#i like maybe three hairstyles and two of the starter shirts

[st0neddew-valley]

i started a penny save today but i cannot for the life of me motivate myself to actually start it bc i HATE the first spring and i know i don’t want to work on clearing my farm and have little inventory space and rebuilding the community center but also i want to speed-run dating penny

also before any mentions of mods, i only play on switch as of rn and also have had just shitty luck with others mods in the past :((( plus i’m technology stupid and have a laptop that’s a decade old at least

[queensdivas]

Peonies Chapter 2

Okay so this is a long chapter and we’re finally getting into more Chiara x Grigor. No it’s not what you think but I know you’ll be enjoying what I’ve written hopefully. Don’t worry there will be 

Also. For those who read my other stories. Those who are not aware Chapter Four of Wildest Notes (The Gardner one) has been uploaded. For those who are curious. 

Next Chapter

Masterlist 

Previous Chapter 

Life of a Duchess consists of balls, tea parties, making under the table deals for the country, and then an occasional outing. Life for me..it is..well.. Different. Obviously. I mean I dropped everything to now help Catherine stage a Coup against her own husband. But I’m still trying to manage my habits so I don’t lose them, even all the way out here. 

My morning always begins at seven a.m. Fernanda is to come into the rooms and open the curtains whether the sunshine is glaring into my room or it’s a cloudy day. Then after waking up I’m treated to a warm breakfast. Honestly I’m not quite sure what exactly is a Russian breakfast because I’ve never had it. 

Fernanda came into the bedroom as I was rubbing my eyes to adjust to the light. Doing a few neck stretches then plopping my arms and my legs as my hair fell in my face. To think only a few nights ago we were burying heads in the dirt and now we’re writing drafts on some sort of constitution. She placed the breakfast tray right in front of me then revealed breakfast. What looked like porridge that had raspberries on top of them, some bacon and dumplings? 

“What is this?” Crossing my legs as I lifted one of the dumplings to my nose. Smelled very sweet for a dumpling. 

“They call it vareniki I think. It’s a dumpling and they tasted good when we had them for dinner last night. I promise I wouldn’t let them serve you anything you wouldn’t like.” She stood next to me as I handed her one of the raspberries from on top of the porridge. 

“Is Catherine awake yet by chance?” Asking her as she finished the raspberry. 

“I’m not quite sure. I can go check for you.” 

“It's not too urgent yet. I just need to know when she’s wanting to have our meetings. If you happen to see her maid, send her my way. Oh! I need a sabre coach if you could keep an eye on Hernán. He’s coming sometime today and I would rather him see a familiar face than one of the ladies.” She nodded as I took my spoon into the porridge. Eh. It’s alright. Makes me miss the cooking of Chef Columbus. 

After breakfast I am to get dressed for the day which is usually my black pants, my brown and black boots, and my white button up shirt. Makes the life of Fernanda and I extremely simple because there’s no buttons or corsets. In addition. It’s either braided hairstyles or just flopping down due to the fact those big hairstyles hurt my head. 

“She’s awake and already has some sort of Count in her chambers.” Fernanda told me as I finished placing my hair in a braid. I then grabbed my cross necklace as I stared into the vanity mirror before me. 

The words of Catherine talking about Grigor after the funeral keep bouncing around in my head. If he’s an advisor he must have some sort of genius inside his head. But when you’re supposed to be an advisor or friends with someone like Peter, you lose sight of what your potential is. He is quite loyal for starters and he studied alongside Peter the Great from what I’ve been told. So..there was so much potential that is in Grigor..just needs to be pushed. Extremely hard. But don’t think I’ve pushed aside his little comment on my first night here. 

He is extremely attractive..I mean he’s tall, has beautiful green forest of eyes..maybe this is just sexual tension. I mean me having some sort of dream last night about him is sexual desire then I’m guilty. Even if I want to slap him across the face due to the comment from last night. Grigor is definitely one I would have molded into clay to have in my room. 

I’ll figure him out later. Getting up from the bench as I began twirling the cross for my walk towards Catherines apartment. If I knew we were going to stage a coup I would’ve brought my books and a trunk full of papers and pens. 

When I made it to the entrance of the apartment. The young man was standing at the entrance as I smiled at him. 

“Duchess Chiara to see Empress Catherine.” Smiling at him as they opened the door as I was led into her apartment. 

“Catherine! Coming in!” I yelled as she was sitting on the floor as she was talking with Count Orlov. Did she finally convince him? I’m going to assume so because the amount of pamphlets and books that were scattered around the room means they’re trying to start a draft of something.  

“Ah Count Orlov. Do you remember my cousin Duchess Chiara?” Waving to him as I noticed she was barefoot. Genius Catherine. Slipping off my boots as I tiptoed across her pamphlets to sit down across from her. 

“Does she?” He was going to ask the question but I nodded. Alright let me see what she’s got scattered across in her room. Dierdot, Kant, and even some Plato. Wow. We’re really trying to do a book club/Coup. Not that I don’t find the words of Plato interesting but...what person is wanting to listen to Plato when trying to change a country? 

“Ah yes. So I’ve written a 74 page treatise that should really get the people behind us on your ideals.” 

“74 pages?” Asking him as I was in shook. A little over stepping it wouldn’t you say? Do they not realize this is for the people and anything over at least two pages will make them lose interest. 

“I thought perhaps some Montaigne.” 

“I got stuck on Machiavelli. Read in the French translation he says the ends justify the means. But in the original Italian he merely asks..” Marial dropped the entire tray of tea cups as we all looked up at her. 

“Oh sorry. I was holding..holding that tray...and then I fell asleep listening to you both! Is this a coup or a fucking book club?” 

“She’s right Catherine. Remember what kind of environment you’re trying to rule. Most of these people don’t know how to read and write. So if we go on beginning to quote great men then why even stage a coup. We have to be original and sound like we truly care about them.” Catherine sighed as she got up from the ground to start walking back and forth. I crawled over to help Marial clean up all the broken tea cups. 

“Why do we not just kill him?” I love Marials enthusiasm of trying to get rid of Peter but killing him literally will not solve anything if we don’t have a good backbone of support and ideals. 

“Too messy. Anyways if we kill an Emperor, they will tie Catherine up by her toes and beat her with the blunt heads of pistols.” Marial sighed as she stopped picking up the cracked tea cups. 

“Next time he is on you, stab him in the face. In the back, Orlo cuts his throat, and then you are empress, and I am Lady Marial. The end.” Ah! It all makes sense now! How intelligent. They won’t kill them all in an instant. 

“But it..it is not so simple.” Sadly it isn't and Count Orlo is right. They will get shot and I’m not in the most chipperest of moods to lose my favorite cousin!

“The two most important things in any country is the main religion and the military. If you could at least get one of the two backing Catherine, you’re golden. Although they’re both extremely popular to everyone, I’d say get the military behind you Catherine. Fire scares more people than any man in the sky.” Forgive me God but I’m only trying to help. 

“We need the church to ratify her to the whole of Russia from the pulpit after, so they must support her.” Orlo pointed out as I nodded in agreement. Both are important to Governments damn it.  

“Not to mention if Ivan is alive, we need a sympathetic military for if we kill him before that is all in place, then the military and others may get behind Ivan, and run over Catherine in the process.” Whose Ivan? 

“No one even knows where Ivan is.” Again who is Ivan? 

“Who is Ivan?” Catherine and I both asked. 

“Ivan is Peter’s half-brother, bastard son to Peter the Great. His supporters tried to take the throne after Peter first came to power.” Buffa. If there’s a half son we will be royally screwed! And if they do find this Ivan we’re even more screwed! Not that I can get involved when the coup finally happens but I’m here to give it a good push. 

“I will find out where he is?” Now we’re doing a ghost hunt. What a fun time!

“How?” Count Orlo asked as we all looked upon Catherine.

“Cleverly.” 

“I suspect we need a year to get our pamphlets just right.” A year? Mamma mia at this point I’d rather watch paint dry! 

“It’s no wonder you never fuck anyone.” My eyes widened as I got up from the floor to sit on Catherine's bed. 

“You..you cannot speak to me like that!” 

“Because I am a serf?” 

“Because it’s rude.” A throat laugh began as I covered my mouth with my hand. Looking at the door as some strange man came walking into the room with a book in his hand! Oh shit! 

“How dare you! You just walk into my chambers sir!” My hand was slithering down to my left leg as I kept a dagger there. Tell me we already don’t have a spy. 

“I would have ridden, but my horse has trouble with stairs.” Smart ass. 

“Empress?” EVEN BIGGER OH SHIT! Standing up from the bed as I rapidly walked to stand next to Catherine. 

“Orlo, what are you doing here?” 

“He brought us some books. I left mine back home.” Chiming in as I waved at the Empress. 

“I...uh..thought the Duchess and Empress would be interested..”

“Oh God you’re dull. Get out!” I thought he was being somewhat helpful. 

“Sir.” 

“If you’ll excuse me Catherine.” Slipping out with Marial as we turned the corner but tried to listen in on what was going on. 

He’s giving her a lover? And is the name Leo..and has a big loch? It was either loch or cock but I sadly couldn’t hear what he said. Though he was loud sadly it was a little mumbled. He walked past us as I stared at the wall. Catherine came walking out from the bedroom as the three of us followed her. 

“Is that your lover?” Asking her as she rolled her eyes. 

“Sadly.” How can that be sadly because wow he’s a beautiful dessert.

“Catherine..he’s extremely good looking. I think I would have a sculpture molded from his face at home.” He would look quite beautiful right next to Da Vinci. Seems appropriate wouldn’t you think? Grigors sculpture would be on the left of Da Vinci if I lived in a perfect will. 

“It is disgusting that he would just give me a lover, like I am an animal to be serviced.” Looking up to Count Orlo who had no idea what to even say in this conversation. 

“You would be serviced well. He’s a Voronsky, they are well-known lovers.” I zoned out for a second till Orlo started panicking in front of us. Does he really think that Peter noticed all the pamphlets? He gives him more credit than he deserves because he doesn’t even know Catherine. He thinks of her as some dumb wife at the moment and she’s from Europe. Makes her quite the bookworm. 

“Fuck fuck fuck! The very week we start our adventure, Peter gifts you a man!” He slammed down everything on the table as the three of us watched him panic. 

“He’s well known to insert spies into situations because he’s paranoid that no one truly likes him. It’s something common he does oh fuck! Maybe he knows! And I was there and we had pamphlets about Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ!” Approaching him as I gripped his shoulders. 

“Count Orlo will you please take one second and just breath!” Yelling as he stopped panicking and took in a very deep breath in. 

“Orlo will it make you feel better if I give him back?” Catherine asked him as he slightly nodded. 

“How? He’s Peter's gift.” I mean giving back a gift is a whole new world of being a giant dick. 

“Cleverly.” A boy came into the room and got everyone to stop talking. 

“Empress, you wanted to know when the dresses for the ladies’ tea arrived.” There’s no way they came in that quickly! We’ve got some fast fingers in our midst! Catherine and I smirked at each other as we began to walk off. 

“What dresses?” Marial asked as Catherine and I smirked. 

“Just wait and see!” Telling her as we linked arms to start walking out of her apartment. 

“Do you think this plan will work?” I asked Catherine as we hurried towards The Ladies tea room. What’s the best way you can get back at a woman besides being a gossiping old lady like them? Their appearance. Women of the court need to look their best constantly and if you destroy their image by one minor miscommunication. You bring down their entire existence. 

“Oh yes. Vlad. Have some tea ready for us when we get down there.” Catherine told him as we hurried into the tea room. 

“What colors did you make the dress?” I asked her as she smirked. 

“This extremely ugly green and purple. It's all the rage in Europe.” Ah yes I forgot they are. 

The wives were already gasping and filled with excitement for the new dresses as we walked over to the small tea table for us. I’m much more of a coffee person but I will dabble in tea of course. We sat down as I poured her the tea for the show to begin. We’re supposed to keep our eye on the stripped one that should be THERE IT IS! 

Watching the dress being bounced around as I took a sip of my tea waiting for someone to take a nice hold of it. That being The Lady that has the horse's face grabbed a hold of it as she held it up against her. She was smiling like an idiot as she turned towards Catherine and I. 

“Empress, do you like it?” Oh my god if I don’t drink my tea I will die of laughter. 

“Mhm. It looks marvelous.” 

“Truly wonderful colors mixing together.” Trying to be nice to the horse is extremely harder than it looks. 

“You will stand out.” In more ways than one. The face she placed on her horse face was a fake smile and she’s wearing far too much makeup. 

“As I always do.” I might throw up because of this conversation. She took the dress with her as we both looked at each other to give ourselves a little cheer. Fernanda came into the room as she was walking straight towards me. She leaned down towards my ear as I was told that Hernán had arrived. 

“Catherine I know you’ll be greeting the Generals. But my instructor has arrived and I do need to have my lessons.” Telling her as she nodded. We stood up as she stopped me to ask questions. 

“What lesson?” Catherine asked as I smiled. 

“Fencing, sabres, and actual sword fighting. Oh is there an empty hall that I may use” Asking her as she thought for a moment. 

“I’ll arrange the music hall to be yours. For as long as you need.” Perfect. 

“Thank you Catherine. Come by if you need me.” Fernanda and I left the tea room. 

My instructor was a day behind when I left Trento due to the fact this was a last second decision. Luckily he’s made it and I can get back into the habit of training with swords and sabres. I also owe Catherine a big thank you due to the fact that she’s letting me train in the music hall. PlusI imagine no one is going to be playing Handel or Arcangelo Corelli. 

Two of the servants followed me into the music hall as I was standing in an empty room. Guess he’s getting comfortable in his room. The servants placed down the trunk as I popped it open to look at my gear. How I have surely missed this. 

“Ah Duchess Chiara!” He yelled as I raised my head up from my fencing trunk. 

“Hernán Gil! Glad that you could make it to Russia extremely last second.” Placing my foot on the stool to fix my left boot. 

“Of course. Anything to get out of Palma. Hopefully you haven’t lost your touch with a sabre Dear Duchess.” He swung his sabre sword around in front of him as I put my foot down then into my fencing trunk. 

“Have I ever lost my touch?” Pulling my sabre out to do a few little tricks before we got into our positions. Standing across from one another with my left foot back and my right foot ancy ready to go. 

“Vamos!” He came swinging as I blocked his attack then swinging it around to then smack the sabre on his arm.

“Excellent!” He cheered as I took in a deep breath as both Hernán and I got into our standing positions. 

“Vamos!” Our blades instantly met as I spun my wrist trying to knock his sabre out of his hand. But he took a step back to try to aim for my head but I held my sabre horizontally to block his attack. He took a step back then swiftly smacked the sword against my shoulder. Cursing under my breath as I shook my head. 

“Cheap shot.” I laughed as we got back into our positions. 

“Vamos!” Raising my sabre as I tried to aim for his shoulder out of the corner of my eye Grigor came into the room to watch. That was a quick meet and greet from the Generals. Thought it would last a lot longer. 

All I could pay attention to was the fact that Grigor was just waiting for one of us to win so he could do something. What does he want? Blocking his outside attack to then move my sabre right into his chest. 

“Is there something I can help you with?” Taking off my mask as I was beginning to fix my gloves. Grigor shook his head as he approached me and looked like he had something stuck up his own ass. 

“You think strolling into the palace and our first introduction being a little bitch was something adorable?” Someone’s wife just got screwed. But not by his own cock. Does he not remember how that conversation started? Because I remember him saying that I was able to make his cock hard after my introduction to the Emperor. Most women would find that flattering, I find it repulsive. 

“Not adorable. I believe they call it an honest chap who calls you out on your wrong doings. Hernán if you want to take a break go for it. You’ve had a long journey.” Turning my attention completely on Grigor as Hernán left the room. Grigor marched towards me as I stood there watching this poor excuse of a man try to act as if he was a top bitch. Poor men like him make me sigh and want to drink for them. 

“Are you trying to intimidate me?” When he got a little close for comfort I stuck out my sabre to aim it directly in the middle of his chest. 

“Trust me. You don’t want to get any closer.” 

“You think you’re flimsy little sword scares me? It’s fake.” He pushed it away as I hit him in the shoulder with it. 

“Ouch!” He grabbed his arm to then march towards me with all of his wrath showing. Smacking him on his leg which caused him to yelp in pain. 

“I should have the guards whip you!” I would love him to try and have one of the guards lay a finger on me. Oh how I would love it!

“Grigor. I warn you. IF you think Russian women are crazy, you wouldn’t last a minute back in Italy. We women use our fist and words to solve our problems. Instead of whispers and tea parties like your wife.” He reached down for one of the fencing swords as if he was going to stab me. 

“Go ahead. Do you think you scare me? Catherine told me everything about you. You let the Emperor eat fruit out of your own wife’s cunt. If you let the Emperor walk all over you like that, then why would I let you try to intimidate me. You even threatened to have guards sent after me instead of dealing it yourself.” My sabre lashed towards the fencing sword of mine to knock it out of his hands. 

“Besides. You can’t lay one finger on my body. If one scar is placed on my body from you, the guards, or Peter himself. Italy joins the Swedish and we run over your little shit hole of a palace. Then I place my own private home in St. Petersburg and have you wash the floors.” The tip of my blade was underneath his chin as he kept a straight face. 

“I don’t like making threats but when you come storming in here expecting me to bend over to kiss your ass. A position you're familiar with obviously. But when you threaten to have the guards whip me well.” Grigor began storming off as I followed him very close. 

“Tell me Grigor. Do you wish this kind of life for yourself?” He kept shaking his head as I was trying to talk to him. 

“To allow some man child rule over such a beautiful country!” Halting in front of me to turn his heel sharply. 

“He’s not a man child!” He growled as he turned towards me. 

“And you’re a dumb ass. We can be doing this all day.” 

“What do you want?” 

“You approached me Grigor! I was quite content having my fencing lessons then you came waltzing in here expecting an apology. To quote my mother when I argue with my brothers from home. Ladies are not allowed to start fights, but we are surely allowed to finish them.” Grabbing his collar to pull him closer to me. 

“For once be a man and solve your own problems instead of cowering under the fucking bed.” Grigor's eyes widened at my statement as we just kind of stared at each other. I noticed that both my and Grigors bottom lips were shaking a little bit. Biting it to stop it twitching as I let go of him. 

“Forgive me. I can be..quite..of a dick when it comes to my passions.” Taking a step back as my throat gets dry. 

“I am too. Perhaps we both got off on the wrong foot with each other.” I placed down my sabre to rub my hands together. 

“Perhaps we did. After hearing what Catherine was doing through and Peter punching her in the stomach. I was sort of mad at the world and everyone in it.” 

“And with my wife..constantly sleeping with the Emperor. I’m sort of not in the right place with myself. May I reintroduce myself.” Grigor finished as I slightly smiled at him. 

“You may.” 

“Grigor Dymov.” He bowed as I was going to play along. 

“Duchess Chiara of Trento.” Holding out my hand for him to place a kiss on it. 

A quite refreshing restart. 

Taglist

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[enthusiasticsobrietyabuse]

Parent Manipulation Part 2 - Originally posted in 2005 OnTheEmmis.com, a Meehan Program Survivor Website and Discussion Forum. (ICECAP is the former incorporation of enthusiastic sobriety programs, it has since dissolved due to the effectiveness of OnTheEmmis.com)

So what’s the harm?

Well, it’s a dishonest way to make a living, for starters, and that is the very least of the harm done to people.

Let’s start by looking at the staff.

ICECAP has several lines for the skeptic who attempts to question the professionalism and integrity of their general staff.

“I may not be a doctor, but I’ve had my face in the ground long enough to know what the dirt looks like” is the sort of catch-phrase one may encounter when asking about ICECAP staff qualifications. The idea is one borrowed from Alcoholics Anonymous, that only a drunk can help another drunk. AA has been widely successful in rehabilitating alcoholics based on this principal, in which the catalyst is that one’s experiences lends him/her the ability to identify with the ‘alcoholic who still suffers’.

Further, the staff of ICECAP claims to function therapeutically from the platform of Alcoholics Anonymous principals and spiritual conditioning. The reason for all of this is so the ICECAP staff and methodology has a credible ‘foundation’ to justify its hiring and facilitation of non professional counselors. In short, AA is a household name, and is widely recognized as something that works. ICECAP uses this fact as a springboard for its operations.

The big problem with that idea is that ICECAP programs are not in any way similar to, affiliated with, kind of like, or even remotely in any way like AA. Alcoholics Anonymous is a non-profit self-help environment which has many safeguards cemented into its foundations that prevent any sort of ‘ego’ or for-profit interests from plaguing its members. Specifically, what AA refers to as ‘The Twelve Traditions’ are rigidly adhered to and aggressively enforced as guidelines to keep the AA name from anything that would divert the program from its primary purpose. The only similarity between ICECAP and AA is that they both have their members often form in a circle at the beginning and at the end of their meetings. Beyond that the two are apples and oranges.

Anyone who spends more than six months in both programs can easily see the canyon of differences that separate the two programs. The truth is, ICECAP drops the name of AA when it is convenient for them to do so, and rarely if ever gives the program any real credence.

“We are not AA, we are not trying to be AA, and we don’t play by the same rules as AA” (-direct quote- Michael C. Stonebraker, director and board member of ICECAP).

Ask ANY graduate from ICECAP, and they will tell you that a common dilemma that nearly every graduate experiences after leaving ICECAP and moving on to AA is that they are troubled with the inherent differences between the two groups philosophy’s for recovery. After years of ICECAP meetings, they are confronted with having to adjust to an entirely different program. In fact, most would say you are not off the mark if you suggested that it would have made just as much sense for them to graduate ICECAP into a monastery, or a school for lion tamers; instead of AA. They all have about the same in common: nothing.

Shouldn’t a program that claims to operate out of AA’s principals lend an easier transition to its clients from its rooms to AA itself?

I am painting this picture to illustrate that there is really nothing holding much water in ICECAP’s claim that its staff has credibility to function with kids from ideas that it ‘borrows’ from AA. To whatever extent a particular staff member of ICECAP attends or postures themselves as AA members, they do not deliver the principals of AA in a therapeutic manner to their clientele.

So what does that leave them with? Not much. The average ICECAP counselor is a high school drop out with no college or accredited training whatsoever. If asked for their credentials, they will respond with an array of phrases and ideas, all of which are meant to lead one away from any real answer. They will suggest with confidence and bravado that since they ‘come from the same place’ as their clients, they have an ‘edge’ in dealing with them the rest of the ‘professional’ community doesn’t. All of this can be very convincing to a parent, especially since their child seems to have taken so well to the given staff member. Again, this is ICECAP using the ‘unorthodox is better’ angle to begin the process of manipulation.

If long hair, dated language, concert t-shirts, a pretty face and a proletarian understanding of AA principals were all it took to rehabilitate a drug addict, then the world would be free of drug addiction tomorrow. The problem is that that is pretty much the only thing the average ICECAP counselor has going for him/her in terms of professionalism. They are funny and good looking. They know how to say ‘dude’ without looking like an old nerd. Kids love them and worship them. But they are INEPT AT ASSISTING THEM TO RECOVER FROM REAL DRUG ADDICTION!

So what then, does the average ICECAP counselor provide for a kid, if not sound professional guidance into the world of recovery?

Here are some of my observations on ICECAP provisions:

Kids in ICECAP are subjected to enormous pressure to take on the identity of a ‘dope fiend’. The ‘dope fiend’ model is constantly being illustrated to newcomers by staff and group members. It begins with traits that a lot of teens possess…rebellious action/ideation, foul language, ‘shock value’ expressionism, etc. But the irresponsible thing that ICECAP does with kids is that it sets them up to feel inadequate if they do not measure up to the complete profile of ICECAP’s ‘dope fiend’. The reason that this is such a bad idea is because the majority of ICECAP clientele are NOT ‘dope fiends’. If your kid is in ICECAP for any period of time, you will see a mental, physical and emotional change in them. Most parents (especially the ones who have invested thousands of dollars into this) view this as a good thing. If the changes in the child were not for the worst, I would agree with them. However, these changes include almost invariably the following:

Separation from school/education/career

Increased use of tobacco. Non-smokers will be encouraged to take up smoking (bizarre, but true).

The decline of a coherent or educated vocabulary. This is no joke. There is a rigid ‘dummied up’ dialect spoken by every member of ICECAP.

The encouragement of illegal behavior (curfew violations, trespassing, vandalism, underage smoking, etc.).

Limited exposure to outside influences. Music, films, books, clothes, sources of education, hairstyles, jewelry, where you get a cup of coffee, tattoos, leisure activities and more are all mandated by ICECAP doctrine.

Maladjusted/confused sexual behavior (more on this later)

One dimensional thinking/ apparent inability or unwillingness to think diversely or with any complexity.

Extremely narrow elements of thoughts applied to a very wide range of ‘life factors’, or; every problem life presents seems to have the same two or three things as an answer/rationale.

Constant fear of being ‘fucked up’, or ‘spiritually bankrupt’. ‘Negative’ actions by other people are consistently the result of these things.

Inconsistent/erratic emotional responses to seemingly normal situations.

Why would a kid willingly subject themselves to this?

The hook for teens is fairly obvious: Their parents leave them alone, they no longer have to go to school, they are allowed to smoke cigarettes, swear, and die their hair indigo blue if they want to, and there is usually a large enough pool of attractive peers to make the whole idea of ICECAP treatment not sound so bad.

Ask any current group member, and they will tell you that they do not feel controlled…that it is their choice to attend ICECAP. They will defend their positions with feverish resolve. They will claim moral high ground and a better way of life as what motivates them to ‘keep coming back’. Tell them that they are brainwashed, and they will respond by saying ‘well, maybe my brain could use a little washing…considering how sick I was’. Tell them they live their life in a ‘bubble’, and they will respond by saying ‘if this is a bubble, than I’m glad I’m in it…compared to the sick world I was a part of before!’

Two things are happening here: First, the child is offered nearly unlimited freedom, which in most cases is like a dream come true to them. What fifteen year old would turn that down? Second, instead of providing competent therapy or treatment, each kid is given this ‘dope fiend’ model, and as long as they adhere to this model, than they are ‘ok’. Everything that made Johnny ‘Johnny’ will be whittled away as he progresses through the ranks of ICECAP. He will attribute the changes to ‘getting rid of old behavior’, or ‘changing old tapes’, when in fact he is being herded and molded in a way that only a program facilitated by foolish, irresponsible amateurs can handle.

The sickest thing about this to me is the way they are manipulated by ICECAP into such devotion. The adolescent is such an impressionable creature, and everything that can possibly be used to woo them is carefully applied by ICECAP.

In Bob Meehan’s book, ‘Beyond the Yellow Brick Road’, there is a chapter called ‘The Teenage Psyche’. This is another decent chapter in this book. I’d encourage anyone to read it, because it perfectly illustrates what I am saying. If there is one thing that Meehan certainly has his finger on the pulse of, it’s what will attract a teenager. The ‘dope fiend’ model in which Meehan’s programs are forced to operate out of because of their gross lack of sound professional tools combined with the fact that ICECAP targets kids who are NOT ‘dope fiends’ creates a crippling environment for teenagers who would have otherwise just gone on with life.

Why would Meehan build his programs on such weak foundations professionally? To me that’s simple: Cheap labor. It’s not so hard morally to build a staff out of a bunch of negligent weirdoes like Mike Weiland, when your real aim has nothing to do with helping kids in the first place.

I believe that Bob Meehan has had two objectives from the very beginning. One was to satisfy his enormous ego, which he had never been able to accomplish prior to these programs. More importantly and certainly more dangerously, he wants money. It is no coincidence that every single person on the ICECAP payroll has been farmed from the group. These kids spend years trying to live up to those they believe (because they are told) are the most spiritually evolved humans on the planet (staff), and then picked to become the next generation of over-worked, under-paid servants of Bob Meehan’s empire.

Who pays the price? You, and more importantly…your kid.

And what of the rare occasion that a true addict walks through the doors of ICECAP?

It’s even worse for them. Many of them die.

[ventivante]

Part One summary | can be found here! genre | jennifer’s body!au, college!au, horror, supernatural, humor, angst, demon!wooyoung; wooyoung x reader, mingi x reader warnings | language, discussions of death, some blatant blasphemy, and very bad/cliche humor word count | 2.1k

DISCLAIMER: this fic contains lots of dark subject matter and i will put any specific trigger warnings before each part. i do not condone the unhealthy relationships portrayed in this fic, nor do i believe the characters’ real life counterparts to display these behaviors.

happy halloween y’all!

“God, just shoot me in the face,” Wooyoung whined aloud, leaning his head back to emphasize just how unhappy he was with studying.

“Stop, you’re gonna get us kicked out again,” you whispered across the table at him.

“Good! I hate this place anyway, it reeks of decaying dreams and B.O.,” Wooyoung announced dramatically, his voice still at full volume.

Against your better judgement, you’d invited Wooyoung to study with you at the library. It was against your better judgement for two reasons: first, because Wooyoung didn’t function well in environments where you needed to be quiet and you were both already on the librarian’s shit list, and second, because you felt like you owed it to him after ignoring him all weekend.

Another unspoken reason you weren’t ready to admit was that Wooyoung had been acting . . . weird over the past few days. Even weirder than he normally was. For starters, he had dyed his hair—gone were the black locks you had grown up alongside, now replaced by sandy blond, perfectly gelled movie-star hair. His response to being asked why he’d changed it?

I got bored, he had told you, as if it were the simplest question in the world.

Of course, you knew that abrupt hairstyle changes usually took place in the midst of an emotional crisis, but you hadn’t pressed the issue further. If Wooyoung wanted to talk about things that were bothering him, he eventually would on his own terms—you had learned that the hard way.

Not only had he changed his hair, but he had started dressing really different as well. Normally Wooyoung opted for comfortable sweaters and hoodies, with some standard t-shirt-and-jeans ensembles thrown in the mix. Now he dressed as if his daily commute was on a Harley Davidson motorcycle. You didn’t know where his sudden sense of style had come from, but you guessed it may have had something to do with the aftermath of the party yet again.

Despite all of the red flags, you wanted to find out just what had caused the sudden changes, and you felt partially guilty that you had been the source of it. You figured if you spent more time with him, he would open up to you and finally forgive you.

“Come on, let’s get out of here and grab some sushi, I’m staaarved,” Wooyoung pouted as he rested his head on a propped fist, eyes wide and lower lip protruding in a wholly pathetic display.

Even though he had been acting strange, Wooyoung had been in very high spirits. He was constantly joking with you and laughing over the smallest things, not common indicators that Wooyoung was undergoing mental duress. His current behavior also wasn’t a surprise, as he’d always had a distaste for studying.

“Let me just finish these last couple sections,” you sighed as you flipped the page of your anatomy book.

“I can give you the short version: Adam shoves his dick into Eve’s vagina, boink boink boink, and that’s the miracle of life,” Wooyoung explained crudely, even throwing in a few vulgar gestures for added emphasis. “There, I even included curriculum for the Bible thumpers.”

You grimaced at his tactless anatomy lesson and shut your book without another word. “That’s gross and blasphemous.”

Wooyoung only shrugged before folding his hands on the table’s surface and fixing a now serious look on you. “Don’t tell me you’re still squeamish about sex, Y/N.”

“I’ve never been squeamish, I just don’t need to shout about it from the rooftops.” You hoped that the blush you were undoubtedly now sporting didn’t undermine your words.

“Oh, boo, so boring,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes and slumped back onto the table, his chin resting on his forearms.

“Hey guys.”

You jumped as someone slid into the seat next to you, scaring the daylights out of you. Your pen was raised, ready to attack your would-be assailant before you realized it was only Yunho—one of your and Wooyoung’s few mutual friends—who had made a sudden appearance.

“Can you not just drop in like that?” you asked, lowering the pen now that you were no longer in danger.

“I announced myself! Maybe you just need to have more awareness for your surroundings!” Yunho whispered shrilly.

“Shh!” A fourth person joined in, this time from the librarian desk, where the older woman was giving the three of you the evil eye as she let out a particularly firm shush. You ducked your head bashfully and gave her an apologetic wave, hoping to convey that you would keep your friends in check.

“Have you guys heard?” Yunho started again, now lowering his voice to a more library-friendly volume. “They found a dead kid in the woods out by Hongjoong’s frat house, where that huge party was this weekend.”

You straightened at the news, feeling your heart skip a beat. “What?”

“Well, not a kid kid, it was a student here,” Yunho continued. “But they found him just yesterday. They think it was some kind of animal attack—dude was ripped to shreds from what I heard.”

“Jesus,” you breathed, your stomach beginning to churn at the thought. “What kind of animal?”

“I dunno, a wolf or even a bear maybe?”

“Dumbass, there’s no bears around here,” Wooyoung chimed in, looking positively bored with the shift in conversation.

Yunho cast an offended glare on the newly-dyed blond. “Hey, it’s possible! Climate change, bitch! Animals can come crawling here from all over now, the polar bears are migrating.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “So you think this kid got mauled by a polar bear?”

“I’m just saying it’s possible.”

“Shhhhh!”

This time a student at the next table over had expressed their own irritation at the rising volume yet again. You sent them an apologetic nod of the head before turning back to your friends and lowering your voice once more. “Do we know for sure it’s an animal? Is there going to be like, an investigation or something?”

The taller boy shrugged and leaned a little closer to you to match your tone. “Cops were all over the place earlier but it’s calmed down a bit now. I think it’s officially been listed as an animal. Or, what they think it is at least. But I wouldn’t rule out the possibility that it’s some psycho killer, stalking young, vulnerable co-eds.” He grinned widely at the end of his statement, waggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated motion before poking you in the side.

You swatted his hand away and released a noise of discontent. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Yunho, why don’t you make like a tree and leave before I chop you down at the knees?” Wooyoung posed, leaning forward on the table with an acidic smile stretching over his features.

“Come on, I’m just kidding,” Yunho laughed. “I’m sure that they’ll find whatever animal it was and put it down.”

You wished you could be as lighthearted about the situation as the other two, but the news brought on a sense of dread that was seeping into your stomach like sour milk. Had it really been a random animal attack? And if so, what kind of animal could rip a person to shreds, as Yunho had not-so-delicately put it? Or worse, what if there was a murderer wandering around campus waiting for their next victim to come along? Were you actually safe?

“There’s probably nothing to worry about at this point,” Yunho added, as if he were reading your mind.

“Good to know. On that note, I think it’s time for us to leave.” Wooyoung rose from his seat and gave you a pointed look.

This time, you actually agreed with him and began to gather your things, shoving them haphazardly into your bag. Wooyoung was at your side in the next second helping you before focusing his attention back onto Yunho.

“Try not to get eaten by a polar bear on your way home, Yunho,” Wooyoung winked.

“Bite me,” the taller boy quipped, but you and Wooyoung were already on your way to the door.

Darkness was quickly approaching as you walked beside Wooyoung back to your apartment. It made you weary, especially after hearing Yunho’s news about the attack. Your best friend, however, seemed completely unfazed by the potential danger as he slung an arm over your shoulders and hummed quietly.

“You aren’t worried?” you asked him.

“Worried? About what Yunho said?” he scoffed then and only pulled you closer to him. “Definitely not. And you shouldn’t be either. You’ve got me to protect you!”

You let out an amused bark of laughter. “You? The same person who makes me kill the spiders in your room?”

“That was when we were ten!” Wooyoung whined, giving you yet another pout. “I’m a man now, in case you hadn’t noticed!”

“Please spare me the toxic masculinity spiel,” you retorted, albeit with another giggle.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you continued down the sidewalk. You allowed yourself to enjoy the moment, because it felt like it had been years since you were both this close—not just physically, but also on an emotional level. You took a second to glance up at your longtime best friend and study him.

Wooyoung’s skin glowed in the waning rays of sunlight, blemish free and smooth as fine porcelain. His nose was a little large, something he had always been concerned with, but you saw absolutely nothing wrong with it. Even his dark eyes shone brightly as the day faded into dusk. And if you weren’t mistaken, you could have sworn he had been hitting the gym too—the arm wrapped around you was firm and not as wiry as you remembered it being during childhood.

You hadn’t admitted it to him, but he had grown up to be very handsome, and sometimes you found yourself wondering how things would be if the two of you had been more than just friends. It had always been a passing thought before, but now as he held you against his side and you looked up at him, the thought didn’t seem . . . particularly bad.

Just as you were rounding the last corner before your building came into view, you decided to ask Wooyoung what you had been meaning to for the past few days.

“Wooyoung, you’re not mad at me, are you? About the party, I mean.”

There was a short pause and you felt Wooyoung’s hand squeeze your arm gently, just as your phone chirped from your pocket. Automatically, you reached for it, digging it out and bringing the device up to check the notification.

It was a text message from an unfamiliar number, which made you squint in confusion. A split second later, realization dawned on you and you let out a small gasp.

It had to be Mingi, the boy you had met at the party.

You smiled at the thought then quickly remembered you had been waiting on Wooyoung to answer your question. You glanced back up at him and saw that he was eyeing your phone with a furrowed brow. His arm now felt tense and heavy around your shoulders but his voice was still light when he spoke again.

“Your friend from the party?”

“Oh, yeah, I think so. I’ll text him later—”

Wooyoung’s arm dropped from your shoulders and he took a step away from you, creating distance that might as well have been a brick wall between you two. He stared down at his feet for a few moments then lifted his head and smiled weakly. You noticed that the smile failed to reach his eyes.

“Listen, Y/N—forget about what happened at the party. I told you, it wasn’t a big deal and I’m over it. I’ll catch you later, okay?”

Wooyoung started to turn away, shoving his hands into his pockets as he went. You felt your small window of opportunity slipping away, so you reached out for him, latching onto his jacket.

“Wait! Don’t you wanna come up and watch a movie or something?” you asked, eyes wide with an unspoken plea.

Wooyoung peeked over his shoulder at you while his lips curled into a lopsided smirk. “Maybe some other time. I’ve got dinner plans.”