#telling scary stories by the camp cheeto

[shepherdofthecorn]

My idiots are having an idiotic halloween

[greekgrad07]

i blame @deepestempathllamalawyer and @zitzboy for this but this post got me thinking about malconnor and now i can’t stop i’m sorry

malconnor headcanons

they had always been friendly with each other bc of connor and annabeth but nothing worth calling an actual friendship

they never really talked unless annabeth was around until one day after the battle of manhattan

so connor had a bunch of summer assignments he has put off for the last minute bc a.) there was a fucking war going on and b.) procrastination is a curse

he went to the athena cabin hoping to find annabeth for some help but when he got there the only athena kid in sight was malcolm (annabeth was out with her new boyfriend percy alhdkjdk)

so it would be awkward at first but basically it would go something like this

“hey, annabeth isn’t here.” “oh sorry, i was just gonna ask her about some homework, i’ll come back later i guess haha.” and like right as he turns around connor hears malcolm say, “i mean, i could help you, if you want. annabeth isn’t the only smart kid in this cabin, you know?”

and connor is FLUSTERED bc 1.) him and malcolm have barely said three words to each other alone before and now he’s offering to spend gods know how long trying to explain algebra to him, 2.) he’s pretty sure he’s just offended him and if there is one thing connor knows, it’s that you should never, ever, make a child of athena think you doubt their intelligence, and 3.) well, actually, he ain’t sure what else is making him nervous

so after that it gets to the point where connor starts to seek malcolm out for help on all of his assignments, and once they are done with that, connor starts to look for new ways to spend time with him

this boy has no idea how to make friends without pranking them but for some reason connor can’t talk himself into doing anything that may embarrass or hurt malcolm (he tells himself that it’s probably bc he feels indebted to him but...)

not to mention the last child of athena he became friends with was basically desperate for attention at the time, it was easier back then. but malcolm is new territory, and just like annabeth, most of her siblings are intimidating.

obviously he knows that malcolm is willing to help him so connor decides that the best way to insinuate friendship is by making a mountain out of anthill problems just to ask for the son of athena’s help

and this works. malcolm was willing to help connor with almost all of his minor inconveniences.

one time, connor “dropped” his lucky ring during a volleyball match. thankfully, malcolm just so happened to be there

“mal! hey sorry, but my ring fell off during the tournament. i think it’s in the sand somewhere, do you care to help me find it before your cabin starts the next game?”

it was a while before malcolm found the ring. the ring that just appeared out of nowhere at his feet after about thirty minutes of searching, cracking jokes, and avoiding the gaze of the demeter cabin glaring at the two boys to hurry up.

(needless to say, the ring was in connors pocket the whole time)

another time was when connor snuck out of camp with travis to go to the 7/11 down the street and couldn’t decide which snacks to get for the bonfire that night

this resulted in the first of many iris messages to malcolm

“flaming hot cheetos or takis?” “why not both?” “you’re after my own heart, pace.”

connor did not see the other boy blushing at his words (and he did not spend the rest of the night overthinking about that sentence thank you very much)

travis did end up teasing his little brother about it though

“what’s with you and children of athena?” “dude what are you talking about?”

but the best incident was when one of connors problems involved annabeth- or rather, finding annabeth. and he didn’t even have to make that one up

he and annabeth were supposed to train that day, but she was late. normally he would be worried, but a part of him was glad that he had an excuse to go talk to malcolm.

turns out, he didn’t have to.

right as he walked up to the cabin, the boy in question opened the door.

the two bumped into each other and connor wasn’t sure why his face started heating up or why malcolm was looking anywhere but his face.

the blonde boy stuttered out how he was just on his way to the arena to meet him.

“wait what? i just came here to ask you about annabeth.” malcolm’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink and connor doesn’t know why he finds that so endearing, “percy planned a surprise picnic for the two of them, so i offered to spar with you in her place so she wouldn’t feel bad.”

when i say this boy was blushing-

so they spar together and then decide, hey why not hang out for the rest of the day?

and oh boy when the day came that malcolm started coming to connor for help

let’s just say that he was beaming

not to mention it was something that connor was more than happy to help with

apparently some kids of hephaestus were being dicks to one of the younger athena kids and malcolm was pissed, so he asked connor for some pranking tips

they ended up sneaking into the cabin, sabotaging the campers newest projects, and covering all of their tools with honey and feathers

after spending all night hearing malcolm’s laugh and seeing his pale blonde hair in the moonlight as he dropped him off at the athena cabin, connor was sure that friendship wasn’t all he wanted with the boy now

one day, while connor was trying to think of a new excuse to talk to malcolm, the boy walked up to him and asked if he wanted to pick strawberries with him

“yes! i mean- yeah, yeah sound fun”

the two spent the day at the strawberry field picking -eating- strawberries while they talked and laughed with each other

at some point during the evening, connor started retelling a story about him and annabeth from their youth at camp. it involved a prank against clarrise and some glue, and it had both boys cackling by the end of it

then malcolm said “i’m sorry that you got stuck with a walmart annabeth that day, but i’m kind of glad that my sister wasn’t in the cabin when you were looking for help with your school work. i’m not great with getting to know people but i liked how easy it was with you.”

connor would have taken the compliment in stride if it weren’t for malcolms first comment “what do you mean walmart annabeth?”

the boys stopped and looked back at connor “just that, i know you and annabeth are really close, and she’s been busy recently. i understand that you would want to hangout with someone who reminds you of her. i’m okay with it, really. i like spending time with you.”

connor felt his heart simultaneously swell and break at the same time. not once had connor thought of malcolm as an annabeth replacement, nor would he ever. the two children of athena were similar yes, but a lot of siblings are, it doesn’t mean they are the same, and connor definitely never associated them as being such. so he told him that

“i like spending time with you, too. you as in malcolm pace, not an annabeth replacement. i’ve never seen you like that and i never would. plus, you’re not walmart anything, you’re full channel baby. children of hermes only steal the best of the best.”

“what exactly would you be stealing?”

connor just smiled and grabbed the boys hand.

that night, connor stoll made a list including all the things he liked about malcolm pace. he made sure to add the things he liked that he knew differentiated the boy from annabeth as well

some things on the list include how his hair was a more pale blonde compared to his other siblings. connor liked how it certain lights it looked white.

the fact that he was the same height as connor, which made it easier to look him in the eyes

his eyes which were a dark grey and could be considered scary if it weren’t for the gleam they always wore

the way that he always blushed when romantics were involved, no matter how innocent

or how loud he laughed at a joke that he found funny, despite how he tried to muffle it into the collar of his shirt

connor likes how willing malcolm is to help people and how brilliant he is

he likes that malcolm tries to follow the rules but still knows how to have fun and let loose

connor stoll likes malcolm pace

but it’s even better when annabeth finds out

“you and my brother?!”

“you liked luke for who knows how long, i don’t wanna hear it chase!”

[clvrissa]

[ ODEYA RUSH. CIS FEMALE. SHE/HER. ] [ ƈʟǟʀɨֆֆǟ "ʀɨֆֆǟ" ƈօաɛռ ] is a [ TWENTY-ONE ] year old [ FIRST AID ] at camp reviere. [ SHE ] makes me think of [ hand stitched skirts, tarot cards shuffled but never dealt, silence ringing in your ears ]. their favorite horror movie is [ THE EVIL DEAD ] and they remind me of [ ֆǟʀǟɦ ɮǟɨʟɛʏ ]. [ ally. 22. est. she/her. ]

what’s up, y’all ???? my name is ally, i have a love/hate relationship with horror, i simp for bailey sarian, i’m extremely inconsistent with the Aesthetic, and i’m here with my fucked-up daughter, rissa !!! her inspo is, ofc, sarah bailey, but instead of magic it’s psychometry. cool? cool. details are below, and yes, this is a novel, but there’s tl;drs.

ֆȶǟȶɨֆȶɨƈֆ.

full name. clarissa genevieve cowen  nickname(s). rissa. she hates clarissa.  occupation. first aid at camp reverie, nursing student  age. twenty-one.  date of birth. january 27, 1963 nationality. american. ethnicity. ashkenazi jewish.  orientation. lesbian. gender & pronouns. cis female, she/her.

height. 5′8″.  weight. 150 lbs. eye color. grey-blue.  hair color + style. dark brown, curly, usually messy. she tries to braid it and keep it back but it always tends to get free.  distinguishing features. those spooky eyes, her homemade baggy clothes, deep and deadpan voice, 

ɮɨօɢʀǟքɦʏ.

born to a mechanic and the town psychic in louisiana in 1963, rissa was kind of destined to be an outcast. or, so she thought; her brother, chaplin, never had too much trouble fitting in.

she was more visibly the psychic’s daughter, though. not only bc she has wild hair, piercing eyes, and is terribly shy. from a young age, her mom used her as a prop during readings, the creepy little girl in the corner of the room. apparently chaplin couldn’t stay still long enough to be spooky :////

that was, until rissa helped one of her mom’s clients clean up her spilled purse, and she touched an old compact mirror. suddenly, she saw what it had seen, and blurted out that this was her mother’s old mirror, that she’d bought it in london and that it had seen war. 

so, her mother asked her to take part in the readings, sometimes. if there was an important object, she’d give it to rissa to evaluate. even if there wasn’t, she’d still put the client’s purse, coat, whatever next to rissa, in case she picked anything up. 

sometimes rissa couldn’t get anything, so she made things up. sometimes she sensed something, and sometimes, too often, she sensed something too awful to even keep the object in her hands. at least once a month, rissa saw something bad enough that she’d run to the attic and hide until her brother came to get her out. you can fill in the blanks there. 

it was when she was ten that her teacher told her there was always a scientific explanation for things, and that magic wasn’t real. she clung to that, and asked to read about seeing things. her teacher told her to find the dsm ii in the public library. what she found... made sense but was almost worse than magic. since then, she’s been convinced she’s sick, and she’s making all the things she saw up in her head. 

she also researched treatments, and that made her want to keep her mouth shut even more. 

she started to avoid readings as much as she could. her mother told her she was wasting her gift. rissa insisted it wasn’t a gift, it was an illness. a disease. 

uhhhhhhhh went full goth in high school. collected bones and hung out with the weird kids and smoked weed while listening to joy division in the woods. she didn’t like to touch people, she felt fucked up, and they were all okay with that. her best friend used to read lovecraft to her when she got high and rissa realized she was in love. she swallowed it down like she swallowed everything else down. 

she spent the last few months of high school living with her father, since her mother didn’t want her to go to nursing school. her brother helped her leave home, and now she’s a nursing student at a community college. 

tl;dr the psychic’s daughter has psychometry, sees some fucked up shit, suppresses her powers and convinces herself she’s having hallucinations, becomes a goth lesbian nursing student, 

քɛʀֆօռǟʟɨȶʏ.

let’s get one thing straight: rissa doesn’t have a fucking clue who she is. she sees herself as something of a shattered mirror; trying to imitate what she thinks people want to see, but too dangerous to touch, to really know. she’s constantly recreating her identity as a result, as some kind of illusion. if she’s mysterious, nobody can tell when something is wrong. 

she makes almost all her own clothes out of like. patchworks of other clothes. this is partially because she’s poor and partially because she likes things that are her own. and also definitely because she can’t find light enough clothing to provide her with the preferred amount of coverage in the summer without being too hot. 

yeah, she wears full length skirts made out of tshirts and old lady cotton cardigans every day, so that she can’t accidentally brush up against anyone and activate her psychometry. also because she hates being known in any capacity. they’re patchwork. she looks like a bag lady. 

she is still a very shy person, but she pretends to be cold and kind of mean instead. if she likes you, though, she’s just sarcastic and trying really hard to be funny. 

Big Lesbian. Huge. 

doesn’t want to be Known. if you’ve known her for longer than a year she’s been like five different people. whenever she feels like she’s falling into a pattern, she does something she thinks no one will expect. her motivation is as flakey as the fucking wind. 

in truth she’s incredibly sensitive and takes everything personally because her self-esteem is like. below rock bottom. 

still has nightmares about what she’s seen with her abilities, though she’s blocked a lot of it out during her day-to-day. if you’ve seen her have a nightmare, she’ll pretend it never happened. 

for some reason, she loves old people. maybe it’s because she can tell if they like her or not from the moment she meets them, and as a result, she doesn’t really care what they think. but also... she loves stories. 

probably has a lovecraft book with her at all times. still very much a goth. 

big Daria vibes. 

collects animal bones. she found a deer skull when she was a kid and all she felt when she touched it was peace. she slept with it like a teddy bear. even though she’s since suppressed her psychometry, she still finds animal bones to be somewhat soothing. 

at parties, the type of person to steal a bottle of vodka and a bag of cheetos and hiding in the bathtub to get turnt. that’s living the good life. if you need to pee, sucks, she’s not moving. 

anyways have some tik toks 

(body image tw) big mood

her last two brain cells trying to destroy her psychometry 

instead of spongebob quotes its joy division lyrics 

աǟռȶɛɖ ƈօռռɛƈȶɨօռֆ.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖙. an opposites attract kind of thing. her camp bestie that is very much on the straight and narrow while she tends to wanna go. all over the place. she definitely calls them a nerd daily. 

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖔𝖑. someone whose leg she likes to pull, who she’ll regale with scary stories, whether they want her to or not. 

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘. a girl rissa has a major crush on. not like she’ll ever say it out loud. 

𝖏𝖚𝖉𝖌𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙. a good influence of sorts. someone who curtails some of rissa’s more chaotic tendencies and sees the potential she has. someone who rissa actually feels a responsibility to.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑. opposite of judgement. someone who brings out the worst, most chaotic and painful and hurtful parts of her. 

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘. someone who understands her trauma, to some extent. they connect on that deep level, even if they don’t connect on the surface. 

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖙. she someone she can get weird with yk. probably smokes weed with her and knows a little too much about her for comfort. 

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖔𝖗. authority for her to rebel against. 

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗. someone with a fucked up past that triggers her psychometry like nothing else. maybe she brushed against them on the first day of camp and almost passed out. she avoids them like the plague. 

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓. their optimism fucking kills her. she wants so badly to be mean to them but can never bring herself to. makes her want to be kind. 

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓. is fascinated by her past life as a psychic prop and thinks she’s So Cool. rissa is probably crueler to them than anyone else, because she doesn’t want to think about that time in her life. 

[itsclydebitches]

Kind of an odd request probably but I like the way you write. A lot. The voices of the characters are so believable. There's a song called "Weeds or Wildflowers" by Parsonfields I think suits Cass and Jesse. Give it a listen and see if you write anything inspired by it? It's cool if not. 💜 I'll always keep reading.

Summary: As kids Jesse and Tulip find something living out in the woods. It calls itself Cassidy. It likes blood and cheap candy. Jesse wants to take it home with him.

Fandom: Preacher

Words: 2,762

Warnings: Blood, feeding 

Pairings: Kid fic so no real pairings, but hinted Jesse/Cass 

Where to Read it: Below the cut or on AO3 (AO3 highly recommended for formatting) 

Erode From Day to Day 

They were so close; so very close to freedom. All the tiny feet clad in sneakers were poised like runners beneath their desks. Arms were straining, hands gripped tight to the edge of their seats, and not a single eye dared to stray from the clock. The only movement was the sneaky packing going on, slow as molasses—impatience lengthening those last five seconds as Mr. Rogan’s eyes narrowed.

“Hey, squirts, hey,” he said. “Settle down now. It’s not the weekend just yet—”

The bell made a liar out of him. The normally shrill annoyance might as well have been a call to arms given how quickly everyone was up and out the door. Mr. Rogan tried valiantly to remind them of the math homework due Monday, problems one through fifteen, but it mostly fell on deaf ears. There was a mob making for the bright, sunny afternoon and nothing could stop them.

Especially not with Jesse Custer leading the charge.

“Swing set!” he called and half the class cheered in response. The others had already turned towards the main doors, looking for parents and guardians to take them home, but Jesse’s group made a sharp right, pushing out onto the playground and flying over the wood-chips. They held tight to their backpack straps, bodies bent in an attempt to gain speed. They were sweaty, multi-colored blurs under the 3:00pm sun.

Past the jungle gym and around the sandbox. The swing set was in sight now—Jesse could nearly feel the hot metal under his palm—when, suddenly, a darker hand came out of nowhere to slap it first.

“Fucking O’Hare,” a kid said in a rare display of true cursing. Everyone collapsed as one, hands on their knees as they tried to get their breath back.

Tulip stood tall though. Her hand was already out and demanding the usual fare. Slowly, the other kids began pulling candy and knick-knacks out of their bags, handing them over. Grudgingly.

“You were closest to the door,” Simon grumbled, knowing the complaint wouldn’t do him any good. Tulip just shrugged.

“And I was all the way in the back last week in Ms. Julie’s class and I still won then. Not my fault all you idiots are so slow.” She wiggled her fingers. Simon deposited a half eaten Milky Way in her palm. “Thank you,” and with a vicious kick Tulip sent up a cloud of dust that had everyone else running, cutting across the playground to the cul-de-sac where parents were waiting to yell at them for being late.

Jesse scowled, threading a hand through the back of his hair. “You always win.”

“Turtle,” Tulip said, poking him in the chest. She started jogging in place. “Cheetah.”

“Yeah well c’mon, wasn’t there something about slow and steady?”

Jesse bent on one knee to pick up all the stuff Tulip was starting to drop. He nearly fell backwards when she bent too and just shoved it all into his arms.

“You can have it,” she said. “I’ve still got all that loot from Maya’s birthday party and besides, aren’t you going to see Him?”

Tulip said Him will all the gravity that a middle schooler could imbue in a word. It was grandiose and inexplicable, like all the years’ snow days rolled into one. Or winning relay day for your whole grade.  Or even finding that shiny, glimmering rock outside and just knowing it was treasure. It was all those things and more, smushed together and made into a person. Something like a person, anyway.

Jesse wouldn’t even think to disagree.

And he could see how Tulip’s hands shook as she re-wrapped the packet of Twizzlers. She wanted to go so badly.

“You went yesterday,” Jesse reminded her.

“I know.”

For a brief moment she bit her lip and Jesse realized, instinctually, that she was thinking about similarities between the three of them: dead parents, dead mom... dead existence. They didn’t really know how to deal with any of that. But they were kids, so they dealt anyway.

“I’ll tell your dad you had to stay behind and clean the chalkboards again, k?”

“K,” Jesse said and they shook on it, three slaps that ended in them linking fingers, pushing and pulling a bit before finishing with a fist-bump. They hauled themselves to their feet and Jesse crammed everything into his backpack.

“Careful,” Tulip said, already jogging away.

Jesse just flapped a hand at her back. “Never!”

She threw out a messy thumbs up. Always needed to have the last word.

Hauling himself in the opposite direction Jesse took off at a run, knowing that he only had so much time when he could be ‘cleaning chalkboards’ before Dad got suspicious. He took only a moment to make sure none of the teachers were sneaking out the back before jumping the small fence surrounding the playground. He landed in the soft dirt of a graveyard.

It wasn’t common, but sometimes people moved to Annville and when they did they had kids to put into the only school—and when they did that the parents inevitably balked at their angels playing next to the dead. Jesse had always liked it though: watching the tombstones crumble and the weeds grow taller each and every year, reading the strange first names attached to the surnames he’d grown up with; digging for bones, risking both the teachers' ire and some sort of ancient curse for disturbing the dead.

Except Jesse never thought of that as a bad thing. If he was dead he’d want someone to disturb him. Wasn’t that more exciting?

"Did you crawl out of the graveyard?"

"What graveyard?"

"The one back there. At the school."

"Nu uh, padre. Never been buried."

"...do you want to be?"

"Why the hell would I want that?"

"You’re dead aren’t you?"

“…am I?”

Jesse drew his hand over the last headstone for something like luck, plunging into the tree-line. It was the only ‘forest’ that he’d ever seen, but he knew it was paltry compared to other parts of the world, the desert encroaching even here and leaving patches of dry, dusty earth amongst the trees. There was enough brush to darken the sky though—hide things that needed hiding—and it took Jesse long, precious minutes to find the path again, finally distinguishable by the empty bag of Cheetos he’d brought last time. With that familiar route under his feet he made good time. He broke into a grin when he found the log.

“Cass,” he whispered, and an ethereal head popped out from the rotten wood.

It had startled Jesse the first time he’d seen it, that pale, bedraggled face; hair matted every which way with mud and leaves. It was something straight out of the B horror movies he and Tulip had snuck into last summer, telling his Dad that they were at the school’s kiddie camp, the kiddie camp that they were helping Dad with the church, and the lazy teenager managing the ticket booth that they’d just forgotten Tulip’s sweater from the previous film. No one ever bothered to check any of those stories.

The movies gave him nightmares, but of course Jesse never told. A month ago he had gone exploring, half to tell himself that there was nothing out there in the woods to scare him... and he'd been proven really, really wrong.

He’d wet himself a little, the first time he’d seen that face.

Now the face was just Cass. He clamored out of the hollow trunk, jeans stiff with grime and a once white shirt long gone grey. For a moment they just stood and stared at one another. Then Cass lifted his head and sniffed the wind like a dog.

“Hiya, Padre,” he said. He didn't blink.

“I’m not a ‘padre’ yet,” Jesse grumbled and began obediently rolling up the sleeve of his shirt. He’d learned quick that it was always better after this. Whatever parts of Cass were scary tended to leave after he’d fed. He was more Cass like... and for that Jesse was willing to pretend that the feeding wasn’t scary all on its own.

Still, he gave an involuntary cry when Cass materialized before him, seeming to move from There to Here with nothing more than a faded blur. Cass did that a lot. Jesse might have thought he was a ghost if he didn’t know better. But oh, he really did.

“Here,” Jesse said, extending his bare arm. Needing no further encouragement Cass latched on, biting deep into the tissue and hovering there, sucking in quick, jerky gulps. Jesse stared open-mouthed at the display. It hurt of course—fuck how it hurt—but this time, like every time, the pain was overshadowed by watching Cass move like a machine; like some horrible puppet twitching on a Master’s strings. It was only when he’d gotten a good number of mouthfuls down that his swaying grew natural, more human-like, and something similar to a blush crawled up into his cheeks. His animal chittering gave way to the happy hums of a kid just being a kid as he enjoyed dessert—and still Jesse stared.

“You’re hurting me!” he shrieked, the thing pinning him to the ground and taking directly from his neck. Jesse got a knee up into his groin—which did absolutely nothing—and grabbed for a loose branch instead, knocking the thing off his chest and into the weeds. It sprawled there, raving and wild until Jesse managed to raise the crucifix he wore around his neck.

A switch flipped. The monster blinked. It smiled.

"...do you really think that's gonna do somethin'?"  

Jesse wouldn’t truly feel the pain until he was back home hours later, with his sleeve pulled down low and lies slipping through his teeth about where he’d been.

Except... this night he wouldn’t be lying. At least he hoped not. Jesse hadn’t told Tulip, but he wanted to bring Cass home with him today. Wanted to grab this strange, frightening thing and drag him straight to their church, praying only that he wouldn’t light up in flames along the way. Jesse would hide Cass beneath his bed every night and whisper any bad dreams he had. He'd sleep easier knowing that at least one monster there was his friend.

“There are Twizzlers too,” he said, like this was any sort of normal conversation. For them it kind of was. Cass finished up with a saner look in his eye, careful to lick away the stray runs of blood curling around Jesse’s arm. They still left rusty rings though. Bracelets he was proud of. When Cass stepped back (feet bare, cold looking) Jesse immediately dumped the loot out between them.

Kit-Kat, Twizzlers, the half eaten Milky Way, and a crushed bag of chips from lunch. There was an equally smashed paper airplane and a yo-yo with a fraying string. Cass poked at it, watching it roll lopsided through the dirt.

“We used to have these too,” he said and Jesse—

“Where are you from?”

Cass stared and grinned until Jesse got it.

“When are you from?”

“When is this?”

“2017.”

He let out a whistle as high and eerie as the wind through a keyhole. “Then I’m old, padre. I’ve got 120 years on you.”

Jesse wondered then how he’d done the math that fast. Jesse needed to know if that was true. Jesse had conflicting thoughts that Cass was both young and old and Jesse—

—knew better than to ask.

“You can have it all,” he said, feeling like those words somehow meant more, as if he hadn’t already brought a fool’s worth of treasure for Cass to play with. It was all piled up in that rotten log, the only things that felt real and tangible around her. Cass himself was sort of smudgy around the edges, like a picture someone got sick of drawing halfway through.

He worked methodically through the offerings though. Because wasn’t that what they were? Jesse had wandered into these woods and found something immense there... and he’d been offering up tributes ever since. Cass fiddled with the yo-yo a little more. He placed the paper airplane in one of the few strands of sunlight that broke through their canopy, inching it there with all the delicacy of a tightrope walker. When he got to the Milky Way he crammed it all at once into his mouth, eyes suddenly blowing wide.

“That good?” Jesse asked.

Cass grinned with caramel teeth. “Yeah. Sure. But there’s blood in it too,” and his eyes went wild again, edging the tattered bite on Jesse’s arm.

And the pain was there: a sharp throb that had him tugging at his sleeve.

Because Jesse remembered what Cass was talking about. Simon had pricked his finger on a picnic table splinter today, the piece of wood going sideways and causing a tiny spout of blood. It had dripped onto his sandwich—two red drops on white bread that made all the kids shriek in disgust—and it had apparently gotten in his chocolate too.

That was what got Jesse to move; the idea of Cass tasting someone else’s blood. Not his. Not Tulip’s. Fucking Simon's.

With a growl he leaned forward and snatched the Twizzlers out of Cass’ hand, mind too wooly to appreciate the surprised, human expression that flit across his face. Settling back in the dirt Jesse pulled out his switchblade with the same jerky movements and drew it sloppily over his arm.

It hurt enough to make the backs of his teeth ache, but who the hell cared? His arm was already a bruised, bloody mess from these daily meetings, and wasn’t it worth it to see that look creeping into Cass’ eyes?

A fool might have called it hunger. Jesse knew it was something closer to love.

“Here,” he said, dipping a Twizzler into the fresh blood and tossing it casually Cass’ way. Like you’d throw a friend a beer. Like you’d scoop cheese onto those fancy crackers. What they had was no different—except that it was better—and Jesse preened a little at seeing Cass gobble him up in two quick bites.

“You’re like a dog!” Jesse howled, amazed and disgusted when Cass relieved himself too close to his boots.

He laughed crazily. “I’m more dangerous than any dog!”

“You’re insatiable,” he said, here and now, and Cass laughed again (was always laughing), his matted hair flying in front of his eyes.

“Tulip teach you that word?”

“Book did. Tulip teaches me four letter words.”

Laughter, longer and louder and Jesse tossed him more blood-coated Twizzlers. He coated all the food in a thin layer of blood until it was gone and then Jesse stood, backlit by the tree’s shadows and feeling uncommonly nervous.

“C’mon,” he said.

Because this is what they did now. He came, Cass drank, he offered things and then he left. There was some boundary between Annville and Cass’ little world that had nothing to do with tree lines or cemetery markers. He didn’t need Jesse’s blood with all the critters about—but he preferred it. He didn’t need cheap candy and toys either—but took them ravenously.

Jesse didn’t need to pull Cass over to his side of the line—but he’d do it anyway.

He held out a hand and Cass just sat there, a mangy cat licking something from the back of his arm. When he was done (tongue papery white, almost iridescent in the red of his mouth) he looked at everything but Jesse before landing his eyes on a small crop of weeds. Cass tugged two out, heedless of the thorns.

“Here,” he said, slapping them into Jesse’s palm. He left his hand there too and hauled himself up. “You gotta protect me from the sun, padre.”

“Told you I’m not a ‘padre.'" Jesse's chest was ballooning up.

“And takin’ me in? Now you probably never will be.”

Maybe it was a lie, maybe not. Either way, Jesse tugged his shirt off and drew it over Cass’ head. He give him too-big boots to protect his feet and they set off together, the half mile to the church feeling unnaturally long.

“Who are you?” Jesse whispered in the dirt, dimly aware that he wasn’t nearly as afraid as he should be.

The monster shrugged. “Cassidy. But... whaddya need me to be?”

Jesse wasn’t sure yet. Something more than this.

On their way out he brushed the bouquet of weeds over the last gravestone. For luck.

Fin.  

[finallement]

What I buy

Consumption and Materialism  Part 1      

  Normally, I am not a big consumer - I would say I’m somewhat of a snob about NOT being a big consumer. But my dependency on first-world creature comforts became a sobering realization during the power outage. It’s only when you don’t have something that you realize how much of a consumer you really are. Food, water, utilities, information sources - and most of all, the extra cognitive processing energy consumption as I scrambled to arrange for my parents’ and my basic needs during the outage. It’s not like I haven’t dealt with power outages before - I lived on the Long Island Sound and hurricanes happened - but I wasn’t taking care of elders. 

Here is what the village wharf looked like during the storm. You don’t have to watch for very long to get the idea:

https://www.facebook.com/cindy.horsfall.3/videos/pcb.10159650482658868/10206818968630318/?type=3&theater&ifg=1

 Being on the phone with Hydro-Quebec’s automated message, I couldn’t help but think of the Eubanks & Schaeffer (2008) article that refers to Laura Penny’s book, Your Call is Important to Us. It makes you want to shake them by their virtual shoulders to have to listen to an endless stream of useless information such as HQ touting their phone app for power outages (what if my phone battery is dead?) or to go online to their website (fat chance with no internet). That is, if they were even accepting calls. At one point, I had to call 911 because the powerline across the street had snapped, spiralling and sparking, into the woods, road, and neighbour’s driveway. I knew it was pointless to try calling HQ. 

  Our entire village was out of power but fortunately, our community centre has a generator so I could go there to charge my cell phone, computers, lanterns, and to cook food. There is a generator available for our home’s use but the owner of the generator was tag-teaming it around to 3 other locations and besides, it didn’t help with our heat. Simultaneously, my father had a severe attack of vertigo and was bedridden. Seeing our neighbours at the community centre was heartening in the way that a crisis can bring everyone together. Perhaps this will be the way affluenza can be tamed, by really learning first hand “the rewards that come from community involvement” (Mattison, 2012). 

My consumption journal. 

 I shop for three people.  My consumerism is mostly based on optimum healthy food choices for the parents, and also what I call ‘mood-food’ - things they like to eat that help keep their weight up. It is a fairly prosaic list. * by an item means a commentary will follow. The commentaries are to illustrate what is going on in my head as a consumer.

Oct. 26. The usual stuff. Groceries: Milk, soy milk, tofu, ham, BBQ chicken *, carrots, onion, sweet potatoes, rutabaga, lettuce, parsley, bananas, pears, chips (potato and nacho, whole grain) cheetos, cookies, graham crackers, ice cream, tartar sauce, horseradish sauce, applesauce, peaches, white beans, soup, canned pumpkin, canned cherries, corn meal, brown rice flour.

*BBQ chicken. I resort to buying these now and then, but I feel guilty every time because (1) the idea of mass-produced chicken is too depressing - “nasty, brutish and short” (Hobbes, 1651) are their lives (2) the packaging. I wash it and put it in recycle but I would wager that for every one that gets recycled, three get put in the trash. It gets the fast-consumption treatment from start to finish. (3) the food quality. Although they taste good, there is a lot of salt and a lot of fat.

Unusual stuff: 2 bottles of white wine (one for home, one for Jacques) The aforementioned reusable produce bags, 3 shirts (Jacques’ birthday present) a pair of shoes for Dad.*

*The bags, shirts and shoes were purchased through Amazon. This company makes it way too easy to shop there and they are very, very good at staying in touch and getting you your stuff fast, but it still makes me uncomfortable. I was brought up by children of the Depression (one a New England Yankee; renown for, and proud of, their frugality). My sister and I wore lots of clothes purchased at church rummage sales. But see how the mighty have fallen - now I shop online. Amazon specializes in immediate gratification. While you shop, they suggest other things you might like and so help me, I have ended up buying more stuff that way. My weakness is event clothes, especially costumes for plays. 

Oct. 28. (Canadian Tire)* Gallon of grey paint, toilet paper, paper towels, baking soda, Mrs. Meyers’ all-purpose cleaning fluid, batteries., gas for car.

* I like Canadian Tire, although the excessive merchandise annoys me. The commentator for the video, “The Story of Stuff,” reminds me of the inner monologue that runs in my head while I’m shopping. For example, looking at those awful Keurig coffee single serving containers makes me furious. But I like CT because they have a decent website that actually tells you what aisle something is in, so that if you’re not the type of shopper to linger and hang out (I’m not) you can get in and get out in fairly short order. The other thing I like about them is that you can apply your points at the checkout (they show on the screen) and as they also have a gas station, I get my gas there, too. About the car - yes, it uses gas. It is my father’s former car, which I took over when he stopped driving and after I sent my dear Fit back to the States because (1) no point in having 2 cars, since I’m the only one driving, and (2) too expensive and time-consuming to bring it over the border permanently.  I talk to my car and keep him reasonably clean - I think things like buildings and cars, while not being exactly sentient, absorb the energy we put towards them and ‘know’ that they are cared for. Ironically, this is what builds an image for advertising. The history of the ‘relationship’ someone has with a certain brand of car is carried forward and burnished to a high nostalgic sheen to keep you loyal to that brand. The following link is to show what I mean, NOT because I drive a Mustang!

https://www.theverge.com/2018/1/16/16892736/ford-mustang-bullitt-detroit-auto-show-2018

(Jean Coutu Pharmacy)* Prescription drugs for the household. My parents don’t take too many, but nevertheless I am still going to the pharmacy 1-2x a week. I order prescriptions over the phone via their automated service, but I usually have to wait in line for them. There are large and scary photos of women’s faces with fake eyelashes and pink lips that I try not to look at while I’m waiting. I have nothing against makeup -I wear it - and decorating one’s face and body is as old as humankind - but the advertising is appalling. It’s not artistic, it’s depressing and vapid and completely negates any sense of human-ness. And what the labels say -! My sister claims to have seen a bottle of foundation with ‘resurfacing’ written on it. Great, just what I want to be told, that my face needs to be resurfaced.

Here is the view from the pharmacy:

Groceries: Halloween candy*, flour, mango salsa,* grapeseed oil, eggs, cheese, yogourt, apples, bread.

*Halloween candy: we had no trick-or-treaters because of the weather, so we ate it instead. Holiday-sanctioned junk food! * Mango salsa was strictly an impulse buy, as what I really wanted was lemon yogourt but realized I couldn’t have it then as it would interfere with my synthroid rx (calcium blocks a lot of meds) - so, I was a primed sitting duck for the salsa in the next aisle, justifying my purchase because it was ‘on sale!’

Nov. 2. Been without power for 12h. 

Groceries: Napkins, pickles, cookies, tea, maple syrup, chicken broth, graham crackers, canned cherries, peanut butter, buckwheat flour, orange juice, milk, eggs, cheese, soy milk, grapes, apples, chicken, deli sandwiches,* cotton squares.

* Deli sandwiches were a concession to the storm so I didn’t have to cook. I don’t visit the deli much because it’s an expensive way to buy meat. I did cook the chicken at the community centre, and I think I blew a fuse with the skillet. 

Canadian Tire: Gas for the car. Camp stove and fluid. Definitely an unusual purchase, but desperate times call for desperate (expensive) measures. Financial conscience assuaged by more CT points. 

Pharmacy: More prescriptions. Cetaphil cream (a must for keeping my mother’s paper-thin skin hydrated), latex biodegradable gloves (I use these one-use gloves for applying my mother’s skin medications - she has a rare genetic skin condition.) I don’t like using single-use anything, but I need to protect my hands. When the CLSC nurses come, they throw  away everything they use - gloves, tweezers, scissors, saline bottles. They have to. I used to rinse off the tweezers and scissors and save them with the extra bandages the nurses leave.

Razor blade replacements for Dad’s electric razor.

Nov. 3. Power restored late in the day. I went into consumer overdrive: rushed around using every appliance in sight - three loads of laundry, the dishwasher, the vacuum cleaner, and I went to the store, too. Threw away everything in the refrigerator, just to be on the safe side with my parents. I hate the waste, as so many go without - and although there wasn’t a lot to throw out, it’s still a financial loss. I read somewhere that most food waste is from households, not restaurants - I have not researched this but if this is accurate, it’s a frightening indictment against us wasteful Westerners.

Groceries: Water,* mayonnaise, tartar sauce, beef and chicken broth, chips, butter, one beer, cheese, deli meat.

*Water was purchased mainly for the container. Jacques had given us a huge water container with hand pump but the smaller gallon containers are easier for the parents to pick up. 

Nov. 4. Groceries: Peanuts, baked beans, ice cream, frozen fish, tofu, grapes, bananas, celery, hummus, bacon, chicken, veggie burgers. 

Nov. 5. Haircut and highlight, 2x a year. I am not clever about cutting /highlighting my hair and have learned it’s best to leave it to a professional. Justified by only going twice a year.

Pharmacy (next to hairdresser) more batteries. I return used batteries and ink cartridges to Bureau en Gros recycle in Magog.

To sum up my consumer patterns: in the plus column, I coordinate my errands so I am not making several trips to Magog (10m. From Georgeville). During the summer, there is a nice farmer’s market in the village where I can buy vegetables and eggs. There is a village market, but it is expensive so I don’t go there often. I take my parents out for breakfast once in a while to the village restaurant. They make their own bread and use locally sourced food. I realize that it is a privilege to live in a place like Georgeville. It gives me a deep sense of serenity that people would spend a great deal of money to replicate in a vacation.

In the negative column: if I were not as happy with where I lived, or felt that my social life was missing something special, or if I was lonely - and if I had the money -  I would consume a lot more. Almost all of the readings point to people spending money they don’t have to buy things to fill that void inside. That would not be my situation, but I would spend money for things like nicer art supplies, going out and traveling. I am aware that I have consumer weaknesses but I try not to give in to them too often. 

Behaviour Shift: Part 2

 My pivotal moment was actually a thought on the back burner that got moved to the front burner; this thought being, I/we have got to get off the grid. That slender thread that brings power into this house is something I have no control over if it breaks, and I have to be in a position to take care of the folks. This is a project that needs to be carefully planned, but the time to start planning is now. Working on the solar curricula really got me thinking about it.

 My one concrete behavioural shift was to purchase reusable produce bags so that I won’t be taking the single-use plastic bags in the store anymore. I have been thinking about it, but finally decided to do it, motivated in part by this assignment. It is embarrassing to admit that it took this long to make the change, as I had written a paper in 2014 on the effects of plastic in the oceans.

https://www.fws.gov/news/blog/index.cfm/2012/10/24/Discarded-plastics-distress-albatross-chicks

 Another shift was away from plastic water bottles. They have been banned from the community centre in the village and it was my dad who said he wanted metal bottles for us - and now we have them.

 Challenges with changes - any new behaviour takes some time for adjustment. For example, I finally stopped chewing gum about 4 years ago. It took awhile, but I finally did it. Such a waste of money! I also stopped drinking carbonated water, but I still crave it now and then. I am trying to improve my recycling habits. Starting a compost this coming spring will be my next venture.

A small postscript: Some of my notes from Trevor Norris, from authors he cites

Arthur Brittan: “Advertisers sell privatization - individuals isolate themselves from demands and obligations of political and social relationships.” It sounds like the advertisers are implying that dependency on a community makes you weak. This is really disturbing. 

Zygmunt Bauman: “quick-fix world of consumerism.” Spending time in the pharmacy has me dwelling on the quick-fix world of pharmaceuticals - that, and living near Pfizer headquarters in Connecticut. The way pharmaceutical companies advertise their wares is its own creepshow; the barrage on TV relentless. My parents watch a lot of news, and as the viewing public at that time of day are generally retirees, the pharmaceutical ads are prolific. Serious-looking actors in white lab coats touting pills galore.

Barber: “McWorld in tandem with the global market economy has globalized many of our vices and almost none of our virtues” - “Consumerism as imperial project of global expansion of cultural uniformity” - In 2006, I went to a rural part of Bulgaria for a month on an artist exchange program - photos of Rocky, Madonna and J-Lo abounded, among other American pop culture icons. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Ivan Illich - “Schools are the reproductive organ of a consumer society” - my mother was really into Illich in the 1960s and his views, considered radical then, turned out to be most prescient. Consumerism indoctrination starts in earlier grade levels now, however. The tweens market comes to mind - pre-teenage girls being forced to think about their looks way too soon. 

      References

Eubanks, P., Schaeffer, J.D. (2008). A kind word for bullshit: the problem of academic 

writing. CCC[College Composition and Communication] 59:3

Horsfall, C. (2019). Video from Georgeville. Retrieved on November 4, 2019, from 

https://www.facebook.com/cindy.horsfall.3/videos/pcb.10159650482658868/10206

818968630318/?type=3&theater&ifg=1

Klavitter, J. (2012). Discarded plastics distress albatross chicks. [U.S.Fish & Wildlife Service, 

Open Spaces: A talk on the wild side]. Retrieved from 

https://www.fws.gov/news/blog/index.cfm/2012/10/24/Discarded-plastics-distress-albatross-chicks

Mattison, M. (2012). “Emancipation from Affluenza: Leading Social Change in the 

Classroom.” Dissertations & Theses. Paper 116. http://aura.antioch.edu/etds/116

Norris, T. (2011). Consuming schools: commercialism and the end of politics.  Toronto: University 

of Toronto Press, Scholarly Publishing Division. eBook.

The Phrase Finder. (n.d.). The meaning and origin of the expression: nasty, brutish and short. 

Retrieved November 9, 2019, from https://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/nasty-brutish-and-short.html

Warren, T. (2018). The return of Ford Mustang Bullitt tugs at auto lovers’ heart strings. 

Something new, in the spirit of something old. Retrieved from 

https://www.theverge.com/2018/1/16/16892736/ford-mustang-bullitt-detroit-auto-show-2018

[asksansweredpdf]

1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged? my best friend from when i was 4? no thanks! she’s deeeeefinitely more like a sister to me. it’d be weird

 2. You talked to an ex today, correct? nope

 3. Have you taken someones virginity? nope

 4. Is trust a big issue for you? honestly, it never used to be. but it definitely is becoming one as i get older

 5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently? i don’t like anyone romantically. but i do have a favourite work friend who i saw recently

 6. What are you excited for? after i graduate next week (not the exciting part) i get to finally watch endgame 

 7. What happened tonight? i went for a walk with my parents, and now im doing this

 8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted? fuck no. drunk girls are so cute

 9. Is confidence cute? absolutely 100% wholeheartedly!

 10. What is the last beverage you had? alcohol

 11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? maybe 2

 12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans? yeah man

 13. What are you gonna do Saturday night? well, that was yesterday. and i got drunk and started singing and then worked on this story i’ve been trying to figure out for the last 5 years. it’s finally coming together. next saturday? i don’t know. i might write something here about being graduated. maybe i’ll have more motivation to get my life in check. but most likely, i’ll be reblogging memes about endgame. and probably crying

 14. What are you going to spend money on next? 3 tickets to see endgame + the booking fee

 15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed? haha nooo. he kissed me and i wasn’t at all into it. but now he has a really cool gf who i love. so it worked out well

 16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months? yeah definitely! i plan to get a motorbike within that time period. and that means i won’t be stuck at home as often as i am. i plan on volunteering at places as well as working at my job. going out more means that i will probably feel more awake and alive. 

 17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything? honestly? i think one of my coworkers. she’s intimidating and can be a bit scary. but i think that’s why i’d be able to talk to her about anything. because she’s not at all fake! you know exactly what she thinks of what you’re saying. and she will tell you what you need to know, instead of what you want to hear. 

 18. The last time you felt broken? having to move back in to my parent’s houe

 19. Have you had sex today? nah

 20. Are you starting to realize anything? not really hey. i’m trying to figure things out and realise things. but if im being honest, i just feel really lost. 

 21. Are you in a good mood? yeah i am! a quiet, and introspective one, but i think that’s because the alcohol’s wearing off

 22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks? i don’t really have strong feelings about it either way. if i was in the mood and it was free then yeah maybe

 23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s? yeah they are. mine are a slightly lighter shade though. 

 24. What do you want right this second? to turn off the light in the bathroom in front of me. it’s too intense and it’s making my eyes hurt

 25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy? well i don’t like anyone. but if i did, i probably wouldn’t tell them. but i’d definitely tell them i was happy for them! even if i wasnt. 

 26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color?  yeah

 27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh? honestly? i don’t think so hey. maybe it’s because of my gemini venus, but being funny is so important to me. 

 28. What was the last thing that made you laugh? i went to the trouble of writing a whole paragraph describing this video before realising i could just link it

 29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now? hmmm sometimes i miss this best friend i had for 10 years. i said before how important it is to me to have someone who can make me laugh. and no one has ever been able to make me laugh like she did. i miss that a lot. and i miss how close we were. i tried to re-create that with other people (only for it to backfire). but yeah. i miss her a lot lately. not sure why that is

 30. Does everyone deserve a second chance? yes, but not for the same mistakes

 31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to? it was either 1 of 2 people, and i dont hate either of them 

 32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do? i don’t have feeling for anyone

 33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda? yes! fizzy drink is from the devil

 34. Listening to? sunburn - muse

 35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore? no

 36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is? i think he lives in queensland?

 37. Do you believe in love at first sight? absolutely not

 38. Who did you last call? my mum, to tell her i was finished at work

 39. Who was the last person you danced with? as in dance party, probably my old roommates. ballroom dance? then it’d be either my baby sister or my old best friend

 40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed? i just wanted a cuddle and he asked if he could kiss me. i didn’t want it to be awkward or hurt his feelings so i said yes safkdjhfdlsjkf

 41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake? i think like a week ago. when i was watching civil war

 42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today? ew no

 43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush? hahahahaha yes absolutely. 

 44. Do you tan in the nude? nah man i don’t tan on purpose

 45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss? yeah probably. although, the last person i kissed was the best friend of this other guy that i liked at the time. and i maaaaaybe more or less potentially kissed that guy to make the guy i liked jealous. i’m a good person though i swear

 46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? god no. i hate doing that. i love my sleep

 47. Who was the last person to call you? my manager to ask me to come in

 48. Do you sing in the shower? nah. just dance

 49. Do you dance in the car? yes! 

 50. Ever used a bow and arrow? yeah actually. we had an archery thing at a few school camps. it was fun.

 51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? school pictures? no wait, uni ID i guess

 52. Do you think musicals are cheesy? yes and i love them

 53. Is Christmas stressful? fuck no. christmas is so healing! everywhere is beautifully decorated, they play sweet and uplifting christmas carols. you get to buy presents for the people you love. and at work, all i have to do is serve customers which is the best part of my job

 54. Ever eat a pierogi? nope

 55. Favorite type of fruit pie? apple!

 56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? to be an astronaut! i am, however, deathly afraid of heights to the point that they will induce panic attacks (and have done so, multiple times). and i’m also terrible at maths.

 57. Do you believe in ghosts? nah

 58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? nope

 59. Take a vitamin daily? yeah i do! that actually reminds me to take mine today. i forgot to yesterday

 60. Wear slippers? in the winter! they’re the best

 61. Wear a bath robe? nah

 62. What do you wear to bed? whatever the fuck. in summer it can be nothing but underwear, then in winter it’s track pants. i love a good nighty

 63. First concert? pink

 64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart? target. kmarts lights make my eyes hurt. and we dont have walmart in australia

 65. Nike or Adidas? adidas

 66. Cheetos Or Fritos? cheetos. we dont have fritos in australia

 67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds? peanuts

 68. Favorite Taylor Swift song? n/a

 69. Ever take dance lessons? yeah! i did ballet for like 8 years

 70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing? not really, no. but i don’t think about my future spouse much since it’s not really a plan for my life

 71. Can you curl your tongue? yep

 72. Ever won a spelling bee? no sadly

 73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy? of course! i used to feel my feelings very intensely

 74. What is your favorite book? at the moment it’s either the martian or the hunger games. but i’m sure as i read more, i’ll find a better one

 75. Do you study better with or without music? with music! i do everything with music playing all the time

 76. Regularly burn incense? only when i’m doing a witchy cleanse

 77. Ever been in love? not where the other person also loves me back

 78. Who would you like to see in concert? i would love to see freddie mercury in concert. sadly, not possible, so i’ll get back to you on that one

 79. What was the last concert you saw? i had to take my sister to see lana del rey

 80. Hot tea or cold tea? hot

 81. Tea or coffee? tea. coffee tastes like shit

 82. Favorite type of cookie? choc chip where all the chocolate bits are warm and melted. or anzac cookies

 83. Can you swim well? nope

 84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose? yeah dude

 85. Are you patient? i act patient, but on the inside i am screaming eternally

 86. DJ or band, at a wedding? i’ve never really thought much about my wedding, let alone these details. i guess i’d say band?

 87. Ever won a contest? nah

 88. Ever have plastic surgery? nope

 89. Which are better black or green olives? black

 90. Opinions on sex before marriage? sure man. i dont believe in god but if i did, then fuck that guy

 91. Best room for a fireplace? omgggggg yes i love fireplaces so much! lounge room or bedroom

 92. Do you want to get married? not really. i have so much i want to do and so many friends i want to make. if someone comes along and i love them, then i hold no objections to marriage. but it’s not really a dream of mine or anything

[coffeecupandteatime]

Obscure Review #6

It’s time to spork fics and ruin lives.

Ahhhhh, it’s that time of the year again, when the summer air is crisp, and we’re all stuck inside reading reviews on awful fanfics. ʕಠᴥಠʔ My mother always said I had no life.

I haven’t had a life since I found the internet.

Yes we know that Coffee.

None of us have had lives since the internet. Let’s just put that out there now.

You make a compelling point sir. ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ Now shall we begin the shitstorm?

Shit parade is a better description.

As usual, we will be offensive. Don’t take this personally.

Hey … I'm sorry I haven't updated in forever. I kind of helped my sister have a party at our house and it went really wild.

Suuuuuure you did pal. Ya sure you weren’t just thinking of quitting? Cos I’m sure many people would love that. ʕ° ͟ل͜ ͡°ʔ

My parents came home the next morning and we got grounded for having alcohol at the party. At the party, some stupid kids broke some of my mom's porcelain dolls and the vase that contained my grandmother's ashes was also broken. So not only did my sister get grounded for a year, but I, who wasn't even at the party got grounded as well.

OBJECTION! That’s a contradiction! You just stated “it went really wild”, implying you were there! *slams hands on desk* Isn’t that right?!

What the fuck? Who gets mad over porcelain dolls breaking? Those things are creepy as hell.  Also she HELPED her sister have the party so there’s that too.

Avid collectors get mad and not to mention her grandma’s ashes were spilled all over the floor.  

I’d be a little mad if someone busted the vase with grandma’s ashes.

I understand that part, just not the dolls.

And that's why I haven't updated. No laptop, TV, Ipod, phone, DS, and no Hot Cheetos or Starbucks!

You sound oh so very stereotypically white right now.

“OH NO! Things I can totally live without but depend on!”

Ouch. Right in the entitlements…

I’m sure none of those things wanted to be associated with you.

My mom also signed me up for ballet. So guess what I spent my time doing after school and during the summer.

Come on kid, ballet isn’t bad, it’s fun once you get past the clumsiness.

Anyway, now I have some of my freedom back. Before I quit ballet, I stuck the finger to the evil teacher and walked out of there like a boss! Yeah... no.

That would get you another month of grounding if you were my child.

Much worse would happen to her if that were my spawn.

I’m not having kids if they're always like this brat.

That would be extremely rude.

You say as if you cared.

I’m sure she does Coff.

Yeah, no she doesn’t.

And another reason I haven't updated was because Katherine's story takes place after the whole war with the giants and I didn't know if the camps were going to come together and change the name or something like that.

Oh, good. Then I take back my previous comment. She’s still a special-snowflake (bitch) daughter of Poseidon, but at least she’s not fucking up the prophecy. She’s just gonna fuck everything else up.

The daughter of Poseidemort who ran over a MINOTAUR and uses the knife game to punish her brother.

Special snowflakes galore.

MY MAMA SAYS I’M SPECIAL!

So when the book came out, I read it but I couldn't start writing a chapter. Well, here's the fourth chapter. Oh wait, remember how in the first chapter it say winter? Well I'm changing it to the summer

‘Scuse me? You’re just gonna… change the a fairly major element of the story with an author’s note? Instead of, y’know, editing???

And why not just keep it going and be lazy and call it an ‘AU’? Anyone can do that.

That would be too much effort, that’s why.

I sighed. It had been a week since we left the house. So many of those… things had come after us.

What things? You mean monsters?

What monsters? We never saw anything except the Minotaur which was run over and never heard from again.

Clearly we’re running from he must not be named.

Poseidemort

That old lady that had grown wings,

WHAT OLD LADY? Is there something happening off-screen we don’t know about??

All we ever got about the FURY was a SINGLE screech.

Just gonna dump her in here apparently.

the man/animal that had horns and was unbelievably strong,

Which was never shown, because they flattened it with a car.

Correction, attempted to flatten it with a car. It didn’t die and didn’t try to kill them although they sat on top of it for like 5 minutes.

What man/animal with horns? You know how many monsters fit that description? ʕಠ益ಠʔ

and that weird big hairless dog.

Please stop acting like we actually saw any of this.

I thought hellhounds had fur tho.

They do but she clearly doesn’t know her Greek monsters.

ʕಠ益ಠʔ That makes me angry.

It’s fine! Because we never saw this at all in context with the story.

My mom had names for them. That old lady with the wings was a fury, the man/animal thing with horns was a minotaur And the big dog thing is a hellhound.

A hellhound isn’t hairless you fop.  

This could have been put into the previous sentence but instead you continue to waste my time with your unneeded prose.

That’d be too easy.

My mom had always wanted us to get into the whole Greek and Roman myths about the gods. Never really sparked my interest. But my mom did make me take Latin. I hated it but I put up with it for her.

I’m sorry, WHAT?!? You’re a Greek demi-twit, you should be learning, guess what, GREEK!

Latin is not Greek.

Plot twist: MC isn’t a Demigod, she was adopted and Angel’s the true Demigod.

The only twist I would gladly accept.

So anyway, we have traveled from Beverly Hills to New York in a week in a would have been here earlier but we spent a whole day shopping for clothes.

“We’re being chased by monsters, but that’s okay! We can spend an entire day shopping without incident! Hooray, materialism!”

Lord forbid shopping gets compromised. ʕಠ益ಠʔ

Shoes, pants, a backpack for each of us, lady things, shirts, sweaters and jackets, underwear, tank tops, socks etc.

Yet you wasted time to compile a shortlist of the shit you bought. You could just say you bought the essentials.  

We’re off to a good start…

Lady things, yet you have underwear separately. ʕಠᴥಠʔ╭∩╮cool.

Um, do I have to explain what lady things are Jager?

Well if MC can try to get her brother and friend to basically fuck, ‘lady things’ shouldn’t be that bad. Just saying.

I’m surprised you don’t know already.

We stopped by hotels every morning to shower. That's why we took so long.

In the previous sentence you mentioned wasting an entire day shopping. I’m pretty confident that it contributed.

Tea, the author has no concept of time.

But now we're here. Sitting in a Starbucks. Sipping our frappuccinos as my mom babbles on and on about this camp.

I’m starting to sense a pattern with you....

Is urgency lost on you? Whatever is chasing you, I hope it smashes you into bloody paste leaving Angel alive to arrive at camp so we don’t have to deal with your drivel.

Apparently it is. ʕಠᴥಠʔ

Camp Half-Blood or something.

Good to know you’re paying attention to this crucial information concerning your safety and well-being.

I’m surprised she hasn’t tried getting Emily to hook up with the monsters to distract them.

She probably would if she thought it would let them live.

Gonna get that big ol’ Minotaur horn if ya know what I mean C;

I don’t.

Ahh, innocent Coffee. You’ll figure it out when you’re older.

This is about as old as I’m gonna get.

It's dark as we leave the cozy coffee shop. I instantly miss the smell of caffeine.

How the hell can you smell caffeine?

ʕ.ᴥ.ʔ Welp. The power of being a Sue lets you smell the impossible.

I don’t have enough caffeine in my system to deal with this shit.

That’s like saying I can smell yeast before it ferments.

As we make our way to the car, I notice a huge black cloud in the sky. I can see light flash inside it. Lightning.

Thanks Captain Obvious!

You act like you’ve never seen a storm before. Oh and we are once again copying Percy’s how-I-got-here story.

She probably hasn’t since her life was so ‘perfect’ before.

I open my mouth to-

Spout more idiotic bullshit? Bitch about Angel?

tell them about the cloud when Emily looks up at me. I know she noticed it. She's probably gonna end up clutching my side halfway through our ride to this camp. She's always been afraid of lightning.

Oh no. So scary. Much terrified.

Show that she’s afraid of it, don’t state it to the audience.

All Knowing Sue strikes again.

She feels that it will kill her.

SMITE HER ZEUS!

DAMMIT COFFEE! NOTHING WILL SAVE US! NOT EVEN THE PAN!

And she doesn't like airplanes or anything that involves lightning or being above the ground. She's never been on a swing since she doesn't like her feet not touching the ground or something that is touching the ground.

Show not tell, show not tell, shOW NOT TELL.

You’re gonna flip shit when you read who her mom is. Anyway, it’s apparently supposed to “contribute” to her fear of Zeus.

If it’s not Aphrodite I’ll be very disappointed.

Her only exception is the ocean since that's where we feel at home

I get why a child of Poseidon feels safe, but why Emily? We don’t know her. Nor do we care anymore.

I have a bad feeling about her god-parent…

Don’t got many choices.

I’m going to bet that her mother is a goddess who can’t/won’t have mortal children.

, so she feels safe with us. We get in the car and my mom starts driving. I hear thunder and I feel someone clutching my arm really hard.

So much so that she renders flesh from bone.

Coffee. What did I say.

I WILL DO ANYTHING TO SEE HER DIE.

IT WON’T SAVE US! THEN EMILY WILL TAKE OVER!

I MUST TRY! NO MATTER HOW FUTILE!

" Emily, that hurts." I say annoyed.

“Ow, pain. I fractured my ability to emote.”

Please kill her.

She could emote in the first place?

" Sorry." She loosens her grip. My arm can breath again.

I wasn’t aware your arm had breathing capabilities.

Does it have nostrils that we don’t see?

The arm has the most character development in this story.

" Emily, sweetie, nothing is going to happen to you. Besides, your mom will protect you.

“Ah, yes. My mother that I know nothing about and who has practically abandoned me. That’s comforting.”

“Bah you’ll get used to it.”

She would never let anything happen to you. Just like Angel and Kat's father would never let anything happen to I'm here."

If Poseidon never let anything happen to his demi-spawn this entire story would not exist.

Exactly. Thank you Coffee.

Emily just nodded when my looked at her through the rear mirror. Anyone could see that Emily didn't believe her and she was still afraid.

I can’t see anything with your lousy writing.

So much for those classes am I right guys?

" How about some music? That always soothes you." Angel put on the radio.

Why are we suddenly being formal in speech?

You know what would soothe me?

These fuckers dying?

In a fiery car crash.

Noooooooooo, why a fucking song. Why do you have to write out the song!

Cause raisins.

" If I die young, bury me in satin

I’ll bury you all right, but it will sure as hell not be in satin.

Maybe in an inferno.

That might work. Though someone might dig her up.

Lay me down on a bed of roses

If you don’t mind the napalm under it.

A good old fashioned bonfire.

That’d be to easy. Slowly lower her onto a bed of rusty nails.

Sink me in a river at dawn

Hon, even if you didn’t die I’d still drown you in a river.

She can breathe in water though.

FUCK.

AHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA! Can she breath in acid?

Send me away with the words of a love song

With the lyrics describing your imminent demise.

Nobody loves you.

Not even the knives.

Uh oh, uh oh

That’s how I feel about this entire fic.

That’s me everyday of my life.

Lord make me a rainbow,

Lord, please don’t.

I second that.

I'll shine down on my mother

With a death ray.

DEATH FROM ABOVE!

Preparing weapon: 80%.

She'll know I'm safe

Now that you’re no longer a nuisance.

Now a thorn in God’s side.

Poor God.

with you when she stands under my colors,

I bet your colors are about the same as your emotional spectrum.

A dull gray, slightly darker dull grey and and an even darker dull grey.

Don‘t insult grey.

Oh yeah. And purple.

You leave purple out of this.

oh,

“I finally realized this whole story was a mistake.”

Nah, I doubt Author ever thought that.

And life ain't always what you think it ought to be,

Like this story.

Clearly. I thought this was supposed to be a story.

I thought I was sober.

No

Is what I said when I was told we were going to continue reading.

Yeah, I’m never sober.

Ain't even grey,

Oh, look! Your emotional spectrum!

Huzaaaaaah!

but she buries her baby

Finally putting that whiny brat in the ground!

Yaaaaaay!

The sharp knife of a short life,

*hides knife* I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Quick protect Angel!

oh well

That’s what the author said before publishing this trash parade.

That’s what I said while looking at the last bottle.

I've had just enou-"

I’ve had enough of this shit too.

-Promptly swings door open and leaves-

Fuck this shit, I’m out!

Mom turned it off.

SWEET FREEDOM!

“Now that we’re done with those ominous implications…”

" Maybe we should do something else instead of listen to the radio. How about I tell you kids more about Camp Halfblood?"

“Obviously, no one was listening to me about it before.”

“Listen here you little shits! You’re going to camp!”

I feel like the author is now trying really hard to make mom explain things.

" Your father always wanted you to go to this camp since you were babies. He kept visiting me, telling me how it wasn't safe for you anywhere but the camp. I told him off, saying that nothing bad would ever happen to you as long as I was alive.

“Of course, I, a mortal woman, would know more about this sort of thing than a Greek god.”

Totally not Percy’s story.

Percy’s mother was worried and knew she would only be able to protect him so much and Sally knew her limits. She’s making her sound like “I can protect my kids by myself. I won’t get killed with a simple flick of the wrist.”. That’s fucking foolish.

And your father, Emily, he promised your mother he would guard you with his life.

“I can’t imagine why he would do that. It’s not like Greek gods avoid their children.”

“Mom, was dad just a one nighter?”

Her mom just left a note though, how the hell would he promise that? The gods don’t normally tell the mortal partner that they’re a god.

I don't think he ever told you this but one night, when you were about 10, he found your mother standing over your bed, crying quietly. He told me that she told him that all she could think about was you.

And he told you this, but not his daughter..? I see where Katherine’s omniscience comes from.

Damn genetics. Fuckers.

You guys may think that the parent that left you didn't care, but they did.

Except they don’t, because they are gods.

They don’t care cos they can literally have kids with damn near anyone.

Correction, they care for their kids but they normally have VERY limited contact with them. They make a point to stay out of their lives, to not interfere, it would piss off the Fates.

It hurt us as much as it did them. And by 'us' I mean Emily's dad and me."

That’s unusually specific.

Me thinks Moma and Emily’s dad had a fling.

" Mom, who is our dad and Emily's mom?"

My mom smiled softly. It was a sad smile. " Well, that's something you'll have to find out at camp, isn't it?" No one said anything.

“It’s more fun that way. Nothing bad ever comes from withholding this kind of information.”

“Not like this information is important to the plot.”

Get on with the plot please. This suspense shit is getting old fast.

5 minutes later

You don’t need a fucking transition for five fucking minutes!

Calm down Coffee.

PISS OFF

NAH!

DON’T MAKE ME GET THE PAN

" Are we there yet?"

“No, the end of the chapter is about another two pages of nothing happening.”

Guess I can get another case of rum. I have the time.

" Almost. Patience Angel."

Oh, so that’s who’s talking. For a second, I thought it was another hallucination. Wait a minute, who’s talking now? A ghost? It’s a ghost, isn’t it?

I think you need to lay off the shrooms.

" So how long are we going to stay at this camp?"

OH SHIT, A FLOATING HEAD GHOST!

Fuck, what’s the name of that Naruto story we did? Dammit, TEA! HELP!

When Wind meets earth, I believe and yes, that is how the author wrote it.

" For the rest of Winter break."

Didn’t you change it to summer in your author’s note?

.-. I’m greatly confused and annoyed at the same time, what do you call that?

Confoyed? I dunno.

Angel groaned. I groaned. Emily squealed.

And I unloaded a shotgun into everyone mentioned.

-Takes the shotgun back- Hey, this is for emergencies only.

*takes shotgun* With how fast this is going downhill, this counts.

-Takes it back- I’M the one who brought this thing, stop wasting ammo on this shit show, wait for My Inner Life.

This joke is overkill.

" We're gonna have so much fun! We'll meet new people. And there might be some cut boys." She winked at me. " And cute girls for you Angel,"

“And we’re probably going to die!”

I long for the sweet release of death. I refuse to go to AA.

Turns out Angel and Emily just weren't meant to be. She said that she felt no spark when they had a make-out session in her room on the boat. And he said that it felt weird kissing her. Like he was kissing his mom.

That is just gross.

And thus, that entire chapter was a big waste of everyone’s time, because the author decided on a whim to abort that story arc.

What the fuck…? Oooooooh wait till I do my thoughts at the end, ooooh you just wait.

So they've decided to just stay friends. But hey, I'm not complaining.

I am! That chapter never needed to happen if it was going to end like that.

Goddamitgoddamitgoddamit. GODDAMIT!

" Oh. And you'll love your cabins. Maybe Artemis and her hunters will be there. But don't join them. Just 5 more miles."

Why is she talking like she’s been there before? She’s mortal, mortals can’t enter the camp.

Omniscient protagonist powers go!

Rather Katherine joined them or not, she’ll never lose her V-card :^)

My mom kept smiling and shed a few more tears.

“So close to freedom from this awful story!”

“So close to losing these little shits!”

When we were about 3 miles away my mom suddenly stopped the car. " No. That's impossible. We should have had more time." She whispered this to herself. She was looking through the rearview mirror.

This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t spent an entire day shopping!

YOU HAVE NO CONCEPT OF TIME DAMMIT!

We are definitely copying Percy’s story but trying to make it seem original.

" Get out! Everybody get out!" Her voice was panicked. We got out as quickly as we could.

Which was at a snail’s pace, like everything else in this goddamn story.

Yet now we decide we want to live. Why can’t you just die Sue???

Except the second chapter, that happened quicker and I’m glad.

She started rummaging through the trunk. She handed us the luggages filled with our belongings. Then she pulled out a long thin sword. " Now, we're going to run.

Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to run with swords?!

Wanna know what else is long and thin?

The spear of which I’ll impale you with if you continue that joke.

-Leans in closer- ʕ°ᴥ°ʔ My dick.

SCROTAL PUNCH!

TEA GIVE ME THE SHOTGUN!

You had fair warning, there is nothing I can do to help you.

To the top of the hill. The monsters have caught up with us.

I still don’t see any monsters.

It would be nice if you put effort into the scene. For now we see floating blobs.

I see a heaping pile of shit called “How it all began”.

We have a few minutes before they reach us.

Why doesn’t the All-Seeing protagonist see them then?

Cause raisins.

Cos I scooped her eyes out with a grapefruit spoon.

Give me your hands." We all held out a hand.

She proceeded to chop off their hands with the sword.

“My tummy was making the rumblies...that only hands could satisfy.”

“Caaaaaaaaaaaaarl!”

" Give me your pocket knife Angel."

“So I may kill you quicker.”

Quick, castrate him so we don’t more Stus and Sues.

" I don't know what you're talking about." She glared at him. He handed it to her. She grabbed his hand and cut the palm.

Which she really could have done with the sword…

Me too buddy, me too. -Pats Coffee’s back.-

He pulled back his hand but it was too late. The damage was already done.

She rolled a nat 20 and hit him with critical damage. He lost his last 2 HP and had to go recover in the local tavern.

He rolled a nat 1 dexterity roll, he slipped, fell and broke his neck on the way to the tavern.

Jagerbomb rolled a nat 20 and won the last case of rum.

She grabbed a white towel from the hand and pressed his wound to it. The blood stained part of it red.

No shit, it’s a WHITE towel. Blood is red, thus it stains towel.

What are you talking about? Blood is pink. It’s always been that color.

No, blood is blue.

" I'm sorry. THis will throw them off our trail for a bit."

I like to think she was a bit enthusiastic for a second, but then realized the story she was in.

-Takes a sip from a beer can- Eyup.

She did the same to us. It stang but no as much as I thought as it would.

The word is stung, not stang. A stang is a Mustang,  which you can’t drive.

Or ride. Cos Mustangs are too damn majestic for you.

Or as in Roy Mustang, but that’s not a good idea unless you like the idea of female officers in tiny miniskirts…

ʕ◕ᴥ◕ʔ Females? Miniskirts? Where do I sign up?

Down boy.

She threw the blood stained towel in the back car seat. Then we ran.

From what? I still don’t see the threat!

Their running from their emotions, Coffee.

What emotions?

The ones they left behind years ago.

We jumped over fallen trees and prickly bushes ripped our clothes as we brushed past them while running away from the monsters.

You keep saying that, but I still don’t see anything nor is there a threat. Maybe if I believe in it enough the monsters will appear and eat them.

Coffee. We’re not going to be saved, stop it. -Flicks nose-

We heard a roar back where the car was. That made us run faster. We finally believed my mother.

Took you long enough!

Let’s play the guessing game on what monster it is! GODZILLA!

The gods are real. We're demigods. And monsters are after us so they can spill our blood.

She didn’t explain this shit at all to you. Also you’re being overly formal again.

Well, you’ve been doing a bang up job avoiding them so far.

So why fucking worry!?

Then we found it. The entry to this camp.

These sentences. Are. Insanely choppy.

It hurts. My. Brain.

At first I couldn't read what it said, then my dyslexia reformed the words.

This is the first time we’ve seen of you ever having dyslexia.

She’s stating things again, would it kill you to either put it in earlier or better yet show this stuff happening.

She can magically give herself different disabilities.

Camp Half-Blood. We passed under the sign and a barrier appeared as we did. It didn't stop us from going in. It was as if showing that not just anyone could enter.

Wow, so exactly what a barrier does!

If your mother already explained everything to you then you should already know what the barrier does.

:O Holy shit! Something that actually does it’s job!

My mom looked at us longingly. I gestured for her to come with us. She shook her head sadly. I understood.

“Even though I’ve never been here before and I know nothing about the camp.”

All Knowing Sue strikes back!

The barrier sensed her and reminded her that she couldn't enter.

Reminded her? I think you mean stopped her completely.

“Oh sorry ma’am but you can’t come in here.”

" Ms. Adams. Come on."

ARGHH! FLOATING HEAD GHOST!

KILL IT WITH FIR-SHIT IT’S A GHOST!

" Yeah Mom." " She can't. The barrier won't let her. She's human."

I think the author gave up on writing.

I mean, technically, Demigods are human too since they're not, ya know… Gods.

They’re part god, that’s what allows them to get through.

" Kat's right. This is where you guys go ahead without me." A roar startled us. It was close by.

This looks suspiciously familiar.

Yep, we’re definitely copying Percy’s story.

Plus 1 for originality, Suethor.

" I have to go. If I stay any longer, they'll catch me." She blew us a kiss before disappearing into the trees. We watched as the monsters finally reached us and started banging on the barrier.

There they are! A little late on the chase scene there.

Give them a break, they’re Union monsters.

They couldn't get in either. I smirked and stuck out my tongue.

I’d like to see you do that outside the barrier.

“Let me stick my tongue out and be a brat while I watch my mom is probably being chased by monsters.”

We taunted them for a while longer. We had to make sure Mom had enough time to get away.

You’re copying Percy’s story and trying to be original, so if anything mom is probably going to die.

I doubt the monsters give a damn about kids taunting them. Your mother is probably already dead if they are tolerating you.

I mean, that forest is probably crawling with monsters, and not just Greek ones too, probably a damn Wendigo out there too. -Shivers-

When they finally realized they weren't going to get in anytime soon, they angrily left.

*stomps feet* “It’s not fair!”

“I wanted to tear the blondie’s spine out!”

We turned around and walked into this camp. I smiled at the feeling I felt as I walked, looking for an adult in this quiet place. It felt peaceful. Safe. Like home.

“We’ve only been here for twenty seconds.”

“Katherine, wake up, it was all a dream, you’ve been in a coma for two years.” -sighs- I wish...

PLOT TWIST!

CONCLUSION

Well, what can I say? After four chapters of the same shit different day, this isn’t surprising. How is one supposed to rate a chapter where nothing happens?

I can guarantee that it gets so much worse. You’ll have a lot to scream about later.

Well, I sure as fuck can say something! WHY THE FUCK DID YOU HAVE US SIT THROUGH TWO CHAPTERS (1 and 2) ABOUT HOW MUCH ANGEL AND EMILY LOVE EACH OTHER ONLY FOR ANGEL AND EMILY TO STAY FRIENDS!? LIKE SERIOUSLY! CHAPTER TWO WAS LITERALLY JUST KATHARINE TRYING TO GET EMILY TO FUCK HER BROTHER! AND WHAT DO WE GET FOR SITTING THROUGH THAT HELL? NOTHING! JUST THE ‘Let’s be friends’ BULLSHIT! And I have to agree with Coffee, all these chapters are the fucking same! Just unnecessary FILLER! Still no emotions, descriptions, and Katherine is the WORST character in this shit show. Fuck you anD YOUR GOAT!

I heard that yelling your name followed by “I’m fine” actually helps most cases of stress.

I have a bottle of jack and a shotgun. I’m fine. -Casual muscle spasm.-

I was thinking something more like, “I’M COFFEE AND I’M FINE!”

I AM FINE DAMMIT!

There you go~!

-Rapidly pumps shotgun to stay calm-

-Coffee, Tea, and Jagerbomb