helplessness and pain was enough to make him cum was what made you climax. By the time both of you rode out the highs, you felt completely worn out. Like your body was carrying the weight of a ton, forcing you to stay on the ground. His shoes walking away were the last thing you saw before losing consciousness.

[txttletale]

You've helped expose me to a lot of theory that I hadn't read before, and I'm realizing i need to read more theory for real, like. Actually. That being said; The more I start to lean into communist thoughts and not just anti capitalist, I find myself becoming warped and joyless. How does it not take a tole on you? The constant reminder of the endless suffering of the oppressed? How do I enjoy art when I am forced to see all of it as a coerced product, suffering for my entertainment? The constant guilt of life is something I dont think I can stomach at all times. Am i supposed too? (BTW; I mean this more so as an ask of how you do it, not to argue that because suffering is hard to look at we should actually just go back to the status quo and ignore it. I'm just like. Not sure how to deal with it, I guess.)

i don't really feel guilty about anything so i don't know how much i can help. i guess i just think that using communism as like a lense to judge your own individual morality as many people like to do is bound to make you miserable to no real avail. that's not the purpose of communist theory, the point of communist theory is to analyze society and history and guide mass-scale poltical action, not tell you if you're evil for watching the new star wars or whatevsies.

i guess i also personally find that reading socialist history and the more practical, grounded-in-praxis types of theory is liberatory and fills me with optimisim--reading about, e.g., social systems in cuba or people's democracy in the early soviet union is helpful in dispelling the 'oh, everything's going to be horrible forever, socialism is just a utopian pipe dream' insinct that i think liberal hegemony instills in most people, by showing how people took actual sensible pragmatic steps to introduce things like workplace democracy, universal healthcare, women's equality, mass literacy, etc. post-revolution. it helps you understand that communism is not a magic wizard who will come and save us all but yknow something that is doable and achievable by human beings.

[silly-writes]

Hi! I love your work! Can you do a Mike + alters, Scott, Alejandro (seperate) x reader where the reader has really bad sensory issues, especially with loud noises, and can have panic attacks from them? if your not okay with writing this then that’s totally fine /gen. it’s important to take care of yourself.

Contestants with reader who gets overstimulated.

Aaa thank u for this request anon! Yes i'm totally comfortable writing this kind of stuff! Thanks for being so kind about it! As an autistic person with really bad sensory issues myself I actually find it a thearputic, lol. Okay enough about me, enjoy!

Mike

dealing with a traumagenic disorder (DID) I would imagine he's honestly kind of in the same boat.

He's no stranger to panic attacks, and is pretty well versed by now in how to deal with them.

The first time it happens though he's sort of an anxious wreck, he's just nervous that trying to help might make it worse, but he doesn't want to leave your side.

He gives you lot's of words of encouragement, and helps you through breathing exercises, and gets you plenty of water.

"It's okay, breathe with me, I'm right here," he assures you gently.

If you require pressure/physical contact during your panic attacks, he's more than happy to give you that.

He gets good at catching them too, he'll always be able to identify when you're about to spiral because of too much noise or too bright lights, and he'll find a quiet secluded room so he can work through it with you.

"Sorry you have to deal with this too," you said, after a particularly bad one, you still felt dizzy, and tears still stained your face, but you had come out of it now, and felt a little guilty.

"Hey don't apologize, I don't mind. Not at all."

He's just very caring with this kind of stuff in general.

Manitoba

Maintoba is similar to Mike, and I would think he likes to carry around a backpack whenever he is fronting (you never know when you're going to run into treasure). So he always keeps noise canceling headphones and a pair of sunglasses in there just for you.

Honestly I headcanon him as the caretaker of the system, so I imagine he's used to caring for people during panic attacks.

He's very observant, probably even more so than Mike, so he's better at avoiding them all together by identifying what situations you can handle and what you can't.

He always does a little research before the two of you go out in the environment to ensure that it doesn't seem loud/bright/overstimulating.

However sometimes these things are just unavoidable, and inevitable.

He'll provide you with whatever physical comfort you require, if any at all.

Anything you need, he's there to get for you.

"Take all the time in the world treasure, I'll still be here," he said.

He's all around good at keeping you grounded, and just good at being there with you.

Svetlana

I would think Svetlana is probably the protector/gatekeeper, most of her comfort comes from her just being fiercely loyal.

She'll be there no matter what, and you take great comfort in that fact.

She's not as good with being traditionally comforting, since it's a little out of her element.

Not that she doesn't try of course, she really cares about you, and she wants that to come across.

(I would think she would panic a little and ask Manitoba and Mike for help from the inner world).

But she would absolutely stay with you, coaching you through breathing exercises, talking to try and distract you.

Eventually if you let her know what you need (be it space, a distracting, physical comfort, quiet, dark) you name it, she will get it for you.

She's much better at caring for you after the panic attack honestly, when you feel really tired and put out, disoriented and just overwhelmed.

"Svetlana's here now to melt all your worries away," she smiled at you once.

She'll almost always bring you home, or take you to a secluded room, and just hangout with you. She'll turn all the lights off and sit in silence with you so you can have basically zero sensory input for a little while.

She'll absolutely stay with you until you feel yourself again.

Mal

Okay things with Mal are a little tricky.

He's for sure a former prosecutor and after a bit of system healing, definitely prosecutor turned protector.

Don't get me wrong though, he can still be a little nasty and snarky sometimes, but he's working on getting better.

Which is why he feels sort of out of his element when he's with you when you're having a panic attack.

He's not good at being comforting, and he barely knows what to do when he has a panic attack, so the first time it happens he completely freezes up.

He might even let someone else front to help you out instead of him.

After a while he gets better at keeping up with your triggers, and while he remains pretty awful at being comforting, he's good at grounding you.

He's glad sometimes that being there is enough sometimes, he doesn't know what he'd do if it wasn't.

"Sorry I can't do more..." he said one day.

You smile at him "You being here is enough sometimes."

Scott

Scott is also somewhat of a wreck I would imagine.

Growing up fairly isolated on a farm he's understandably really rough with being intune with people's emotions, he's not really all that good at reading you. Or anyone for that matter.

The first few times, he's shocked everytime.

What could be making you feel like this? He had no idea.

He would definitely need a list of all of your triggers, you have to tell him what helps you and what doesn't outright. Scott doesn't really like playing guessing games, especially when it comes to your safety and comfort.

Clear communication becomes pretty important for the two of you in all honesty, and the two of you work at it all the time.

Eventually he gets better at serving you during panic attacks, or meltdowns, he knows what to do after a little while.

Again I would think he's really good at protecting, so I think he's super good at keeping people away when he sees you're overstimulated.

"Don't touch them!" he huffed when someone was trying to tap you to get your attention.

Overall, he's really really trying for you, and knowing that is comfort enough.

Alejandro

It's no secret that Alejandro is very intune with people, just one of his many skills.

So he can tell right away from his very first meeting you, any loud noises, bright lights, things like that just don't mix well with you.

He steers clear of them when around you, always guiding you more towards quieter, much calmer and secluded dates.

When driving he turns the music down, and makes sure that all audio input looks like its helping you and not harming you.

Plus I feel like (and this is totally me projecting btw) he would carry around stim toys for you to distract yourself with, and headphones for when things are a lot.

But again, sometimes things just happen, and try as he might to protect you, it's not always possible.

He can always tell when things are getting to be a lot for you, he's good at reading everyone but you in specific.

He's really good at covering for you, if someone is asking where you are, or needs/wants to talk to you when you need to be alone he'll keep them away from you.

He'll spend as much time as you need helping you.

"Are you feeling better mi amor?" He would ask.

"Almost-" you said, voice a little course and shaky "-sorry," you said softly.

"Don't apologize, I don't mind at all."

Alejandro can be really nurturing when he wants to be.

He might deny it, deny it to the ends of the earth but he's very good at taking care of you.

[simplepotatofarmer]

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Alienation & Spite

tuesday morning, 8:47 a.m.

characters: technoblade, dream word count: 1,541

I've been in this room before.

The last time, ages ago, it was brief. Techno had practically rushed me out after ringing the bell a few times. That felt like something that had to be done, some stupid ritual that you signed up for the moment you stepped into the cabin. He had come back, a little later, and made sure I wasn't watching as he opened the secret chest in the back of the room.

I knew where it was. I could go over right now and open the chest and take whatever the hell I wanted and Techno wouldn't stop me. It wasn't a secret anymore and that felt...

It felt shitty for no reason. Of course he didn't bother hiding those things anymore. I've been living in his house for months, what was there to hide? But fuck man. He could at least pretend things were normal.

Ugh.

Rolling over, I shoved one of the pillows into my face and resisted the urge to scream. If I did, Techno would hear. He would climb up the ladder and ask if everything was alright and I would lie. I should feel bad for lying; I know he's trying to help but I don't want help, I want to be left alone.

It's easier. No one gets that. No one understands that everything still hurts or that I feel wrong without a potion or that food makes me want to vomit or that I don't want to leave the cabin. I don't even want to leave the room.

Techno calls it wallowing. Maybe he's right. Maybe I don't care.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the sunlight reflecting off the bell and block of emerald. Something about that makes me angry. I've been angry a lot, I guess. It knots in my chest and I want to tear it out. I want to punch something. I want to punch myself. I settle for dragging my nails against my skin until its red and stings. It doesn't calm the anger that's making my eyes water. Without thinking, I throw the pillow across the room, at the bell.

It makes a low chiming sound and I groan.

As expected, a few moments later, Techno pokes his head up, arms resting on the floor. He's worried. I tug my sleeves down over my arms, hiding the scratches. Not that Techno would be mad. That's the problem. He'd understand. He'd say it's okay and it's not.

"Hey, Dream. You rang?"

It was funny and I have to fight the smile.

"No. That—That was an accident."

His eyes slide towards the bell and sees the pillow on the ground.

"Ah."

I don't say anything.

"How about you come downstairs, man? I'll make you some breakfast."

I still don't say anything. I stare at the ceiling.

"C'mon on man."

He talks so softly, the same way he does to his animals and it's another thing I want to be pissed about except I've heard him use the same tone with Phil, with Ranboo or Niki.

So stupid.

I want things to be normal but it is and I'm still mad.

"I'm not hungry," I lie. I'm starving. I want a potion.

"Alright." Techno reaches out and tugs the blanket up over me. He's stretching precariously. "How about we make a deal? I'll leave you alone for a bit but you've gotta promise to come down for dinner."

His words hang in the air a bit and I roll my eyes.

"Or what?"

Techno laughs.

"Or I'll carry your scrawny behind downstairs my dang self," he says.

I believe him.

"God. Fine, Techno."

He laughs again.

“See ya later, Dream.”

His head disappears back downstairs. Already I regret agreeing to his stupid deal. He won’t actually drag me downstairs if I change my mind, I know that. I roll over the other way, facing the ladder. On the bedside table is a bottle of water and Techno’s communicator. Mine is gone and has been since Sam took it. I reach over and grab Techno’s. It’s only 8:47 a.m. Dinner is a long way off.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

I’m worried.

It’s kinda hard not to be worried when you have a man in your bedroom who’ll barely move and barely eat. I don’t mind. Well, I do, just not in the way Dream thinks I do. He thinks I want him out, gone out of my life. I had to fight against his idiotic plan to fake a parting of ways while we were in prison. The only thing I want is—

It’s lame, chat, I know.

I want him to be okay. The first few weeks, he hardly moved because he couldn’t. He wasn’t in any kind of shape. The thought of what happened to him in that cell after I left haunts me. How can you make up for that?

I pull the raw beef out of the ice chest. A good steak is a start. I wouldn’t have made something that required so much chewing a couple months ago but Dream’s jaw had healed. And I know he’s a steak man when he’s not relying on potions or golden apples. I’ve caught him sneaking both after days of refusing food.

Fighting the urge to keep walking over to stand at the bottom of the ladder is the hardest part. I want to go back up and check on him again. He had been quick at pulling his sleeves down but I saw the marks on his arms. If I had said something, it might have made him withdraw even more.

I’ll make him a cake.

I have no idea if he’ll eat it but he might. It’s something to occupy my time and something to do to show him I care. He knows, he’s gotta know by this point but sometimes he lays there like he doesn’t know anything anymore. I don’t blame him. He has that lost look in his eyes every so often and I know he’s pulling away because it’s easier.

I know, I’ve been there. This cabin was built to get away from everything. It took some time to realize I was being a fool. Dream will get there, I’ve got faith in him. He’s been through a lot and he still smiles sometimes.

I’m on autopilot baking. Niki’s recipe is well-worn by this point and I don’t need to have it sitting out but that’s habit, too. It’s a nice reminder. By the time the cake is in the oven, the sun is midpoint in the sky. The beef’s been marinating for awhile. I glance towards the living room and sigh.

Just a quick check, I won’t even go up the ladder.

Standing at the base, I can’t hear anything. That’s probably a good sign. Hopefully, he’s sleeping. Sleep hasn’t been easy for him which means it’s not been great for me, either, and I can sleep through a lot. Except the person next to me lashing out or screaming. It hurts. Not the times he’s hit me on accident but hearing a friend say ‘no’ and ‘please’ and ‘stop’ over and over.

I’ve gotta stop thinking about it. I know Dream’s picked up on my worry and I know sometimes it makes him feel weird. I get it, I do.

By the time the cake is cooled and has a nice layer of green frosting on it, the steaks are also done and the sun is lower in the sky. I pat my pockets, looking for my communicator to check the time, but I must’ve misplaced it again. I make another mental reminder to put a clock somewhere and head over to the ladder.

Dream is pretending to sleep, I can tell.

“Dinner time.”

He opens one eye. I smile. He opens the other and sighs as he props himself up.

“I’m—I’m not hungry.”

It’s the same thing as earlier and it’s still a lie, I know it. I raise an eyebrow and look at him silently. After a moment, a slight tinge of pink is on his cheeks.

Got ‘em.

“Ugh, fine,” he says as he swings his legs out of bed. “You’re so annoying.”

“I know, Dream, I know.” I slide down the ladder and wait for him. When he climbs down, I put my hand out, hovering near his back, just in case. “I’ve made you a real special dinner.”

“What? Why?”

I stop in front of the kitchen table. Some of the icing on the cake has melted a bit but the steaks look good. Dream is next to me. He looks confused. He looks sad. I put my arm around his shoulders. They still feel awfully boney.

“Because it’s your four month anniversary of stayin’ here, man. We’ve gotta celebrate.”

Dream’s voice rises in pitch.

“What?”

I know that tone. He’s struggling not to smile and rolling his eyes. I nudge my nose against the side of his head and pull him a little closer. He doesn’t pull away.

“We’re celebratin’, Dream. I even made you a cake.”

“This is so stupid,” he says but he’s leaning against me and I wrap my arms around him and hug him.

“Let’s eat.”

@sixteenth-day-event

[nicollekidman]

abby, sorry to get extremely real on a friday night but like how do you deal with feelings of environmental existentialism (for lack of a better term) that you may have. It feels like it's hit especially hard this week and I'm sure Tuesday is a factor in that but I do not enjoy the feeling, at 28, of time accelerating into an uncertain but generally unpleasant singularity, actually

i love this question because this is one of the biggest fears of my life because of my debilitating fear of death and yknow my general love for being alive and the people on this planet. the short term direct answer is that i often don't deal at all. i often feel sharp pain and edge into true panic until i distract myself, and looking at my weather app often makes me choke.

but the larger answer is that it's actually our responsibility not to (over)indulge in climate grief. we are not speeding headfirst, heedless and uncontrolled into a singularity. the trends are not good, the damage is making itself known, but things are never hopeless. there are thousands and thousands of human beings who have dedicated their lives to studying, remedying, and speaking out about the damage done to our climate. and there are solutions. there are breakthroughs every single day! succumbing to depressive existentialism is not only not helpful, but does actually ignore a lot of the progress that is being made! things are dire and have been dire but they are NOT hopeless.

i find that these feelings hit hardest when i have been the most isolated, and that they piggyback on feelings of despondency about other things i see going Wrong in the world (and there is a lot!). but everything is connected. finding ways to spend time with others, spend time outdoors, use your voice/money for Action (whether protesting, volunteering, working, even just having conversations with others), all these things ease the emotional burden. recognizing that everything feels #unprecedented because we are more connected to global information than any other time in history while simultaneously becoming increasingly isolated and individualized helps ground the feelings in context in a way i find helpful.

climate grief is inexorable from grief over genocide, capitalism, racism, misogyny.... everything is connected. and just as we have the privilege and responsibility of never giving into the urge to hide away from any of the other things, taking action and feeling connected to community around you makes fighting these things feel possible.

being alive is SUCH a gift and whatever the future holds is never a guarantee, even if the climate was exactly the same as it was when you were born. we are only given so much time, and the best way to experience literally anything other than terror and rage (i have found) is just to move outside my own self a little. to take a deep breath and sink my toes into the earth and try to remember there are so so so many people making both incremental and massive change every day, and that giving up on someone you love before they die is never the right choice. we can always do something, and/or amplify those who are.

and sometimes? it's a simple as calling it quits on the scrolling and just creating something, even just. cooking. or watering a houseplant. or closing your eyes and singing as loud as you can while crying. you know?

(if i remember tomorrow i will link some pieces about dealing with climate grief/hope, because it actually does help that everyone who works in the field is absolutely uniform in saying outlandish extenstial dread is not a useful space to live in)

[thetriplets3]

hi i have a request 😁

a slow dancing in a parking lot vibe

❝𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞❞

warnings: swearing, shitty bf saying shitty things

shoutout to @emmssturniolo for editing go show her some love

matt and i have known each other for years before we started dating. he’s been there for all my shitty boyfriends who left me feeling like i wasn’t worthy of love and questioning if they loved me the way i loved them. matt knew all the cliché things i always wanted to do, but my exes refused saying i was embarrassing them.

i made my way through the dark parking lot, my head constantly checking around me to make sure no one was following me. i hate walking alone in the dark; it’s so much easier for things to hide i don’t feel safe. i make it Jake’s mom’s 2000 Toyota Echo and i can already hear the obnoxiously loud music playing on the radio. i know he knows i don’t like loud music or noise in small spaces, he chooses to do it anyway. opening my door and sitting in my seat, i cringe at the volume, reaching to turn the volume down to a bearable level.

“don’t touch the fucking volume” he snaps as he turns it back up.

slinking myself further into the seat, i roll my eyes at his behavior. the next song starts, and i can’t help but let a little gasp out.

“i love this song! let’s dance!” i suggest, excitement evident in my voice.

“stop with that shit; i’m not doing that with you; it’s embarrassing” he spits, turning the car engine on and driving out of the lot.

i’m used to it. it’s always the same thing every time i wanna do something “coupley” he refuses saying he won’t do it with me it’s embarrassing. i always had this idea of a fairytale relationship and this was far from it. i couldn’t deal with him anymore today; he was constantly shutting me down, dismissing me, or being snapping at me.

“can you drop me off at nick’s please?” i quietly ask, scared of his response

without a word, he turns onto the triplets street, stopping the car in front of their house. “get out” bitterness filling his voice. slamming the car door on my way out i storm up their driveway, filled with emotion. i turn around, raising both my arms in the air, and flip him off, finishing it with “fuck you jake” as loud as i can. the boys have always told me i don’t need to knock but i do except for today, i just needed to see someone who wasn’t jake. that someone was matt.

matt patiently listened to me rant about how shitty jake made me feel and ask what i did wrong.

matt knows me better than anyone. i feel stupid for not seeing it sooner; it would have saved me from a lot of heartbreaking relationships. on days i don’t feel well he stops what he’s doing to come be with me, stopping at the store to get my favorite things to cheer me up. whether a day is the worst day of my life, the best day of my life, or just a normal day, he’s there with my favorite flowers. knowing how much i love them he’ll find any excuse to get me them just to see the smile on my face. i never had to remind him of things; he knows me inside out; what music i listen to (he even has a playlist of all my favorite songs); he can sense when i’m getting overwhelmed and want to get away from whatever it is that we’re doing; he knows that i find his hand cradling my head during a hug to be grounding; he listens like actually listens; his eyes are so intently watching and hanging on to every word.

i always felt like i had to remind my exes to love me, but with matt he was the one reminding me i’m loved. he did everything no one else cared to do and he paid attention to things most people ignored. everything he does melts my heart because i’ve never been treated like this. like i deserve.

today was one of those days where everything just feels off and you can’t pinpoint why. facetiming matt in the morning, he seemed to have noticed i wasn’t my normal self. bringing it up in the most gentle way he suggested going for a drive.

“is everything okay sweetheart? you don’t need to explain, i just want to know if you’re okay. how about we go for a drive later tonight? clear your head. let me bare some of the weight from your shoulders” the love and tenderness in his voice is all the confirmation i’ll ever need.

sitting on the old wooden bench by the front door, i slip my socks and shoes on just as matt knocks on the door. opening the door i collapse into his arms before he takes my hand and walks me to his car. planting a soft kiss to the back of my hand before dropping it to open my door.

“my love” he says with a little bow, making me giggle.

our linked hands lie on the center console, matt’s thumb mindlessly rubbing the back of my hand. the smallest gestures make me feel so loved. tonight’s destination of choice was the empty parking lot of a frozen yogurt shop. our first date. our deep conversations are always my favorite, he’s so emotionally intelligent i love listening to him voice his thoughts, opinions, and advice. to lighten the mood after those deep talks he softly plays music. immediately i recognize the song, a smile toying at my lips.

“i-” my voice trails off, remembering what happened every time i mentioned a song and how some made me wanna dance.

“what? go on” he urges me to continue, turning his body in his seat to face me giving me his full attention.

another thing i love about matt is his patience. he knows i tend to bite my tongue when it comes to sharing my opinions because i was afraid of the response i’d get, so he encourages me to continue, in turn reassuring me that my thoughts and opinions are valid.

“i love this song it’s so beautiful” i say

without a word, matt gets out of the car and walks around the car, leaving me confused until my door opens and matt’s there with his hand out for me to grab hold of.

“may i have this dance, pretty girl?” he asks, letting a laugh slip through his serious façade.

“i’d love to” i whisper.

letting go of my hand for a second he reaches into the car and turns the volume up just loud enough for us to hear it. i smile to myself at his thoughtful gesture, making sure i was out of the car before turning the volume up. no one’s ever taken so much consideration to make sure i’m comfortable like he does.

my thoughts are interrupted by matt circling his arms around my waist, instantly my hands finding their home at the nape of his neck and in his hand. pulling me closer to him, i rest my head on his shoulder, the smell of his cologne bringing me even more comfort. our bodies sway to the music enjoying this moment.

matt gently pushes my body away from his and raises our joined hands, ready to twirl me. it wasn’t the most graceful twirl ever, filled with giggles at my lack of dancing skills. as i turn back to face matt i let go of his hand and wrap both my hands at the nape of his neck mindlessly playing with his hair. our eyes are locked on each other, having a conversation of their own. with watery eyes and a big smile, i’ve never felt so loved. he has done everything and more than anyone else has and he never lets me forget how much he loves me.

matt rests his forehead against mine, eyes starting into mine. softly, he whispers the lyrics to me, never breaking eye contact

❝𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞❞

a few tears escape my eyes. this isn’t his type of music at all yet he’s made the effort to listen to it and remember the words knowing how much i love this song. no one will ever love me more than matt, he’s it for me, he’s all i’ve ever needed.

“i love you thank you for showing me what it feels like to be unconditionally loved. i can’t wait for a lifetime of being loved by you” i gush.

“loving you was never something i had to think about; it’s just natural. how can anyone look at you and not see that you deserve every star in the universe? you shine so brightly that i can’t believe people made you feel like you should hide that light. you are worthy of love and i’m happy i get to be the one to show you. i love you sweet girl. i’ll love you for a lifetime and every one after that. you’re the sun to me” he confesses, placing a loving tender kiss on my lips.

taglist: @antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @lollibumblebee @ssturniolo @20nugs @abbie13sworld

[thrashkink-coven]

Hey there! I've been looking on Tumblr for someone who is experienced in ritual work with deities and isn't exclusive to Greek or Norse gods/goddesses. I've been practicing for a bit less than 3 years and I'm quite new to Demonolatry, and I don't know anyone who shares knowledge or experience on it, so I wanted to reach out for advice to someone who knows their craft. And I saw that you work with Lucifer so I was hoping you'd know about it?

I recently did a ritual (I practice traditional Demonolatry) and while I meditated I fell into a sudden trance. I've done meditation and rituals before, but this was completely new and I have never experienced this. I suddenly got scared because I didn't know what was happening and my body was moving like on it's own. Or maybe I imagined that?

I wanted to ask if this is normal, if you've ever experienced something like that? Does deep trance happen during ritual? Because I'm a bit uneasy about it and don't know how to go from here since there was a lot of energy that I didn't know where it came from and I just rushed out of the ritual. Do you have any advice or know someone who could help me? Thanks in advance.

Hi, yes! This has definitely happened to me before, most prominently when I was first really getting into my practice with Archangels. What I believe may have happened is that you had your first major "breakthrough" which is naturally unnerving because its so unnatural.

I've made a post in the past about "third eye opening techniques," and mentioned that once you start really falling into your first trance, your brain will usually snap you out of it. You'll get butterflies or feel like you're falling, and your brain will automatically make you "wake up". It may force a thought if only to make sure you can still think because your mind is so abnormally quiet; the only other time you enter this kind of "wavelength" is when you are in deep sleep, or dying. The brain is naturally averted to these things. However, in the right environment, when things align in a peculiar way, you may be more predisposed to accepting a trance. This happens most often to me when I'm seriously focused on meditating on a sigil or enn to the point where I become completely consumed with my intention of channeling a deity or spirt. This is very hard to describe with words, but you feel as though everything has stopped, you're almost a part of the environment whilst simultaneously not being "there". You're inside your body but you're not, and everything is quiet and connected.

What this really is, is a minor ego death. People who take psychedelics probably empathize easily with this feeling. Once you start learning how to counteract the natural abortive instinct, you will enter a trance like state.

The very first time I truly experienced this was with Archangel Jophiel, who has been a massive guide to me in my craft in regards to dealing with my disbelief and skepticism. I remember falling into a deep trance, in which I felt like I was no longer even in my body, but I could feel myself rising from a laying to sitting position, and when Jophiel ordered me to, I extended my hand out to him without controlling it. I immediately snapped out of it, freaked out and questioned my experience for days afterwards.

This isn't actually all that uncommon, especially in regards to deity work, mediumship and necromancy. Automatic writing for example, is a form of divination in which practitioners allow a deity or spirit to move their hand when holding a pencil. The resulting words or drawing are then interpreted by the practitioner when they have returned from the trance state.

These things can happen on accident, but its important that it's not happening unintentionally often, as this can result in developing a dissociative disorder. Grounding exercises that are typically used for things like anxiety and panic attacks can actually help very much with staying planted after a trance or an astral journey.

If you're interested in things like divination, mediumship or astral projection then practicing this skill could be very useful to you. It is a very helpful avenue for me when communicating with Lucifer. However if the idea makes you uncomfortable or distressed, using sensory tools and textures during meditation can help greatly in remaining connected to your body even while in states of deep focus. This experience is usually freaky to anyone who has it, so I wouldn't worry about it too much.

One book that I read that helped me really understand this phenomenon was "The Book of Spirit Communications" by Raymond Buckland. It speaks about the history of Mediumship as well as some techniques to practice entering trance states.

[velvetvexations]

This is an edited version of something I posted to r/DaystromInstitute, a Star Trek sub. I'm proud of it and, having deleted my account, want to preserve it here.

Dukat is a fantastic example of Narcissitic Personality Disorder

I'm an individual with Narcissistic Personality Disorder. It's very, extremely frustrating to see people claim everyone from Dolores Umbridge to Donald Trump also have NPD because they're like, just the worst. NPD doesn't mean "selfish", or "controlling", or even "self-absorbed", and certainly is not a synonym for abusive, despite all the self-help books that say sniping a narcissist who came within eight hundred yards of you is legally permissible under Stand Your Ground laws.

You might expect me to not be so appreciative of Dukat, who is, after all, a pretty horrible person. I actually have a worse opinion of Dukat's supposed nobility than many, as fairly often the fandom prefers to back the idea that he really was a misguided anti-villain who only succumbed to devil-worshipping when the writers assassinated his character.

Well, unfortunately, it's harder to recognize authentic NPD traits in heroes, and "recognize" is a term I use loosely, since most writers certainly didn't have NPD in mind at all. Nonetheless, I love Dukat because he exemplifies a nuanced, if not overly flattering, portrayal of a personality disorder that actual human beings deal with, and 99% of the time is just flattened into a thing you call people you don't like.

As a child, one thing that did a lot to mitigate the more negative social aspects of NPD was having it imprinted on my brain by anime and video games that being a Hero and as good as possible was the best thing to be. While praise and attention in general does scratch a powerful itch too, once my child-self internalized the values of the media I consumed - helped along by also being autistic - the standard for which I judged myself was set. I would literally cry if I accidentally picked up dark side points in a Star Wars game.

I think Dukat went through a similar process. Not all narcissists cling to a model centering morality, but Dukat, for one reason or another, did. He sincerely believes everything he does is altruistic and fair, and more than that, he wants to be altruistic and fair, having misidentified the origin of his cravings.

Another thing that helped me a lot growing up was a book called The Screwtape Letters. If you're unfamiliar, it's by CS Lewis and is presented as a series of letters from a high-ranked demon to his nephew, who works as essentially a shoulder devil attempting to guide his patient into sin and disconnection from God. I feel like Lewis would probably be annoyed with me not getting anything properly Christian out of it, but it is an amazing manual for teaching you how to examine your own thinking and subconscious impulses. It started me down a path of being very self-aware, which made it easier to navigate NPD, because I'm incapable of tolerating the flaws in my internal logic that I'm able to catch. If I may be excused for saying so, I think I do a decent job on that count, with the downside that I'm often far too hyper-critical and it results in regular anxiety.

But Dukat never learned that skill. As a result, his attempted nobility clashes with his other competing impulses, and all his actions are reinforced, rather than rejected, by his conscious, which his NPD assures him is being followed to the letter. As Lewis said:

The baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity at some point may be sated; and since he dimly knows he is doing wrong he may possibly repent. But the Inquisitor who mistakes his own cruelty and lust of power and fear for the voice of Heaven will torment us infinitely more because he torments us with the approval of his own conscience and his better impulses appear to him as temptations.

Dukat's inner struggle is fueled by the need to be a revered benefactor while also having served at the head of the bastard offspring of the Iraq War and Holocaust. His solution at the time was to make it more like the Second Boer War, the conflict that originally popularized the term "concentration camp" despite the fact that those concentration camps weren't even meant to eliminate the thousands that were killed in them.

DUKAT: So in my first official act as Prefect, I ordered all labour camp commanders to reduce their output quotas by fifty percent. Then I reorganized the camps themselves. Child labour was abolished. Medical care was improved. Food rations were increased. At the end of one month of my administration, the death rate had dropped by twenty percent. Now how did the Bajorans react to all this? On my one month anniversary they blew up an orbital dry-dock, killing over two hundred Cardassian soldiers and workers. "KIRA": We didn't want a reconciliation. We wanted to destroy you. DUKAT: So I had to order a response. But even then it was a carefully tempered one. I ordered two hundred suspected members of the Resistance rounded up and executed. Two hundred lives for two hundred lives. That's justice, not malevolence. Justice.

Throughout the episode the Kira hallucination embodies the disrespected and ingratitude he feels he gets for being "nice". Cardassian values, attitudes, and objectives came first. Dukat, however, was smart enough to understand some of what was being done to Bajor was wrong, but not quite able to tear himself away from his own identity as a Cardassian and the protagonist of the universe. That was just too much to totally upend, as would be required to fully comprehend the reality of the situation.

So he tries, in his own way. Because he wants to be a good guy, the hero, the main character, and he truly believes that he is. Unfortunately, it remains pointed solidly in the direction of his own ego. He's unable to recognize that to err is Cardassian, but repentance divine, because he's already invested in so much. His identity as a Cardassian, his own past actions, his impulsive grabs for power, and being convinced he's such a good man shields him from thinking critically because it would necessarily mean criticizing himself. Dukat can only truly appreciate that he's made mistakes when it makes him feel like he's being the bigger man willing to compromise and graciously admit fault, but he was in charge of the Occupation for twenty years. It's hard to walk back from that.

And I should know, because even understanding I'm the one at fault, it's pulling teeth to force myself through accepting I did wrong, much less admitting it to someone else. I don't want to be someone who fucked up, no matter how minor. Pulling teeth. Quite a lot of NPD can be described that way, in fact. While half-brained wannabee psychologists present narcissists as being sociopathic manipulators who skillfully terrorize those around them, most of NPD is horrible, chest-thumping anxiety. It's not fun at all to want to break my controller in half every single time I get got in a game of Splatoon, even when the round is far from over.

Most Cardassians involved with the Occupation seemed to be either outright monsters or falling under the "banality of evil", like Damar. They considered the Bajorans as, at best, a bunch of backwards hicks who needed to shut up and listen to their betters. Dukat, though, fetishized Bajor and the Bajorans themselves, as quite creepily seen in his string of Bajoran lovers and his dogged pursuit of Kira throughout the show (which horrifically took Nana Visitor putting her foot down to keep from being canon!). He pursed his tenure as head of the Occupation with the zeal of someone who truly wanted his subjects to see he was doing all this for their own good.

The Dominion and most other Cardassians don't give a fuck if your subjects like you except insofar as it's convenient and makes them less likely to rebel. That's the Dominion's whole thing, they just want control, and if the carrot doesn't work they'll shrug and without a hint of emotion give you the stick. It doesn't matter to them how they're in charge as long as they are. When Dukat makes his point about having only executed two-hundred (suspected!) members of the Resistance, the Weyoun hallucination comments:

"WEYOUN": The Dominion would never have been so generous.

It's telling that Dukat is fixated on the contrast between him and the people he allied with enough for it to show up in his breakdown. Just a little before that, Dukat says:

DUKAT: Major Kira knows full well I made every effort to heal the wounds between Cardassia and Bajor. Since the very beginning it was my intention to rectify the mistakes of the past and begin a new chapter in our relations.

Dukat is capable of saying, vaguely, abstractly, "mistakes were made", but it infuriates and honestly baffles him that it's not enough for him to be recognized as the most brilliant and loving extraterrestrial patriarch the Bajorans could ever wish for. In an earlier episode, he has this conversation with (the real) Weyoun:

WEYOUN: If you ask me, the key to holding the Federation is Earth. If there's going to be an organized resistance against us, its birthplace will be there. DUKAT: You could be right. WEYOUN: Then our first step is be to eradicate its population. It's the only way. DUKAT: You can't do that. WEYOUN: Why not? DUKAT: Because! A true victory is to make your enemy see they were wrong to oppose you in the first place. To force them to acknowledge your greatness. WEYOUN: Then you kill them? DUKAT: Only if it's necessary. WEYOUN: I had no idea. DUKAT: Perhaps the biggest disappointment in my life is that the Bajoran people still refuse to appreciate how lucky they were to have me as their liberator. I protected them in so many ways, cared for them as if they were my own children. But to this day, is there a single statue of me on Bajor? WEYOUN: I would guess not. DUKAT: And you'd be right. Take Captain Sisko, an otherwise intelligent, perceptive man. Even he refuses to grant me the respect I deserve.

Weyoun ends the scene laughing at Dukat. Because he was just advocating they exterminate all life on Earth, and yet he's amazed, truly stunned by how crackers Dukat is. The sheer depths of Dukat's psychological need for validation is as clinically fascinating to Weyoun as it is to the audience.

As it is to me, anyway. Like Narcissus and his pool, I peer into Dukat and see myself. Unsurprisingly, he's one of my favorite characters.

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #18 – Montress Volume 3: Haven by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda

I have been reading one volume of this comic a month, in part as a way to force myself to take it a bit slowly and appreciate the issues and volumes as distinct arcs and works in their own right instead of archive binging, and in part because a volume of comic books being more than ~20% of my reading goal for the year feels like cheating. This has accomplished both of those goals splendidly, but it is making it increasingly hard to come up with different ways of talking about the basic premise of the story. So I’m just not going to.

The plot picks up fairly directly where the last plot dropped off – with Maika having escaped the last maratime city-state she’d found refuge in (now wanted fugitive) and settling into the next one. To secure safety for herself and her little crew of misfits (eldritch god-monster her mom bore and raised her to be a host for, adorable fox-child she treats like shit, terrible cat who betrays everyone, improbably hot noble magic assassin whose technically supposed to be murdering her), she’s conscripted by the royal engineer to assist in repairing the ancient magical shield which protected the city during the last war – which, due to her heritage and the aforementioned eldritch god, she might be the only one capable of safely accessing. That (literally) blows up in everyone’s face just about immediately, and the remainder of the arc is spent scrambling to deal.

Dramatically the volume works very well as a self-contained narrative, though a decade of marvel movies have left me kind of incapable of taking a big climax involving an apocalyptic glowing hole in the sky that seriously. Beyond that though, this is definitely a Lore volume, digging deep into the history of the Shaman Empress, her relationship with Zinn, and what the other Montrum are or want. It also, if my memory is right, marks the point where Zinn finishes transitioning from this terrible quasi-unknowable parasite ruining Maika’s life and turning her into a walking atrocity to just, like, Some Guy. They’re a little shit with an improbably amount of flattering amnesia and also murder a bunch of people but like, they’re a character now. They banter with Maika constantly, and also keep fucking up and being wrong about things. Deeply endearing tbh.

This also marks the point where The Doctor and Maika’s paternal family more broadly starts being a lot more plot-relavent which, going to be honest, I’m kind of dreading. Can’t remember any real details but my memories of the whole upcoming arc basically boil down to ‘at least Maika got that badass clockwork prosthetic out of it’.

Kippa and Ren are basically irrelevant to the actual plot this time, which is totally fine because I love them both dearly and would have happily read an entire issue of them going shopping and having a nice day in the market. Kippa, besides being adorable, does actually get some pretty meaty scenes providing the view from the gutter here though – Maika gets scooped up by a scheming vizier engineer as soon as she walks into town, and also hates people, but Kippa is absolutely the sort of person to go wandering through a sprawling refugee camp doing whatever she can to help. Which is both good worldbuilding and characterization and provides some desperately needed grounding to keep the whole story from vanishing entirely into mythic freudian psychodrama.

Speaking of preferring the social and political storytelling – I’m not sure they ever actually matter, but I do love the two bit characters who occasionally get scenes of their desperate heroic spycraft and diplomacy as they try everything they can to prevent another war breaking out. Their little bit in this volume also does a great job illuminating what a broken mess the politics of the Federation is – given the incredibly vague 1930s-East-Asia analogy underlying the story’s geopolitics, I like that the genocidal power about to plunge the world into war is riven with internal contradictions and five minutes away from a coup with the army and navy barely able to stand in the same room without gunfights breaking out).

Anyway yeah, it’s still Monstress. Still good! I probably sound like a broken record saying it at this point, but the character design remains just sublime, even for very thoroughly secondary characters. Speaking of, my favourite one has now shown up!

[eating-plastic]

Getting back into self shipping

So in case the few reblogs here and there didn't give it away, yeah I'm back into self shipping after falling out of love with it for some time. Here's an intro to my f/os because I realized I never actually properly introduced them before (whoops!). There are also a few ground rules I have for self ship stuff on my blog afterward, so if you don't care about who I ship myself with, then just scroll past those. Okay? Cool! Let's get a move on then!

Roller Ricky:

Roller Ricky is a minor character from the game Killer Frequency. He is a laid back, fun-loving guy who runs a roller rink in the fictional small town of Gallows Creek. Though he's friendly and sweet, he is not afraid to scare someone off with his rifle if they threaten his life or the lives of those he loves. Also he has trauma! Due to an awful prank that resulted in the death of one of his peers, he developed severe survivor's guilt that spiraled into him developing an alcohol addiction to deal with the grief. Fortunately, he eventually got help and therapy for his alcoholism and trauma. He also has an emotional support dog named Max, who he adores.

Honestly what's there not to love about Ricky? He's like, the definition of the ideal man (at least to me he is 🤭). He's sweet, he's caring, loves his dog, he's willing to defend the lives of those he loves, he's pretty easy on the eyes (not just in his canon appearance, but I've seen many different looks people have come up with for him and all of them are so handsome. Then again, I did fall in love with his voice and personality first). The first ever full length x reader fic I wrote was with him, which was pure unbridled self indulgence. After writing 3 x reader things with him and finding out what self shipping was, I realized that he was my f/o; that I loved him more than any other character I had written for (with the exception of my other f/o).

Our ship name is Heart Shaped Roller Rink.

Maison Talo:

Maison Talo is the antagonist of the game House Hunted. Though what you predominately see of him looks human, he very much is not. Maison is a REALTOR, one of the many species of creatures that live in the Uncanny Valley. His true body is a for sale house that can eat and digest living things, whereas what you see that looks human is actually a lure (like an angler fish). Soooo yeah, he eats people, but he's not necessarily evil per se, more morally gray if anything; it's just how he and his species eat and you need to eat to live after all. He's not heartless either, as he is still very capable of developing emotional relationships with others and even falling in love.

So when compared to Ricky, why on God's green Earth is Maison my other f/o (besides the fact that his lure form is hot as FUCK)? Well, to be completely honest I'm a lil bit of a "poser" as a lot of the love I feel for him is from headcanons I have written for him and less actual canon (to say that I cherry pick canon when it comes to REALTOR anatomy and such, would be a gross understatement lol). So yeah, I'd probably be considered a fake fan, it's the big reason why I've played around with the idea of him being my f/o, but only now am making it official. Whatever 🤷‍♀️.

To me (and once again, these are headcanons) Maison is very romantic. Like classic gentleman romantic. He'd also highly value his partner because I think he hasn't genuinely loved someone in a long time or even at all, so when he realizes he does love someone, he's gonna cherish them greatly. Also be uber protective over them as the Uncanny Valley is like, super fuckin dangerous. He would definitely spoil the shit out of you too (bro's not beating the sugar daddy allegations lol). Plus, you're getting a boyfriend and a free house! I also fell for him the same way I fell for Ricky: I just wrote for him a lot and realized "Hey, I'm actually not normal about this character at all." While Ricky was my first x reader fic, Maison was my first x reader thing period.

I just feel like I have to justify why Maison is my other f/o because yeah he is a lil pretentious about being the "Number 1 REALTOR in the Uncanny Valley" and the fact that he eats people, but hey no one's perfect.

Our ship name is Home Sweet Home.

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

With that outta the way, here are some rules for self ship stuff on my blog:

1.) I am okay with sharing my f/os

2.) Shipping discourse is absolutely NOT allowed on this blog. The whole reason I fell out of love with self shipping was because of the proship vs antiship bullshit. I don't wanna see it, I don't wanna deal with it, which leads into...

3.) Anyone is allowed to interact with my blog and my self ship posts. I also take the time to look at self ship posts to make sure they don't have any form of a DNI on them or in the tags before reblogging them

I want this blog to be a space for positivity always, especially when it comes to self shipping because it is something that has brought me a ton of joy. Be kind, be respectful, and treat yourselves right ❤️

[that-basic-simp]

To My Love

JQ X Fem!Reader CW: Suggestive towards the end WC: 1.2k+ A/N: Hope y'all like fluff. And excuse my terrible song writing skills.

"How do people write this? It sounds so cheesy and cliche," I looked down at her mother, who was chuckling.

"That's how things were back then. People would swoon one another with love letters and romantic acts. Date nights with roses and chocolate at the end. And to sweeten the deal, a nice night alone together."

I let out a sigh, running my hand through my mohawk, "I-I just don't want to fuck it up."

"Odessa, how long have you and Y/N been together?"

"About five years now."

"And have ya fucked up?"

"Multiple times. More than I can count," I mumbled.

"And does Y/N still love you?"

"Yes."

"Look at your hand, Odessa."

Lifting my left hand up, there sat a silver band on my ring finger.

"You two came together because you had one common thing: your love for one another. Listen, Odessa, Y/N absolutely adores ya and you know that more than anyone. And you adore 'er. Whatever ya do for her to celebrate your love, she'll love it and she'll love you. No matter what."

I smiled, nodding my head, "Thank you, Mrs. L/N."

Walking out of her old house, the house I held a lot of memories whenever we were getting to know one another. I lingered for a bit, especially by her room. I stood at the door frame, peering in to find the lone mattress on the ground. A smile ran across my face, remembering the night of the sand storm where we held one another close. Where I knew I had feelings for her. Even if she was the first one to confess, I had fallen for her that moment right there. When we were making our weapons together. I knew she was the one.

"Everything alright, Odessa?" her mother asked.

"Everything is," I said and walked out of the house, thanking her once more.

Heading back to Junkertown, I entered through the gate and walked back towards a shed only I knew about. It was well hidden and I made sure no one followed me. Reaching it, I stepped inside and closed the door, locking it. It was small, but big enough to hold me and a few things that were necessary. Kneeling onto the ground, I pulled something out from underneath the desk. It was old and dusty, which I had to rub the dust off before grabbing it. Standing up, I placed it on the desk and ran my hand along it, letting out a sigh.

"Dad," I whispered to myself. "Please help me on this one. I-It's been a while since I was able to do this. But it is necessary to ask for your help, as you were the one to teach me."

Moving my hands to where the clasps were, I flicked them open and opened up the top of the case, revealing an old acoustic guitar. I've always played electric of bass guitars, but not acoustic. The last time I played it was the night before he and my siblings died. I had never touched it after all this time, but I felt the need to open it up. The pads of my fingers lightly ran over the strings, a dull sound coming from them. Closing my eyes, a single tear slid down my face as I closed the case, locking it tightly.

Grabbing the handle, I removed it from the desk and walked out of the shed, heading back towards the office building where I would spend most of my time making sure it was up to par from when I last played it. I had to restring and tune it, but actually having it in my hands made them tremble. The memories came back and hit me like a train, making me want to put it away. But, I had to. I had to do this. Not only for myself, but for Y/N.

Blinking my eyes open, I found the spot where Odessa slept to be empty. Slowly rising, I found a little note on my bedside table along with a vase of actual roses. I smiled, my heart beating fast as I reached over and opened the note.

"Y/N,

Sorry I wasn't able to be here when you woke up. Something came up. I should be finished by the time you're awake. Hope to see you soon.

With love, Odessa."

I got up, quickly got changed, grabbed what I needed and headed towards the throne room. Reaching the building, I opened up the door and stepped inside, hearing something coming from the throne room. Closing the door, I headed up the stairs and knocked on the door.

"Odessa?"

"Come in, Y/N."

I opened the door and found a sight to behold. There were flower petals on the ground, the throne room was actually clean for once, candles everywhere, the curtains pulled together, and she was sitting on the couch that was against the right hand wall. I smiled, closing the door and locking it. Making my way over, I sat down next to her.

"Did you do all of this by yourself?"

"I did," she smiled.

"Dez, ya know ya don't have to do anythin' for me."

"I want to give you everythin'," she whispered, reaching up to cup my jaw. "You deserve everythin'."

We both smiled and she leaned down, pressing a kiss to my lips.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you, too, Dez."

"And to show ya," she pulled away and reached behind her, grabbing an acoustic guitar by the neck of the instrument. Setting it on her lap, she let out a sigh, some tears forming in her eyes.

"Dez, ya alright?"

"I haven't played an acoustic since my father and siblings passed."

"I-I'm sorry to hear. B-But why are ya?"

"Because of this," she said, tuning it before strumming it quietly. "Just sit back and relax. And I apologize for my terrible singin' voice. I usually sing along to my metal songs."

"It's alright, Dez."

She cleared her throat and started to play the instrument, a soft and calming tune coming from it.

"To my love, with all my heart You've scared the demons away Chased every doubt from my head Held my heart in your hands tightly To where you fear dropping it

To my love, with all my soul You've shown me what love is In the harshest of places Especially a place like this But I know you You would have done it either way

To my love, with everything that is You are the one to make me feel Love in all the right and wrong places But it is a gift you bring to me As you are the gift itself

To my love, I love you."

Tears slid down my face as she finished the little song, her eyes finding mine. A smile formed on her lips as she put the guitar down, pulling me into her lap. I wrapped my arms and legs around her, crying in her shoulder as she ran her hand up and down my back.

"Shh, shh, there there, I got ya, love," she whispered in my ear.

"I love you, Odessa."

"I love you, too, Y/N. Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day."

Pulling away, I grabbed what I had made her for today. Handing it to her, she smiled widely.

"Ya made this for me?"

"Of course I did."

She leaned towards me and pressed a kiss to my lips.

"Thank you, love," she said after she pulled away. "But ya know what would make today even better?"

"What?" I asked, smirking, knowing exactly where she was going with this.

And we did just that.

[wundergeek]

What does thriving look like when the world (and our brains) are on fire?

My mental health went to completely to shit for the first year of the pandemic, especially after getting locked in my house with my gender made me admit that I was trans. The shit cherry on top: I spent most of 2020 unemployed.

My brain completely shut down for those first four months or so. I spent every available spoon on parenting my kid, and had none left to deal with any of my own shit - which started becoming an equity issue in my marriage the longer my husband had to do all of the cooking and other housework by himself. Which definitely wasn't fair to him!

So I got really intentional about my habits, and I reorganized my space around this question: what will help me feel grounded and positive in a way that will make small actions feel achievable?

What does that look like for me?

Visual reminders of love: love letters / art from friends / cards / photos

Easily one of the most important aspects of my workspace. I have basically zero emotional object permanence, so having objects that I see every day that are proof of that connection is vital to reminding myself that the voice telling me that I'm alone is wrong.

If, like me, you have ADHD - you'll want to move things around / replace things every few months, because our brains are hard-wired to seek novelty. I actually need to do this soon - and plan on reaching out to a few close friends and asking for small notes or pictures.

Quotes from your favorite media that give you hope / Dark Aspiration / Your favorite blorbo

Hopeful quotes! If you've ever thought of getting a tattoo of a phrase, but didn't do it because it came from something real nerdy - that's perfect.

I made myself this poster of quotes from Final Fantasy 14's Endwalker expansion - which itself was about how do we find meaning in existence while living through the end of the world? It hangs above my bulletin board, so that I see it every day.

Dark aspiration: this one is optional, but for those of you who are extremely motivated by spite, as I am... It helps to have a reminder in my field of view that "going for a stupid walk for my stupid mental health" is exactly what these fascist motherfuckers DON'T want.

Favorite blorbo: Is there a blorbo you are INCAPABLE OF BEING NORMAL ABOUT? Fucking harness that! Get that fucking dopamine however you need. (In my case, with catboy husband.)

Is it ridiculous? Who cares! We have ONE LIFE, so why not spend that life thinking about blorbos that make us happy?

Task board / decision matrix

The goal: not to let yourself crawl into bed and stay there for the next six months.

The challenge: being overwhelmed makes decisions about what we can accomplished feel impossible - which can lead to no action at all

Which is why we visually sort that shit.

My white board is broken down along Effort (low to high) and Impact (low to high), but you can define your axes differently. Urgency versus Importance is another one I've seen a lot of people use? The reason I use Effort / Impact is because it provides a visual approximation of the Spoons / Benefit Derived ratio for each outstanding tasks.

And! That upper left quadrant contains a lot of easy wins for when I need the feeling of removing something from the board to help me feel motivated to do something larger.

(The bottom right corner is dangerous. Try not to let too much stuff lurk there. If it starts getting full, try either to break those tasks up, or to find someone to support you in doing them.)

Gratitude and/or Glimmers

Look. I know. I get it. I really do.

But there's a reason why some of the most common advice for dealing with depression and anxiety is keeping a gratitude journal. There's actual, honest-to-god science showing it works. (Since gratitude doesn't always work for people, keeping track of glimmers can also be really helpful - small moments of happiness worth remembering.)

So think of it like "taking a stupid walk for your stupid mental health".

If you're someone who's motivated by colored pens, make a trip to the dollar store! Use those stickers you've been hoarding for no specific purpose! (These stickers here have been on my whiteboard for FOUR YEARS). If you're ADHD like me, keep it somewhere you can see it - which will act both as a reminder to add to it, AND as a reminder of the things you've already written there.

Also, make sure you give yourself permission to make it ugly.

It doesn't do you any good if it turns into something that stresses you out.

Visual cues to exercise

I keep these adjustable weights I got off of Amazon next to my desk. I might only manage to use them once a day when my mental health is really bad, but anything that forces you to engage your heart a little is great.

Sometimes you might find that banging out a set of lifts gives you the motivation for a small walk. Or even to just walk around and stretch.

Again: "taking a stupid walk for your stupid mental health" territory here. As someone who has wrestled with mental illness my entire life, I hate that hAvE yOu TrIeD eXcErCiZe is the first thing that gets hurled at us, because it's not a fucking panacea. But it really does make a difference.

Important end note: fuck The Aesthetic ✨

It might take a while to create a space that is both functional AND visually appealing, or you might decide you don't care about visual appeal, and that's fine. Function is king.

Not pictured: make art make art MAKE ART

More than anything, art is what helps us get through dark times. So MAKE. ART.

It doesn't have to be good. Shitty things are great! Knit a shitty sock! Draw a shitty picture! Write a shitty poem! Hell yeah!

"What if it's cringe?" then BE CRINGE. Write your cringe au fic! Draw some fanart of a cursed ship! Make your favorite blorbos kiss!

Just. Make. ART.

[rviner]

Interview for Variety, June 2024

You've been acting since a young age, how did you end up drawn to horror genres?

I think it's funny that I've gravitated to horror, because I didn't watch any horror movies when I was growing up. My parents were pretty stringent about age ratings and it always makes me laugh that I was in horror movies before I was even allowed to watch it. Not that I'd watch my own movie ever, that's crazy. But, one day when my dad took me on set, they said I could have this really small almost cameo role of a kid screaming. I was only eight years old, and something just clicked, I guess. I thought it was so much fun.

Growing up with both of your parents in the industry, did you always know you wanted to act, or did you consider other paths before settling on acting?

I think I always wanted to act, because it seemed like a creative outlet to me even when I was too young to have the words for that. Then I started acting and I went through the phase where I thought it might not be or last forever. I was just a kid so in a way, it didn't feel like a job or like it was a realistic job. I think if I hadn't ended up working on horror movies, I'd probably be doing something else. Maybe working with animals. Maybe a kids entertainer. But I didn't seriously consider other options, because I got very lucky that my first choice stuck.

You've been in some pretty intense horror films. How do you prepare for these scenes, especially when dealing with fear and tension on set?

I learned quickly that the body doesn't know what's real or fake, even though everything is choreographed right down to the last detail. My mind knows what's going on, but the adrenaline and everything is real. So mindfulness became my best friend. I throw myself into the scenes, in a way I don't prepare for them and I just talk myself down after them. Sort of like grounding techniques. It always helps when you're working with great people, too. If you can lean on one another for support before and after an intense scene, it makes the whole thing a lot easier.

How do you balance your professional life with personal time, especially when your roles require such emotional intensity?

I think no matter what anyone does, work has to be just work. Everyone has to leave what they do when they're not working or they'd go crazy. Maybe I'm lucky that it comes naturally to me. I can prioritize things that matter to me, and I always make a point to take time for myself. Making sure to not overcrowd my schedule and have days set aside to do nothing is important. I mean really do nothing too, like sweatpants and stare at the T.V nothing.

Your social media shows a much lighter, fun side of you. How important is it for you to show that contrast between your work and real life?

I don't think I'm consciously trying to show anyone anything, that's just me posting things. But I guess it'd be easy for people to think of me being a certain way if I didn't. Maybe subconsciously I am trying to show people that acting is acting and I don't sit in a dark room waiting for a scary role I can do. But I don't think it's important to me, I'm just using Instagram and stuff makes me laugh.

What’s the most valuable lesson you’ve learned from your colleagues on set?

I've worked with amazing people and I've always looked up to experienced actors and tried to emulate them without insulting them while trying. The best advice I received had to be about the physicality of horror, being really aware of my body and where all the emotions sit when shooting a scene. That helped me in my actual life too, not just on set. It made me realize that we are just physically experiencing the emotions we all feel, so being aware of them literally transforms how we even carry ourselves.

Given your success in horror, do you see yourself sticking with the genre, or are you interested in exploring other types of roles?

I think it'd be naive of me to say I was only doing one genre forever. Naturally, we all like change and new experiences. I'm probably too curious to just work in horror for the rest of my life. I think as long as the role or the story is something I can sink my teeth into, then I don't care about the genre. Even if I can't really imagine doing a romantic comedy, but who knows. But a movie like Juno or Little Miss Sunshine? I'd love that.

With the recent trends in horror films blending more with social commentary, how do you see the genre evolving, and what role do you hope to play in that evolution?

I love that horror is becoming a genre where it's more than just being scared for a thrill. Now, there's movies that can make you unsettled or uneasy and uncomfortable. The power of those emotions to convey a message or highlight a message is really amazing. I don't think of myself as important enough to influence that evolution, because actors are just a conduit for those messages after all. I just hope I'd be able to do a role justice, get people talking, lead to some positive discussions. That sort of thing.

You've grown up in the public eye, how do you handle the pressure and scrutiny that comes with that?

My parents were pretty good at keeping my sister and me away from all of that when we were growing up. I didn't really know that my mom and dad were famous for like...probably years. They were good at evolving the conversations based on our ages, too. So in a way I've always felt prepared to handle it, because they had really open conversations about it when I was at an age to fully understand. Having support from people around you is really important, I think all of us thrive better with that. No man is an island sort of thing.

Do you have any particular rituals or habits you follow when preparing for a role?

I like to watch movies and read books that I think my character would like, even if they're not related to the genre. I try and make them feel and seem more human to me, that's the first thing I do. I also try not to overthink them either, because then you're going to end up with like an exaggerated version of a person. So just lots of script reading and following an intuition with how they might say things, how they might be feeling. Kind of cringe but practicing in front of a mirror has a lot to answer for, it's a staple.

How do you maintain that connection with your audience while keeping some aspects of your life private?

I think all of us are private people to some degree. We all keep a piece of ourselves to one side even around people we're comfortable with. I can't remember the quote, which is embarrassing, but about three faces we have. With people, with people we know and with ourselves. I think everyone knows there's things we won't know about other people, too. Or at least I hope they do. But I guess there's not much anyone can dig around and find out about me that I'd be ashamed of them knowing. It might be embarrassing and feel a bit vulnerable if they did, there's definitely some unflattering selfies I hope never make it anywhere. But, sharing stuff I think is funny already feels quite personal.

What are your long-term goals in the industry? Do you see yourself eventually stepping behind the camera or exploring other aspects of filmmaking?

I'm happy to go wherever the flow of anything takes me. I haven't set myself clear goals, which might go against the advice that really successful people say. So, definitely listen to them instead of me. But I'm just here and enjoying what I'm doing. I could definitely see writing or cinematography scratching a creative itch, so to speak. But I'm also open to not being involved at all. There's still time for me to be a kids entertainer.