theblerdbox - Tumblr blog

[theblerdbox]

I just wrote 8 pages when I haven't written in months and was beginning to think I'd never be able to again. Idk what it is, but I am sharing and manifesting this energy for every writer who sees this. May you write 8 quality pages effortlessly and find joy writing once more

[theblerdbox]

Carmy Berzatto is every woman.

carmy berzatto + tumblr text posts (for @hoezier)

[theblerdbox]

vii || No Good, Root-Working, Heart-Breaking Great-Great-Grandmother

Green Lake, Texas - 1900

Green Lake, Texas was heaven on earth, once upon a time, before the empire of the South came crumbling down, like the walls of Jericho.

Before its demise, the people of Green Lake lived in harmony. Neighbors were family. To leave Green Lake to do business elsewhere was taboo. People didn't buy or sell homes. They built them, expanded them, and passed them on for generations. Mayor Walker, boasted with a menacing grin, "Everything you could ever need is right here, at home."

So, naturally, when Elroy Zeroni arrived in Green Lake, he made a home. He built a house on the lake and a garden atop the tallest mountain. He married the most beautiful woman in town, and, together they raised a set of twins, Clove and Samuel, with endless love and integrity.

Sam took after his father - hardworking and earnest - able to fix anything with the magic of his hands. Clove took after her mother, an incredibly shy, gifted, root-worker with a knack for natural remedies and spell-casting. Elroy adopted his mother's house rules: "No love spells and no curses." But, Clove couldn't help but break the rules. Little did her father know that his daughter's existence was a love spell at work, as was his wife's. When they entered a room, the world stopped, men gravitated towards them like magnets, women feared them, children trusted them, and animals followed them.

Mrs. Zeroni was rumored to come from a family of sirens from Louisiana. The housewives of Green Lake's elite grew suspicious of her adversity to water. But, that couldn't have been further from the truth. She came from a family of high priestesses and devout root-workers. Her appeal was no more supernatural than the application of kindness and good genes. 

As children, the twins sold onions, vegetables, and other goods outside of the chapel every Sunday, tending to the let out of churchgoers seeking last-minute supplies for Sunday dinner and miracle healing remedies.

Ten-year-old Sam, boisterously announced the day's specials as the crowd gathered. His twin sister, Clove handled the money while her father maintained inventory on the farm.

A young boy was immediately taken by Clove who towered over him. He looked up to her, eyes round and wide with wonder. His mother nudged him and snarled between clenched teeth every Sunday, "Stanley Yelnats, it is not polite to stare!"

This particular Sunday, the Lord's word mustered the boy with enough courage to speak. Stanley shamelessly and naively surveyed her flawlessness. He'd never seen a black diamond, but he was confident such wouldn't hold a candle to the enchanting girl standing before him. Her obsidian skin sparkled under the beating sun - like the angel, Gabriel - to which he was inferior. 

It was love at first sight.

"One box of herbal tea bags, three onions, two carrots, and..."

Stanley quickly grabbed a string of ceramic beads hanging from the buggy and placed it before her.

Clove smirked and looked over the beads, "These aren't cheap. They are handmade in Latvia and have been blessed over with holy water by the high priestess -"

"I have enough," he cut in, desperate to convince her and himself.

"And they are for women," Clove laughed, as did her brother who eavesdropped while he performed. Clove studied the clumsy boy. She was as good a salesperson as her brother - Perhaps better. Many were unaware Clove Zeroni had sold them anything until it was too late. She had a way of making customers feel like the decision to splurge was their own."It's $2 for the tea and vegetables - Beads like these go for $5," She looked up to Sam, who nodded in agreement, both in on the con. It didn't matter to Stanley. At that point, he was willing to sell his soul for a moment in her presence.

Young Stanley dug into his pockets and placed $10 in Clove's open palm. He'd been saving for weeks sweeping the floors of the only bank in town. "That's all I have," he said panicking as Clove held his gaze.

"Who are you trying to impress, Stanley Yelnats?" her full lips pulled into a smirk, knowing the answer but challenging the boy to speak for himself. 

He didn't fold or look away when he said, "You." 

Stanley gathered the tea, onions, and carrots in a sack before placing the string of beads back into Clove's hands with a shy smile. Stanley began to explain himself, "I noticed you never wear any jewelry and thought you could use -"

"Thank you," she didn't let him finish, "This is my favorite pattern."

No man, besides her father, had ever given her anything but stares before then.

Stanley tied the string of beads around her neck, basking in her scent. Clove admired his bravery. No one had ever flirted with her before. Clove was a beauty, but Sam was approachable. The boys wanted to be him and the girls wanted to be with him, secretly, batting their eyelashes and twirling their hair as they flocked to him after school. 

She extended a hand to her new friend, "Clove Zeroni."

"I know," Stanley bit his lip, embarrassed by honesty, "See you next Sunday?"

"Or sooner," she said, making Stanley blush.

"Be careful with that one, sis," Sam said in a low voice as Stanley ran home with glee, "There will be no saving us when he breaks."

Clove waved off her twin brother. If he could have admirers, why couldn't she?

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

Hi Peaches!

Love time no write. I miss you (and the Zeroni's) terribly. So here I am with a short chapter. After a long vacation from writing, I finally have the time and space to update this story. Enjoy!

[theblerdbox]

[theblerdbox]

[theblerdbox]

via weheartit

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[theblerdbox]

when I was a kid for some reason I thought Lola Bunny's last name was "Rabbit" and that she was actually Jessica and Roger's daughter. And the reason she wasn't in the original Loony Tunes is just that she wasn't born yet

I mean can you blame me. Look them and look at her. She's got a good blend of both of their features.

[theblerdbox]

Carl Phillips, from “Late in the Long Apprenticeship,” in Silverchest

[theblerdbox]

These are too good. Carmy x Syd are about to pull me out of fanfic retirement.

“Ursa Major”

I love writing white boy angst, especially in abstract form.

Carmy’s journal, covered in kitchen grease, creased and ripped on the sides. Black and white school notebook, his name scribbled in sharpie.

Feeling. To have a sensitivity or an intuitive understanding of.

I can’t decide if I feel.

I think passion dies the day you succeed. When it gets so easy, when you’re just doing it for the reason you’ve always done it: because it’s what you’ve done before. Passion is in everything. Food. Family. Music. Relationships. But I think all that died when it got so easy.

When the food tastes like it always had. When the argument never starts and never ends. When that same tune plays over and over and the memories are gone. When you take off all your clothes and you still feel fully dressed.

Reminder: bleach my chefs whites, they’ve got too many stains.

Needs: To fill quota this week. Six more hours of sleep. Eat at least one meal a day. Take Tylenol.

Wants: Apologize to Syd. A plate of spaghetti made by an addict. One hour of complete silence. Skin. I want to touch someone, skin to skin, in the quiet and the warm of a bed. To trace the figure, the bones of someone good to me.

‘Carmen Berzatto’s Greatest Feelings’

Peace. Buzzing restaurant, screaming kitchen. I was ripping out my eyebrows, picking at my knuckles. Perfect food, perfect order. But it was so loud so fucking loud. I just walked out. Pushed the door open and it was cold and quiet. I lit a cigarette, and I looked up at the sky like God was going to send the angels.

A star. A little white star, with only one person to look at it. I almost laughed, but it seemed almost disrespectful. Like laughing at the most beautiful woman alive.

Reminder: Apologize to syd.

Flavor. Sydney offered me a cup of this drink she was developing. Brilliantly pink, with lemon slices and mint leaves floating in it. I was so dehydrated I didn’t even think, I practically drowned myself.

Prickly pear. Strawberries. Mint. Lemon. Coconut water. It was sweetness that I hadn’t felt since I was young, the sweetness of swimming in a lake for the first time. I saw a girl my age sitting on the dock, her dark legs waving back and forth over the water. Her bathing suit was white and her smile was white and it was blinding.

It tasted like that.

Rage. Cousin pushed Sydney. It wasn’t personal. She argues like Nat. So maybe it was personal, to the wrong person. She stood there, hands on her hips, teeth biting out each word like a meal she was forced to eat, black braids darting as she got more in his face. So he pushed her. Like a fucking six year old. Like I wouldn’t push him back.

Reminder: Apologize to Syd.

Indescribable. The night we closed down a catering event. Some massive gala. I was screaming and so was Syd, but it didn’t matter, because Syd screamed with me. Fucking waitstaff. Sauces and lamp and scallops and a million allergies and dietary restrictions. So when it was all done, we sat on the floor and just closed our eyes.

“Do you think that I feel?”

I don’t know how I said it. I just know that I did. And that Sydney laughed, exhausted and delighted, a sound that probably tasted like sweetness and warmth. I was so cold.

“I think you feel everything, Carmy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s your thing. It’s what makes your food so good. It tastes like anger and frustration and sadness and obsession and true fucking love for something. That’s why people love it. Most people want to feel that, that raw emotion and fucking insanity.”

“Do you feel that? When you’re with me, all that shit? Is that-is that why you came to me?”

“Nah.” She grinned lopsidedly, “I came because when you find someone who feels what you feel, someone that sees the world you see, someone that-in so many ways, is the very best genius, you want that person to sit with you on the floor and just fucking talk to you. Just talk to you like it’s nothing, like you’re equals.”

“We’re equals.”

She shook her head. I turned to her, my shoulder pressed against the metal drawer. “Hey.” She looked at me.

With a little white star in her eyes. A star, with only one person to see it. And I felt something indescribable. Something so deep, I wondered if it would ever form thoughts, shape words. The only thing it could be even an echo of was respect. The deepest honor that the great Bear could give: truth.

“Talking to you isn’t nothing-it feels like everything that could possibly be. Like every dish I’ve ever made is yet to capture that. Syd, you are the feeling of greatness, the taste of fucking magnificence. I feel…I feel so deeply, and all that passion I put in, it’s not just anger and misery. It’s competition and chaos and dancing and arguing and genius and it’s us. You make me feel emotions that I think only we’ve invented. So yes, we are equals, because we are a matched set.”

I was breathing hard, eyes wide and desperate. But she was smiling, grinning, hiding her face.

“Bear-I swear. Sometimes you make me wonder.”

I smiled slightly, “Bear?”

“Only for special occasions.” She said, her smile white and her clothes white, but as blinded as I was, I didn’t look away. Someone was playing the piano somewhere, something familiar and old. Something I would remember even when I was fucking ninety.

“You know, at my old job, the chef would call his sous by a certain name. That name signified the greatest of feeling. It said, essentially, “You. You’ve crossed this line of no return and now we have to be like we are in private.”

Syd nodded slowly, “What’s my private name?”

“Star.”

“Hmm.” She sighed, “Like Ursa Major. The bear star.”

And what I felt was not indescribable. It now had a name.

Ursa Major.

Needs: Bleach whites again. Request Syd’s drinks menu. Apologize to cousin. Fak, electrical.

Wants: Three days off. To sleep under the stars, to build a bonfire that will make us smell like wood smoke for a week. To swim in the lake until the sun sets. To talk in the silence. To touch, with a tangling of our fingers. To speak, with eyes.

Reminder: Ask Star

[theblerdbox]

THE BEAR (2.09)

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[theblerdbox]

Wh-What human would want me? Perverts? […] or little boys? INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE | 1x05 A Vile Hunger for Your Hammering Heart

[theblerdbox]

Well, this is 30. What a blessing to share a birthday with my favorite fandom. Thank you @ceruleanmusings for your kind words and beautifully written review of my work. I won’t let you down!

Holes 20th Anniversary: Fanfic Edition!

If you thought I was going to let the Holes 20th anniversary pass me by without talking about fanfics, you were wrong!

I've been reading and writing Holes fanfics since, well, 2003! Back then they were all the same: a girl goes to CGL and falls in love with one of the guys. (I did this too! I'm calling myself out as well!) Usually Squid, sometimes Zigzag, and then Magnet coming after for the het ships. Otherwise SquidZag was THE ship of the fandom with a somewhat distant but close runner-up with SquidMag. (Stanley/Zero did have their supporters but they weren't as vocal then as they are now.)

So to say this far in the future when I dive back into the Holes fandom to read and that I was looking for something special or unique, it's an understatement.

I've read nearly every Holes fanfic available. I'v re-read my own (yes, even the really cringy one from the early 00s) and keep looking for something new to scratch my itch and I didn't think I'd ever find it.

And then I found Desperado by @theblerdbox on Wattpad and I. Was. Hooked.

It emulates the book's writing style in a way that, while brisk, doesn't lack substance. It's not a rewrite either, but its own story wrapped in the Holes universe to bring more background to the Zeronis and their lineage in a world of magic of mysticism.

With Tyler as the heroine and her connection not only to Stanley but to Zero, we get a new look into how Camp Green Lake runs, what the Zeronis were up to between Madam Zeroni casting her "curse" and Zero ending up at Camp Green Lake, and what exactly it means to live up to family expectations.

A great binge read that leaves me coming back for more, Desperado is a fresh take on Holes fanfiction with fantastic world-building, bright characters, and a tightly waved plot that would impress Louis Sachar himself. RJ leaves me astounded with every re-read due to all the carefully laid plot points and foreshadowing that, I'm sure, would get Louis Sachar's stamp of approval. You are missing out if you aren't reading this fanfic!

Bonus, it's followed up with an in-progress sequel called Wicked Games! Don't miss out!

I couldn't let this anniversary pass by without shouting out who I'm pretty sure is the only other person in the fandom with me, lol. This book and movie has brought a new and special friend in my life and I love knowing that there's someone else out there that understands just how much this book means, how much this book did for the world and storytelling, and how much I love Squid. (Jake will have a problem if he ever meets one of us, lol.)

@theblerdbox you're a fantastic writer and, as I say a lot, an amazing world-builder. You're very creative, innovative, and a bright spot in the fandom. I'm very lucky to be able to see your process up-close and constantly remain in awe at how you handle and pull all the puzzle pieces in your world together. You inspire me as a writer and as a creative persona and I can't wait to see what you do next! Happy 20th Holes anniversary!

Desperado and Wicked Games are available on Wattpad!

[theblerdbox]

Innocent. (Holes AU x Nevermore Academy)

TW: Physical Abuse, Corporal Punishment

"Yes, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for you are with me; your rod and your staff they comfort me." Psalm 23:4

Nevermore Academy for Impressionable Young Women and Camp Green Lake crossed paths once in history - Valentine's Day 1979.

Fifteen-year-old Eva tugged at the hem of her shrunken plaid skirt. She pulled it beyond her knees and it sprung into position upon release. "You're making it worse," Elle groaned, "I've been telling you it's time to size up -"

"I'm not sizing up," Eva snapped, "I refuse to gain weight in this place. She was getting nervous. A Nevermore Girl never breaks the dress code: Sunday skirts are to fall right at the knee, no lower and certainly no higher.

"It's your funeral," Elle said flatly.

The bus ride to Camp Green Lake was 12 hours of silence. They had only heard the rumors about Camp Green Lake before - The dust, the heat, the yellow spotted lizard. While lumber duty, the girls would challenge each assumption with the swing of an axe.

"Poor little babies. It must be sooooo hard digging ONE hole for the day."

"We risk our lives out here on those climbs."

"I can count on two hands how many times I've almost been clipped by a rogue branch!"

"Did you hear about that senior who can't walk anymore? She can't walk AT ALL!"

"And they just have to dig a hole - Some punishment."

"I heard Headmaster Walker and his sister have a bet," Claire bit her lip, itching to share what she'd overheard during quiet hour through the walls, "He thinks her camp is bullshit. Headmaster Walker made a bet with his sister, that if her camp is any better than his, he'll finally gift the camp with a fat check."

"And if she loses?"

"He takes the land and she's out on the street."

Valentine's Day 1979 was simply a house check. Simon, Professor Clarice Thompkins, guidance counselor, and Nevermore's 10 best students made their way to what was formerly known as Green Lake, TX - Simon's hometown.

The girls filed off the bus one by one, perfectly groomed, matching from head to two. It disturbed Mr. Sir how the girls looked exactly alike. The girls remained silent and held their chins high enough to be aware but locking eyes with no one.

"Well trained," Mr. Pendanski assessed, "You didn't tell us your brother was military.

Lou Walker took the last toke of her cigarette and tossed it to the side, ignoring the assumption of her colleague. She recognized the clenched jaws, fidgeting fingers, and dry glances through the orange jumpsuit-wearing boys who called out to them. "Those girls are scared to death."

She met her brother and pulled him into a warm hug, "Welcome home, Simon!"

Simon huffed and reluctantly returned the embrace before shrugging his sister off, "You know how I am about touch." Despite the heat, Simon was elaborately draped in his favorite black cape. Underneath he dawned a three-piece black suit and a solid-colored bowtie.

"Mother always did say you were a diva," The Warden teased.

"Mother was always right," Simon sang under his breath before addressing the ladies in plaid skirts awaiting his command, "Lou, these are some of my best students. I hope that their testimony may be of inspiration for some of your - inmates."

He hissed the word inmates with distaste and the girls acknowledged the Camp Green Lake Staff with a slight choreographed nod. Mr. Sir eyed them with overt suspicion.

"Honestly sister," he continued with a condescending giggle, "You could at least put them inside a building. These poor young men have been sleeping in tents? No wonder you have trouble taming them."

"Teenagers are hard to manage." While Lou took her brother on a Camp Green Lake grounds tour, The girls set up the Wreck Room for the Valentine's Dance they'd planned. The girls wrote each camper a valentine, signed with a heart.

The Nevermore Academy/Camp Green Lake pen pal program was three years old, organized by the camps' guidance counselors Mr. Pendanski and Miss Leo. The two were excited to meet each other after writing for so long. In their letters, they'd share their worst desk salad recipes. For the visit, Pendanski took it upon himself to prepare his best. He thought it was cute how she covered her mouth while she ate. "It's so far out," she took a sip of cola, "that I finally get to sit here with you and have the best sad desk salad."

"Oh, don't you just love love!?" Ellie danced around with the pink streamers she was assigned to hang, "God, I hope they're cute. Are any of them cute?"

"Cute as a python," Claire scoffed, "These boys are doing jail time."

"Hey, now, we're here because we messed up too," an older girl called from atop the ladder, gesturing for Ellie to pass on the work.

"We're reformed. They're wasting space. I heard there's on in for murder."

The others gasped and shook their heads in disbelief.

Ellie gazed out the window at the first set of boys returning from a day's work, "I think we all deserve to be loved, don't you, Eva?"

Eva quietly placed the finishing touches on her valentine by the pool table. It was a sketch of her and, Mitch, her pen pal of 8 months. He was in for shoplifting, like her.

As long as I have you, I don't need to steal anything, he wrote.

Ellie had been writing with his bunkie, Spider. Eva fantasized about the day the four of them would get to double date after they finish their sentences - free. She snapped the valentine shut as she felt Ellie hover over her shoulder, "I think love is a privilege. Not a right."

The Wreck Room door flew open and the first set of boys piled in, smelling like fresh soap. Eva caught her breath, masking the nerves that budded at the thought that Mitch could be in the same room. She tugged on her skirt and stood to her feet. The shift's waistband was pulled to her growing hips. An older girl lent Eva a sweater to wrap around her waist, "It happens to the best of us."

From a distance, she heard Mr. Pendanski address a tall boy of A-Tent, as Mitchell. Eva and Mitchell locked eyes from across the room, recognizing each other immediately. Ellie crept up behind Eva and slowly pushed her friend forward, whispering into her ear, "Jackpot!"

They were having the night of their lives. Mitch and Eva caught up and chatted the whole night. It was like they'd always known each other. They stood to make another trip to the punch bowl and Eva forgot to tug on her skirt. She thought nothing of it until an hour later.

Simon sauntered into the Wreck Room, Lou after him. He sniffed the air and frowned at the cheap decorations. His eyes landed on Eva and he swiftly clapped his hands, a signal for Miss Leo to cut the music for a very important announcement.

Simon, ever the Drama King, waited for complete silence before speaking, "Well, I am glad you are all enjoying the visit. It's a real party in here tonight!" He kept his eyes on Eva and her stomach dropped.

"What's with this guy?" Mitch whispered. Recognizing the seriousness in The Headmaster's tone, Eva shook her head, her eyes pleading with Mitch not to say more.

"Take Eva for example," The Headmaster held out a hand, gesturing for Eva to step forward into the room's center he created with a terrifying aura. Her knees quivered with each step and she suddenly wished she took a bathroom break from catching up with Mitch.

"Don't be scared," The Headmaster hissed, "I don't bite."

Once Eva reached him, Simon placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. She jumped as he started talking again and in her peripheral, she caught his sister doing the same. "Gentlemen, this is Eva. One of our brightest stars and youngest graduates. She's made quite the progress - Haven't you, Eva?"

Eva gulped and cleared her throat. The Headmaster repeated himself with a shout that made all the room's occupants jump, including Mr. Sir, whose hand rested readily on the pistol holstered to his waistband.

"I'm almost done with my tenure," Eva's voice cracked with embarrassment.

"Then how would you explain this?" Simon tugged on the hem of Eva's shrinking plaid skirt and she whimpered. "Is this what Nevermore has taught you?" He screamed at her, "To show out for the boys?"

Spider, Mitch, and the rest of A-Tent stepped forward at the ready, but Mr. Sir intercepted them with a strong arm and a warning, "Gentlemen."

In actuality, Mr. Sir wanted to step in. He didn't know how. But seeing Lou Walker's eyes well up with guilt as she watched her brother humiliate that girl was something worth killing to never see again.

Simon continued, saying in a sweet sinister undertone, "Now, darling, you must know I'm not mad. I'm just thoroughly disappointed. Nevermore Academy," The Headmaster addressed the girls only, as if the dozens of boys in orange jumpsuits disappeared, "What is the punishment appropriate for a violation of the dress code? Anyone? Call it out, ladies. You know this!"

"40 lashes," called a voice from the back of the room.

"Very good!" Simon removed his cape and jacket, piling both into Miss Leo's empty arms. She removed his cuff links, with care, and rolled up his sleeves.

He removed his belt and returned his attention to a now crying Eva. She bowed her head and prayed. That was the only thing that could save her now. She chanted to herself the words her abuela made her memorize in the fifth grade, "Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies."

Simon continued with afternoon trivia, "And what is the punishment associated with misrepresenting the Nevermore Academy brand?"

"Simon, stop this," Lou begged, "The girl gets it. We get it."

Simon repeated his answer with a scream and was met with an answer from a pale girl in front.

"50 lashes."

Mr. Sir pushed through the crowd with authority "That's enough! You stop this right now -"

Simon fearlessly looked the gun-toting cowboy in the eyes and stepped towards him, "I don't know who you are," he spoke slowly, "But, I know you're making a big mistake."

Mr. Sir looked to Lou who shrugged her shoulders in defeat.

"I -" Eva started to speak and the room went quiet again. She spoke through tears, "I didn't mean to do anything wrong."

Simon stopped in front of the girl and placed both hands on her shoulders, slowly pushing her down onto the chair waiting behind her. He rolled up her skirt, exposing her thighs to the onlooking campers, "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

She bow her head and began to pray again, "Thou anointest my head with oil."

CRACK!

"My cup runneth over."

CRACK!

"Surely goodness and mercy -"

CRACK!

"- follow me all the days -"

CRACK!

"- of my life -"

CRACK!

Eva looked up through her tears, riddled with strength as each lash landed against her exposed thighs. Bloody welts formed and all she could see was Mitch. He held her gaze, nodding for her to hold strong.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

"And I will dwell -"

CRACK!

"I shall dwell -"

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

"I shall dwell in the house of the Lord!" She cried out with a roar.

CRACK! CRACK!

"Forever."

Eva passed out shortly after. The other girls silently surrounded her, covering her lifeless, exposed body with their own sweaters and blankets. Yes, she messed up, but she was their sister.

"Back on the bus, all of you. We're done here." Simon hissed at Nevermore students and staff, shaken and bewildered by the scene. He repeated himself with a scream as he stormed out the Wreck Room door. The boys parted like the Red Sea for him. That cursed man was nothing to play with. Simon was met by his sister, blocking the exit with crossed arms and a scowl.

"It goes without saying that we won't be back."

"You're not welcome back. You're a monster. And I'll see to it your establishment ends in ruin."

"Now, that's a sight that I'd like to see," Simon glowed with dark sarcasm before pushing his way through The Warden and onto the awaiting coach bus. The girls followed behind him, carrying an unconscious Eva in their arms like a martyr.

Mitch, torn apart with grief tried to chase after them, but Pandanski and Mr. Sir held him back with the help of A-Tent. A medic eventually had to sedate him. Mitch was never the same after that day. He wrote Eva a letter every day, hoping for a response, but he never for one. None of the boys heard from the Nevermore Girls again. It was like they disappeared into thin air.

For months, the air of Camp Green Lake took a turn. The boys were softer with one another. Never again would they complain about having to dig a hole; bitch about the hot sun; or dread the possible sighting of the cursed yellow spotted lizard. Nothing was more jarring than experiencing another run-in with Simon Walker, Headmaster of Nevermore Academy for Impressionable Young Women.

That's episode 2! I hope it was a fun read. I promise I'll go back to Wicked Games after this. I just needed the warm-up.

Now, I want to hear from the readers, would you rather dig a hole a day in the hot sun for 8 months or chop down trees in the forest for 8 months? Comment below. (Jail is not an option!)

@ceruleanmusings

@ocfairygodmother

[theblerdbox]

Quick reminder from Edwin: You're a MAIN B*TCH.

Stream UnPrisoned on Hulu now!

[theblerdbox]

He's Different (Holes AU)

The Nevermore Academy for Impressionable Young Women serves its purpose - Infiltrating an insubordinate girl's mind, body, and spirit in order to grow a woman from its faultlines.

During her tenure, a Nevermore Girl plants the seed of intent in the soil of the Nevermore Estate. She is to nurture that seed until it sprouts into a tree with branches strong enough to bear the weight of her sisters ---

Together, they'll chop it down for firewood burned in a ceremonious bonfire to symbolize her descent into womanhood and redemption.

At least, that's what the pamphlets say.

In truth, Nevermore built more than character. It built monsters.

It's unsurprising that the Headmaster of Nevermore Academy for Impressionable Young Women was Simon Walker, the little brother to the infamous warden of Camp Green Lake, Lou Walker, and heir to the Walker estate of what's formerly known as Green Lake, Texas.

"My sister and I couldn't be any more different," Simon tells you over afternoon tea. He gently dabs the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief before placing the crystal saucer atop his mahogany desk. His glare lands on you as he sighs, "She was born with humanity."

@ceruleanmusings