#therapist by teenage joan’s

[imactuallyagiraffe]

YOOOOOUUUURRRR JJJUUUUUUUSSSSTTTTTTT WWWWAAAAAASSSSSTTTTTIIIIIIIIIIINNNGGGG TIIIIIMMMMEEEE TRYNA FIIIIIIIIXXXXX MYYYYYY MIIIIINNNNNDDDDD YOU ARE NOT MYYYYY THEEERRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAPIST

[random-person10]

Heartbreak High

The new one, not the old one.

This show has always managed to confuse me and I don't know if it's an Australian thing or a writer's thing. I'm pretty sure it's the former coz it happens every time I watch anything Australian.

But this season was even more confusing than the first. Like in the first season, it was chaotic to me how everyone ended up fucking almost everyone, I could not guess who was going to get together at fucking all. All it took is for these fuckers to make 4-second eye-contact and BAM sex, get a grip. Ig teenagers are actually like that and I'm just a loser. Anywho, this season, the only thing that confused me was Rowan's whole character arc.

Let me break this down:

He said that when he came to Hartley High, he was just ready to move on from his brother's death, or maybe he wanted to move on in Dubbo, I dunno I kind of didn't pay attention. But like, he started killing birds and terrorizing Amerie with them on the first fucking day of being there, because she didn't remember him?

This motherfucker went into the forest, while Ant was busy threatening to cut his dick off, killed a bird, and put it on her bag? Sorry but how fast does this man act? What a machine.

Then he dated her ex-boyfriend? For what reason? Was it strategic? I still haven't figured that one out yet. Like sure it'll make Amerie jealous but he seemed genuinely into him so I don't think that's it. Actually, thinking about it now, Malakai is hot and Rowan was all "forget Amerie" or whatever so that bit does make sense tbh. I cried when they broke up go away, imagine the person you're dating calls u by their ex's name? ugh sad

Then after breaking up with Malakai and getting his heart savagely broken, he just starts dating Amerie? At first, I assumed that was because he planned to hurt her emotions, but he literally spoke about her to 'Jett' like he was into her, so that confused me. I thought he hated her?

Like bro seemed to not have a plan. I know he's not mentally stable and all that but like what was going on in his mind? He's trying to ruin her life, but also likes her, but also thinks she murdered his brother.

And why did he tell Malakai to fuck off when he started dating Amerie? Like was that genuine possessiveness or was that part of the plan? (My little brain was like "awe he wants to protect Malakai from whatever he has planned at that dance so he's telling him to go away, cutee he still likes him" but I'm delulu so ignore that)

AND TO TOP IT ALL OFF

His delusions just vanished with Amerie saying: "he died because he loved you" and a clip of Jett not being a part of Rowan's hallucination anymore... like excuse me, I need a clip of this man going to a therapist and actually acknowledging his schizophrenia, not whatever this form of fucking 'closure' is.

It was so half-arsed, it made me mad.

Man, I genuinely liked the guy, but it seemed like they created his plot 4 episodes into the season. Nothing linked.

Still was very obsessed with the show tho. The sarcasm and the sibling vibes were very entertaining. STILL THE PLOT MAKES VERY LITTLE SENSE. But, again I'm very bad at paying attention so I might've got it all wrong.

Side note: the principal's dog (Joan of Arc) with her little fuchsia-coloured vest were the highlight of this show for me, isn't that kinda sad? There is a scene where the principal is talking to Cash, and Joan is facing the opposite direction and I laughed at that for like 30 minutes, tragic.

[spicedfink]

Someone posted their opinion on tophabe and I'm not going to @ them since people are apparently being weird but it did make me want to voice my tophabe take because tbh it made me feel insecure and like I needed to explain myself because they were right and so real for what they said.

My thing with (s2) episode 8 is first off I can only process parts of it at a time because that episode made me uncomfortable Second is there is one major factors I take in when thinking about tophabe and a few minor factors: The biggest thing is Joan the canon end game love interest as far as we have been shown tried to point blank kill everybody which is objectively worse. As for minor factors I'll use bullet points: - Cleo also manipulates Abe not to that degree but for longer - All the cast are kind of bad people but the show only framed Topher's actions as bad which I found weird when I really thought about it then they said Harriet was a theater kid and I stopped caring about what the writing was meant to convey - Him giving good advice first in s2e8 reminds me of how I used to give a friend of mine bad advice as a joke when they kept ignoring my real advice and for some reason they took my joke advice seriously. - Topher wasn't in the classroom with Abe so he didn't know the teacher had been hitting on him so it feels like he's just making shit up on the spot - I don't see how Topher would have seen this working. Like it shows him being right there when it starts but like how? I know it's just because the plot said so but the actual "go sleep with this gross person" seems more like a "oh Abe would never actually do that" line of thought - like it reads more as "if I can get Abe insecure he won't ask Joan out" then "Abe will defiantly go for this" (still shitty but less) - It's a cartoon and their actions are exaggerated - s2e8 was such a horribly done episode all around that I can't do anything other than cherry pick it - poor mental health is hardly an excuse but man do I believe his therapist isn't doing him any favors (which is why I have his change therapist in my fanfics) - The fact they're still shitty high schoolers meaning they all have the most room for growth and I'm projecting my own journey of because and actual good person and figuring out my sexuality onto him (obviously wasn't his level of shitty but I said dumb shit and did weird emotionally charged things thanks to how I was raised and poor mental health) - Episode 1 of season 2 Topher got the t-rex arms so I attached myself to his character right then and there ("he's autistic just like me") - I like happy things. The show gave a character who they made clear was suppose to be disliked and bullied for being horrible and didn't show him do anything actually that bad until episode 8 out of 10. And before that ranges from normal weird teenager things he'd logically grow out of, trying too hard to be socially accepted and being mentally ill??? Like no. No I'm personally not going to think this character is a horrible person incapable of growth... And this is why my serious non one sided tophabe headcanons are all for when they are older because I really think Topher would, you know grow up and regret his past actions. Also since I see Topher as queer: internalized homophobia and the such are a bitch (speaking from experience)

I don't actually have a good reason for why Abe would like Topher back past I just think it'd be fun. If Abe gets with Joan and is friends with Cleo I think he should still be friends with Topher though

[bitchapalooza]

OKAY SO I OFFICIALLY FINISHED CH SEASON 3

Spoilers obviously

Okay good, Marry WAS written to be the way I thought she was(kinda but I was right).

I’m sad that Cloney Island was only one episode. Would’ve been nice to have a 2 part season finale, especially with the abrupt way Cleo and Frida were pushed back together— realistic for teenagers, especially a dramatized version of teenagers, but still would’ve been nice to see them fight a bit more, give sad longing glances over their shoulders after turning away, and then build that up to the climax of the episode where they make up in true sappy teen drama fashion that would be very in character for them both in the first place.

Aaaaaaaand Abe and Joan triangle once again but this time with Confucius! Wow! I am still not rooting for JoanAbe lmao, I think Joan and Confucius have way more chemistry than even Joanfk did. They seemed to have a lot of fun together.

Harriet and JFK… I still can’t see them working. I’m sorry. My new impression of Harriet is she’s one of those jealous types. A home wrecker and a cheater even. She just assumed she and Confucius were back together without asking, telling me that she’s definitely a bit of a control freak or definitely very impulsive(ocd possibly? Someone with more knowledge do an analysis, my basic level knowledge isn’t enough or factually sound). I honestly used to adore Harriet’s character, her annoying personality was passable enough to grow on me. But now it’s just insufferable. I mean I still love her character, but not really in the I adore her way, just that I wanna continue to see her fuck things up and see how much drama she can cause. And how her and JFK’s relationship will be ruined because I genuinely want it to be ruined because there’s really no substance behind it, just raging teenage hormones and the threat of imminent death.

I do genuinely feel bad for Scudworth but I for the love fuck cannot remember his ex-lover’s name. But I do hope Scud gets to see her again and they can actually be together in peace. They seemed nice together! I thought it was really cute, Scud was actually getting a win this time.

Uh Topher— or should we call him Christopher now?— being proud of his Clone lineage because some guests liked him was actually amazing in that I want a list of those people to avoid them which could be easy because they most likely were some of the January 6th capital rioters, that’s the only conclusion I can come up with that summarizes my entire assumption about those, uh, “fans”. But I guess it’s good he’s accepting who he’s been cloned from? Question mark? I’m scared of the micro aggressions to come. Someone contact his therapist that may or may not be Scudworth in a wig in the first place, I’m a little scared.

If season 4 is greenlit, if not already that is, I hope Gandhi gets to come back. There were several good call backs to him, especially how Scudworth inexplicably had several of his belongings in his possession? Sir what the fuck.

AND MY GOD THE F-BOMBS WHERE SO OVER DONE BUT ABSOLUTELY NOT IN A BAD WAY. They were perfectly balanced in my opinion and combined with the delivery of each Fuck combined with each Shit and every other curse mentioned, it was perfect. Compare it to either H/zben H/tel + h/lluva b/ss or Rick and Morty and you’ve actually got a script that although littered with curses, doesn’t rely on those curses to make the show funny. The fact each profanity wasn’t always expected coupled with the delivery is what made it good AND natural, not forced. Scudworth’s FUCK in season 2 walked so everyone’s FUCK AND SHIT in season 3 could run like fr.

I’m sad Cleo’s back with her terrible foster mom. I don’t like Frida’s foster dad. Having a sweater with your daughter’s face on it is….. strange. Confucius’ are kind of as I expected, but tbh I still say they’re fostering him for the publicity and check. Skunky Poo’s return was disturbing which seemed to be on purpose. I think I saw Van Gogh with two dads in the background and I’m only saying this because tbh I think he deserves two moms instead lmao, give this boy his two moms.

Abe this season felt like an in between of season 1 and 2 but mostly still s2. But I did love his interactions with JFK and Confucius. Especially JFK. And how fucking casual JFK essentially came out as bisexual lmao. All in all, these two were fucking hilarious this season. But yeah uh Abe is a toxic asshole by the way but we all knew that and honestly that’s why I love him and if Joanabe really IS endgame, I can cope with the fact that these two are highly likely to marry after graduation and divorce several years later, they’re terrible for each other.

I think this season was a lot better, which makes sense with what seemed like was a bigger budget. The animation actually looked a little different, not bad different but good different, much smoother??? I may have to go back and rewatch season 2, but right off the bat s3 animation really felt different, it felt more alive in a way and I really loved it. I hope we get a season 4 fr. And I hope it’s the final season, I cannot see it getting a s5 UNLESS it’s a parody/joke to how most shows these days keep stacking on the seasons without any heartfelt material in it (*cough* supernatural and the simpsons and bobs burger *cough* *cough*)

[sciroccoorion35]

writing patterns tag game

Rules: post the last sentence from your 10 most recently posted fics (less if you don't have 10 is also fine).

tagged by @menina89

Like a date…?

“She squeezed his hand reassuringly and they continued onwards, towards home.”

-this is not the last line since the fic isn’t finished. On the other hand I wrote this like each chapter is its own ficlet, so I think it counts!

2. Back of the bus

“Lucy felt something in her ease, and for the first time in months, she allowed herself to hope that things could turn out alright.”

even in AU land, that found family is life saving. 

3. Die trying

“For once, he really hoped he wouldn’t have to.”

…die to save Lucy.

4. Some like it hot

“Lockwood grinned and darted after him.”

Racing George to the shower, because they deserve to be teenage boys 😂 

5. Something Delicious 

“I would never get tired of this.”

my experiment in ambiguous pov

6. The Armour

“Until then, I have been yours, sincerely,

Lucy Joan Carlyle”

I love writing in book voice sometimes. It’s a fun challenge.

7. Between the Shores of Your Souls

“Lucy laughed and flagged down the bartender to order Kat a drink.”

When Kat and Lucy join forces, no one is safe. 

8. A Dark and Stormy Night

“Be my guest. George, pass me a doughnut?”

experiment with dialogue only. Starting to realize I’ve been experimenting a lot lately 😂 

9. Understandable

“Same time next week?”

“Yeah,” Lucy said, “same time.”

put both because otherwise it doesn’t make sense. Lucy finally finds a therapist who gets her. 

10. Fulfilling

“Lucy fell back asleep, snuggled between her boys, like sinking into a sea of warmth and light. They were exactly what she needed.”

I don’t often write cot3, but when I do, it’s hella soft.

Honorable mention: An Unbroken Chain

“For now, that was enough.”

throwing this in because I was really pleased with this fic. Love bittersweet Lockwood angst.

[irrolyphant]

📺 8 SHOWS TO GET TO KNOW ME

(thanks for tagging me, @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff 💐)

In alphabetical order:

1. The 10th Kingdom (2000)

Fantasy / Dramedy | 1 Season

Kimberley Williams-Paisley | John Larroquette | Scott Cohen | Dianne Wiest

Virginia Lewis and her father, Tony, get trapped in a fairytale dimension. They must travel across the 9 kingdoms, avoiding trolls, wicked witches, and the huntsman, to find the magic mirror that can take them home.

Favourite Episode: n/a (my DVD has it as one long film)

Favourite Character: Wolf

2. Being Erica (2009 - 2011)

Dramedy / Time Travel | 4 Seasons

Erin Karpluk | Michael Riley | Reagan Pasternak

After a near-death experience, Erica Strange meets the mysterious Dr. Tom, a therapist with the ability to send his patients back to relive and ‘correct’ their deepest regrets.

Favourite Episode: 3x12 Erica, Interrupted

Favourite Character: Dr. Tom

3. Justified (2010 - 2015) (2023)

Neo-Western / Crime / Drama | 6 Seasons + City Primeval

Timothy Olyphant | Walton Goggins | Joelle Carter

Enforcing his own brand of justice, Deputy US Marshal Raylan Givens is reassigned from Miami to his childhood home in the rural coal mining towns of eastern Kentucky.

Favourite Episode: 2x01 The Moonshine War

Favourite Character: Raylan Givens

4. Merlin (2008 - 2012)

Fantasy / Drama | 5 Seasons

Colin Morgan | Bradley James | Katie McGrath | Richard Wilson

A young warlock named Merlin has come to Camelot, where those who study magic are killed under the King’s command, to fulfil his destiny of protecting the future King, Arthur Pendragon.

Favourite Episode: 3x03 Goblin’s Gold

Favourite Character: Gaius

5. One Foot in the Grave (1990 - 2000)

Comedy / Sitcom | 6 Seasons

Richard Wilson | Annette Crosbie | Doreen Mantle

When Victor Meldrew is forced into early retirement, he has a lot more time on his hands to observe the world around him, and he finds it insufferable.

Favourite Episode: 4x05 The Trial

Favourite Character: Victor Meldrew

6. Sabrina the Teenage Witch (1996 - 2003)

Fantasy / Teen Sitcom | 7 Seasons + 2 Films

Melissa Joan Hart | Caroline Rhea | Beth Broderick

When Sabrina Spellman turns 16, she discovers that she is a witch, and she must now learn how to control her powers.

Favourite Episode: 2x18 The Band Episode

Favourite Character: Salem Saberhagen

7. Santa Clarita Diet (2017 - 2019)

Comedy / ZomCom | (criminally only) 3 Seasons

Timothy Olyphant | Drew Barrymore | Liv Hewson | Skyler Gisondo

Real-a-tor couple Joel & Sheila Hammond lived a perfectly normal quiet life in Santa Clarita with their teenage daughter Abby. Until one day Sheila suddenly died and came back to life. Now, her new diet is putting a tremendous strain on the family.

Favourite Episode: 1x07 Strange or Just Inconsiderate?

Favourite Character: Joel Hammond

8. Stranger Things (2016 - 2024)

Horror / Supernatural / Drama | 5 Seasons (4 Released)

Winona Ryder | Millie Bobby Brown | et al.

The vanishing of schoolboy Will Byers leads his group of friends to uncover a terrifying secret about their hometown.

Favourite Episode: 4x04 Chapter Four: Dear Billy

Favourite Character: Steve Harrington

This was fun! I know everyone else was just doing a list, but I’m nothing if not over-the-top 🙈

Tagging: literally anyone who reads this & wants to do it 🫶🏻

[justafeweggnoodles]

thank you for the tag!

Last song I listened to: Therapist by Teenage Joans (would def recommend checking them out)

Favorite color: Orange, but I’m also a fan of forest-y greens

Last movie/TV show I watched: Home alone because I was forced to and didn’t enjoy it that much. I don’t watch much TV but I think the last show I watched was Alone Australia, all of the Alone series are good but any of them not set in America (or with Americans) is almost always x10 more interesting

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: 100% sweet! I have a major sweet tooth. I do like salty things but if I had to choose it would be sweet all the way.

Relationship status: I have a girlfriend, she is amazing.

Last thing I Googled: “Australian Magpies” I think

Current obsession: Empires Smp 1 & 2, the life series, mcyt content in general, embroidery and art thrown in there for good measure

oh one problem, I have no idea who to tag (I don’t interact tend to interact that much with ppl, help) So ummmmmmmmmm

Nine People You'd Like To Get To Know Better

I was tagged by @mxchief-kitty, thank you so much for the tag! Absolutely have been enjoying getting to know you via the traditional tumblr way of constantly reblogging things from each other without ever actually speaking XD

Last song I listened to: Calling All the Monsters

Favorite color: Yellow!

Last movie/TV show I watched: My brother and I have been rewatching random sections of Mythbusters this past week or so and it's been so much fun.

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: This wildly depends on my mood, the time of day, and what else I've had to eat lately. But all of them at different times.

Relationship status: *gestures helplessly in Its Complicated and Also Super Queer*

Last thing I Googled: "brownie cupcakes temperature how long?"

Current obsession: There is never only one. Currently mostly in Empires s1, the Life Series, diving headfirst back into Naruto for the first time in a bit, and DC Comics and Lord of the Rings are always hovering on the edges ready to pounce.

And I shall tag...

@asterthecalico @beau-reblogs-assorted-stuff @justafeweggnoodles @apollothetransboy @the-amber-shadow @mxmallory @shutitk @apassingecho @idontevenknowhowtolife @tripleanuisance

[ngkiscool]

Back to routine - this week’s spotlight is about the Archangel Michael. 

All the fics are rated G or T, the last ones have detailed CW, please read the tags.

Never-ending chain by waxing_crescent - G, 692 words, focusing on Michael and Crowley. Summary: Michael offers Crowley a choice.

The Glass Ceiling by Uniasus - G, 2.8K words, focusing on Michael Beelzebub, and Crowley. Summary: Beelzebub is fascinated by the tower humans are building, but then becomes equally fascinated by the archangel who also comes to watch the humans.

Begin Again by echospool -  G, 783 words, focusing on Michael, Gabriel, Beelzebub and Aziraphale.  Summary: Gabriel is at a loss for what to do with himself now that the Apocalypse is in the rear view. Michael and Beelzebub might have the answer.

Devotion and Desire by BeezandBitches - G, 1.3K words, focusing on Michael and Anathema. Summary: Michael has great news to share with his darling, Anathema.

To err is Human by PersephoneChthonia - T, 260K words, focusing on Michael, Gabriel, Crowley and Aziraphale. Summary: The Falls, the failed Apocalypse, nearly the entire Host turning against their superiors afterwards... Things couldn't get much worse, surely? But for the Archangel Michael—eldest of the angels and commander of the army—things were never simple.

Two Angels and Two Demons Walk into a Family Therapy Session by StarlightPhoenix - T. 2.3K words, focusing on Michael, Gabriel, Crowley and Lucifer.   Summary: Dr. Martin's next appointment was a family therapy session. The family consisted of four siblings. Lucifer, Michael, Gabriel, and Anthony J. Crowley. Anthony, she later learned, preferred to be called Crowley, and the other three siblings did not share that last name. The four siblings did not get along. At all. And they wanted to, Crowley explained, but they just couldn’t see eye to eye. Or, the perspective of a therapist as Michael, Gabriel, Lucifer, and Crowley go to family therapy.

The Great Declaration by HopeCoppice - T. 1.2K words, focusing on Michael, Lucifer, Aziraphale and Crowley. Summary: Lucifer's wings are already burning as Michael raises her sword. Cut off from God's orders, Lucifer can only watch as the Host prepare to obey and the Great Plan is set in motion.(Inspired by The Plagues from The Prince of Egypt) 

Falling Apart by Varjo - T, 2.8K words, focusing on Michael, Gabriel, Beelzebub, Uriel and Raphael. cw - Implied/Referenced Character Death Summary: Archangel Gabriel watches the proceedings of the Revolution from his ivory tower.

Truce by nephiliminality - G, 1.4K words, focusing on Michael, Hastur and Ligur. cw - canon-typical vague menace/implied future violence. Summary: After the failed execution, Hastur walked Michael and Crowley back to the lifts. The trio proceeded down the corridor in near-silence, with Crowley in the lead and his captors following behind, forming a triangle of mutual distrust and repulsion. Michael was once again carrying the jug of Holy Water that had been lent to Hell for the occasion, and Hastur was keeping a wary eye on both it and the prisoner.

Noble Maiden Fair by SapphicScavenger - G, 1.7K words, focusing on Michael and Joan of Arc. cw - Major Character Death. Summary:J eanne is a teenage peasant girl from the French countryside. She wants to stay at home and be a normal girl. But when Heaven calls her to fight, she must aside her own desires for God Herself. Michael is the General of Heaven. They want nothing to do with humans or the Earth. But when they find themself sent to earth to guide a teenage girl from France, they find it hard to not become attached to the young woman despite all odds.

Thanks for reading and sharing, and have a great week :)

[hownot2doit]

… references (or: “a few books I read”) …

Andersen, Arnold, MD, with Leigh Cohn “Stories I tell my patients: 101 myths, metaphors, fables and tall tales for eating disorders recovery” Anderson, Laurie Halse “Wintergirls” Antieau, Kim “Mercy, unbound” Apostolides, Marianne “Inner hunger: a young woman’s struggle through anorexia and bulimia“ Ballard, Alexandra “What I lost” Beard, Amanda “In the water they can’t see you cry: a memoir” Brown, Harriet “Brave girl eating: a family’s struggle with anorexia” Bruch, Hilde “Eating disorders: obesity, anorexia nervosa, and the person within” Bruch, Hilde “The golden cage: the enigma of anorexia nervosa” Brumberg, Joan Jacobs “Fasting girls: the history of anorexia nervosa” Chepaitis, Barbara “Feeding Christine” Claude-Pierre, Peggy “The secret language of eating disorders: how you can understand and work to cure anorexia and bulimia“ Cohn, Leigh “Eating disorders: a reference sourcebook” Daniels, Lucy “With a woman’s voice: a writer’s struggle for emotional freedom” de Rossi, Portia “Unbearable lightness: a story of loss and gain” Eliot, Eve “Insatiable: the compelling story of four teens, food and its power” Forrest, Emma “Your voice in my head” Garfinkel, Paul, and David Garner “Handbook of treatment for eating disorders” Gold, Tracey “Room to grow: an appetite for life” Gottlieb, Lori “Stick figure” Greenfield, Lauren “Thin” Gura, Trisha “Lying in weight: the hidden epidemic of eating disorders in adult women” Hanauer, Cathi “My sister’s bones” Hautzig, Deborah “Second star to the right” Henke, Roxanne “Becoming Olivia” Hollis, Judi “Fat is a family affair” Hornbacher, Marya “Wasted, updated edition: a memoir of anorexia and bulimia” Johns, Nicole J. “Purge: rehab diaries” Kaslik, Ibi “Skinny” Kinoy, Barbara P. “Eating disorders: new directions in treatment and recovery” Kirkland, Kelsey “Dancing on my grave” Klein, Stephanie “Moose: a memoir of fat camp” Lerner, Betsy “Food and loathing: a lament” Levenkron, Steven “Anatomy of anorexia“ Levenkron, Steven “The best little girl in the world” Levenkron, Steven “Kessa” Levenkron, Steven “Treating and overcoming anorexia nervosa“ Liu, Aimee “Solitaire: the compelling story of a young woman growing up in America and her triumph over anorexia” Liu, Aimee “Gaining: the truth about life after eating disorders” Lott, Deborah A. “In session: the bond between women and their therapists” McClure, Cynthia Rowland “The monster within: overcoming bulimia” Medoff, Jillian “Hunger point” Miller, Caroline Adams “My name is Caroline” Moisin, Laura “Kid rex: the inspiring true account of a life salvaged from despair, anorexia and dark days in New York City” O’Neill, Cherry Boone “Starving for attention: a young woman’s struggle with and triumph over anorexia nervosa” O’Neill, Cherry Boone “Dear Cherry: questions and answers on eating disorders” Orbach, Susie “Fat is a feminist issue” Osgood, Kelsey “How to disappear completely: on modern anorexia” Palmer, Catherine “The happy room” Pershall, Stacy “Loud in the house of myself: memoir of a strange girl” Pierce, Bethany “Feeling for bones” Price, Nora “Zoe letting go” Rabinor, Judith Ruskay “A starving madness: tales of hunger, hope, and healing in psychotherapy” Raviv, Shani “Being Ana” Reindl, Sheila M. “Sensing the self: women’s recovery from bulimia” Rio, Linda “The anorexia diaries: a mother and daughter’s triumph over teenage eating disorders” Ronen, Tammie “In and out of anorexia: the story of the client, the therapist and the process of recovery” Ryan, Joan “Little girls in pretty boxes: the making and breaking of elite gymnasts and figure skaters” Sacker, Ira M. “Regaining your self: breaking free from the eating disorder identity: a bold new approach” Sacker, Ira M. “Dying to be thin: understanding and defeating anorexia nervosa and bulimia — a practical, lifesaving guide” Sargent, Judy Tam “The long road back: a survivor’s guide to anorexia” Schmidt, Randy L. “Little girl blue: the life of Karen Carpenter” Sey, Jennifer “Chalked up: inside elite gymnastics’ merciless coaching, overzealous parents, eating disorders, and

elusive olympic dreams” Sigler, Jamie-Lynn “Wise girl: what I’ve learned about life, love, and loss” Smith, Chelsea “Diary of an eating disorder: a mother and daughter share their healing journey” Snyder, Anne “Goodbye, paper doll” Spechler, Diana “Skinny” Taylor, Kate M. “Going hungry: writers on desire, self-denial, and overcoming anorexia” Valette, Brett “A parent’s guide to eating disorders: prevention and treatment of anorexia nervosa and bulimia” Wheeler, Kathleen (Editor) “Psychotherapy for the Advanced Practice Psychiatric Nurse” White, Kate “So pretty it hurts” Woolf, Emma “An apple a day: a memoir of love and recovery from anorexia” Yalom, Irvin D. “The Gift of Therapy: An Open Letter to a New Generation of Therapists and Their Patients” Yalom, Irvin D. “Love’s Executioner” Zgheib, Yara “The girls at 17 Swann Street”

[rockislandadultreads]

Popular Psychology titles available now on the Axis 360 app!

Talking to Strangers: What We Should Know About the People We Don’t Know by Malcolm Gladwell

4.04/5

Malcolm Gladwell, host of the podcast Revisionist History and author of the #1 New York Times bestseller Outliers, offers a powerful examination of our interactions with strangers -- and why they often go wrong. How did Fidel Castro fool the CIA for a generation? Why did Neville Chamberlain think he could trust Adolf Hitler? Why are campus sexual assaults on the rise? Do television sitcoms teach us something about the way we relate to each other that isn't true? While tackling these questions, Malcolm Gladwell was not solely writing a book for the page. He was also producing for the ear. In the audiobook version of Talking to Strangers, you'll hear the voices of people he interviewed--scientists, criminologists, military psychologists. Court transcripts are brought to life with re-enactments. You actually hear the contentious arrest of Sandra Bland by the side of the road in Texas. As Gladwell revisits the deceptions of Bernie Madoff, the trial of Amanda Knox, and the suicide of Sylvia Plath, you hear directly from many of the players in these real-life tragedies. There's even a theme song - Janelle Monae's "Hell You Talmbout." Something is very wrong, Gladwell argues, with the tools and strategies we use to make sense of people we don't know. And because we don't know how to talk to strangers, we are inviting conflict and misunderstanding in ways that have a profound effect on our lives and our world.

Maybe You Should Talk to Someone: A Therapist, Her Therapist, and Our Lives Revealed by Lori Gottlieb

4.38/5

One day, Lori Gottlieb is a therapist who helps patients in her Los Angeles practice. The next, a crisis causes her world to come crashing down. Enter Wendell, the quirky but seasoned therapist in whose office she suddenly lands. With his balding head, cardigan, and khakis, he seems to have come straight from Therapist Central Casting. Yet he will turn out to be anything but. As Gottlieb explores the inner chambers of her patients' lives -- a self-absorbed Hollywood producer, a young newlywed diagnosed with a terminal illness, a senior citizen threatening to end her life on her birthday if nothing gets better, and a twenty-something who can't stop hooking up with the wrong guys -- she finds that the questions they are struggling with are the very ones she is now bringing to Wendell.

My Age of Anxiety: Fear, Hope, Dread, and the Search for Peace of Mind by Scott Stossel

3.84/5

A riveting, revelatory, and moving account of the author’s struggles with anxiety, and of the history of efforts by scientists, philosophers, and writers to understand the condition

As recently as thirty-five years ago, anxiety did not exist as a diagnostic category. Today, it is the most common form of officially classified mental illness. Scott Stossel gracefully guides us across the terrain of an affliction that is pervasive yet too often misunderstood.

Drawing on his own long-standing battle with anxiety, Stossel presents an astonishing history, at once intimate and authoritative, of the efforts to understand the condition from medical, cultural, philosophical, and experiential perspectives. He ranges from the earliest medical reports of Galen and Hippocrates, through later observations by Robert Burton and Søren Kierkegaard, to the investigations by great nineteenth-century scientists, such as Charles Darwin, William James, and Sigmund Freud, as they began to explore its sources and causes, to the latest research by neuroscientists and geneticists. Stossel reports on famous individuals who struggled with anxiety, as well as on the afflicted generations of his own family. His portrait of anxiety reveals not only the emotion’s myriad manifestations and the anguish anxiety produces but also the countless psychotherapies, medications, and other (often outlandish) treatments that have been developed to counteract it. Stossel vividly depicts anxiety’s human toll—its crippling impact, its devastating power to paralyze—while at the same time exploring how those who suffer from it find ways to manage and control it. My Age of Anxiety is learned and empathetic, humorous and inspirational, offering the reader great insight into the biological, cultural, and environmental factors that contribute to the affliction.

The Recovering: Intoxication and Its Aftermath by Leslie Jamison

3.99/5

By the New York Times bestselling author of The Empathy Exams, an exploration of addiction, and the stories we tell about it, that reinvents the traditional recovery memoir.

With its deeply personal and seamless blend of memoir, cultural history, literary criticism, and journalistic reportage, The Recovering turns our understanding of the traditional addiction narrative on its head, demonstrating that the story of recovery can be every bit as electrifying as the train wreck itself. Leslie Jamison deftly excavates the stories we tell about addiction--both her own and others'--and examines what we want these stories to do, and what happens when they fail us.

All the while, she offers a fascinating look at the larger history of the recovery movement, and at the literary and artistic geniuses whose lives and works were shaped by alcoholism and substance dependence, including John Berryman, Jean Rhys, Raymond Carver, Billie Holiday, David Foster Wallace, and Denis Johnson, as well as brilliant figures lost to obscurity but newly illuminated here.

For the power of her striking language and the sharpness of her piercing observations, Jamison has been compared to such iconic writers as Joan Didion and Susan Sontag. Yet her utterly singular voice also offers something new. With enormous empathy and wisdom, Jamison has given us nothing less than the story of addiction and recovery in America writ large, a definitive and revelatory account that will resonate for years to come.

Look Me in the Eye: My Life with Asperger's by John Elder Robison

3.92/5

Ever since he was small, John Robison had longed to connect with other people, but by the time he was a teenager, his odd habits—an inclination to blurt out non sequiturs, avoid eye contact, dismantle radios, and dig five-foot holes (and stick his younger brother in them)—had earned him the label “social deviant.” No guidance came from his mother, who conversed with light fixtures, or his father, who spent evenings pickling himself in sherry. It was no wonder he gravitated to machines, which could, at least, be counted on.

After fleeing his parents and dropping out of high school, his savant-like ability to visualize electronic circuits landed him a gig with KISS, for whom he created their legendary fire-breathing guitars. Later, he drifted into a “real” job, as an engineer for a major toy company. But the higher Robison rose in the company, the more he had to pretend to be “normal” and do what he simply couldn’t: communicate. It wasn’t worth the paycheck.

It was not until he was forty that an insightful therapist told him he had the form of autism called Asperger’s syndrome. That understanding transformed the way Robison saw himself—and the world.

Look Me in the Eye is the moving, darkly funny story of growing up with Asperger’s at a time when the diagnosis simply didn’t exist. A born storyteller, Robison takes you inside the head of a boy whom teachers and other adults regarded as “defective,” who could not avail himself of KISS’s endless supply of groupies, and who still has a peculiar aversion to using people’s given names (he calls his wife “Unit Two”). He also provides a fascinating reverse angle on the younger brother he left at the mercy of their nutty parents—the boy who would later change his name to Augusten Burroughs and write the bestselling memoir Running with Scissors.

Ultimately, this is the story of Robison’s journey from his world into ours, and his new life as a husband, father, and successful small business owner—repairing his beloved high-end automobiles. It’s a strange, sly, indelible account—sometimes alien, yet always deeply human.

Is It All in Your Head?: True Stories of Imaginary Illness by Suzanne O'Sullivan

4.05/5 stars

A neurologist's insightful and compassionate look into the misunderstood world of psychosomatic disorders, told through individual case histories

[greenninjagal-blog]

I’d love to read whatever you have in a pj au!

WELL, anon, ask and ye shall receive! One unfinished one shot coming right up!

Words: 2548

It was supposed to be DLAMP but like… its a single chapter so the only thing that happens is Virgil’s celebrity crush on Thomas sksksks.

Quick Taglist: @chelsvans @faithfulcat111 @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @treasureofpriam

Everything was great until Virgil started dreaming of the boy in the purple shirt spontaneously exploding in flames.

Well maybe “great” was too strong of a word. Virgil wasn’t sure anything had ever been “great” in his life. Not that he would admit that to anyone, because every demigod he so much as glanced at would have been offended by the very thought: Didn’t Virgil see how great life here was? How great it was to share a cabin with ten other kids who didn’t know the first thing about personal space, how great it was that he was dragged rudely from his dreams every day for yet another class on the ancient greek heroes that he had been going to since he was five, how great it was that he had mandatory sessions in the arena so he could get his butt handed to him in combat he never had any intention of doing for real, how absolutely, astoundingly great it was that if he stepped even a foot outside the perimeter there was a chance that something big, fast, monstrous, and specifically attuned to a scent that Virgil couldn’t wash off himself, was going to eat him.

But for a minute there, Virgil might have been able to convince himself that his life was “great”; Thomas Sanders, son of Poseidon, had stormed up to Olympus itself and then walked back out with an oath from the gods themselves that they would start claiming their kids earlier. Thomas Sanders, natural born leader, had convinced Chiron to support the addition to the cabins for the minor gods which meant that Virgil no longer had to squeeze his entire life into the two foot corner space of the Hermes cabin. Thomas Sanders, the most attractive demigod alive (objectively), had single handed fixed all the problems that had plagued the camp for much longer than even Virgil had been there for. 

So with a new cabin that smelled like fresh laundered sheets, the dripping of the River Lethe from the branched of the tree in the corner, and nearly too many mattresses and pillows crammed into the room, Virgil thought maybe he could get used to the changes. After all, he could stretch his legs out now, breathe easy, and sleep for as long as he wanted, considering there wasn’t going to be a Hermes kid stealing his things for fun, a Hecate kid lighting him on fire with a misplaced spell, or a Nike kid instigating a fist fight to prove how victorious they were.

And yeah, it had been a little frustrating getting to this point: godly wars weren’t exactly prime teenage experience. Virgil was pretty sure over half the camp needed a good therapist, but where were they going to find one of those? Demigods didn’t live to reach twenty five, much less gain a psychology degree after being kicked out of every school they’ve ever been to for monster attacks and open a practice for an exclusive clientele who really didn’t have the drachma to pay them. 

The gods sometimes had a bit of sympathy for them, but it was never going to be enough. Virgil knew it, but he accepted it. Some things just weren’t going to be fair in this life. One of those things was that his dad was a god who didn’t understand first world mortal problems.

But things had finally– finally– settled down. 

Thomas had made everyone lives better.

Virgil remembered the first day he had seen Thomas: he had been sitting on the Big house porch watching the rainfall in the thunderstorm forcing himself to stay awake because he was waiting for Talyn (a child of Demeter who had been assigned to help him to the medical ward after they had pretty brutally beat him in their sparring class) to finish chatting with Chiron. He remembered how the lighting had struck off in the distance illuminating and he had seen something, someone running along the hill. He remembered suddenly being wide awake and yelling for Talyn, Chiron, anyone, and they came flying at his calls.

He remembered seeing the shaky, weary, battered boy, collapse just feet from Talyn, with an unconscious satyr on his shoulder.

Compared to that Thomas, who had been scared and panicked and unsure, the new Thomas was completely improved. He knew pretty much every demigod in camp, chatted with the naiads in the canoe lake and brought donuts to the pegasi. With Talyn and Joan (his satyr best friend) he had grown to fit the prophecy that he had been destined with. Powerful and loyal.

Bonus points were that unlike everyone else, Thomas saw Virgil. He had never shied away from his dark, gloomy personality, his dismissive tone, his bored gaze. Thomas went out of his way to ask Virgil how he was doing, talk about the dreams that he might have had, offer him canoeing lesson (which Virgil always declined because water and him didn’t really….click).

When he was around everything was as close to great as Virgil had ever thought they were going to get.

Then he had the dream.

Dreams in themselves were nothing new: Virgil was a son of Hypnos, god of Sleep. He spent more time sleeping than he spent being awake. Even as a small kid he had known he was different, his dreams more powerful and he had the ability to change them into different things. It had taken years to hone the skill, and even then he still accidentally gave himself vivid nightmares. (Wild emotions and unresolved arguments caused him to forget the difference between reality and the astral plane he had a back door to.)

But of all his siblings he had the most control by practice. The only person who could upstadge him was Remy his half sibling with a natural talent for manipulating other people’s dreams. Mostly he used to watch the drama of the other kids in the camp, to weasel subconscious information from them and then feed it to the the appropriate cliques: Remy was responsible for the Aphrodite Cabin’s sudden success of setting up kids together, the streak of foiled pranks from the Hermes cabin, and petition signed by half the camp to put a starbucks in.

Remy could manipulate the astral plane easily but he could only affect those he slept near. He struggled to dance between the strings of dreams the way Virgil did. Virgil could find out what kids in Virginia were dreaming about but he couldn’t do much but watch them or turn his own dreams into nightmare realms.

They balanced each other out. Virgil was okay with that.

And Remy, despite having come to camp two years after him, had wanted to be cabin leader far more than Virgil. They had shook hands on it and called it a day.

When Virgil fell asleep he had every intention of just minding his own business. He rarely enjoyed dream walking–actually he had never once intended to go walking through anyone else’s dreams. Other people dreamed weird, strange things: sometimes nightmares, sometimes nonsense, sometimes in depth private things that Virgil wanted no part in.

His dream had started out normal: Virgil was lying in an empty meadow, staring up at made up constellations, and a soft, pleasant breeze echoing through the air. Virgil knew he was dreaming instantly because he had never been to a place like this ever before in his life and also because he was warm and cozy in his purple sweatshirt– one that had been ripped to shreds a decade ago on his lovely adventure to get to the safe haven that was Camp Half Blood.

Virgil had breathed in deep, always impressed with the details of the astral plane no matter how many times he had seen it. He felt like he was really there, the ground was hard under his body, he could feel the individual fibers of his jacket, taste the slightly earthy flavor of the atmosphere and the smell of rain that suggested a storm was coming soon.

The stars had danced in little patterns that Virgil had always found calming. This was his safe spot, his secret home, his escape from the prison that was camp without actually endangering his life at all. It was how he stayed sane.

He couldn’t quite put his hand on what was so weird about it that night, what had tipped him that something was off. But he had frowned and sat up looking around for the source of the unease that had come over him. 

The ground had quaked, rumbled, and then without a single warning crumpled underneath him. Virgil screamed, his stomach flung into his throat, his arms flailed for something, anything to stop his fall into the unknown black abyss. He grabbed the walls of the hole he was fall in but turned to sand in his hands. Thunder clashed over head, clouds swirling in circular hurricane-esque shapes. Invisible energy built up around his form, ripping and tearing at his body, pressing against his temples, pulsing angrily until Virgil could barely breathe.

He was falling.

And it wasn’t right, Virgil knew it wasn’t right. This was his homespace, his best protected sanctuary. Not even Remy could get in here without Virgil letting him in. But something, someone had gotten in and they were changing things without Virgil’s permission, and they were changing them more forcibly than Virgil could stop them. 

The blackness shuddered, echoing with noises Virgil didn’t recognize at first. Latin and Greek and English phrases from disembodied voices. 

“Thomas!” 

“Thomas?”

“Thomas, where are you?!”

Everything was so dark, Virgil hadn’t been able to see his hands, much less been able to brace himself for the floor that suddenly was under him akin to a bullet train running him over. The air was violently slammed out of him, and his ribs made a crack that he was sure they weren’t supposed to do. 

“HELP!” Thomas– that was definitely Thomas’s voice– screamed, “Someone! Please!”

Virgil tried to get up but his entire body screamed in protest, something warm and sticky coated the floor but Virgil couldn’t see was it was. He could hear Thomas nearby, hear the other boys stumbling footsteps. He tried to say something, anything, that would let him know that he wasn’t alone, but he couldn’t even inhale.

“Someone help me!” Thomas yelled, “Please, I don’t want to die.”

Without warning, flames exploded in the air around Virgil, searing hot and blinding. Virgil flinched away, smoke wrapping his head and strangling what little air he had. Blearily he managed to look up through the flames to see a figure standing over him, coated in the flames– no the making the flames. They rolled off him like waves of unbearable heat.

“Thom…as…” Virgil gasped, but he was wrong.

Virgil remembered him clearly: passive indifference as if he had never felt an emotion ever before in his life, a stiff lip and dull blue eyes, framed by black glasses and his hair neatly combed to the side. Flames licked his toned arms and Virgil caught a glimpse of something tattooed on his shoulder before the fire swallowed it up.

Whoever he was, he stood over Virgil, wearing a seared purple shirt. “Who is Thomas?”

Then smoke flared between the two of them breaking them apart like a curtain. Virgil squeezed his eyes shut trying to brace himself for an attack—

It never came. 

Silence.

Virgil dared peak up, and found himself sitting in his empty meadow, the stars dancing over head without a cloud in the sky. There was no sign of the upturned earth or the darkness, Thomas, or the boy in the flames.

Virgil ripped at the collar of his sweatshirt, forcing a breath out of his teeth. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew that Thomas was in danger, Thomas had been yelling for help, Thomas needed help–

Virgil threw himself up and stumbled on his feet before he forced a doorway open and plunged himself into the astral plane barreling through dreams like there were Hellhounds on his tail. 

“Thomas!” Virgil yelled stumbling into the dream area he knew belonged to the son of Poseidon. His heart was beating so loudly he was sure it was going to explode. What if he was too late? What if Thomas hurt, or dying, or dead? What if Virgil didn’t make it in time–

He tumbled head over heels into Thomas’s dreamscape. Energy buzzed around him, angrily at the intruder, but Virgil couldn’t have cared less about it. He frantically darted forward to find Thomas, find Thomas, find him–

“Virgil?”

Thomas appeared to his left with a confused expression. Virgil let out an explosive sigh of relief, seeing that he was alright. No sign of panic, no sign of even a mild discomfort on him. Just a bit of confusion and worry.

“What are you doing here?” Thomas asked, “I don’t remember–”

Virgil took a calming breath again. His hands were shaking uncontrollably. He restrained himself from throwing his arms around Thomas. 

He was a dumbass! It had been a Nightmare! A fiction! Something made up based on his subconscious emotions and he had allowed it to control him. No one had been breaking into his dreamscape, no one had taken over his dream. It had just been him, being a dumbass.

 Thomas was fine, he was safe. And even if he wasn’t, there were people much more qualified to help him than Virgil was. They weren’t even friends!

“Is…is this The Office?” Virgil asked, desperate to get the voices in his head to shut up, “You’re dreaming about The Office?”

“I am?” Thomas looked around as if just realizing what was going on. “Huh, cool!” He turned back to Virgil with a quizzical look, “Everything okay? I mean, you don’t really visit me unless something’s wrong.”

“It’s, uh,” Virgil mumbled. He should have told Thomas. He should’ve said something. But Thomas was the Hero of Olympus, and could definitely take care of himself. Plus Virgil getting all panicked over a dream was like number one on his list of things-not-to-do in front of his celebrity crush.“Nevermind. Sorry for interrupting.” 

Before he could change his mind he turned on heel and threw himself from the dream with a vigur that drowned out Thomas’s yells for him to wait, stop, you don’t have to go! 

Thomas was great.

Virgil wished he had told someone about the dream. Wished that he hadn’t bolted from Thomas’s dream like that, wished that he hadn’t avoided the son of Poseidon for the next two weeks. He told himself it was nothing, and that the strange burn on his forearm had been from the Lava wall the week before. Two weeks turned into three, and then three turned to four without incident.

Thomas still offered him canoeing lessons, no one woke in the middle of the night screaming, no new campers with glasses wandered through the borders and caught fire. It was as painfully dull as living in camp had ever been.

Everything was great.

Then, on the last day of summer, Thomas Sanders went missing without a trace.

[Next Ask for the Percy Jackson au]

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Olly Olly Oxenfree (part four)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

TW: Victim blaming, mentions of drowning, another weed brownie

———————

all the outs in free

The mud sloshes loudly as Cathy and Joan trudge away from Fort Milner. They try not to look at the stew of muck beneath their feet, for they fear that they may see tints of red glistening in the slop.

Neither of them spoke as they walked across the field. Cathy was lost in thought, coming up with entire spider webs of theories in her head, while Joan was just in a state of shock. Her face was pale, aside from her eyes, which are still puffy and rimmed with red from crying. She had tried to wipe away the tears, but scrubbing her face with her sleeve only inflamed the skin further. She gave up after a while.

Dark mist rolled in the distance, near Main Street. Cathy watched the black fog. Sometimes she thought she could hear other footsteps stamping in the mud somewhere off in the distance. Other times it’s right behind her. She can’t be too sure.

She and Joan get to the fence that wrapped around the Comm Tower. When they looked at the metal chainlink, they didn’t feel safe, rather trapped.

It was there to keep them in.

“Hey! Hey!” Anne is running down from the ladder. “I saw you coming up from the tower!”

“How are you doing?” Joan asked.

“Umm- better.” Anne said. “No luck with the radio. It’s been what my therapist would call a ‘negative reinforcer.’ I’m just glad I took that second brownie.”

“What?” Cathy snapped.

“When did you take a second one?” Joan asked.

“Just before you came. Don’t worry about it!” Anne said as she climbs back up the ladder. If she sees the way Cathy is fuming, she ignores it.

“If that’s what you need- fine.” Joan said. It was clear she didn’t want anyone fighting at the moment.

The three of them climb up to the top of the tower where Kitty is waiting. The girl looks slightly better from when Joan and Cathy last saw her, but definitely still wry and jittery.

“Hey, Kit,” Joan waved halfheartedly. “Night’s still goin’, huh?”

“Yeah.” Kitty replied dryly. “I couldn’t get anything to work beside the speaker.”

“More than we could do,” Cathy said.

They all went into the tower cabin to get out of the cold. The wind was a lot crueler all the way up there, like it was adamant on knocking one of the teenagers off with its powerful gales. Joan shoved her next-to-numb hands into her jacket pocket, which didn’t help much since the coat was still wet from the rain at Fort Milner.

“Oh!” Anne suddenly said. “I got it! It’s Maggie Lee?”

“Maggie Lee?” Kitty echoes curiously.

“Yeah! She has a boat!” Anne went on. “Something good finally hatred loose from all this hysteria, eh? Anyway, my sister, Mary, used to work at the Park’s office. She had to deliver mail to that lady almost every day. I know there’s a key down there.”

“So, we’re gonna—”

“No!” Cathy barked. Kitty snaps her mouth shut with a small lurch of her shoulders. “No no no! We are not going to go with the first plan from the group’s resident burnout.” She wheeled around to glare at Anne when she said that.

Anne narrows her eyes and ruffled herself up. With her brown hair frizzing from her unruly, half-undone spacebuns and smaller stature than the dark-skinned girl, she looked about as intimidating as a raccoon trying to defend its piece of garbage it just stole from the rubbish bin. Her voice, however, was biting, like the chilled gales just outside the cabin.

“I am not a burnout!” She snapped.

“What other plan do we have, Cathy?” Joan said, trying to step in again.

“Oh, I don’t know! Fix the radio, find Catalina, set fire to the mug shop!” Cathy began to rattle off, “And those are just at the top of my head!”

“Those won’t do us any good.”

Cathy clenched her jaw and began stalking up to Anne. She easily towered over to paler girl, riling herself up like a smoking volcano about to blow or a mother owl who just had one of her chicks threatened- her talons are open and primed for blood.

“Anne,” She laughed harshly. Her voice is as cold and hard as a glacier. “don’t forget that this is entirely your fault to begin with.”

She seemed to forget about Joan taking all the blame at the cable car. Or, perhaps, she just didn’t want to throw her step-sister under the bus like that.

“Excuse me?”

“And now,” Cathy went on, overpowering Anne with her barbed tone. The gritting of her teeth quickly replaced the image of an owl with a timber wolf. “now you want us to trust you when things are really bad? YOU made Joan bring the radio- over twenty messages in all caps if I remember being told correctly. YOU brought us here!”

“Come on, guys, calm down!” Joan attempted to step in. “This is nobody’s fault! And if it is going to be someone’s fault, let it be mine. I already owned up to it! So...there! Blame is on me! Blood is on my hands!” Saying that last part made a sick feeling of fear coil deep in her stomach.

“Yeah, this isn’t very, uh,” Kitty tries to help cool things down, too. “Productive.”

But their efforts were in vain. Anne was pissed off, now. And Joan knew better than anyone that her anger was a deep, dark, long-running thing. The blonde steps back and pulled Kitty with her, as if she thought her friend may actually explode.

“It should be obvious that you’re the only weirdo here,” She said, going after Cathy with words laced in sickly green venom. “You are throwing all of this out of whack! We,” She gestures for her, Kitty, and Joan, “all grew up together!”

“Guys, please calm down.” Joan spoke up again. Her presence is finally reminded to the fuming pair, but not in the way she had wanted.

“Joan, I am not putting my life in this freak’s hands!” Cathy spat. She wasn’t going after Joan, in fact her eyes softened when she began talking to her step-sister, but her voice remained spiky and wrapped in shards of glass. “This entire night has been nothing but a joke to her! I mean, did you hear the first thing she said to us back up at that way station?” She does a terrible impressions of Anne’s voice, “‘I thought you were a werewolf’- like, what the fuck is up with that?! How are you even defending this bimbo?”

“Cathy!” Kitty yelped. Her eyes are wide in alarm and she glances nervously over at her cousin. She took another step back, this time being to one to pull Joan with her. It was as if she saw smoke wreathing out of Anne’s nostrils or something.

“I know you said Anne was ‘harmless’ or whatever, but the bitch ate two fucking weed brownies! In a crisis situation!” Cathy was working herself up to a proper temper. Her face was flaming red with rage, which was impressive given her darken skin color. “I’m done giving her passes. And you should, too.”

“I don’t need a pass from you.” Anne growled. “Joan is my best friend.”

That comment cut Joan deep in the heart. She had been mentally siding with Cathy, the girl did have a point, plus she was her new sister and she feared not going along with her would completely shatter their relationship, but Anne was right. They were best friends. They had been together since Joan was fostered by her mum and moved to the girl’s city.

God, she wished she didn’t have to be there right now. The ghosts were one thing, but this? She did not sign up for her relationships breaking into pieces right before her eyes.

“Oh yeah? Well, Joan is MY best friend!” Cathy barked back.

“Guys, please!” Joan shouted. “Stop it! Stop fighting!”

“Yes. Please.” Kitty agreed softly.

“Listen, I don’t care what Cavewoman Cathy says—”

“What is that?!”

“—there is a boat at Maggie Lee’s house. And the key is back on Main Street.” Anne went on, ignoring Cathy’s stupid, flabbergasted expression.

“And when your plan fails spectacularly, two of us are going to have to stay here with the semi-functioning walkie talkie.” Cathy said, crossing her arms.

“Well, Joan has the radio.” Anne also crossed her arms. If she was trying to make herself seem more mature or maybe was just trying to mimic and mock Cathy, neither Joan nor Kitty knew. “Are you okay to go to town?” She looks around Cathy’s hulking figure to look at her friend.

“Yeah,” Joan said. Sure, her throat sort of stung from yelling and the start of a panic attack was boiling up in her chest a welting sore, and there was also the whole being-wet-in-the-freezing-cold-night and persistent, never ending headache thing, but she chose to keep that to herself. “I’m fine. Ready whenever.”

“She shouldn’t go alone.” Kitty jumped back in. “Three of us don’t need to stay up here.”

“Right. I’ll go!” Anne volunteered quickly. “It was my brilliant idea in the first place.”

“Are you serious? Your food is going to kick in at any second and then you really will be a completely unreliable bimbo.” Cathy said.

“I am not a bimbo!” Anne snarled.

“Aaaagh! Stop it!” Joan growled. Her own anger was starting to bubble inside of her.

After her plea, Cathy rounds on her.

“Keeping in mind who has been with you this entire night—”

“Keeping in mind who you’re tired of!” Anne cut in.

“Keeping in mind who’s taller!” Cathy said louder. “Who do you want going with you?”

It was all so overwhelming. Joan wished they could all just go as a group, surely that was safer, anyway, but it was also just wishful thinking. If Cathy and Anne tried to get down from the tower together, Joan was sure somebody was gonna get pushed off.

She feels that coil in her stomach tighten and tighten and tighten. It becomes a painful sensation in her gut that she has no other choice but to-

“Cathy, let’s go.”

Cathy sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

“What?!” Anne cried. It was clear she hadn’t been planning for Joan to not pick her. “Why?! Why her?”

“We’re still doing your plan,” Joan said gently, hoping to cool her friend down. “Who cares about who’s on the Home and Away team?”

“But I wanna be on the Joan team.” Anne said. Her eyes looked genuinely hurt. Joan’s heart pinches painfully in her chest. “I wanna feel like— like— needed.”

The pinch gets tighter until it feels like two slim claws are trying to pull her aorta right out of her chest.

Joan tried to speak, tried to make her friend feel better, but Anne just sighed and shook her head.

“Just— just, fine, whatever. Go have fun, you two.” She said.

“It’s not supposed to be fun. That’s the point.” Cathy rolled her eyes.

“Oh god, will you just shut up?” Anne hissed.

“Okay, before things get stupid again,” Kitty said. “Good luck with the whole key thing. We’ll be waiting, guys.”

“Thanks, Kit. You’re the best.” Joan smiled at Kitty, who manages to give her one back. “But...are you gonna be okay with...the girl?”

Kitty actually laughed. “I’ll be fine. She’s just cranky.”

“I’m not cranky!” Anne grumbled from where she was very obviously sulking.

“I’ll take care of her!” Kitty assured Joan, who nodded and made her way out of the cabin with Cathy on her heels.

The trek down from the tower was silent. In fact, neither sister spoke until they were past the gate and back into the field.

“Look,” Cathy sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go that far back there.”

“Mmm.” Joan merely replied. She wasn’t ignoring Cathy per se, rather putting more attention on the darkness that lurked on the path to Main Street. She shivered.

“Okay, I’m just going to clear the air, alright? Just so Anne or whoever can’t say I was hiding it.” Cathy said. Joan glances back at her momentarily. “You may have heard that I was, uh, in jail?”

Joan says nothing. She just keeps walking. It very clearly makes Cathy uneasy.

“Well,” She went on. “I never went to jail. But I did beat up a guy and go to juvenile detention for it.”

“Why’d you, uhh...why’d you do it?” Joan asked softly. The thought that her younger sister was now scared of her sent cold vines of fear creeping up through Cathy’s insides.

“My mum got sick.” She said, “And then she got really sick and this kid threw a baseball at my head, and yes he was joking, but I just kinda-“ She sighed. “I popped.”

“We all break sometimes.” Joan said. “I understand.”

“You do?” Cathy perked up a little.

“Yeah.” Joan nodded. “Trust me, I do.”

Cathy smiled a little.

“I’m glad.”

She and Joan continue their trek until they got to Main Street. Cathy was just about to ask if Joan was religious, and if she wasn’t if she was going to reconsider after that night, when she noticed a human shadow cast across the pavement.

“Oh my god, is that—”

Someone was sitting on one of the light posts, their legs swinging back and forth.

“Catalina!”

Cathy and Joan rush up to the light, their eyes wide.

“She’s alive!” Joan said. “Man, I’ve never been so happy to see you in my l-”

Static.

Joan let out a short cry of pain as static filled her mind and vision seemed to glitch out like an old TV. When she looks up, Catalina’s eyes are glowing red.

“Oh no,” Cathy muttered, stepping back. “She’s doing- she’s doing the eye thing!”

“Come on, Catalina, snap out of it! Look alive!” Joan tried. “Umm...hang in there, baby?”

“Good try.” Cathy pat her shoulder.

Joan grit her teeth. She could feel the cold metal of the radio weigh heavily in her pocket. She has no choice but to slip it out and tune in.

102.3

The first triangle forms.

95.1

The second-

“NO!!”

Joan is falling, everything is upside down and she can’t see at all, but then she’s upright again and tottering in her spot like a newborn lamb. She winces.

“You think you can control me?” Catalina asked, tilting her head slowly. Her voice is like it had been back at Fort Milner, distorted and dark.

Cathy and Joan exchange nervous looks.

“What? No! We’re not trying—“

“No, you’re not trying!” Not-Catalina said. “You’re not trying at all!”

“¥ðµ håvêñ’† ¢håñgêÐ,” Said The Sunken. Their voices appear out of nowhere, origination from an unknown source. “ñð† å ßï†. ßµ† ¥ðµ’rê å £ïñê gïrl.”

“What— what more can we do?” Joan said desperately. “We’re barely holding onto our—“

“‘What more can you do?’” Not-Catalina echoed mockingly. “You can do your job, that’s for starters. You can be what you signed up for.”

“𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦’𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕗𝕗,” Crackles the radio. “𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕟𝕠 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕒 𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕟.”

It just had to go and pipe in, didn’t it? What with Catalina- or Not-Catalina, Whatever the fuck she may be now, and those ghosts talking and all, the radio now chipping in only added to the intensity, and the terrible pressure pressing down on Joan’s skull.

“No more heart than a...” Not-Catalina’s voice trailed off and died. Her body fell like a rag doll from the lamppost.

“Is she-?” Joan swallowed thickly. “Is she, um, alive?”

“I-I don’t-”

Not-Catalina, or Catalina, now, stirs, then sat up. She blinked her normal brown eyes at the duo standing above her.

“Are you okay?” Cathy asked. “Can you remember anything that just happened?”

“I’m fine. I can— I’m fine.” Catalina stood up, brushing away the hands reaching down to her for help. “And I... I remember Fort Milner...and you two.”

“That’s it?”

“Well... I also remember that radio.” Catalina turns on Joan. “And I remember this being all your fault.”

-.-. --- ..- .-. .- --. . / .. ... / -. --- - / .- .-.. .-- .- -.-- ... / - .... . / .-- .- -.-- --..-- / -.. . .- .-. .-.-.-

The bonfire in front of the Main Street tunnel blazes slightly when Anne throws a few sticks into the flames. They get eaten away in seconds before Joan’s eyes, which are edged with a black blur. She blinked, smoke stinging them slightly, and looked up at the others.

“Wait, it’s Catalina’s turn already?” Anne asked.

“Yes, it’s my turn.” Catalina said. “I’ve been waiting this whole time!”

“Hold on-“ Joan looked around. The ocean licking against the rocky edge to the street is but a black void behind her. She snaps her head forward again, preferring to look into the foggy abyss that was the closed down tunnel behind Catalina. “What’s going on again?”

“It’s Catalina’s turn.” Kitty said.

“Yeah, it’s Catalina’s turn.” Cathy nodded.

“And you of all people should know what I’m not going at ask because I’m not going to waste it.” Catalina turned to Joan. “Joan. What did you do.”

Joan’s mouth hangs open like a fish out of water. Catalina’s judgmental stare does not pity her stunned expression.

“Tell me why my best friend, and your idiot best friend, and your new step-sister are all screwed.”

“This isn’t her fault.” Cathy stepped in quickly, already knowing things were going to get riled up.

“Cathy, I’m sorry, but you don’t know who you speak of, dear.” Catalina said.

“Catalina, seriously, I can vouch for this,” Anne said. “This isn’t her fault.”

“It has to be her fault, of course it’s her fault.”

Joan clenched her fists. The numbness in her fingers dissipates for a moment. Bubbling anger feels hot in her belly.

“Why?” Joan snapped. “Why does it have to be my fault?”

“Why does it have to be your fault? Are you serious?”

Joan clenches her jaw, glaring daggers at Catalina.

“You’re gonna learn, Cathy, I swear to god. The whole town looks at her like she’s got a fucking Scarlet Letter tattooed on her forehead, and the giant, lit up, Christmas tree reason why is that Maria is dead because of her!”

A near subzero sensation spreads through Joan’s entire body, and not because of the temperature outside. Then, the chill is overcome by molten lava-like fury that bubbles up like pus from an abscess.

“It would take a really sick person to see it that way, and I would love to hear your explanation!”

“Maria was going to be free! She was going to be out of here until this one convinced her to go swimming one last time.” Catalina stopped her pacing. Her eyes are cold and hard. “And she drowned. Maria drowned, while this one could barely flap her arms.”

All eyes turned to stare.

“That doesn’t make it my fault!” Joan cried. “Anyone could have been there— anyone— and then they would’ve watched her die, you unbelievable cunt!”

“‘Anyone’ wouldn’t have watched her die, Joan. Anyone else would have done something!” Catalina snapped back.

“Okay, enough!” Cathy steps in between the two. “Seriously. I can’t even believe we’re talking about this right now.”

“Cathy,” Joan scampered up to Cathy like a lost lamb would to its mother. She grips tightly to her step-sister’s sleeve. “Cathy, it was awful- it’s still awful... I-”

Cathy set a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I know. It’s okay, I know. But right now we’re going to break into that office, find that key, an we’re going to go home.”

“No.” Catalina said.

Cathy snapped her head around to the older girl. Her teeth are gritted. She’s clearly had enough.

“No?” She echoed, anger lacing her voice. “What do you mean, no?”

“Aagh!!” Pain lances through Joan’s head. Then Cathy’s head. Then Anne and Kitty’s. Catalina began to float into the air.

“All the outs in free.....”

What happens next is nothing short of a whirlwind. Cathy and Joan get jarred out of the time loop and, like the many times before, Cathy only has vague memory of being in it. However, by the pale, shaken expression on her step-sister’s face, she knew it couldn’t have been good.

When she asks, Joan says she doesn’t want to talk about it.

They break into the park building and find the key in the form of another pocket radio, this one with more stations.

It does not feel right in her hands.

As they’re walking back to meet up with the others, Cathy reads off a letter written by Maggie Lee, which talks about how the history of Edward’s Island was a lie and how she buried these secrets all over the area. The letter ends and, after the sister discussing the news, Cathy began to say something else as they passed the path that led down to the beach.

“Joey, why are you wearing that jacket? It’s, like, seventy-five degrees and the sun’s out!”

“What? It’s cold—”

Soft, fuzziness floods her mind. Her vision distorts, but her body doesn’t seem to react. Her muscles are calm...relaxed. She’s at peace for the first time that night.

“—and the sun is only kinda out.”

“No, see! Look! Sunlight!”

A voice ahead laughs. “Maria, we didn’t bring drinks.”

Joan was giggling, too, but then the noise catches painfully in her throat.

“Wait— Maria?!”

Her older sister grins at her. Her curly hair is done back in a rare ponytail- she usually prefers to have it down and frame her face in a way that makes her look like a lion. The smile painted on her pink lips would make even the sun jealous of its perfect glow.

“The one and only!” She chirped. At her side, Catalina chuckles lovingly.

“Where- where’s Cathy?!” Joan looked around frantically. That panic attack from before starts to rise up again, desperate to overcome her.

“Cathy? Who’s Cathy?” Catalina asked curiously. Her voice is so sweet when she talks to Joan, not laced with hidden poison or barbed with vision sarcasm, but genuinely loving towards the younger girl. “Is someone else coming?”

“Yeah, is that a friend of yours?” Maria added.

“You wanna know who Cathy is?” Joan grits. She’s tired of losing her every single hour. “She’s my new step-sister.”

She sees Catalina and Maria’s eyes widen.

“Now do you know what’s happening?”

She thinks they get it, but then Catalina and Maria began to laugh. They continued their trek down to the beach and Joan’s legs follow them without her command.

“Okay, can you call your new friend your ‘best friend’ or something?” Maria asked, giggling. “‘Step-sister’ is kinda approaching into my territory.”

“Yeah, it’s like when my mum calls her cat her ‘special little lady.’ I mean, I’m standing right there!” Catalina put in. She looked so happy...and not evil.

“Wh— why— why am I here?” Joan squeaked. She’s getting weak in the knees. She thinks she was going to be sick.

“You said you wanted to go to the beach.” Maria said.

“Good choice, too,” Catalina said. “Today turned out to be a flawless day.”

The nausea seems to melt away as they got down to the beach and stepped onto the sand. When Joan looked at the ocean, she felt no fear, no anxiety, no trauma-induced pain. Just...serenity and curiosity for the sparkling blue body of water.

Her mind feels like it was melting, but the sensation sends a ripple of peace through her body, almost like morphine. She calms by degrees in a matter of seconds. To be honest, she can barely remember what she had been freaking out about moments earlier... Even when Maria proclaims she forget her phone on the ferry and Joan and Catalina left alone on the beach when she ran up to go get it, she felt no nervousness.

She sat down across from Catalina.

“I’m glad we could do this today.” The older girl said. “I know you two are close and all I know it can be annoying to have the girlfriend around, but...”

Joan smiled slightly. “Yeah, I- I would love to. Really.”

Catalina beams. “I’m glad! And, hey, Mars loves you a lot. I mean, I’m sure you already know that, but seriously. She talks about you all the time.”

Joan giggled, blushing slightly. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Yeah, of course!”

“Had to fight the skipper for it, but he didn’t expect many squats I could do,” Maria said as she walked back over.

All three girls laughed.

Catalina excuses herself after Maria got settled to go but some drinks up at the shop, leaving Maria and Joan alone.

“I’ve missed you,” Joan whispered. “I-I know we live in the same house and everything, but- I missed you, Mars.”

“Aww,” Maria cooed. “I missed you, too, JoJo. Also, hey, I know this was supposed to be our day, but I completely forget that I promised Catalina that I would do something with her. Thanks for chaperoning.”

“No problem.” Joan said.

“It’s really important to me that you like her, so tell me the truth. What do you really think of us being together?”

Joan didn’t even have to process the question.

“Stick with it. Stay with her.” She said. “If she makes you laugh, if she makes you smile...who am I to think otherwise?”

Maria lit up brightly. “Thank you! Good blessings and good tidings!” She and Joan laugh. “Hey, I’ve never noticed that that’s a good jacket. I should ask for it back. My new one sucks. Feels like I got...shoes on my arms or something.”

Joan pulled the soft grey jacket closer around her. “No way, bucko!”

“Bucko?” Maria laughed. “You haven’t called me that in years! Come here- let me at least see if it still fits.”

“Fine!” Joan groaned. “But even if it does, I’m not giving it back!”

Maria scoots over and reaches to grab the jacket when Joan takes it off. When their hands brush each other, everything cuts to static.

[esmeblaise]

A quick summary of sanders characters you can reference for rping and fanfic writing

Thomas: Goofy,  theater nerd, and a regular nerd,  cartoons, pizza, has lots of problems, talks to himself a lot, jumps to conclusions, nervous, does not like horror, loves his friends dearly, tries his best to be a good person,  jokes, really really nice, likes to sing, gay, so gay, supportive, a total dork, likes to laugh, tries not to cuss

Logan (Logic): logical, serious, i know what needs to be done, two moods: i have no emotion and EXTREME EMOTION, usually anger, feels guilty when he lets himself have emotions, wants to learn, exasperated, please listen to me, likes to teach others

Patton (Morality): happy pappy patton, i love literally everyone, has to be good or things will be bad, needs to see the best in others or it will break his heart, doesn't let himself be negative, naive, supportive, somehow the dad and the child?, loves his family more than anything, actually scared, confused most of the time

Roman “Princey” (Creativity): extra, romantic, dreamy, theater nerd, self confidence issues, protective, loud, trying his best, a little rude but its usual unintentional, argues with logan constantly, wants to be better, ironically bad at giving romantic advise, a dork,

Virgil (Anxiety): an angsty teen, so fucking emo, wants to be good, is trying his best, paranovigilant, scared scared terrified, protective, he loves his family, wants everyone to be safe, hates who he is, really hates who was

Deceit: self preservation, really just wants the best for his family but knows no one will listen to him,  so he tries to trick them into figuring it out themselves,  really really smart, exhausted by the dumbasses around him, sarcastic, totally extra, theater nerd, a total fucking dork

Remus (Dark Creativity): dude what even, a run on sentence, down the internet rabbit hole, ok but WHAT IF, extra, so fucking extra, extremely morbid sense of humor, says whatever goes through his head, no filter at all, just wants to have fun, hates boredom, does not care about anyones opinion, giggles, i fucking love him

Dr. Emile Picani: autistic, non binary, a super nerd, he seems random but he actually knows what the hell hes talking about and is suuuuper smart, hes on the same subject the topic is just different, references references references, cartoons, exited dumpling, fanpals,will not stop talking, uncomfortable with touch and displays of affection, he can be serious, tells you what you need to hear, hes a licensed therapist so whatever he does works 

Remy (Sleep): lazy, clingy, arrives late with starbucks, gets lost easily, calls everyone  girl or an insult, especially if he loves them, a total drama queen, acts like a stereotypical popular teenage girl really, depressed, somehow convinced everyone hes cool so now he just kind of has to roll with it??? Help!??

Joan: logical and smart with a dark slightly twisted sense of humor, cusses constantly, anxiety, asexual, vegan, always wears beanie, sarcastic, in ask the experts is "rude" to thomas and pretends he isnt actually his friend which makes thomas sad, really cute with big puppy eyes

Talyn: awesome goth fashion, also lots of cussing, vomit, vetal miking, cats, halloween aethstetic, sardonic, small and cute but will cut you down, dark sense of humor but in a different way than joan

Valerie: kind, disney songs, basically a disney princess, romantic (really im just thinking of the valentines episode now) speaks spanish 

Elliot: sad, abused, needs help, nonbinary, deserves better, anxiety, doesnt think highly of themselves, family and relationship problems, tries their best, doesnt get emiles references but tries to anyways, really sweet, i love them

Kai: sardonic, sassy, wants more, so fucking done, kind of an angsty teen, wants to be left alone, really damn cool, doesnt let things stop them, actually self conscious, hides their feelings, pretends not to like picani

Dot: school teacher, romantic, a little exasperated with her husband, still totally loves him, wants them to work out even when they have problems, honestly they're just an old married couple, theater nerd, thinks picani is hilarious 

Larry: a lot like his wife but more exasperated and done with things, more of a theater nerd, doesn't understand his wife sometimes but still loves her and goes along with it, thinks picani is wackadoodle and does not understand him at all

Percy/Magenta (Printer): likes to fuck with everyone, will not work for others, a lil bitch really, "your magenta is low~", color lover

Missy (Misleading Compliments): seems mean at first but is actually the sweetest lil dumpling, totally clickbait, surprising, nice, you didn't expect that did you?, loves surprises 

Nate (Procrastination): lazy, laaaaazy, will not do what he's supposed to, like ever, haha no, easily distracted, protective, probably has adhd, hey look the internet, one more video last one I promise, late to everything

Pranks: mischievous, likes to laugh , its never mean, prank master, friends with missy, loves fandoms, a total nerd actually, im kinda imagining mikey from tmnt??

Feel free to add more

[puppydeathfarts]

[tw: fire, the occult, captivity mention]

Yeah, one of those stories.

The local wildfire threat isn’t new. My memories of those times over the last few years are fuzzy, though, like somebody unfocused the camera. This time it’s different. This year I’ve got “coping skills”, medication and a therapist. 

I’m waking up in a cold sweat and being allowed to know roughly why. I’ve been Havening the triggers away, medication has stopped the flashbacks (and should stop the nightmares), and I’m staying around things that make me feel safe. This doesn’t feel good but it feels like we can handle it? Enough to share, without really being that upset, anyway.

When I was a kid there was a fire at the business my parents owned. I wasn’t there but I was old enough to know what fire was and have nightmares about it. A year later we lost the house and moved into the business, upstairs. There was another fire, but this time video games were my babysitter and we were locked in our bedroom “for safety”. The windows were barred. I remember being so scared the night of the second fire, but I don’t remember any specific details and have no narrative memory of what happened. Fear, though, white knuckled and sharp, from somewhere inside.

There are others inside who responded in a different way. They tried to master the fear by mastering the fire. Studying how it flowed and grew. Letting it burn and putting it out, like it was “my” fire, a magic they controlled. You can only imagine the types of feelings we have about this part, my 9-year-old inner fire-starter. 

Those nightmares lingered for years and my mother, rather than offering anything resembling support, created answers of her own. In her head, I was clearly having past life memories: she had several theories, but Joan of Arc or a witch burned during the inquisition were her favorites. We’d study these types of stories together, watching graphic shows and movies about young women being burned alive. Expensive occult books, crystals, tarot cards, a Ouija board, and repeated intentional exposure to my fear - these were the things 11-year-old PuppyDeathFarts was getting instead of mental health care. Or anything resembling parenting.

There are a few more notes in my journal. Darker stuff, as my teenage years rolled around and I needed better and better coping skills. Therapy tomorrow is a better place to air those, I’m being told by the helpful parts in the peanut gallery tonight.

This is hard. I’m trying to remember that although pulling out trauma splinters hurts, and cleaning out the wound is gross, it’s worth it in the end. We’ve done this before and I know it’ll help.    

As far as the fires in the present go, we have an evacuation plan, go-bag and more ‘prepper’ stuff than we could fit in the car. My anxiety is through the roof, but I’m not scared about the fire up on the hill. 

What’s burning behind all these blank boxes in my memory?

[gowns]

it feels completely insane

but here’s my plan: i am going to get certified to become a substitute teacher, then take a credential program, then find work as a teacher. any kind of teacher to start with, most likely english for grades 6-12. then i’ll decide from there if i can actually become an honest to god high school drama teacher, or if i should take my teaching experience and use it towards becoming a therapist or in-home daycare director.

this feels completely insane because my mom is a teacher, my stepdad was a teacher, my dad is a teacher, my uncle is a teacher -- they all say that being a teacher blows and the american K-12 system is a bone crushing machine that kills the souls of teachers and kids alike. but then i think, ok, but what if i know that? what if i’m fully aware of the risks and the problems? what if i approach it not like maria von trapp, bright-eyed and idealistic, but rather like joan of arc: armored, clear-eyed, passionate, disciplined?

maybe there’s a possibility... somewhere, a space for us... a little space that i can carve out... i can approach the job as if it was social work... my classroom, the safe space for these kids in the machine... then introducing kids to the stage as a safe space to work out feelings, relationships, growing up....

you know, i have this crazy idea that i want to teach teenagers meisner technique. you remember, i did that 2 year meisner program and i was nuts about it, and i still am. it’s all about honesty, naming emotions, standing up for yourself, giving yourself the freedom to be reactive but then taking responsibility for your reactions. seeing how your actions affect others. i love meisner.

so i really want to give it a go as a drama teacher. and then -- if i look around, and it sucks, and i switch districts, and it still sucks -- then i can roll up my years of experience in a little bundle and set out to do drama therapy. that’s one of the options that’s beckoning to me right now. i love drama. i love therapy.

look, the thing is: psychiatry has a fucked up history and there are still a lot of fucked up people doing that work but i so deeply believe in the possibilities of radical healing. same with education: fucked up then, fucked up now, but there is the possibility to be the lone wolf superstar teacher who persists despite the institution. you can say it about anything. foster care. entertainment industry. religion. medicine. you look at the buildings, and it’s all fucked to high heaven. but there’s a space for us. a time and space for us. even if it’s a fucking dilapidated corner of an attic. a closet shelf. you can do good within fucked up institutions. i think we have to believe that, hold onto that. or else there’s no reason to believe in anything. human spirit prevailing in the face of terribly fallible human ideological constructions.

[southboundhqarchive]

MEET ERIC,

FULL NAME › Eric Kolbe AGE › twenty eight GENDER › Nonbinary (She/Her/They/Them) FROM › Provo, Utah RESIDENCE › Songbird Avenue (Midtown) OCCUPATION › Owner of Outside The Lines NOW PLAYING › Bad Reputation by Joan Jett & The Blackhearts

BIOGRAPHY,

trigger warnings: verbal abuse mention, blasphemy/excessive religion

Seventeen, a runaway in a dusty gray stolen sedan, and most definitely lost, Kolbe made her way onto the Southbound Highway with an empty stomach and eleven dollars left in her pocket. The teen had been raised in a strict religious household that was dedicated to following rules and sticking to the status quo; everything Kolbe wasn’t. For as far back as her memories allow, she can only remember getting up to mischief and rebellion in every way big and small – and in her family’s household, that was easy to do. She couldn’t keep her hands out of the cookie jar, couldn’t color inside the lines, and frequently let curiosity get the better of her. Though, it seemed Kolbe had nine lives.

Upon approaching her teenage years, slaps on the wrists turned into verbal lashings where she couldn’t stay within the box of what was appropriate. It was where she began to develop her own tastes and realized that her mind was never going to meld into that of the people’s around her. She was an outcast in her own home, and it was becoming evident that that wasn’t ever going to change. Sixteen, sticky fingers itching to break free in any way she could, she dipped them into the donation tray one Sunday morning when no one was looking. She didn’t even know what she planned on doing with the money, buy a new pair of boots, get a bus ticket? All she knew was it could be hers, and she hardly cared about the consequences. But when a fire starts in a community that is without stains, it’s not hard to find the person who was holding the matches.

Fingers were pointed at Kolbe before any sort of unofficial trial was even held, and she was declared guilty. That day her parents scrubbed through every inch of her room, looking for evidence of any other unholy acts she may have committed. Of course, they did. Journals with proof of her attraction to girls, clothes that she wasn’t even allowed to wear stashed away that she’d stolen from the local Wal-Mart, and all of her minor misdoings guaranteeing her a special spot in hell. Her parents iron grip on her life grew tighter, she was visited by a special therapist weekly, taken out of school, church visits more frequent, until she was ‘sorted out.’

So she played along. The night of her seventeenth birthday she was awarded with dinner at a local diner for behaving so well, for being the young lady they always knew she could be. Dressed in her best, she inconspicuously picked keys from the purse of the easiest target she could find, and halfway through dinner excused herself to the restroom, and the second she was out of eyesight, she was booking it straight to the car that announced itself as belonging to the remote clutched in her fist.

She drove, and drove, and drove. There was no direction in mind, no idea of what she’d be doing when the gas ran out, she just wanted away. So she continued on. There was was a twenty dollar bill in the console, and with it, she stopped at a McDonald’s, and from there she slowly started losing track of the highway signs. Where she’d before simply been directionless, she now felt lost, until she finally came upon the sign for Boot Hill. Out of the way, and what felt like far, far away from her ‘home’, it felt… perfect.

Having no money, nowhere to stay, nothing to comfort you in a place where no one even knew your name was scary, but she had high hopes. Something felt right here. The old car was her home for a short period, as stupid as it was to keep a stolen vehicle, stealing items from the local stores to keep herself clothed and fed, before realizing she could do the same thing and sell them for a profit. And that was the beginning.

It wasn’t long after that that her illegal activities increased in variety and how often they occurred. She was able to get herself a room at the motel, then became a bartender at the Bucking Horse Saloon to keep a steady flow of money coming in while still dealing with shadier things behind the scenes. Now, she didn’t know much of anything about building your own criminal empire, but she did know that what she was doing wasn’t enough. Slowly, carefully, she picked up recruits. You need employees and people behind you in order to start a business, right?

It was a long process, but years later, she’d established herself a small underground network of people doing various jobs, and with money coming in she was able to continue expanding. Kolbe continued to work as a bartender to not arouse any suspicions while every day her little corner of her quiet criminal world grew a bit more. If you’d asked her ten years ago where she’d be now, this was definitely not it. Still, that’s where she’d ended up. She was meant for Boot Hill. She was meant to do this.

When the money increased, she quit her job at the Bucking Horse Saloon, acquired some fake permits, and started up Outside the Lines, which was going to open the door for way more business opportunities than the obvious. The disapproving opinions of some of the townies didn’t bother her one bit. She’d been the strange one her entire life. She was soft and empathetic, but hard when she needed to be. Besides, having a business in which garnered its own attention just for existing distracted from any under the table activity that was ever going on.

Kolbe isn’t unaware of the absurdity of Boot Hill, the buzz in your ears, and dryness it leaves on your tongue. She felt it every day, she saw the effects it had on people, but she was too busy to pay it much mind. She’d fallen in love with what she’d built, and that was all that mattered to her now. Boot Hill is her home.

❝ all things truly wicked start from an innocence. ❞

CENSUS,

FACECLAIM › Katy O’Brian AUTHOR › Wren