#【 REMINDS OF A HOPELESS HOME

[voxxisms]

generic character tag drop

[sadhours]

ABSENTEE - 1

next chapter • masterlist • my requests are open!!

my new series!!! i promise the finale to wicked sensations is coming soon but in the mean time, enjoy this :) it’ll be mostly Billy centric, not terribly romantic and it takes place before he moves to hawkins

content warnings: minors dni 18+, violence, child abuse (physical and verbal), homophobic slur, cannabis use, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, blow job

word count: 6k+

///.

The rooftop is his favorite place to be. It’s calm, though you can hear the sounds of the city below you. Billy likes the whooshing of the cars on the highway and the drunken chatter of college kids bar hopping. Soothing. Happy sounds. Not like the ones he hears at home. The second he’s through the door, Neil’s berating him for whatever he’s stewed on while Billy was gone. So suffice to say, Billy stays out of the house most days and nights. The grace period from having Max and Susan is over and Neil isn’t hiding who he truly is anymore. As Billy rolls his spliff, he remembers Susan’s reaction the first time his dad had smacked him upside the head in front of her. It was unmoving, her face stoic and a look in her eye like Billy deserved it. He can’t even remember what prompted it, but that was the glorious thing about Neil’s fists, they didn’t need a reason. Billy could have moved the dish soap in the kitchen a centimeter and that would be enough to set his dad off. So why the hell would he be home when he could be anywhere else?

Absent. That’s what Max called him this morning. Just like his mother, he thought. It was true. Billy was numb to it all. He could be there but not really. Auto pilot, doing what’s expected but without reason behind it. He’s floating through life without real meaning to it. Billy hopes he’ll find something worth living for. Shit, most sixteen year olds have no true passion for life but no other kids have Neil as a father. He’s pulled out of his thoughts when his buddy, Reggie changes the cassette in the boombox. He’s supposed to be having a good time, he reminds himself, not thinking about how bad he doesn’t want to be at home. Billy licks up the side of the paper to seal the spliff, reaching for his zippo and lighting it up. He inhales deeply, letting his eyelids close with the motion as the sharp smoke fills his lungs and immediately relaxes him. Fuck, weeds awesome. Reggie’s been on this New Wave kick and Billy can’t stand it, unless he’s stoned. When he’s stoned, all music is pretty rad. So the Joy Division cassette isn’t the worst he’s heard. It fits Billy’s mood pretty well. He won’t admit it, the goddamn hopelessness of the lyrics hit him square in the chest and make him feel a little less alone.

“The girls are taking forever,” Reggie complains and Billy agrees. He could really use a beer, cotton mouth kicking in far too quick for his liking.

With a shrug, Billy peers over the edge to see if he can get a glimpse of you guys. You’ve been dating a couple months at this point, but you’ve been friends for years. Right after Billy’s mom left and Neil uprooted him from the house they shared to an apartment in the heart of the city. Billy misses that house and that apartment. You lived in the complex and he’d met you while he was graffitiing the apartments playground slide with a sharpie. He thinks he was drawing a crude pair of tits but he can’t remember, knows for sure he’d scribbled his favorite swear words at the time all over it. You guys were eleven years old. You came up to him and asked if you could draw something. You drew a cartoonish dick and right then, Billy decided you were gonna be friends.

Then Neil met Susan a few years later when he was fourteen. They moved quick and got married a month after meeting. He hates moving, so he wasn’t thrilled when Neil and Susan insisted on finding a three bedroom house closer to Max’s school. Luckily, Billy didn’t have to change schools but the house was in a cookie cutter suburb instead of the city. Plus, you weren’t a two minute walk away anymore and Neil got to keep him on a shorter leash.

“Beeeer!!!” you and Cindy, Reggie’s girlfriend cheer in unison as you climb up onto the roof through the fire escape.

“Finally,” Reggie grunts, snatching the spliff from Billy’s fingers and extends his opposite hand for a beer.

“Why are you listening to this depressing shit?” Cindy complains as she hands him an Old Milwaukee, “We’re supposed to be partying.”

“Eh, it’s not so bad,” Billy shrugs as you nestle yourself next to him on the edge of the roof, he wraps his arm around you and accepts the beer you offer.

Cindy gapes, “You’re the last person I’d expect that from.”

Billy doesn’t respond. Instead, he cracks his beer open and looks over the edge of the roof again. He sees a handful of girls stumbling beneath and he wonders if he hawked a loogie down could he hit them and what would they do. Saliva fills his mouth in anticipation but he decides against it. They’re pretty and their reactions probably won’t be all that exciting. He’s confident about his aim, though, figures he could land it on one particular girls’ cleavage. He smirks to himself as he brings the can to his lips and averts his eyes to his friends, looking for the spliff. It’s in Reggie’s hands again so Billy leans over and snatches it.

“Stop bogarting, asshat,” he snaps.

“Relax,” Reggie mumbles, “we tried passing it but you’re too busy checking out the chicks on the street.”

“I wasn’t checking them out,” Billy defends himself.

“Sure,” you sigh next to him before standing up and making your way to sit on the torn up couch Reggie and Cindy are lounging on.

Billy rolls his eyes, taking a hit off the spliff before looking down at his watch. The football game is probably almost over and Neil’s most likely dozing to sleep, drunk off a twelve pack. But Billy doesn’t intend to go home for a while, well after midnight. It’s summer after all. He could probably crash at Reggie’s tonight. It’s a good excuse to spend time with him because usually, Billy has to steer clear of him during the school year. Neil would kill him if he’d seen Billy hanging around a black kid. He’d probably kill Reggie too. In the summer it’s safe, but during the school year, his curfew is strict and Neil would rather Billy hang out at home. He brings friends around sometimes, but never Reggie.

You keep giving Billy an angry look. Max’s words this morning ring in his ears. Absent. Billy knows that’s why you’re mad at him too. You’d had the conversation a hundred times this summer alone. He doesn’t put enough effort into the relationship, you told him. Asked him if he wanted to go back to being just friends. But Billy assured you that he didn’t, promised to do better. He’s always being told he isn’t good enough. By everyone in his life. So much so that he’s gone numb to that too. Figures the least he can do is accept that he’s never going to be what people want him to be. It’s easier that way, anyways. Hard to let it get to him if he just doesn’t give a shit anymore.

The thing is, Billy just turned 16 and Neil’s expecting him to work this summer so you’ll just have to deal. He’s excited to get a job, excited to save up his money so he can get a car. He got his license the day after his birthday, figures by the end of August he should have enough to buy a beater car. Something he can fix up real nice. Something that’s his, proof he can accomplish a goal, proof he’s not such a goddamn waste.

He was supposed to be job hunting today but he didn’t. He got up early enough to surf, got home and showered, put on his fanciest button up that was a hand-me-down from his dad and told him he was off to fill out applications. He got stoned at Reggie’s house and the two of them watched TV for hours until Cindy called. Billy can do it tomorrow. It shouldn’t be too hard to find a job. Maybe he can work at the surf shop. The owner likes him a lot. He’s even talked about Billy becoming a team rider. Billy tries not to get his hopes up about that. Neil doesn’t care for surfing, tells Billy it’s a waste of time. Not a skill for the real world. That’s what Billy likes about surfing though. It drags him far away from reality, his mind can finally relax when he’s catching waves.

He smokes the spliff until it’s a burnt roach, tossing it over the roof and stands up. Pacing around, he ignores the conversation the three of you are having as he focuses in on the buzz from the weed. He can feel the air better, feels like he can breathe better than ever before. He stares up at the moon, admiring how the clouds skate passed it. He lays on the floor, hands behind his head and focuses on the craters he can see in the moon. It’s full and he can kind of see a face in the craters, if he tilts his head it also looks like a little girl with a triangle dress.

Suddenly, he feels a hand on his stomach and he turns to see you, sitting beside him with a curious smile. He returns it with lopsided one of his own.

“Get bored of ‘em?” he asks, softly.

You turn to look at Reggie and Cindy, his eyes follow to see the couple making out.

“Ah,” he purses his lips, “It’s that portion of the party, is it?”

You nod and Billy pats his hips, signaling you to climb into his lap. Once you do, he’s wrapping a hand around your neck and luring you down, lips hovering. You feel his teeth as he smiles before placing a tentative kiss to your lips. It starts slow, lazy from his dazed, stoned state. Billy prefers kissing when he’s high, doesn’t much care for it when he’s sober. But for some reason, in this altered state, it doesn’t feel as gross to him. Billy never tells you he doesn’t like kissing or that he thinks it’s kind of disgusting. When he’s horny enough, it’s not gross and he’ll lick into your mouth all sloppy as long as his dicks inside you. It’s not his foreplay though.

He can hear Reggie grunting and groaning. He doesn’t have to look over to know Cindy’s going down on him. She’s loud about it and Billy doesn’t admit that it turns him on. Billy thinks it must turn you on too because you start grinding your hips against his. Plus, he figures Reggie and Cindy won’t care much if they started it in the first place. Billy always feels a bit strange about the lack of boundaries, the fact that the four of you mess around in front of each other. Figures that you all get it when you can and it’s not often you guys are secluded enough to pull it off.

Billy grabs your hair to pull you away, moving his hands to undo his belt and you get the hint, lifting yourself up just enough to get your underwear off and Billy’s jeans and briefs down to his knees. You hold your skirt up, looking down at his pulsing erection settled against his stomach. He wraps his fingers around the base and spits onto his other hand, smearing it all over the head before lining it up with your entrance. You gasp when you feel him prodding, eyebrows knit together in desperation and Billy loves that. Feels like he’s done something good to make you want him so badly. You slowly lower yourself until he bottoms out and Billy grunts softly, pressing his palms to yours and lacing your fingers. It’s sweet, makes your whole body fill with adoration for him. His eyes are barely open, eyelids looking heavy while his mouth hangs open just enough for you to see his tongue pressing to his bottom lip. A roll of your hips and his tongue rolls against his bottom lip, a lewd moan tumbling out of him that has your toes curling in your shoes. Through all the bullshit he seems to drag you through, you wouldn’t ever give this up. He gets you fired up like no one else could. Billy’s a literal wet dream come to life and you have the fucking privilege of being with him. The slight curve of his cock is practically designed to fit you perfectly, hooking just right to nail that wonderful, spongy part inside of you. But you think you could cum just from looking at him, sometimes. Or hearing his voice.

You bend down to whisper in his ear, “You feel so good.”

He lets go of your hands to wrap his arms around your middle, pulling your bodies flush as he groans breathy against your ear. You press gentle kisses along his jaw, bouncing in his lap over and over. He snakes his hands up your shirt and scratches down your back, arching his own which only buries him deeper inside of you. Deep enough he hits your cervix and you yelp. Billy chuckles softly before easing up, his hands steadying at your hips.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles against the shell of your ear.

“It’s okay,” you reply softly, pulling back to look down at his face. He looks fucked out, totally blissful and all the stress and worry usually living there is gone. It makes your insides turn. You’d give absolutely anything to do that for him all the time. He starts thrusting his hips up at you, his hands holding your hips still so he can take control. He does it whenever he’s close and you’re almost there too so you keep staring down at his face, trying to commit it to memory like you haven’t seen it a hundred times, like you don’t see his face whenever you close your eyes.

Billy’s eyes open slowly and he maintains eye contact with you, his mouth open while pants and soft moans flood out of it. Just the look and sound of him is enough and your orgasm comes crashing through you.

“Billy,” you gasp, thighs shaking against his hips while you involuntarily hump against him.

He smiles then, all lips and no teeth but looking satisfied. You don’t get the opportunity to completely ride through it, he pulls out of you and you’re quick to move down and take his cock in your mouth, eyes wide as you look up at him. He gives a pathetic thrust and clenches his teeth, squeezing his eyes closed as he shoots his load into your mouth. You swallow and pull back, licking up the last of it that dribbles out of his slit. He whimpers and it sends another wave of arousal to your center.

With a sigh, he pulls his pants back on and hands you your discarded panties. You awkwardly pull them back on and reach your hand out to help your boyfriend back up. Billy kisses you softly before wandering over to the sixer and pulling another beer from it. He stands taller now, relaxed and you’re relieved you can help him in some way. Even if it seems like only sex.

Billy and Reggie share a look before the two of them burst out into giggles, Cindy rolls her eyes but immediately shoots you a pleased look. She enjoys it and so do you. Billy makes his way back to the edge of the rooftop, sitting down and lighting up a cigarette. He keeps peering over and it’s making you nervous. You don’t know what he’s thinking but sometimes you worry Billy imagines jumping off. What you don’t expect is to hear the sound of him hawking up a loogie.

“Billy,” you warn, standing up.

Reggie’s standing up with you but with excitement as he stumbles over and peers down with Billy.

Billy spits down and you hear a man from below shouting.

“Billy! Fucking hell,” you scold but your boyfriend is in a laughing fit, holding his gut as the careless sound rips through him.

Absent.

“I’m gonna beat your fucking face in!” the guy from the street shouts up at him.

“I’d like to see you try!” Billy replies.

“Then get your ass down here!”

Billy’s up to his feet, the excitement of violence bubbling through him as he makes his way to the fire escape. He ignores the protests from you and his friends, though the three of you follow him down. Billy chugs the rest of his beer once he’s on the ground, tossing the empty can and puffing his chest up as he stalks over to the guy.

Billy’s in shape, he spends a lot of time lifting weights but that’s not what makes him dangerous. It’s the fact that he doesn’t really give a shit and all the pent up anger from the abuse he faces. The guy he nailed with his phlegm is bigger but Billy doesn’t seem scared. He yells out, fists clenched tight at his sides as they meet face to face. Billy’s grinning wide, he always looks so happy when he’s about to get in a fight. It fucking worries you.

The guy swings first but Billy dodges it and then his fist is connecting with the dudes jaw with a horrific pop. The guy reels, like he wasn’t expecting so much power behind a teenagers fist. He stumbles but is back quick, socking Billy in the face and you wince, knowing that he’ll have one helluva shiner.

Billy laughs, “Is that all you got, fucker?”

Another punch and the guys on the ground but Billy’s on him in an instant, delivering blow after blow to the guys face before Reggie’s pulling him off.

“Fuck!” he screams out, eyes lit up with something that terrifies you. He enjoys this too much. You reach for his wrist and pull, dragging him along as the four of you run down the block. The dudes knocked out but his friends chase after you guys. They’re not fast enough and you lose them after cutting through an alley and ending up in a deserted plot of land. It’s mostly dirt but the occasional construction debris. There used to be a motel here but it’s got plans to become yet another parking lot. Billy screams out again, cheeks split with a devious smile.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” you yell at him, pushing against his chest. He turns to you with that eerie smile and you notice his nose is bleeding.

“That was fucking rad, darling,” he gushes, “I totally knocked his fucking lights out!”

“It wasn’t rad!” you argue, “God damn you’re such a fucking child sometimes!”

Billy laughs, but it’s laced with venom, “And you’re fucking boring.”

The word hits you hard, breaking your heart in an instant. You sniffle, pissed off with yourself that you’re crying so easily. Billy could be mean, to everyone around him. You knew that when you started dating. But it still hurts. You wanted to be an exception to that, but you realize how foolish that was.

“You’re fucking crying?” he scoffs, “Jesus Christ.”

You turn on your heel and start walking, Cindy me Reggie are quick to follow you but when you’re a block away and you turn back, Billy’s not following you. He’s wandered in the other direction.

///.

Billy finds the spare key under the mat and tries his absolute best to keep quiet as he unlocks the door. Susan should’ve got his dad to bed by this hour but he doesn’t want to risk it. He slowly opens the door, stepping inside and unzipping his boots before taking them off and leaving them by the door. He peers into the living room. Shit. Neil isn’t in bed. It’s nearly two a.m., he and Susan must’ve had an argument. Billy closes the door as quietly as he can before turning the deadbolt. He tiptoes to his room, turning the knob cautiously. Once he’s inside, he flicks the light on and starts to undress. He opens his closet and grabs out a pair of grey sweats to change into. As he’s changing, he looks into the mirror, seeing the dried blood under his nose and the beginnings of a gnarly bruise under both eyes. He presses his thumb to the bridge of his nose and hisses. It’s not broken but fuck, it hurts. He sighs. He needs to clean it up. Billy desperately needs a shower but it’s too late. He’d definitely wake his dad.

Carefully, he sneaks out of his room and into the hallway bathroom. He flicks the light on and gets a better look at his face. Billy barely recognizes himself. It’s a problem he’s been having for years. He knows that’s his face staring back at him but he can’t help but feeling like he doesn’t know his reflection. Like the icy blue eyes staring back at him belong to a stranger. He quietly cleans the blood from under his nose but when he opens the medicine cabinet to grab his toothbrush, a slew of pill bottles and soaps fall out of it and land into the sink with a loud clatter. Max had probably haphazardly shoved her things inside. Billy closes his eyes and shuts off the light, steadying his breathing and tries to hear for a sign that he’s woken his father up.

Footsteps, loud ones clamber up the hallway and Billy braces himself. He hates this house, there’s no lock on the bathroom. There’s no locks on any doors besides the master bedroom. The door swings open and the light is switched on. Billy’s met with the angry face of his father.

“What in gods name are you doing at this hour?” Neil asks, tone cloaked in outrage. “Did you just get home?”

“No sir,” Billy replies, voice cracking.

Neil surveys his face, “You reek of pot, boy.”

Billy doesn’t respond to that, just stares blankly at his domineering father. There’s no point. He definitely smells like weed and no matter what he’d say, the next row of actions is a guarantee. Neil shoves him into the towel rack, the edge of it nicks Billy’s bare back and he can feel the blood drip down. He keeps still, looking stoically up at his dad. Neil backhands him, Billy’s face turns with the force of it and Neil grabs his throat, shoving him harder into the rack which just scraps Billy’s back up more.

“You have no regard for anyone but yourself. We’ve talked about this, huh? Respect and responsibility. Simple shit, but you’re too fucking stupid or selfish to learn,” Neil hisses.

His fathers grip tightens just enough where Billy struggles to breath but he knows his dad’s too pussy to actually kill him. He chokes out a sob, can’t help himself even if he knows it’ll only piss Neil off more. Another smack to the face, another shove into the rack and Neil knees him in the stomach.

“You’re crying? You goddamn pussy. Man up!”

From the ground, Billy seethes. He knows this will seal his fate and he’ll be forced into makeshift solitary confinement but he doesn’t give a fuck. He’s overflowing with hatred for the man towering over him.

“Fuck you,” he says behind clenched teeth.

Neil kicks him once more before grabbing a fistful of Billy’s curls and pulling him back to his feet. His dad looks him square in the face before head butting him. The sharp jolt of pain rings through him, his eyebrow feels hot and then Billy feels blood before he sees it when it drips into his eye. Neil drags him by his hair, through the hall and kicks Billy’s door open, the wood slamming into the plaster of the wall and no doubt leaving a hole from the doorknob. He shoves his son into the room.

“You’re goddamn worthless. I give and give but you refuse to fucking be respectful. You’re grounded, I’ll let you out when I can look at you again. Goddamn faggot,” he spits and slams the door back closed, Billy can hear as he fastens the chain lock he’s drilled into the outside of Billy’s door.

Billy holds his sobs, reaching for whatever material is closest to him on the floor and holds the dirty t-shirt to the split in his eyebrow. He falls asleep on the floor like that.

When he wakes up, the t-shirt has fused to his face with the dried blood and he’s reminded of the beating as he peels it off. Except it opens the wound back up and he groans, pressing a clean part of the shirt back to it. His heads pounding, his whole body aches. As he stands up to look in the mirror, he sees the bruising taking place on his stomach and ribs. His face is bruised but not from his dad. He’s too scared to look at his eyebrow, the pulsing pain and blood tells him he definitely needs stitches and he’ll be ending up with a gnarly scar instead. He peers out of his window to see Neil’s truck and Susan’s station wagon aren’t in the driveway but he can hear someone’s out in the living room. His throat burns and his mouth feels like it’s got cotton in it. Glancing around the room, he sees he’s got no water stashed away. Max.

Billy sighs, trudging over to the door and opening it as much as the chain lock will allow.

“Max,” he calls out, voice hoarse and fucking pathetic but his step sister is quick to run down the hall. Billy can see her red hair flying before he can see her blue eyes looking up at him. “Water, can you get me some water?”

She nods and disappears. Billy lays on his bed, closing his eyes while he waits. He hears the stool slam against the floor and he sits up, waiting for Max to climb up it so she can reach the lock. Once she does, she scoots the stool again and opens the door. She hands him the tall glass of water and he gulps it down in record time. He extends it out to her, “More?”

Max nods but she takes longer to return this time. Billy sees why when she’s holding the first aid kid they store under the bathroom sink. Billy gives her a half-hearted smile, she can be a little shit but she does care. It makes Billy feel weird, his initial instinct is to push her away and say he’s fine but he doesn’t. He lets her set the first aid kit on his bed and open it, she pulls out the peroxide and grabs the shirt from his face. She bunches it up against his eye and pours the peroxide on the wound on his eyebrow. It tingles but the sting is dull. She pats it dry before digging through the box for butterfly bandages. They stay silent as she dresses the wound. She’s a smart little fucker, Billy hadn’t even thought about asking for the first aid kit. She stands back and puts her finger against her chin, checking over her work before nodding to herself.

“Quick,” she says, “Use the bathroom before they get home.”

Billy nods, he hadn’t thought of that either. He stands and puts his hand on the top of her head, rustling her hair up. “Thanks, kiddo,” he mumbles before trudging into the bathroom.

As he steps inside, the events from last night flash around in his head but he pushes them away. He lifts the lid on the toilet and relieves himself. When he’s washing his hands he gets a good look at his reflection in the fluorescent lighting. He looks like shit. He aches for a shower but that’s too risky plus he’s not looking forward to the cuts on his back stinging from the water. He dries his hands and makes his way back to his room, where Max is waiting outside the door. Once he’s inside, he can hear her fastening the lock back up and jumping off the stool. Billy decides to tidy his room while he’s stuck in here, pressing play on his stereo so he can drown his thoughts in heavy guitar riffs and Vince Niel’s voice. After his rooms all clean, he shuts off the stereo and looks for a book to read to pass the time. He has no idea how long he’ll be trapped in here. Sometimes it’s a day, sometimes it’s a week.

///.

You haven’t heard from Billy in two days. It’s been two days since your little fight in the field and you’re getting worried. Billy was pretty adamant about you not coming over unannounced but the landline has been giving you nothing but a busy tone every time you try to call. You’re out of options and that’s why you take the bus out into the suburb and walk to his place. Neil’s truck is outside, along with his stepmoms car but you’re determined to check on him.

The wood of the door is warm on your knuckles as you scrap against it. Thankfully, Susan answers the door but her face falls and he looks back into the house before meeting your eyes.

“Billy’s not here,” she says.

“Where is he? I haven’t heard from him in a couple of days,” you reply, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“He’s out looking for a job,” it’s a lie. You can see it on her face. Susan’s a horrible liar, just like Max is.

You chew on your bottom lip before trying your luck, “Bummer. He must be mad at me still. Could I use your bathroom? Long bus ride out here.”

Susan heaves a sigh before stepping back and letting you inside, “Be quick.”

“Course,” you say and start making the descent down the hall.

“He’s not here!” Neil yells after you which causes you to stop, the sound of his voice always makes your skin crawl.

“I know, just using the bathroom,” you reply, eyes turning to Billy’s bedroom door in the hallway. The chain lock is fastened and your heart sinks into your stomach. You know Billy’s been trapped in there for days. He’s never told you this happens to him but when you’d noticed the lock, you connected the dots.

You lock yourself in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror as you try to somehow telepathically communicate with your boyfriend. You so desperately want to call CPS on Neil but the first time Billy admitted his dad hit him, he made you promise and swear that you wouldn’t. Billy assured you he could handle it, that he didn’t want to be stuck in the foster system. I only have 5 more years, you remember him telling you. With a sigh, you finally sit down on the toilet and relieve yourself. It was a long bus ride. After washing your hands, you make your escape.

“Nice to see you, Mr. Hargrove,” you call out to Neil, hoping Billy can hear you and know you’re here.

“Whatever,” Neil mumbles with a wave of his hand.

///.

Once it’s midnight, you figure it’s safe and you stalk over to the window with the black grocery bag tucked tight against your side. The windows have bars on them, you’ve overheard Susan calling them decorative but they’re definitely a safety precaution, to ward off potential burglars. You can’t help but think about the way they make Billy’s room just that much more of a prison. God, if you could save him from this shit you would. This is the least you could do.

The bars are far enough apart that you can reach your arm through it. You quietly knock against it and step back to wait for your boyfriend to appear behind the sheet he uses as a curtain.

Billy snakes himself between the sheet and the window, his eyebrow is slit open and there’s some gnarly bruising under his eyes. You give him a sympathetic smile, lifting the plastic bag. Billy opens the window slowly, careful not to make too much noise.

“Hey, little lady,” he purrs, laying the charm on thick even though he’s a goddamn prisoner in his own fucking house. “What’re you doing here?”

You smile at him, you’ve found it’s best if you act like everything’s normal, “Wanted to give you some goodies and see your face. I miss you.”

“I miss you,” he reaches out and pokes your nose. “Whatcha get me?”

Peeking into the bag, you pull out the Mickey’s 40 you’d purchased and hand it over. Billy moans at the can, grinning from ear to ear. Next you hand him a pack of Marlboro Reds and he gives you another moan.

“Fuck, I could marry you,” he takes the pack and rips it open, lighting a smoke immediately.

You bite your lip, “Do it.”

He chuckles, leaning his forehead against the metal bars, “Maybe one day I will. Then you’ll really be sorry.”

You giggle softly and pull out a pack of sour candies for him. He places them down on his floor and smiles at you, “Think we could manage a kiss through these?” his fingers tapping against the bars.

“We could try,” you suggest, stepping closer and smiling up at him.

You manage to touch your lips to his but it’s wildly uncomfortable and you both strain your lips to do it. Billy sits on the sill and reaches his hand out to hold yours.

“Sorry about the other night… I was being a dickhead but hey,” he motions to his face, “got my punishment for it.”

“Billy,” you squeeze his hand, “You didn’t deserve that. You never do… I don’t even care about the dumb fight we had.”

He shrugs but moves his hand to your chin, stroking his thumb against it, “It’s nothing new. I shouldn’t have come home that night but ya know, I didn’t know where else to go.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have ran off like that…”

“It’s cool, I’ll probably get a sick ass scar from this one,” he points to his eyebrow.

You shake your head but smile at him.

“You really gave it to my old man today,” he grins.

You cackle, “Did I?”

“Oh, yeah! I think the kindness kills him more than if you were to ignore him. How’d you get into the house, though?” he takes a long drag from his smoke before handing it over.

You take it and smile, “I told Susan I had to pee.”

“Oh!” his eyes widen and he disappears behind the sheet again, only to reappear with a Gatorade bottle full of what you can only assume is piss. “I know it’s gross but could you uh, dump this for me?”

You take it from him carefully and hand him back the cigarette, “Why don’t you just piss out the window, Billy?”

“In broad daylight? I can’t,” he says, sounding ashamed as you unscrew the cap and dump the bottle out into the bushes next to you. You screw the lid back on and hand it back through the bars.

“I fucking hate your dad,” you mumble.

“You and me both, babe,” he goes back behind the curtain to put the bottle back. When he returns, he’s got a folded up piece of paper and he passes it to you. “I drew ya something, don’t look at it until you’re far away from me.”

You giggle and slide it into your back pocket, “Can we try another one of those kisses?”

Billy chuckles, nods and you guys attempt it again. When he pulls back, he wiggles his eyebrows, “You could probably suck my dick through here.”

“You wanna attempt that but you won’t pee out the window,” you raise an eyebrow but smile back at him. “I’m not gonna blow you through your window. Nice try though.”

Billy laughs and pokes your nose, “I better get to bed. I’m sure I’ll be released soon enough and I can maybe take you out or something.”

“That sounds nice,” you smile warmly at him.

“A thank you for the necessities,” he holds up the beer and pack of smokes.

I’d do anything for you, you want to say but it dies in your throat. Billy doesn’t really get mushy with you so you’ve been scared to tell him just how infatuated with him you are. Sometimes he’s like a skittish dog and you feel you haven’t completely earned his trust yet.

“Stay safe, Billy.”

“Eh, that’s no fun. See ya later, little lady,” he smirks with the pet name before closing his window.

As you begin your journey down the street, you remember the paper folded up in your pocket and you quickly pull it out. Unfolding it, you see lines but you’re confused. Once it’s completely unfolded you see a crude drawing of a penis. Actually, it looks like Billy’s laid his dick on the paper and traced around it. It’s the most ridiculous and hilarious thing you’ve ever seen and you can’t help the roar of giggles erupting from your chest. The image of him so utterly bored while he’s locked away and getting the idea to trace his hard dick against the paper is the funniest thing in the world to you. God, you adore him.

[mygalfriday]

Things you always meant to say but never got the chance

Coaxed you into paradise and left you there 

{ao3}

Despite the many interruptions, he hopes he has actually managed to salvage the first night of their honeymoon. The unwelcome reminder – in the form of their future selves – of how finite their time together is has only made him more desperate to make this evening perfect. River deserves that and more.

She’d changed despite his insistence she never needed to, exchanging her prison uniform for something flouncy and flirtatious that makes his fingertips itch. She’s close enough to touch but he doesn’t, twirling his top hat between his hands and watching out of the corner of his eye as she helps herself to some more chips. The stars are set to appear any moment now and her gaze is pinned to the sky, waiting for the impressive show he’d promised her.

It’s a marked change from the woman who had been so determined to seduce him in the TARDIS and he fidgets anxiously, secretly wanting a bit of that back but unsure how to get them there. River has always been the instigator and he’s at a loss now that she’s so terribly young and it’s his turn to lead. He grips his hat in one hand and lifts the other to straighten his bowtie, inching a bit closer where they’ve settled on a massive tree branch.

Clearly still as alert to his every move as she’d been as Mels, River glances at him out of the corner of her eye the moment he so much as twitches in her direction. When she notices him hovering, she places a protective hand over her chips and says, “I told you to get your own, sweetie.”

He frowns. “First of all, River Song,” he says, wagging a finger at her and refusing to soften at the way her eyes light up when he uses her name. “I wasn’t trying to steal your chips. And second of all, are you telling me you wouldn’t share? On our honeymoon?”

She whirls to stare at him, blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders and her eyes wide. “Honeymoon?” She laughs once, strained and nervous. “We’re not married.”

He squints at her, fearing for a moment he’d picked up the wrong River. But no, he’d gotten her on her first night in prison – she’d said so herself. So she must have already done Area 52. “Of course we’re married.” He waves a hand, gesturing between them. “There was a bowtie and a kiss-”

River interrupts him in the middle of his kissy-face impression, still eyeing him incredulously. “Yes, where you were a robot. In a timeline that no longer exists. I’ll hardly hold you to it, Doctor.” She smiles when he merely stares at her, the expression somehow unbearably sad despite the softness in her eyes. “You think I didn’t notice in all my research of you how often you get married and swan off, never to see your poor lovestruck bride again?”

“I haven’t swanned off,” he points out, wounded despite the truth of her words. River is different. Surely she knows that. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Of course you are.” She reaches out a hand, patting his bowtie fondly. “I’m the child of your best friends.”

He stares at her. “You think I married you out of guilt?”

“There are worse reasons to get married.” With a shrug, she turns back to the night sky spread out before them and her hand drops from his bowtie to reach for another chip. “But it wasn’t a real marriage, remember? You’re off the hook.”

“River,” he sighs, tugging at his hair. Why is she making him do this? Doesn’t she know he’s rubbish at this? “I don’t want to be off the hook. I want-” Blimey, what does he want? Twelve hundred years old and he still has no idea. He just knows that whatever this is – sitting here, bickering and pretending he doesn’t want any of her chips – he wants every last terrifying moment of it. With her. “I want -”

The sky lights up over their heads, brilliantly illuminated with the glow of a billion stars. It brightens their surroundings like sunlight. Ordinarily, this natural phenomenon wouldn’t be enough to distract him from the issue at hand but River tips up her face to stare at it like she’s never seen anything so wondrous. Her eyes widen and the most beautiful smile bursts to life on her face. It’s a thousand times more distracting than any star has ever been. The Doctor finds himself caught, gazing at her like a new Time Lord staring at his first planet.

Without looking away from the view above, River nudges the plate of chips toward him. A peace offering. The Doctor grins and ignores them, leaning in to press a smacking kiss to her cheek. She swats him, turning her head to seek out a proper snog. He sinks into her with a sigh, fingers finding her wild curls, and doesn’t stop to wonder why he feels like he’s forgotten to say something important.  

-

He knows what he feels. He has known what he feels for far longer than he’d ever admit to any version himself. He hasn’t said the words since he was a young man on Gallifrey, unburdened by loss and the weight of ages. He might have said them once or twice to Susan when she was a child. The point is, it has been so long that the words don’t even feel tangible anymore – nothing but brittle bones and dust taking up space at the base of his throat. He worries if he tries to say them now, nothing will escape but ash.

He isn’t stupid enough to do nothing and merely hope River understands through osmosis but those words aren’t enough. They’re imaginary and ephemeral, easily lost and forgotten in this wide, unknowable universe. So many days he and River will spend apart, separated by space and time – yearning across worlds. He wants River to remember, even when she forgets everything else. He wants River to have more than brittle words.

So he gives her memories. Big, flashy, unforgettable memories that could cast a giant neon sign across the universe in 50 foot capital letters. You. Are. Loved. Stevie Wonder sings it for her under London Bridge; mysteriously inspired poets pen her sonnets; da Vinci sketches her likeness in La Scapigliata. Sunflowers remind him of her and he scatters seeds all over the fields of Spain so every summer people flock there to admire her beauty; he goes back in time and leaves notes throughout history for her to find during her excavations; he takes lessons with Julia Child and Fernand Point so he can make all her favorite dishes. He makes love to her at the start of the universe and the end of it so their love is a bookend to the beginning and the end of everything.

He never asks her if she understands what he isn’t saying. Instead he smiles when she finds another of his surprises and drinks in her laugh when he spins her around another ballroom, hoping she sees it for what it is. Not a showy distraction from a magician, but the last precious coin from a penniless man. All he has to offer. Someday, he might dust off those meagre words humans so love to abuse and see if he can make them shine again – make them pretty enough to deserve her – but for now, surely all this is enough? It must be.

-

Despite her hesitance around them, children gravitate naturally towards River. He thinks it must be the hair. There is no other possible explanation for why they’re all gathered around her when he’s the one sitting by the bonfire introducing these people to the roasted marshmallow about ten thousand years too early. Considering himself a bit of an expert on the subject, he appoints himself the overseer of their technique, teaching the locals how to get the outside nice and crisp without making the insides a gooey mess.

Most of them are understandably fascinated but every time the Doctor looks up in search of his wife, he finds her sitting just to the left of all the excitement and surrounded by a group of tiny humans. A few of them sit at her feet, two sit on either side of her, one stands behind her poking curiously at her hair, and another seems to have made himself a nice comfy home on her lap. To her credit, River isn’t as horrified by all the attention as she used to be when she was younger.

She seems to be telling them all a story, judging by enraptured looks on their faces and the way River keeps leaning in close like she always does when imparting a secret. Unable to conceal his grin, the Doctor puts the nearest villager in charge of marshmallow roasting and slips away to investigate. As he gets closer, the soft murmur of River’s voice becomes clearer until he can make out exactly which story she’s regaling her audience with.

“And of course, because he’s a man he thinks he always knows exactly where he’s going but he never does. None of them do.” She offers them all an exasperated look, as though inviting them to commiserate with her on the hopelessness of men. Every single little girl in the group nods sagely. “Now, who do you think actually found the gemstone and restored the High Chancellor to his natural form?”

One of them ventures confidently, “You did!”

River beams. “And don’t you forget it.”

Shaking his head and biting back a smile, the Doctor folds his arms over his chest and attempts to look cross. “Just so we’re clear, I did know exactly where I was going, River Song. I was… testing you.”

She glances up, apparently unsurprised to find him eavesdropping. “And the part where you twisted your ankle in the mines and I had to carry you for five miles back to the TARDIS?” She smiles innocently. “Was that part of the test too?”

“Yes. No.” He scowls, dropping his arms to his sides. “Shut up. Dear.”

River grins and he leans in, bopping her fondly on the nose. She turns her head coyly away when he tries to kiss her, teasing, “Not in front of the children, honey.”

“Ah. Right.” He turns to their rapt audience, pasting on a nervous grin. “Oi you lot, you’re missing out on all the sweets.” He claps his hands together, watching them scramble to their feet. “Off your pop, before your parents eat them all.”

Only the little one on River’s lap refuses to budge, curled up there like he belongs. The Doctor sighs, giving up on stealing a kiss for the moment as he settles onto the log beside his wife. Elbows on his knees, he peeks at her through his fringe and confesses, “I wasn’t actually testing you.”

River spares him an exasperated glance, preoccupied with the toddler currently clinging to the front of her shirt. “I know, sweetie.”

“And the whole carrying me thing was a tiny bit…” He risks a glance at their tiny audience and whispers, “Sexy.”

She rolls her eyes. “I know, sweetie.”

“Right. Good.”

He thinks about offering to fetch her a marshmallow but the sight of her hesitantly dropping a hand to stroke the little tot’s hair from his forehead stops the Doctor in his tracks. Despite her reticence, she’s a natural with kids. She always knows what to do, even when she doesn’t seem to trust her own instincts. He’s sure her hesitance must come from her own unusual upbringing and the complete lack of parental figures who didn’t have an eyepatch and a villainous agenda but he finds himself wishing she would give herself more credit. She knows what kids need – even if only because they need the things no one ever gave her.

Elbowing her gently, he says, “You’re good with them.”

River scoffs, glancing away. “I’m really not.”

“Could have fooled me.” He shrugs, studying the boy with sleepy eyes still clinging to her. “He seems very fond of you.”

River glances down at the boy, biting her lip. “I probably just look like someone he knows.”

“Someone else with this hair?” He plucks at a curl fondly. “Impossible.”

River swats at him, adorably and uncharacteristically flushed. The Doctor chooses not to mention it, watching in silence the way she cradles the boy to her and bounces him a bit in her arms to nudge him gently to sleep. Not for the first time, he thinks she’d probably make a brilliant mother if she wanted to be. He wonders briefly if she does want it. Maybe she does and just hasn’t said anything. What if he brought it up? Would she want it, if he offered?

Could he offer?

No. Of course not. It’s a terrible idea. The universe would come after any child of the Doctor and River Song. It would hardly be fair to ask a tiny little being to carry the weight and hatred of an entire universe. Besides, their lives are hardly the right environment in which to raise a child – what with the running and the prison and the timey-wimey-ness of it all.

But… if River really wanted it he might consider it in spite of all that. He might even sort of fancy the idea. He can’t ever see himself sitting still long enough to have a proper family life but the image of a miniature version of him and River asking for bedtime stories and refusing to eat their vegetables and begging for another trip to the intergalactic zoo? With anyone else, the very notion would send him running far and fast but with River it’s… Well. He’s grown to like all sorts of things so long as River is involved.

“Matteo?”

The Doctor lifts his head, snapping back to the present just in time to watch a woman – the boy’s mother, probably – lift the sleeping tot out of River’s arms with a murmur of thanks. River nods stiffly, watching the woman cradle her baby and sway with him toward the warmth of the bonfire. The ache of her longing is clear in her eyes.

The Doctor swallows, wanting nothing but for that look to disappear. Wanting her to have everything it’s within his power to give her. “You know, we could-”

“Doctor? We’re out of marshmallows!”

He sighs. “I warned them about rationing.”

River turns to him with a smirk, oblivious to what he’d been about to offer. “I’ll fetch some more from the TARDIS.”

“Thanks, dear.” He finally steals that kiss he’d been after, smiling as she slips away. The courage to ask her what had been on his mind goes with her. He never finds the nerve to bring it up again.

-

After they lose her parents, River spends most of her time in her study writing the book that will start it all. He knows he isn’t strong enough to be of any assistance to her, far more apt to make suggestions like taking the manuscript and pitching it into a black hole, but he also knows River would likely rebuff any offers of help from him right now anyway. She’s avoiding him.

The Doctor can’t blame her. He’s hardly been desirable company in recent days. All these centuries knocking about the universe and he’s still that same selfish old man he’s always been, mourning the loss of his Ponds as though he’s the only one who has lost something. River deserves far better than a selfish mad man like him but apparently she isn’t going anywhere despite his many faults and foibles. It’s this strange, terrible combination of guilt and gratitude, contrition and devotion that finds him standing outside the door to her study holding a cup of tea and listening to the soft click of typewriter keys coming from within the room.

“River?”

Balancing the cup in the palm of one hand, he raps his knuckles softly against the door. The typing doesn’t even pause. He sighs, nudging the door open with his hip and peering inside. The hinges creak but River doesn’t glance up, typing away as though he hasn’t interrupted. Reluctant to intrude on her space without permission after all the things he has said and done recently, the Doctor hovers in the doorway and wraps his fingers around the warm ceramic of the mug he’d brought her.

“I made tea.”

Again, she doesn’t look up from her notes. Pencil between her teeth, she taps her fingers against the keys of her typewriter and says, “Thanks.”

Figuring this may well be the closest he’ll get to permission to approach, the Doctor shoves off the doorframe and picks his way across the floor – careful not to step on the crumpled wads of paper scattered everywhere that River must have tossed in various pits of pique. He settles the mug on the corner of her desk, within reach if she wants it but not so close she’ll accidentally knock it over with an elbow. His job done, he lingers beside her desk uncertainly. She hasn’t asked him to leave but she’s hardly rolled out the welcome mat either.

Squirming, the Doctor touches a fingertip to a stack of field journals and ventures hesitantly, “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” comes the short, clipped reply. “I’ll be done soon and then I’ll go.”

He lifts his head from scrutinizing the contents of her desk, frowning. “Go?”

“Hmm.”

River lifts her glasses from the top of her head, relocating them to the bridge of her nose. Usually the sight of her in them does funny things to his insides but today, he only feels a cold knot of dread beginning to tighten in the pit of his stomach. Why hadn’t he noticed how tired she looks? She isn’t dressed to impress anyone today, wearing a pair of leggings and one of Rory’s old jumpers. He thinks the fuzzy socks on her feet might have belonged to Amy once. Her wild curls are piled on top of her head but keep spilling over her forehead every time she bends to peer at her notes. There are new lines of weariness around her eyes and mouth, a dullness to her gaze he has never seen before. And she still hasn’t looked at him.

The Doctor swallows, inching closer. “Actually I wanted to ask if you were hungry. I could cook…” He brightens. “Or we could have dinner somewhere. Anywhere you like, Professor Song.”

She shakes her head. “I need to get this done.”

He scoffs. “There’s plenty of time to finish it-”

“Not if you want me out of your hair sooner rather than later.” She sighs when he goes still, staring at her in silence. Her eyes remain locked on her half-finished manuscript. “It has to be done now.”

Studying her clenched jaw and the tightly contained way she holds herself – so very still, as though the slightest wrong move might make something explode in her face – the Doctor begins to understand he might have buggered things up quite a bit more than he’d realized. “What makes you think I want you out of my hair?”

Despite her every attempt to appear unaffected, the words slip out with an incredulous huff of laughter. “You mean besides your every word and action in the last week?”

He flinches. “River, no. I didn’t mean-”

She sighs, the bitterness slipping away like it had never been. At times it alarms him how easily she forgives his transgressions. Taking off her glasses and letting them clatter to her desk, River pinches the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes for a moment. Gathering patience, though she probably thinks he doesn’t know what she’s doing. As if he doesn’t know all of her little tells by now, even the ones he pretends he doesn’t see.

“I know you didn’t,” she says, and the sound of her voice is more familiar to him now. Soft. Warm. Forgiving. He really doesn’t deserve her. She lifts her head and finally meets his worried gaze since the first time he walked into her study. The utter lack of light in her eyes scares the hell out of him. “But it’s clear you need space. So I’ll finish the manuscript and I’ll go.”

“Stay,” he insists, bracing himself with his hands against the edge of her desk. He leans in toward her, forcing a smile. “We’ll pay Vastra and Jenny a visit. Or we’ll go to Egypt and see how the pyramids are coming along, eh? Get married again while we’re there – how’s that?”

“Doctor,” she begins, and he hates it when she says his name like that. It sounds like no. “I’m not going to stay just because you don’t want to be alone.”

He pushes off her desk with a low growl. “That’s not what this is.”

“Isn’t it?” The amount of resignation in her patient voice is maddening. “It’s alright, honey. We’ll go our separate ways for a while and I’ll pop round to see how you’re faring after I get back.”

“Back?” Pacing to her bookshelves across the room and preparing to pout a bit and possibly make childish comments about the amount of archeology texts she owns, the Doctor scowls and prods irritably at a scroll wedged between suspiciously authentic looking manuscripts of Macbeth and The Importance of Being Earnest – stolen, no doubt. “Back from where?”

Already sliding her glasses back on and returning her attention to her notes, River mutters absently, “I got an invitation to lead the first expedition to the Library planet. Thought I might go – get my mind off things.”

The Doctor goes cold. That slowly growing and widening knot of dread in the pit of his stomach yawns open like a black hole. He grips the edge of a bookshelf until his knuckles turn white and the wood begins to creak beneath his fingers, threatening to splinter. With his back turned to her, River doesn’t see the way the blood drains away from his face. The way his mouth can only silently form no over and over again until it doesn’t even feel like a real word anymore. It screams in his head anyway, blaring like a siren until it loses some of its power with repetition and he feels just as helpless as he had the day he watched her die.

No.

Not yet.

He just watched an ending unfold right before his eyes. He cannot – will not – do it again. He will not lose another precious person to this goddamned thief called Time. The pain of losing the Ponds is still raw and fresh in his mind, reminders of them at every turn and memories lurking like ghosts out of the corner of his eye. It hurts now; and it always will. He has lost companions before. It always feels like this; like being ripped open and left to bleed out. It heals eventually, despite all his best intentions to cling to his grief. Another scar to bear in his long, lonely life.

But this, he knows, would break him.

“Don’t pout, sweetie,” she says, mistaking his silence for something else. Still typing away like she hasn’t destroyed his whole world. “Far better we have some time to ourselves than stay together and say more things we don’t mean.”

He won’t lose her. The only solution is to change it. The Doctor lifts his head, resolve slipping down his spine like cold steel. Not one line echoes in his head but he pushes it away with a grim smile. “I meant them.”

The typing stops. “What?”

“What I said when we lost Amy.” He doesn’t turn to look at her yet, struggling to school his features into something expressionless and cold – the mighty Time Lord instead of the devastated husband. It’s easier when he can’t see the look on her face. “If you hadn’t told her to go -”

River’s voice grows brittle. “She’d be here and miserable without my father.”

“She’d be here.” Clenching his jaw, the Doctor forces himself to turn from the bookshelf and face her properly. River sits utterly still at her desk, staring at him like he’s a particularly bad dream she’s waiting to wake up from. “And that’s really what it comes down to in the end, wife. If not for you, my Amelia would still be here.”

In the silence of the room, he can hear the hitch in River’s breath.

He directs his gaze elsewhere before he can see her eyes begin to water, glaring at a spot in the carpet instead. His hands tremble and he clenches them into fists, forcing the words out around the lump in his throat. “How can you expect me to look at you, knowing you’re the reason we lost them both? If you’d been quicker or cleverer or just… more. I expected better of you.” He stops when he sees her flinch out of the corner of his eye, unable to bear hurting her for another second with such poisonous lies. His eyes begin to burn and he snaps out, “I can’t wait for you to finish the manuscript. Go now. And take your bloody book with you.”

He stalks from the room before she can say a word and he doesn’t dare look at her as he leaves, knowing the moment he sees her face he’ll drop to his knees and beg forgiveness. So he walks and he walks until his vision blurs and the TARDIS opens a door, letting him stumble into a room at the end of the corridor.

Their bedroom. Of course.

With a growl, the Doctor picks up the nearest thing to hand – one of River’s high heels – and hurls it at the wall. It cracks the plaster and he stares at the split along the wall, his chest heaving and his eyes burning. In the ensuing silence, there is only the rasp of his shaky breathing and the sound of River’s footsteps as she leaves.

-

It’s only standing in his tomb with her ghost in front of him that he understands he had certainly changed things that day in the TARDIS – just not how he’d hoped. River still went to the Library; she still died in his place and wound up trapped in the data core. The only thing he had changed was letting her die believing he blamed her. Believing he didn’t love her.

Cradling her face in his hands, he looks into her eyes and realizes this may very well be his last chance to tell her all the things he’d never had the chance to say to her before. So many of those things seem pointless now. What does it matter that he’d always considered Area 52 their wedding day or that he would have given her children if she’d only asked? What does it matter if he never once blamed her for what happened to her parents or that he loves her so much he chokes on the words every time he tries to say them? It’s too late for any of it to matter now.

She’s gone and he’s looking at an echo.

River doesn’t ask him to say any of those things anyway. She wants something far more difficult to give. A goodbye.

“Say it like you’re going to come back.”

And it’s this – the thing he wants desperately to refuse to ever say – that he doesn’t have the hearts to deny her. Mouth full of lost opportunities and a lifetime of regrets, the Doctor swallows it all back with a smile. “See around, Professor River Song.”

[hargrove-mayfields]

Harringrove April Day 20- Breeze

tw suicidal thoughts / tw suicidal ideation

They say the quarry is the place where all the kids like Billy go to die, the fuck ups and the failures, the lonely and broken ones.

His momma always told him he was special, but he knows now that that’s not true. He’s just another fucked up kid who can’t take the hand he’s been dealt, a punching bag for his father, a bully to everyone else, and he knows too that he was never really meant to be anything more than that.

When the breeze blows in off the water below him, it makes him shiver, feels under his skin like it rattles through him, the hollow shell of who he’s supposed to be.

Because if he isn’t who they tell him he has to be, isn’t that angry boy his peers see, or the scared one his father knows he is, who is he?

He’s nobody is who he is. Just an empty and pathetic nobody.

Billy closes his eyes, pretends that that cool breeze is coming off of the ocean instead of the churning water so many feet below him, imagines hot sand under his feet instead of his beat up old chucks dangling over the edge. He tries to pretend that he’s that kid again, the one who didn’t have to worry about life and the plans he made for it that would never work out.

It doesn’t work, there’s no escaping the pitch dark hole looming over him that’s swallowing up everything that he is, not when he can still feel the jagged rocks in his palms, the burn of cigarette smoke in his lungs, the bruises under his shirt and the cold air that feels nothing like home.

He thinks that that boy would be so disappointed in him.

He used to have dreams. He wanted to be a doctor, a superhero, a football player. But now he was here, considering a drop he’d never survive, and those dreams were teetering on the edge with him.

Still, didn’t he owe it to the kid he used to be to make something of himself? Didn't he owe it to himself to try, and not to jump?

There was a point in time when he would’ve said yes, absolutely he did, but he wasn’t so sure anymore.

He’s been doing this for so long now, it feels like it wouldn’t even matter. Like if he were to just let it happen right now, it wouldn’t make a difference at all, be it to the world or to that goddamned little boy. Would anyone even notice?

Well of course they would, Neil would notice when he ran out of beer and didn’t have anyone to bring him another, Susan would notice when there were no blood stains to scrub out of the carpet, Tommy would notice when he had nobody to bum a ride off of after a party, but would they care?

Max would. When he wasn’t by her side at her graduation or her wedding, missing from every major milestone along the way, she would care. God did he want to be there for her, his little sister.

Steve would too. There was no doubt in his mind about that. He was the boy who said he loved him, and looked past all the things that brought Billy to this very cliff. He’d wake up alone, and have to do all the things they swore on the ring hanging from his necklace they’d do together. Would he do all those things with someone else, or not at all?

Another chill runs up his spine, and he backs away from the edge, like he just realized where he was, which some part of him maybe had, scrambling to get away from it.

That cold, gentle breeze bringing him to his senses is what does it, like a reminder from above that it wasn’t his time, and that he would be missed by at least one someone, were he to let go too soon. That is what gives him the will to fight this, this hopelessness and come out on the other side. To live another day.

He cries, broken sobs and hiccups echoing through the night air, off of the quarry walls down to the water that almost took him, his life reflecting off of inevitable death. Today was not his day.

He goes home that night and gets in trouble for staying out late, and it hurts and it’s not fair, but he’s alive. The taste of copper in his mouth, the sting of an open palm against his skin is the unfortunate proof of that, but either way, he is here, and he has every reason to be.

He hugs Max extra tight that night, and she doesn’t shove him away. She stands on her tip toes and tells him she’s sorry for what happened with Neil, as if he hadn’t almost left her with him. If she had noticed the tears in his eyes when they pulled away, she doesn’t say anything.

The next morning he calls Steve and tells him he’s sorry, even though Steve doesn’t know about what he almost did. He apologizes and tells him he wants to see him again, lets himself get hysterical because he almost never heard the sound of that voice again. And Steve, he doesn’t freak out on him, or tell him he’s insane, he lets him talk about it, listens and understands and feels for him.

And that, that is exactly why he didn’t do it.

Because he’s not empty, or useless, and he’s not just another fuck-up. He is a brother, a boyfriend, and a human being who deserves a goddamned chance at life.

The quarry is a place where many misguided souls had gone to die, and his heart goes out to them, he more than anybody could understand that pain, but Billy did not join them, and every single day that passed, every mile stone of life that he accomplishes, he’s grateful to have made that choice.

To have made the decision to just try a little longer, and open the door to a life of love and happiness, and so much more than what he could see from the edge of that cliff.

[hollygoeslightly]

Charlotte Heywood - All of the Feelings

As Sidney knows all too well, Charlotte Heywood is an easy to love. She’s confident, inquisitive, unfailing kind, willing to stand up for the underdog and always ready to speak her mind. Therefore, it comes as no surprise that the audience was a little confused when Charlotte was the opposite of her usual happy self in 1x07, and appeared hesitant and unsure following the realisation that she’s in love with Sidney. As I’ve already talked about Sidney’s desire for love being the motivating factor behind his actions here, I thought I’d look at why Charlotte’s realisation that she was in love threw her for such a loop.

First of all, I think it’s important to note that for all of Charlotte’s maturity and certainty in her judgement and beliefs, Charlotte is still a young woman. As the eldest of 11 siblings (holy hell, keep it in your pants Mr and Mrs Heywood), Charlotte would have had to grow up quickly and would have most likely spent her formative years as a second mother to her siblings. She may be wise beyond her years, but her trip to Sanditon is the first time Charlotte has left her home and the naivety she has shown in the face of certain situations (Otis’ motivations regarding Georgiana for example), speak to that.

It is also the first time (and for Sidney’s sake, hopefully the last time) that Charlotte has fallen in love. Like Sidney, Charlotte is a romantic at heart. As she told Lady Denham in 1x02, Charlotte believes marriage without love is a “kind of slavery”. As a result, when Charlotte admits that she is in love with Sidney to Lady Susan at the beginning of 1x07, she is treating it as the possible life changing situation could be. Oh, and just to make things extra fun, in 1x06 Charlotte shares an incredibly intimate dance with Sidney where he appears to return her feelings, only for him to completely ignore her following the reappearance of his former fiancée.

It’s little wonder that Charlotte starts 1x07 incredibly confused about where she stands with Sidney. Despite ignoring Charlotte in favour of Eliza at the masquerade ball, once they’re back in Sanditon, Sidney goes back to flirting with Charlotte – asking to wait for her following her visit with Georgiana and teasing her about not exposing the fact that he is “not nearly as unfeeling as [he] pretends”. It’s all very sweet, but then Eliza once again rears her head and Charlotte is thrown firmly back into the position of trying to figure out if Sidney returns her feelings. And it’s position she stays in for the majority of the episode. Sidney is completely thrown by Eliza’s reappearance in his life and his confusion over why he is no longer in love with her and what that all means (I go into further detail about Sidney’s feelings for Eliza and Charlotte here). Unfortunately, Charlotte bears the brunt of his confusion – he flirts with her, shares intimate boat rides, touches her far more than propriety allows and pulls away as soon as Eliza appears.

On top of Charlotte’s confusion in navigating her relationship with Sidney, is the fact the Eliza plays directly into Charlotte’s insecurities. From her reaction to Trafalgar House and Sanditon House (Lady Denham’s estate), it is obvious that Charlotte has never visited houses so fine. Yet the difference is social standing between Charlotte and Sidney doesn’t really come into play until 1x06 in London at the masquerade ball, where Charlotte is faced with Sidney in his “natural habitat” and realises just how different their two worlds are.

“I am certain that I don’t belong in this company.”

Charlotte again makes mention to their perceived difference in social standing when Sidney asks her to dance.

Charlotte – “You did not have to ask me you know, out of politeness” Sidney – “It’s what people do at dances is it not? Dance? Unless you’d rather not?” Charlotte – “No, it’s only there are so many other ladies here you could ask.”

Despite Sidney’s assurances that Charlotte is “more than equal to any woman here”, when Sidney abandons Charlotte’s side for the incredibly rich, connected and elegant Eliza, such reassurance falls quickly into doubt.

So Charlotte spends 1x07 uncertain of Sidney’s feelings, as well as comparing herself to Eliza – no wonder the happy, confident and assured Charlotte we all know and love is nowhere to be seen. To make matters worse, Sidney then makes a badly worded joke and Eliza, sensing blood in the water, goes in for the kill. When Sidney and Charlotte initially talk about the Heraclitus’ quote (Heraclitus is an ancient Greek philosopher – not average reading for the majority of young women as classical studies were considered the domain of men) “you cannot step twice into the same river”, it is obvious that Sidney is both impressed with Charlotte’s knowledge, and unsurprised that Charlotte would be reading up on ancient philosophers in her spare time. Sidney’s intention with the joke is not to shame Charlotte, but bond with her, both of them outliers, in light of Eliza’s increasingly petty comments. Heraclitus is a shared interest, yet for those unaware of Charlotte and Sidney’s previous conversation, Sidney’s comment appears to make fun of Charlotte’s marriage prospects (who would want a wife that reads about philosophy!). Eliza’s comment about Heraclitus not helping Charlotte’s marriage prospects is a way to degrade Charlotte in Sidney’s eyes, while also neatly telling Charlotte that Sidney is out of her league.

“You’re right Mrs Campion. I’m a farmer’s daughter who reads books. What could I possibly have in common with anyone here?”

Again, as a reminder, Charlotte has spent the day uncertain of Sidney’s feelings, feeling increasingly less than the elegant Eliza, and now Sidney appears to have made a joke at her expanse, and Charlotte takes this as confirmation. Not only confirmation that her love of Sidney is unrequited, but confirmation that he thinks so little of her, because she compares so unfavourably to Eliza. It’s incredibly similar to Sidney’s defence mechanism – hurt them before they can hurt you. Charlotte was simply waiting for Sidney to confirm her doubts, so she could shut him out and prevent her heart from becoming even more bruised. After all, in her conversations with Lady Susan and Young Stringer, hadn’t she already conceded that her feelings were hopeless? Sidney’s joke provided Charlotte with the chance to attempt to put an end to her feelings for Sidney, knowing that he would leave Sanditon and marry Eliza.

When Sidney runs after Charlotte to apologise, he is genuinely at a loss to understand why Charlotte is so upset. Yes, Eliza’s comment was cruel, but Sidney has seen Charlotte endure far worse with good humour (ahem, Lady Denham). He doesn’t know how to rectify the situation in the face of Charlotte’s tears, because Sidney has spent the day wrestling with his own feelings, unaware of the impact he has had on Charlotte. So when Charlotte asks Sidney what he wants from her, she unknowingly provides the push Sidney needs to own up to his lack of feelings for Eliza and his love for Charlotte.

With the back and forth with Sidney, her belief that Sidney could never love her – especially with Eliza back in his life – it’s little wonder that the Charlotte Sidney faces at the end of episode is incredibly closed off. She is a young woman who has fallen in love for the first time and has just had her heart broken for the first time. She is bruised and a little battered, and trying desperately to protect herself from further hurt. By this time, Sidney has realised the mess he has unwillingly made. And so when he seeks her out, he makes sure Charlotte understands – Eliza doesn’t compare to her – the person with whom he is his best and truest self.

[thenameofaslan]

TNOA’S 100 Verse Challenge - 59/100

Psalm 18:28b “My God turns my darkness into light.”

For several hours, they’d been drifting. The wind was tugging the Splendour Hyaline towards Cair Paravel, but at a pace far too slow for Susan’s liking. She was normally much better at remaining calm in stressful situations—a side effect of growing up with Peter, whose temper often required a steady hand and a cool reserve to keep it at bay—but this time it was different. She tossed and turned for what seemed like hours before giving up. She left the still-battered Corin in the cabin asleep and went up on deck.

It was a dark night. Clouds covered the moon. Their presence had been a blessing from Aslan earlier, when they had feared the Calormenes’ pursuit, but now, when she would have wept at the first sign of dawn, it was eerie and cold. It reminded her too much of another cold, seemingly hopeless night.

Susan shivered, rubbing her arms. The ship seemed cloaked in a fog, and the deck was providing no relief, save for its being a bigger area to pace. She was not alone, however, and she squinted through the gloom at the other lone figure.

“Edmund? Is that you?”

The figure stirred and moved closer and Susan felt a mixture of disappointment and relief that it was not her younger brother on the deck. Edmund would likely worry over her wakeful state and try to herd her back to bed. Edmund was worse than she herself was when it came to mothering, sometimes.

“Ah, Captain,” she said, nodding to him. “Good evening….er, morning, I suppose.”

“Closer to morning than evening, though it’s hard to tell in this fog,” he agreed. “Near dawn, I’d say,” he added, squinting at his pocket-watch.

Susan joined him at the rail, still keeping a modest distance between them. She did not know the captain well—Edmund had insisted he was perfectly capable of steering them down the coast—but she did not feel it would be right for her to ignore him.

“Trouble sleeping, Majesty?” the captain asked after a pause.

“I do not sleep well when fleeing for my life,” she answered, a bit of steel in her voice.

“Of course,” he apologized. “Forgive me, Majesty.”

They did not speak for several moments, enjoying a somewhat comfortable silence. Susan stared so hard at the blackness in front of the ship that her eyes began to ache.

“Will we be there soon?” she asked.

“Aye,” the captain responded. “Hopefully this fog will lift. I’m surprised we haven’t rammed the docks by now.”

Susan arched an eyebrow.

“We’re that close?”

He nodded, brow furrowing as he stared into the darkness ahead.

Oh Aslan, Susan thought, feeling strange tears prick at the corners of her eyes. If you get us through this, I will never accept another suit again, never ever ever! Just get us home!

Her fingers drummed the railing as she continued to send silent prayers to the Lion. It was too dark! She felt an unqueenly panic rise in her, as if the darkness were about to crawl over the railings and wrap itself around her.

She blinked, and then frowned, leaning forward just a bit. Was it her imagination, or did the blackness ahead suddenly look a bit…grayer?

“Captain?” she murmured, not taking her eyes off what appeared to be growing light.

She heard him mutter something and then he was dashing away, bellowing orders to the half-awake crew. Bells began to ring and folk were running about behind and around her, but Susan didn’t take her eyes off the light.

At last, at last, they broke through and Susan almost sobbed aloud as the crew rushed to tie the sails—they were half a league from the docks and were in danger of running aground.

The white stone walls of Cair Paravel seemed to shine in the bright sunlight, and Susan could almost imagine Lucy seeing them and rushing down to greet them. Perhaps she was…

“Su?”

She at last turned as Edmund appeared, his dark hair tousled. He looked more alert than someone who had just awoken, and Susan wondered if he had simply been tossing and turning in the privacy of his own cabin. His sword was buckled on and he looked grim-faced.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Susan asked, returning her gaze to the castle.

“Lovely,” Edmund muttered, and she glanced over to see him stifling a yawn. She couldn’t help the unladylike giggle that came out and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

Thank you, Aslan.  

[pastelbatfandoms]

Get to know my character

Taking this for My Stranger Things OC!

01. What does your character’s name mean? Did you pick it for the symbolism, or did you just like the way it sounded? I just like the way it sounded. Plus when I thought of Billy I thought of Mandy from The Cartoon lol Her Full name is Amanda Leigh Moorington. Which I half got from Mandy Moore’s name half got from Steve’s last name. 

02. What is one of your character’s biggest insecurities? Are they able to hide it easily or can others easily exploit this weakness? Her Temper,Her Pride,Her general Insecurities. I can say Mandy is able to hide it better in public and with The Popular Crowd then in Private or around Max,Billy and Steve. 

03. What would be their favorite physical trait about themselves? They’re hair (which has been Brown,Red and Blond) Probably her lips too,Steve says they’re perfect for Kissing and Billy thinks they’re perfect for well...other things ;)

04. What are their favorite traits about their lover? (one psychological and one physical)  Have you seen Billy and Steve? I mean ♥ 

Starting with Billy,Mandy initially fell for him because not only was he hot but he litterly saved her. Twice. But who can ignore that Charm and Sexual Magnitude for long...Plus that Butt! When they first met in California Billy had short hair so it took awhile for her to adjust to the new long curls.But She finally did when she realized that Billy liked it when Mandy played with his hair. Billy even allowed her to braid it into a Rat Tail once but it didn’t end up good. (It was a Rat Tail though so...) 

Personality wise even though Billy can be a prick,Billy’s Private emotional and Caring side outweighs their many Jealous fights in Mandy’s eyes. 

Physically Mandy loves Steve’s hair,I mean who doesn’t?! plus with those caring eyes and preppy but cool fashion sense,If Billy is An 80′s Heartthrob of The Bad Boy variety,Steve would be The Main Popular Boy turned Hopeless Romantic. Plus he’s got killer dance moves lol

 Mandy has liked Steve since Childhood growing up in Hawkins,so She was immediately drawn to him. She prefers him better now though as he is done trying to be Mr Popular Cocky guy and is more Sweet and a dork in public. She also loves how Protective he is with The Kids in their neighborhood. 

05. Are they sexually confident or more of the shy type? Mandy used to be not really Shy but not super confident either,until she moved to California. 

06. Do they have any hobbies that their lover finds unusual, odd, or otherwise annoying? No I don’t think they really pay attention to that. tbh. Steve hates when she smokes though,reminds him of when he tried doing it to be cool. 

07. Is there a catchphrase or sound that they tend to make a lot (likely without being aware of it)? Well Billy can make her make lots of sounds ;) sorry he’s a Perv :p lol No,there’s not.

08. What is, perhaps, their biggest flaw? Are they aware of this or oblivious to it? Mandy would have to be seriously delirious and in denial to not realize she has/had a Drug problem. Also her flirting with other guys in front of Billy would be a flaw too I think,but Billy does it too so...

09. Do they have a favorite season? What about a favorite holiday? Mandy really likes Summer because that’s when she can strut around in her best Bikini when Billy is on Lifeguard duty also when her and Steve can sneak quickies when he’s on lunch break at The Mall. I don’t think she really has a favorite Holiday,maybe Valentine’s Day. 

10. Is your character more feminine or masculine? A bit of Both,she loves being Sexy and wearing makeup,being a Cheerleader but she also just likes lounging around the house,also she can dish it out as good as she takes it. 

11. What is something that would make your character fly into a rage? Billy’s Dad abusing Billy,because then it’s usually taken out on her, unless Billy is feeling unusauly emotional that time then he’ll just let her hold him while he cries. When either of them take it on Max.

12. Is there some particular talent, skill, or attribute that they simply could not give up? Her Book Smarts and her Crossbow Skills,have to fight those Demi Gorgons somehow. 

13. What are your character’s sleeping habits? Heavy or light sleeper? Light sleeper definitely,unless she’s at Steve’s. 

Blanket stealer? Only when she sleeps with Steve lol

One that always rolls onto the floor? Pushes their lover onto the floor? Sleep talker or walker? No,Billy is though. 

14. Do they live alone or with family? How do they feel about their family/roommates? Well...Mandy grew up with just her Parents but awhile after moving to California they died coming home from a business trip,Mandy was already dating Billy at that point and was like a Big Sister to Max so They asked if she could stay with them. despite the combustible home life Mandy moved in. Mainly because she had no where else and she loved Billy and wanted to keep Max safe. Despite she herself not being. 

Mandy has no respect for the Parental Guardians of the house though,she listens to them when she has too but otherwise She thinks Neil is just a terrible person and Susan isn’t much better. 

15. Is there a certain person in this world that they cannot stand? The very mention of this person’s name makes them tremble with anger or fear. Billy’s Parents. 

16. Is your character the athletic type or more of a couch potato? What are some sports/games that they like? Besides Cheerleading and Dance no. Mandy prefers reading to watching TV though,but Billy can convince her to watch Pro Wrestling with him. 

17. Does your character have dreams of getting married and/or having children? Maybe. Mandy is still a Teenager so that is still,thankfully,aways away. Steve is definitely Marriage material and great with Kids. Billy she’s not sure about,but he could definitely surprise her. 

18. What kind of home would they want to live in? Where would they place this abode? Any place but her current situation. Mandy would have loved to leave with Billy and Max back to California. 

19. Would your character be the kind to get into fights? (physical or verbal) Would they be a good fighter or cave in rather easily? OH YES. Mandy has always been one to stand up for herself and vocalize her feelings,sometimes not in the best way. Mandy has had to become good at defending herself,she only caves in private when it becomes too much for her to handle,emotionally. 

20. Does your character like animals? What are some of their favorite animals? Would they want pets? What about mythological creatures? Yes,Billy wants a Big Dog and Steve wants a Cat. Mandy likes both lol

21. What is one of your character’s biggest fears? How would they react when dealing with this fear? Mandy has already dealt with her biggest fears,losing her Parents then Billy. (SPOILERS,GO WATCH ST SEASON 3)

22. What kind of tattoos, piercings, birthmarks, freckles, and other such unique physical features do they have? Besides what I mentioned previously Mandy doesn’t have any other unique features. Surprisingly Mandy doesn’t have any tats or Piercings (besides her ears.) 

23. What is your character like when it comes to school? What subjects are they good/bad at? Do they get in trouble a lot or are well behaved? Mandy used to be very good in school,was a talented Writer and had to keep her grades up so stay on The Squad. Until she started Dating Billy,she has sense rectified that. 

24. In their own words, how would your character describe what their lover is like? in Mandy’s words: “Steve Harrington is Sweet,Funny,great at comforting me when I’m down,The voice of reason when I’m falling apart,He was My Childhood Crush for a reason,he doesn’t hide his feelings and is very Protective over everyone,regardless of his well being,which is why I love him.  

”Billy Hargrove is almost the complete opposite. Billy is Charming,Dangerous,Controlling at first,Hot tempered,Jealous but a flirt. Billy is also Charismatic,Emotional,Strong yet Vulnerable. I’ve seen his softer,gentler side that cares if I’m upset or feels bad for hurting me and I think that’s why I still love him. We do enable each other’s Vices though,but Billy hates when I do hard Drugs. 

25. Is there something traumatic from your character’s past that greatly affects them even to this day? Besides her Parents Death,I would say Billy’s Death was very hard on her,until Eleven let her talk to him from the other side and Mandy was finally able to move on. 

26. What is their lover like sexually? How do they feel about their lover’s quirks, needs, etc?  Physically Steve is very attentive and affectionate, Romantic,I thought he might be a bit too safe until I called him Daddy once...” 

As for Billy our love is all consuming,sometimes very Rough,sometimes very Passionate,sometimes were Sober sometimes were not. Billy is very into PDA and not afraid to let others know I’m his girl and Vice Versa.

27. If your character was going to get arrested, what would be the most likely reason for it? Stealing something like Alcohol or doing drugs. 

28. If your character became a celebrity, what would they be famous for? Writing or Acting. 

29. What is one of the most courageous things your character has ever done for a loved one? Stood up for them and to them. Almost getting killed fighting a Demi Gorgon. 

30. When it comes to the arts (music, film, theater, etc), what does your character like? She prefers writing poetry,or essays. Reading Fashion Magazines in public and Romance or Teen Drama Books in Private. Mandy’s Favorite Book and Movie is Valley of The Dolls. Later on her favorite Movie becomes Heathers. She loves Hair Metal Bands like Poison,Ratt and Bon Jovi also Jerry Lee Lewis (because he’s Steve’s favorite) If she hadn’t met Billy, Mandy would have seriously become a Groupie. 

31. Would your character be the kind capable of killing? Would they enjoy killing or only use it when necessary or, perhaps, refuse to kill no matter what? Not unless they’re Monsters. 

32. If your character’s lover offered to take them out on a dream date, what would they want to do? Steve would probably take her to the Movies and then Ice Cream after,maybe The Fair if it were in town,winning her a stuffed animal,they would then go back to his place and go Skinny Dipping in the pool. 

Billy would take her driving in his Comero they would take a road trip to California,stopping to have Sex in the back seat on the way over,They would hang out on the Beach and Billy would teach her how to Surf,they would make love on the sand and then spend the night in a Hotel eating take out,drinking and maybe Partying the next day.  

33. If your character wanted to be alone, where would they go? Her Room with The Door locked. Or The Library,no one would think to look for her there.

34. Does your character have favorite foods? (breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, snacks, etc) Waffles!

35. Is your character afraid of death? If they got to choose how to die, how would they want to go? Not so much anymore,Mandy’s pretty Fearless but she always thought she’d die at the hands of a loved one. 

36. Does your character have any medical conditions? Are they serious or minor? Do they affect their day to day life? Not really. Though Depression and possibly Bi Polar? yeah. 

37. What are some of your character’s pet peeves? What are some things that annoy them or disgust them? Billy flirting with older Women,Steve acting cool to keep up appearances. 

38. What kind of weather does your character like? Cloudy skies, rainy days, sunshine, etc? Rain or Sunshine doesn’t matter much to her. But she hates Snow. 

39. When people look at your character, is there some assumption they might make about them just by appearance? Is that assumption correct? A Bitch,A Snob,Slut,Lost Cause,Burn Out,Nerd. (When younger) all of which Billy would kick the shit out off A person for calling her. 

40. Does your OC have any guilty pleasures they enjoy? Hobbies, past times, music, etc that they wouldn’t want known by others? Reading actual Books lol Mandy also wants to appear tougher on the outside then she actually is on the inside. Also doesn’t want anyone in California knowing about her past in Hawkins.

41. Does your character’s family affect your character in any way? Um No Duh,When you live with Assholes and your real parents were mostly absent off working....you tend to develop an Independence and thick skin at an early age. 

42. Is there anything in your character’s past that they regret, haunts them, or they wish they could change? Billy finding out about her and Steve. Not being able to save Billy.

43. Does your character have a switch that changes aspects of their personality whether they are around friends, family, etc. Is there someone who gets to see their true self? At times. Mandy is definitely more ON in front of the more popular kids in Cali and wants to appear more carefree and wild while in Hawkins. Only Billy,Max and later on Steve get to see her with her guard down. 

44. Is there a particular event that would emotionally devastate your character? Already happened. 

45. Is your character the kind to hide their true emotions or do they wear their heart on their sleeve? Both. 

46. What is some random affectionate thing that your character always does to their lover? Mandy likes playing with both Billy and Steve’s hair while sitting on there laps. 

47. Is your character outgoing? Would they be the leader of the friend group, or the quiet one that gets dragged along? Depends on the group but she’s definitely come out of her shell more now. 

48. Is there anything in particular that would ignite your character’s jealousy? Or does your character not get envious? um BILLY,we’ve already went over the fact that they Flirt to make each other Jealous. Mandy also dislikes Nancy because of the way she Broke up with Steve. 

49. What is something that your character has nightmares about? Are these frequent? Do they heavily affect your character’s mood? Mandy used to have Nightmares about her and Billy fighting,especially after he found out about her and Steve. Also had Nightmares about The Mind Flayres when Billy was possessed by one.

50. If your character confessed love to their crush, boyfriend, girlfriend, etc, what would they say?

I took this as how The Crush would react so,I’ll start with Billy. Mandy would have waited for Billy to tell her he loved her,in fear of being rejected,once he did,in that same cocky tone,but softer and in private,she would smile in contentment and tell him she loved him back.

With Steve it took awhile for her to tell him she loved him back,mainly because of Billy finding out,once she finally admitted her feelings though Steve would definitely be relieved and over joyed,he would probably pick her up and kiss her.

[wordswithkittywitch]

Sam Vimes & Sybil, Cassette Futurism ?

Okay, in my head Vimes is always “Bald Black Leader Guy”, but putting him in Cassette Futurism just makes him do this twice as hard, you realise that?

Message me a character & “ -punk” subgenre And I’ll write an AU Drabble

       Sam Vimes hated his computer. He didn’t like hating most things, not that it ever stopped him, and there was a small part of him that was disappointed when he hated people being brought in again and again for the same petty offences and began to hate the people instead of the endless cycle both him and the criminals were part of.

       But this–this huge beige block of irritating reminders of reports he had not and did not intend to file–he hated. It was supposed to help him organise the various reports the precinct created in its work, but police captain Vimes, “Blackboard Monitor” (a nickname given to him by younger policemen who saw his total lack of concern in erasing confusing case maps) was a person whose very presence lent itself to disorder that his desk was completely covered in dangerously tall and uneven stacks of badly-labeled cassettes like a miniature version of the grey and beige glass city the police station was smack dab in the middle of. Slowly, carefully, a bacon sandwich was added to the top of the lowest stack. Vimes looked up, and his expression softened.

       Her suit was as beige and boxy as the computer, and her huge square glasses made her eyes glitter like a flickering screen. She smiled at him, the warm knowing smile he was so hopeless against not mirroring when he saw it.

      “Sybil. What are you doing here?”

      “Ct. Ironfoundersson called me,” she explained, moving a box of files off of the other chair in her husband’s office. “And I’m glad for it. It’s 5:50.”

       His eyes went wide. His brain was trying to figure out how he was going to cross the city in ten minutes, particularly as his office was on the eighteenth floor and the penthouse his wife had bought them both as a wedding present was on the thirty-ninth. He could save some time getting out if he just dropped out of the window of his office–Sybil seemed prepared for this. She took a large plastic block out of her purse, pulled out its antenna, and dialled their home number.

      “Susan,” she addressed the babysitter by her first name, which Sybil could get away with by simply being Sybil, “Can you put Sam on the line? Sam wants to talk to him.” Sybil handed Sam the phone. He didn’t need the book. He memorised it by now.

      “Are you sitting comfortably?” he asked, smiling at his wife. The other end of the call squeaked as their son bounced into his bed excitedly. From the amplified sound of his breathing, Vimes could tell young Sam was cradling the phone like a teddy bear. “Then we’ll begin. ‘…where’s my cow? Is that my cow? It goes ‘baa’…’ ”

[missbcnes-blog]

nathalie emmanuel. cis female. she/her. ┇ is that AMELIA BONES ? i heard that they worked as a MEMBER OF THE WIZENGAMOT and were a alumni of the HUFFLEPUFF house and sides with the NEUTRALS. they remind me of ( the scent of fresh vanilla, wild curls falling in front of dark eyes, the sweetest laugh you’ve ever heard, potted plants dangling from the ceiling and covering every surface, drunken professions of love, the cool blue glow of moonlight through a window, the click of heels against marble floors. ). on their very best days i can tell that they’re UNBIASED and SWEET, but they also are very CARELESS and AVOIDANT. ( as loved by madi, 23, she/her, est. )

i’m madi and this is amelia!! drop this a like if you wanna plot ♡ ♡ ♡

Major Details

Amelia grew up in a very safe, warm, and benevolent environment. The Bones family was among one of the most respected wizarding families, but they kept their feet on the ground, unlike other wizarding families with their noses stuck in the air. Her family was close and comforting to one another, and she had a uniquely special bond with her two siblings.

However, despite her family being well-rounded and supportive of Amelia, she was a bit of a rebel. She was no stranger to sneaking out at night (either at home or Hogwarts) and getting into all kinds of mischief. When people meet her, it’s hard to not become friends with her. She tends to find the best in people, especially those who she disagrees with most. Some of her closest friends at Hogwarts were Slytherins, who often convinced her to take more risks and get into all kinds of trouble with them.

Amelia had a talent for dueling, and dreamt of becoming an auror. She was even planning to intern as one after she graduated Hogwarts, but after a family member experienced a great injustice by the hands of the Ministry of Magic, she felt the need to go into politics instead. Her unbiased nature made her a perfect member of the Wizengamot, and because of her, even the most hopeless of convicted witches and wizards were proven innocent of crimes they didn’t commit. However, Amelia has proven more than a few powerful wizards guilty of heinous crimes they would typically buy their way out of, which has made her a great deal of enemies in and out of the courtroom.

Although she finds a lot of joy in her job, she still itches for the excitement that only an auror can experience. She can’t help but feel jealous whenever she sees them roughed up after a duel with a dark wizard, or finally capturing a fugitive after months of chasing dead ends. Because of this, Amelia can exhibit some reckless behavior from time to time.

Her neutral stance in the Wizarding War is not one out of indecisiveness. She completely disagrees with Voldemort’s and the Death Eater’s belief system, but does not want to associate with the vigilante nature of The Order, despite their ties with the Ministry. She wants Voldemort and his followers to be punished to the full extent of the law, since that was what it was created for in the first place. Amelia is often tempted to join The Order whenever another auror is killed, or when another innocent family is eradicated, but she always reminds herself that law, order, and justice are the true answers to peace

Minor Details

Although she never wanted to make a career out of it, she loves Herbology. Her flat is full of potted magical plants and resembles more of a greenhouse than a habitable space.

She often got into a lot of trouble at school, such as falling asleep in class, sneaking out at night to parties by the Black Lake or in the Forbidden Forest, etc.

There have been two assassination attempts on her but they both failed.

Sometimes she goes to pubs late at night to eavesdrop on rumors spreading about the war.

She has a white Exotic Shorthair cat named Winter.

Possible Connections

Siblings- she has two siblings; Edgar and another unknown (who is the eventual parent of Susan Bones). Amelia was extremely close to them growing up so having them around would be amazing!

Best friends- she gets along with pretty much everyone, so!! Order members, neutrals, maybe even a death eater or two that she used to be friends with at Hogwarts. That could be an interesting source of tension!!

Exes- Amelia has had her fair share of ex boyfriends/girlfriends/lovers. Nobody has ever really stuck, and she never mourns the relationship for too long before moving onto the next.

Enemies- she can be pretty unpopular in the Wizengamot. She’s put away her fair share of Death Eaters to Azkaban, so if anybody could see themselves hating her/fighting her, hmu!

[voxxisms]

vox likes susan as a person. she reminds him of his family i imagine, growing up, this figure of opinion && held - over - your - head approval. she's the type of person vox really tries for to please && is pretty good at it. she has a lot of opinions about him && his love life, but he visits her weekly in cannibal town.

[maria-az]

Queen Susan the ...LOST?!

When C.S. Lewis commented on Susan's fate he said: "The books don't tell us what happened to Susan. She is left alive in this world at the end, having by then turned into a rather silly, conceited young woman. But there's plenty of time for her to mend and perhaps she will get to Aslan's country in the end... in her own way."

And while people have different opinions considering Susan's fate, I think they didn't really understand the situation.

As we learn in The Last Battle, the reason Susan wasn't with the friends of Narnia was that she believed that Narnia was just a fantasy they made up as kids and the evidence of that is what Eustace quoted her saying :"What wonderful memories you have! Fancy you still thinking about all those funny games we used to play when we were children,". However, I don't think she just lost her belief in Narnia like that, just for no reason. I think that it was her way to adapt to the fact that she'd no longer go to Narnia.

Like all the Pevensies, Susan considered Narnia as her home, and it was really hard to learn that she wouldn't go their again because she became "too old", so she decided to grow old. Susan was the weakest in the Pevensies, not in terms of physical strength, but spiritual strength. She was the last Pevensie to believe Lucy when she said she saw Aslan. So, when she tried to grow old, she started feeling Narnia was for kids, but it always hurt her, so she tried to forget to ease the pain of longing. She tried to convince herself Narnia was just a children's fantasy; she tried to grow beyond that, so she started observing what grown up women do, and tried to act like them.

Make-up, parties, dresses and handsome boys were all what girls her age were interested about, so she tried to be like them, although she's way older and wiser; she's the Gentle Queen, but she was lost. And although Polly and Jill blame her for her new interests, and lifestyle, I don't think that this is what Lewis meant by "a rather silly, conceited young woman" wasn't a normal teenager on young adult (she was just 21). I think that her silliness was her attempts to forget Narnia, her attempts to use her new interests and lifestyle to cover her memories of Narnia. And as for her being conceited, I think he meant her excessive pride that made her so mad for being "too old for Narnia" which made her try to grow old. It made her want to grow old as Polly said, and that was how she thought she'd grow old.

I don't think that teenage stuff are the reason Susan fell. She was lost, pained and weak; she needed help instead of criticism. Susan never really healed from the heartbreak of leaving Narnia for good. She couldn't find support and didn't really find Aslan in her world. Maybe because she didn't understand him, maybe she didn't want to try finding him because she felt hopeless; there's a number of reasons.

I think that after her family's tragic death, Susan will find her way to Narnia. I think that maybe Aslan might even try helping her find Him. I don't think He gave up on her. Maybe it's just a trial, a way to remind her of who she was, a way to redeem her, to help her find her way. Aslan redeemed Edmund, so why not Susan? I think He will, she just needs time, and what makes me feel it's likely is the fact that she's still alive although her entire family died; it has to mean something, right?

I don't know if this was how C.S. Lewis thought, but he never continued the story or explained it much, so I'd like to think that way. Being interested in stuff that all girls her age were interested in wasn't what made Susan fall, it was the way she did it and the hidden reason behind it (at least, I like it better that way). I believe she'd be redeemed just in the right time and the right way.

One day she wouldn't be the Lost Queen anymore, she'd be the Redeemed Queen: Queen Susan the Gentle, Queen of Narnia. One day, she'd find Aslan again.

[thenameofaslan]

Hey, The Name of Aslan followers! 

Currently we stand at 7 members, and to keep things unique, instead of using existing character names, we will be going by Narnia-inspired names we created ourselves! Our names are Veriele, Ailora, Gianah, Astriella, Haaven, Lailenah, and Elledia. Allow us to introduce ourselves! Below we will be sharing some facts about ourselves & our interest in Narnia. 

Hello! I’m Veriele!

Favourite book:

My favourite book tends to change a lot. Of course The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is a classic, and in and of itself it’s possibly the most magical story of the 7. However, I also love The Magician’s Nephew for the beautiful creation of Narnia it shows us. Then The Horse and His Boy really stands out from the other books, and I love the characters and their growth so much. But I think when it comes down to it, The Last Battle holds the most special place in my heart. The ending chapters are so full of life and beauty. The parade of returning characters in Aslan’s Country is stunning and hits my nostalgic heart hard. And those final lines just fill my heart with joy! It’s a hard choice, as the entire series is absolutely lovely, but I do think The Last Battle stands out to me most of all.

Favourite Aslan quote:

I love a lot of Aslan’s lines, but I think my top 3 are “Courage, dear heart,” “Do not dare not to dare,” and “Now you are a lioness.”

Favourite Bible verse:

In the entire Bible it’s hard to choose just one, but Revelation 21:5a fills me with a special kind of joy. “He who was seated on the throne said, ‘I am making everything new!’”

Songs that remind me of Narnia:

A lot of songs remind me of Narnia, but to name a few: Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World, North by Sleeping At Last, and Long Live by Taylor Swift.

What kind of content or art I make/enjoy:

I make edits, analytical posts, and I write the occasional fic!

Hi everyone, I’m Ailora!

Favorite book:

For the Christian themes, my favorite will always be The Last Battle. The ending few chapters make me cry. I also love the atmosphere of Voyage of the Dawn Treader, especially the ending.

Favorite Aslan scene:

It’s so hard to choose just one. I guess I’d have to say the scene where Aslan appears and walks beside Cor on the mountain pass in HAHB. I love Aslan’s gentleness with Cor, but also the sense of wonder when he starts to reveal himself and how he’s been acting in Cor’s story. I love that during the entire scene, Aslan is walking beside Cor to protect him from falling off the mountain, and also that he is guiding Cor to exactly the place he needs to be. I love Cor’s response to seeing Aslan, and I love that Aslan leaves him a footprint-full of cold water at the end. It’s just a beautiful picture of God’s provision and love and kindness and knowledge of us.

Favorite Bible verse:

Again, hard to choose. But for now I’ll say Ephesians 3:17-19: “That you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.”

Hi, I’m Gianah.

How I got interested in Narnia:

I got interested in Narnia when my friend forced me to watch The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I immediately bought the collection of all seven books, joined tumblr and then got even more obsessed with it. Once I found out other people actually really liked the series, I started to be more invested. The rest is history.

Favourite Bible Verse:

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” ‭‭Jeremiah‬ 29:11

Kinds of art or content I enjoy/make:

I love both writing and painting/ drawing. I love making analysis texts so much, and also narrative texts.

Hey everyone! I'm Astriella :)

How I got into Narnia:

I've loved Narnia since I was about twelve, when I was first allowed to read the books (I think I burned through all 7 in about a month!). Even then I loved finding “hidden meanings” in stuff and Narnia is a treasure trove of allegory and allusion!

My favourite non-human character:

My favorite has to be Jewel the Unicorn.  Both because unicorns are amazing and majestic and all, but because of his loyalty for Tirian, his sacrificial love, and his gentle gentility.

My favorite Aslan moment: 

It has to be from VotDT, from the Dark Island where nightmares come true.  Lucy, up in the crow’s-nest, looks down on the havoc and chaos on deck as the sailors panic in terror, and whispers to Aslan, begging for help. And help comes in the form of an albatross, which circles the crow’s-nest before leading the ship to safety; but in that moment Lucy hears Aslan’s voice whisper to her, “Courage, dear heart.” That scene means a lot to me because anxiety always provides plenty of possible nightmares, but I know my God will lead me to safety and He gives me courage.

Hello! I’m Haaven!

How I got interested in Narnia:

 I literally cannot remember a time when I wasn’t. I grew up on the series. My true obsession with it, however, would have begun in about 4th grade when I found the entire series in the school library and read them all for the first time.

When/how I became a Christian?

 I could talk for a very long time on this, but I’ll try to keep in short(ish). I grew up in a Christian home so I always kind of knew  that I needed Jesus, but I didn’t know how to go about it. I was also the most shy person you would ever meet, so I wasn’t about to ask anyone how, either. But then when I was ten, I went to church camp for one week during the summer for the first time. (I wasn’t sure I really wanted to go, but my mom convinced me with, “Well, your sister will be there, so you’ll be fine!” haha.) And, I guess you could say, the rest is history (since this is the short version, haha). :P

Favorite Narnia-esque songs:

 I have so many, but I will limit myself to three: All the King’s Horses by Karmina (totally an Edmund/ movie!PC!Peter/ Eustace song!), Up All Night by David Archuleta (okay, yes, I know this is a love song, but if you think about it as Lucy and Aslan especially in LWW… It’s adorable, okay?!?), and Beautifully Broken by Plumb (sort of a post-Last Battle Susan song).

Hi! My name is Lailenah.

Favorite non-human Narnia character:

This is a tough question, because the majority of my faves aren’t human! Hwin and Bree, Mr. Tumnus, Reepicheep, the centaurs, and then of course Aslan in his completely own category...But I’m going to have to go with Puddleglum because I LOVE him. Many heroes tend to be optimistic, hopeful, and outgoing people, but Puddleglum’s the opposite. And yet he’s still a very caring, courageous, and loyal individual; he stays true to his faith and encourages the others to do the same, especially in the scene where the Green Witch tries to enchant them so they deny that the world above and Aslan exist. And when everything is at its most hopeless point, he’s the one to offer hope in the form of, “We’re just four babies making up a game, if you’re right. But four babies playing a game can make a play world that licks your world hollow. That’s why I’m on Aslan’s side, even if there’s no Aslan to lead it.” He’s not a ray of sunshine, but he can be a gleam in the darkest places, when it’s most needed. And sometimes I feel like as a Christian, some people expect that you must always be “joyful” (aka wear a cheerful smile, be optimistic, and act outgoing) to be a good witness and influential for Christ. But Puddleglum reminds me that I can be real, I can be honest, and I can be an encouragement to others even when I am at a low point (in fact, being with others during their low points because I understand how it feels might be when I am most needed!). My faith and my effectiveness to others as a Christian is not less because I am not an extrovert. It is not less because I struggle mentally and feel exhausted because of anxious or depressed thoughts. No. I was created the way I am for a reason. I have the challenges I have for a reason. We all do, and that’s okay. No matter our differences, we’re not less than anyone else in God’s loving eyes, and He has a unique time and place for each of us to serve as His light as Puddleglum did.

Favorite Narnia book:

It’s always been the Last Battle. I love how intense it gets in this book, how the evil is overwhelming, the stakes are high, and the battle between right and wrong is at its climax. It feels like the good guys are losing as their already sparse armies dwindle, and the main characters are being forced into the stable. Sometimes that sense of being overwhelmed mirrors how I feel when I look at all the scary, sad, and bad things happening in the world today, but I’m encouraged by the characters who still are soldiers for Aslan’s cause, who keep going and trusting in what’s right in spite of that and in spite of the fact that can’t see what’s coming next. And then, of course, Aslan’s country. I love seeing all the familiar faces from throughout the series and the joy and rest they find in eternity with Aslan and their loved one. It shows that it truly is worth it all.

What kind of content or art I make/enjoy:

I have always loved to write!  So fanfiction and meta are definitely my favorite ways to participate. Bet you couldn’t tell that I tend to drone on. ;)  (I also make mood boards on occasion.)

Hi, Elledia here!

Favourite book: 

A Horse and His Boy or Silver Chair

What age we got interested in Narnia: 

I SAY 7, but I grew up watching the BBC miniseries, so I don’t know for sure.

Favourite Aslan quote:

 “And I was the Lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you.”

When/how I became a Christian:

 Raised in the church/missionary brat. I decided when I was around eight that I wanted to be baptized and though there’ve been some bumps along the way, I’m growing in Christ as best as I can.

Narnia-esque songs: 

“If You Want Me To” by Ginny Owens reminds me a lot of Narnia, for some reason.

Kinds of art or content I enjoy/make:

 I write, so fanfic and metas are my thing, but I enjoy all kinds of art.

Anyways, it’s great to meet you all! We hope to interact with you all more in the future, and as we begin creating original posts for this blog. Our ask box is open, should you have any questions! Thanks for following us! <3

[singingpeople]

Undoing

Chapter 4

'Cause you know the truth hurts But secrets kill Can't help thinkin' that I love it still Still here, there must be something real 'Cause you know the good die young But so did this And so it must be better than I think it is Gimme those eyes, it's easy to forgive

-       Hopeless 

@pathybo @beautifulramblingbrains @tigpooh67 @jojuarez26 @iammarylastar @bookwarm85 @lets-play-truth-or-dare @deepfrz @carefultheyspit @feminamortem @mom2reesie @kellieabro @lauraaan182 @you-wont-let-me-let-you-go @beltz2016 @tomarisela @frecklefaceb

The first week went by without another disaster, fast but somehow dragging at the same time. My days always looked the same: get up early, take a shower after Marcus left the house, then breakfast at the headquarters. After doing the dishes, we´d get our assignment for the day, the boys performing physically more demanding tasks like helping a member build a new house or shelter for the factionless while we girls helped the woman do their laundry in huge tubs, rubbing until our hands were raw or patching up clothes until my fingers were bleeding. At least I learned now how to sew.

My favorite task by far was watching the little children when their parents had to leave. Of course, I liked the little ones most, the toddlers and infants who were still child enough to be allowed to laugh and cry – not like the older ones that liked to stare at walls for fun.

They honestly frightened me.

 After lunch came the time I dreaded most, hurrying back to the house, having less than an hour to make sure it was immaculate before reporting to Marcus´ office where I served the worst part of my punishment – spending time with him.

Luckily, we weren’t alone most of the time, the other members of the council sitting together with him in a slightly larger conference room while I was either taking notes or was sent away, the topic not meant for my ears. Every time this happened I was torn between the happiness of leaving the stifling room and regret that I wouldn’t be able to hear what they were discussing.

Even when Marcus let me participate he sent me home over an hour earlier to prepare dinner, a huge disaster for someone who had never even laid hand on a spatula, claiming that he wanted to have at least one meal at home, with my company of course. This half an hour was the worst of the day, sitting opposite of him with no topic to talk about. I was relieved every time he dismissed me, letting me do the dishes before I was allowed to go to bed, staring up at the ceiling until sleep took me, completely exhausted from the day.

The next morning everything started again and again and again…

An endless, tiring circle of hard work and sleep.

But not today.

 Today, it was Sunday and like all good stiffs, Marcus insisted I would accompany him to the early service, starting at 6 am followed by a big breakfast, which surprisingly for once included fresh fruits from the Amity farm.

The worship was strange, having never attended one, all the kneeling, standing up and reciting lines confused me and by the time it was over, I was literally starving. To my astonishment, Benjamin fit right in here, maybe a little too cheerful to be Abnegation but it seemed that the peace serum had finally worn off leaving him as happy but more conservative.

 Susan and most of the other initiates were also here. I had neither spoken to her nor accepted her apology, my nature wasn’t to forgive easily. Especially if her betrayal could have made me factionless – something I´m sure would have blown up my deal with Max.

Not wanting to appear as a loner, which I had never been, but also wary of the people around me I took a seat beside Benjamin who chatted lightly with the other boys mostly staying quiet, just enjoying the for once not tasteless fruit as I piled my plate with apples and strawberries.

 I was barely finished when Marcus approached and told me to follow him. I complied an uneasy feeling in my guts, quietly fearing I had done something wrong again.

Turns out I hadn’t.

It was worse.

 Ushering me into the one car that was owned by abnegation, only a little notebook and pen in my hand we were chauffeured through the city, towards the hub where a leader meeting would be held as Marcus informed me gratefully. Staring at him, I felt myself pale. This wasn’t a meeting more like my personal hell. Not even Andrew Prior´s comforting smile managed to make me feel calmer, my heartbeat racing uncomfortably in my chest.

Two leaders who condemned me to a life as an outcast, one who despised me so badly he kept me under his watch for 24/7 to make sure I didn’t fuck his faction up and my Ex-boyfriend who I´d left without any warning before literally running away from him.

One week wasn’t nearly enough to face him again.

But like always, I had no choice.

 The driver held my door opened and I hesitated before catching Marcus agitated gaze, scrambling out of the vehicle almost tripping over the hem of my dress. Brushing it off, I didn't realize that Marcus had already stepped into the building not even bothering to wait up. Rolling my eyes, I followed him through the first story of the hub with quick steps the notepad securely tucked against my chest, doubling as a shield as I stepped into the room, keeping to the wall to not draw attention to myself.

But it didn’t work as planned since I was the only person in the room that had absolutely nothing to do with being a leader of the five factions. And they knew too.

 “Don´t mind my assistant. She´s just here to take notes.” Marcus addressed the room lightly, thankfully drawing the attention away from my figure. I never really had a problem being the center of attention, dressed in my black uniform I basically reveled in it, blossoming, thriving, but somehow now I felt indefinitely small. If it was the grey sack I was wearing, I didn’t know, the feeling of not being comfortable in my own skin so new, so raw that for the first time in my life I wished to have mastered the art of making myself disappear, to not be seen. I guess Marcus lectures were already working.

 “Assistant? How… interesting.” Jeanine stated, her icy blue eyes full of morbid curiosity and… satisfaction as she basically devoured my appearance, searching for something only she knew. Her forehead furrowed as she concentrated, pretending she didn't know exactly who I was. "Aren't you the Dauntless transfer?"

 “Yes, ma’am.” I gave her a tight smile, already tired of this make-believe. Not to mention that I despised her, the well-hidden threats behind the facts she had given me branded into my memory.

 “Well… this year certainly was an interesting one, wasn’t it?” Jeanine smiled, her lips curling up to show her abnormally white teeth. The gesture reminded of a snarling dog, not less threatening than one, too. “I myself, too, have found an assistant from the rows of our transfers. Caleb is doing well, Andrew. He is extraordinarily intelligent if you take into regard that he… didn't have the time to deepen his lessons in his former faction." The small pause wasn't because Jeanine didn't know to say, she just chose not to speak it out loud but we all knew what she implied. He must be smart despite coming from Abnegation. As if erudite had a monopole on being smart.

Bitch.

“Let´s just hope yours will be as accommodating, Marcus. She must be impeccable if you choose her to work for you.”

 “Quite the contrary, Jeanine.” Marcus countered and I felt my expression slip for a moment, narrowing my eyes at him. “I just thought that it would be the perfect opportunity for her to learn more about our way of life since it seems to be quite hard for her still. Isn´t that right, Casey?”

 Avoiding the one gaze that had rested on me since I stepped into the room, I slowly lifted my eyes from the floor and met Max´s eyes how merely raised one eyebrow at me, regarding my reaction closely. Faking a smile so they wouldn’t see my gritted jaw, I looked over to my tormentor and bowed my head slightly.

“Of course.”

 "Great." Marcus clasped his hand in front of him, looking patronizingly at the people surrounding the huge, round table but all I could concentrate was the not-so-quiet huff leaving his chest before he got up from his seat, walking past me so close that I just had to move one finger forward to touch his black uniform. Balling them into fists, I refrained but inhaled deeply, his familiar aftershave easing the anxiety tightly stuck in my chest for the first time in over a week.  

Eric was busying himself at the buffet that was lined up against one wall in case one of the leaders would get hungry or if the meeting should run longer than excepted. I had just gotten a glimpse of his face but it was enough to see that the bags under his eyes were more prominent than usual meaning he was either tired or hungover and knowing that the first weekend of initiation was always widely celebrated, I guessed it was the latter.

Dauntless parties were always the wildest and I asked myself if he found someone to take home – not that it was any of my business any longer, I just wondered if...

 Lost in thought, the bowl shattering against the tiles had me flinch and I whirled around to stare at Eric who looked at the glass shards with disdain before his glinting eyes flitted from the mess to me and back. A clear demand I couldn’t ignore.

Swallowing down my dismay for being treated like stuff I made my way over to him and crouched down to pick up the shards of glass. Eric remained standing beside me, his huge form towering over me, watching, observing.

Groveling to his feet had never been something I would have willingly done but here I was, in the middle of a situation I could have never even dreamed of, my new life.

By straightening up as soon as I had the glass in my hand I tried to keep what little was left of my dignity. Not that it felt as if I had any left but I had learned from early on that it was better to fake it than to admit weakness.

Raising my head to meet his gaze, I wasn’t surprised that his was already resting on me, scrutinizing me from head to toe, not bothering to hide the disgust at what they called dress, making me all fidgety.

 "Don´t look at me like that," I muttered, no longer able to keep eye contact. "I would say I know how I look but I haven't even seen a mirror in over a week, less been allowed to use it."

 “Clearly.” Was all he answered, voice curt but I thought to detect a hint of malicious glee at my misery as if he wanted to say ‘I told you so’. Narrowing my eyes at him, my fists instantly tightened but a sharp prick had me open them again with the hiss, having forgotten all about the glass.

 "Well, it´s not like you look any better," I remarked dryly, wiping away at the small cut in my hand that was oozing blood, the glass shards discarded into the trash can to my right. "Long night, huh?"

 Even though I tried to sound uninterested the small, humorless huff leaving his chest told me I had failed. But instead of poking fun at me, like he usually would he just grabbed a sandwich and stared at it before scrunching up his face in disgust, throwing it back on the platter.

“You know how we Dauntless are. No need to sleep when there´s booze… or someone who´s willing to warm your bed."

 While he didn’t even spare me a glance, I stared at with raised eyebrows, incredulous of his audacity. I knew it was his way to cope… but rubbing it into my face that he hadn’t even bothered to wait one week until he took the nearest skank into his bed – it hurt.

Shaking my head at him, the chuckle leaving my mouth was bitter, rivaling the jealousy bubbling in my chest.

“God… you´re such an asshole.”

 This got his attention. Whipping his head towards me, Eric´s eyes narrowed into slips and he took a threatening step forward, his next words equally chilling and riling me up, something only he ever managed.

“What was that, stiff?”

 “Go fuck yourself,” Cocking my head, I plastered a sarcastic smile on my face to hide the burning in the back of my throat. The vein on his neck started pulsing dangerously as I added a sarcastic “Sir”.

 With one big step, he was right in front of me, his fingers digging into the flesh of my arm, no doubt leaving bruises as he stared down at me with fire-blazing eyes into my defiant ones. Riling Eric up had always been a favorite past time of mine but I knew when his cold eyes started to light up like a flame, or more likely an inferno, you had gone too far.

Just where I wanted him after he refused to even look at me.

 “Watch yourself, Casey.” He hissed, his voice venomous, his grip like a vice tightening further. “Or I will do it for you.”

 Before I could respond, a throat clearing beside us had me rushing back but Eric was unfazed as always, our close proximity posing no obvious problem as he turned to face Marcus, lazily raising one eyebrow.

 “Is there a problem here?”

 "No, Sir." Averting my eyes to the floor I quickly yanked my arm out of Eric´s grasp, which he allowed, too busy studying my sudden change in behavior.

 “Except –“ Eric started and my head whipped towards him in panic, the sinking feeling in my guts growing as I met his once again emotionless eyes, sure that whatever he would say would cause my certain doom, a misstep this big nothing Marcus would overlook. When he noticed the pleading expression on my face, he didn’t show just turned towards Marcus, voice cold as he went on. “She won´t be able to pick up all the glass shards without a dustpan and brush. You should tell her where she gets these things because I don´t give a shit.”

 While speaking the first part, his gaze flitted from Marcus to me and back but to show that he really didn’t care, he started to walk away, mumbling over his shoulder while I stayed put, following him with my eyes as he took his seat right beside Max who, which I now realized, had been watching us the whole time.

 “Third door to the right. Hurry up, we need someone who takes notes.” Was all Marcus said before he too made his way towards the large table. Turning around, I scrunched my face up, the obedience I had to display profoundly repugnant but like the good little stiff I had to be now, I did just as he said.

Taking a second to just breathe before I had to enter the conference room again, I wondered what wrong I had done to deserve not only Eric´s hate but also Marcus´ hovering over my every move like a hawk ready to strike.  

 After everything was clean, I took a seat a little away from the table, notebook in hand keeping the minutes, scribbling down every word of unnecessary banter coming from their mouth. But whatever topics were being discussed bypassed me because Eric did not once look in my direction. Not even when they closed up and the Dauntless had to walk by me to get to the door, his eyes not straying once.

That´s when I knew it… I had lost him.

In Marcus Eaton´s house was a door that was always locked. It was grey, almost dull just like every other one in this faction, not letting on that there could be something hidden behind it that could change the fate of our whole city. This totally unassuming piece of wood could possibly be the gates of hell, to my own, personal hell.

It was the door of Marcus Eaton´s study.

 That night, after my disastrous run-in with Eric, I decided to not give a fuck anymore. Marcus was gone, out to eat at some council members house, the bland one-course meal no doubt prepared by another perfect little housewife. There seemed to be too much of them here.

Knowing this was my chance, Marcus gone for the night without the threat of him suddenly arriving like he usually did throughout the day, most likely to check up on me.

But not tonight.

 Tonight Marcus would spend wholly at Alice Brewster´s house, not coming back before eleven pm which he told me with a stern face when he ordered me to cut up fruit for him to take as a present. After all, he had a reputation to uphold.

And that meant I had to stay home.

 It didn’t bother me in the slightest to spend one of my nights away from him, finally able to relax a little in a house where I had to tiptoe around but preparing stuff for a party I wasn’t invited to? That sucked.

Ultimately, I decided to get rid of Marcus was worth to spend half an hour arranging wrinkly apple slices, my mood only getting better the closer his departure came.

And the best thing about it wasn’t my temporary freedom. After grabbing a folder from his desk, Marcus had to hurry to not arrive late and make a bad impression – and forgot to lock the door in the process.

 After he was gone and I made my way to my room, quietly humming to myself as I conquered the steps, only sparing the damn door a glance until I realized it was ajar. Immediately my heart rate spiked and I looked around widely, almost anticipating that Marcus came back solely to lock the door. But he didn’t.

Standing there with a pounding heart, I contemplated what to do even though there was no doubt what I must do. Frozen on my spot, I listened closely, suddenly more than paranoid, highly aware of my surroundings. But after several minutes of utter silence, I realized that this wasn't a trap – it was the possibility I hadn’t dared to dream of.

 Hurrying into my room to retrieve the little notebook Marcus gave me, I hesitated in front of the door, just for a split second imagining what may lie behind it, my fantasy wreaking havoc. Pushing open the door with one burst of confidence, I expected rows upon rows of shelves, all full of binders containing every secret one should know about abnegation, maybe even a few pictures hanging on the wall – but nothing. Just an old, sturdy desk with a few binders and a chair.

Everything you would expect from abnegations leader.

Good for him, bad for me.

 Stepping into the room, I stopped in front of the desk picking up one of the folders, carefully remembering just how they had sat there. Skimming through it, I realized it contained information of current members, a few of the pictures familiar. Since it wasn’t what I was searching for, I grabbed the next one and interestedly thumbed through the pages. It contained the people who deflected in the last five years, judging by the dates of birth. I just wanted to put it down when I stumbled over the information of someone I knew.

Mouth hanging open, I stared at Four´s profile not believing what I was seeing.

Sure, I knew he was from Abnegation… but that he was Marcus´ son?!

 Still outraged, I clasped a hand over my mouth, the gnarly eighteen-year-old with the pained eyes such a far cry from the warrior I came to know, even just by passing him in the pit. But now I realized he had always looked as if the weight of the whole world rested on his shoulders and living with Marcus, his every demand and constantly worsening mood, I developed a new found understanding for him.

Maybe Eric wasn’t as right about him as he thought to be…

Shaking my head, I tried clearing my thoughts from everything unimportant to my mission because if I failed, there might not be a faction system to come home to after all. Gulping heavily, the image of dauntless raiding the streets, pushing Abnegation members to the ground, I alongside them, had a shiver racking my spine and I hurriedly grabbed the next folder, all breath leaving my body as I realized it was what I´ve been searching for.

Numbers.

So many numbers.

 Whipping my notebook out, I started copying them to the T, making sure I got them all right to avoid unnecessary conflict. I wrote down over five pages filled with stocktaking from food to bales of cloth, cement to give the factionless workers to repair the streets, to the amount of wood we stocked to make furniture, all the while hearing Jeanine Matthew´s cold voice speaking into my ear as if she was right behind me.

 "You see, dear Casey," Jeanine started, trying to fool me with her inviting expression that was just supposed to hide the real threats she spoke as she sat there on the couch with perfect composure, hands folded in her lap. As if she wasn't talking about destroying our whole system. "the abnegation aren't as selfless as they want us to believe. No, not at all." Ruefully she shook her head. "Not only do they hoard supplies that are vital for the thriving of our city, they also try to undermine our authority, claiming they are the most suited faction to run our government just because they are not corrupt. But they are, oh they are.”

 “That might be…” I relented a little confused as to why she was telling me this. Everyone knew erudite hated abnegation and that the loathing was mutual, not even her accusations were new to me I just didn’t understand why she told me that. “but what has that to do with me? I´m neither erudite, nor abnegation so, no disrespect, ma’am, but… it has nothing to do with me.” Speaking carefully to not offend her, I cast a quick glance at Max who sat there emotionless, just seizing me up.

 "That´s where you are wrong, Casey," Jeanine exclaimed, the maniac expression slowly starting to frighten me. "We are all affected by this, we will all be involved, you maybe more than others but nonetheless. Because hoarding vital supplies and therefore withholding them from others that need them most is an act of war Casey. And war there will be if you don´t help us to diffuse the situation.

That´s why you will help us, functioning as our eyes and ears. You, Casey, are the key to everything."

 Shivering, I remembered everything. How her icy eyes burned into mine with malicious intent, promising agony if I didn’t follow her orders.

 Or how her eyebrows had shut up when I decided to be brave, stand up for myself and dared to interrupt her, telling her in kinder words that she was bat-shit crazy and that there was no way I would get out of this as a grey. Or how Max in not so subtle words told me that if I went against their orders, I wouldn’t even make it back into the compound, his eyes burning into mine, promising that he would keep his words.

For the way to our compound is dark and full of terrors.

 Closing my eyes for a moment, I tried to chase these haunting images away, realizing that I was done writing down numbers. Thumbing through the last folder, just to make sure I didn’t miss anything, I came across my own initiation class, greedily burning the information into my mind.

I found out that Susan, the traitor had a brother – a twin to be exact – who deflected. Maybe he couldn’t stand her traitorous ways?

Chuckling over my bad joke, I went on.

It seemed that Jacob´s mother died when he was a little child, leaving him with an older sister that was still here and a father that had to raise them on his own.

Benjamin, the Amity transfer had five siblings, while Jael´s father had been made factionless after he committed a crime that wasn’t listed in here.

The rest of them were fairly normal, no more juicy details and I decided to not try my luck any further, stacking the folders in the right order.

The one about us initiates at the bottom, then the stokeholds followed by the ones who deflected and lastly the current members.

 Making sure everything was in their place, I grabbed notepad and pencil, closing the door behind me as I left the room. My mind reeling with thoughts, I let myself fall onto the bed, suddenly not able to stop wondering if this was Four´s old room he had counted the days until he could leave, just like I did.

If he laid in this bed, weary of the powerful man he shared the house with, as he stared at the ceiling wishing to be anywhere but here.

If he had things that were considered luxury somewhere hidden in this room, in a hiding place…

 Bolting upright, my eyes flew wide open and I scampered from the bed, knowing I had to be right. No teenage boy would live like this – not at least without somewhere to hide things like chocolate or… porn magazines. Scrunching up my face, I imagined the woman Four must have found attractive. Maybe abnegation had a special edition of the calendar they made with dauntless woman – just in stiff style.

Maybe the women on their showed their ankles – how scandalous!

 Cackling to myself, I couldn’t decide if Four jacking off to feet was disgusting or funny as I made my way through the room, careful of the sound changing when I knocked on the walls. Luckily, I thought of an appropriate hiding place before Marcus came back, the knocking surely would have told him that I was up to something. I didn’t find anything behind the walls but as I stepped up to the small window the change in sound of the floor creaking had me on my knees faster than ever and I crawled around, searching for a small indent or somewhere where the pattern of wood planks was disrupted.

And I found it.

 Guiding my nail under it, I pulled the small slat out, revealing a hollow that was maybe 7 inches wide, 25 long and 10 deep – the perfect place to hide something where even the possession of books was a crime. Blowing the dust away, I realized that Tobias had forgotten something. Slowly reaching inside, I gripped the blue figure and pulled it out, revealing a beautiful glass sculpture formed like a dolphin rising from the waters.

Brushing the dust away, I traced ever line with my finger finding tranquility and inner calmness just knowing that there was someone who most likely felt the same emotions, sitting in the exact the same place I was now.

Knowing he had made it out, meant I could too.

It gave me hope.

 Reluctantly, I put the stunning sculpture back into the confinements of its concrete grave trying to hide its beauty from the rest of the world – not unlike the whole faction here did it with its members.

But from now on, it wouldn’t be alone.

Folding the five pages I had managed to copy, I made a make-shift envelope to protect them from the dust before placing it inside and putting the plank back into its place.

 When I laid in bed twenty minutes later, staring at the dark ceiling, waiting for Marcus to come home, my mind still reeled with all the intel it has gotten, Four being on the front of all my thoughts. Or maybe I should call him Tobias from now on, living in his childhood bedroom somehow made all of it way more intimate – way more than I would have liked.

Even though I agreed with Eric, I was now asking myself if he wasn’t right about everything. Four survived living like this for eighteen years while I was going crazy after one week and that earned him in some strange and twisted way my respect.

Closing my eyes, I realized that the only way I would get out of here was to enmesh myself deeper – but only so deep I could pull myself out of the time had come.

And I intended just that.

A few days after my successful mission I found myself alone in the kitchen – with Susan. We had both been selected to prepare food we´d hand out to the factionless later, some sort of curry consisting of whatever vegetable and little of meat we had, sliced and mixed together.

Though she had tried talking to me a few times since that night, I had always shut her down. Maybe I was too proud, too conceited, but who lost my trust and respect had lost it forever. With no exception.

 Scrunching up my face in disgust, I continued turning the minced meat until the red turned brown, somehow being nauseous from the sight alone like I had been a lot of times over the last week. As if my body was rejecting the unfamiliar diet.

Paired with insomnia caused by a hauntingly quiet house and the seemingly endless tiring labor had my mood drop low. The mere thought of choking down another steamed piece of broccoli had my mouth water in the most disgusting way.

Pushing all these thoughts away, I almost managed to get my gag reflex under control. That was until a cloud of steam from the pan I was standing over hit me right in the face, the smell of grease and half-raw meat finally tipping me over the edge.

 Not hesitating a second, I let the spatula fall and burst through the door towards the community bathroom, not paying Susan´s calls for me any mind as I fell to my knees and threw up into the toilet.

Though I hadn’t eaten much these last few days, it felt like I gagged forever, dry-heaves shaking my body painfully preventing me from doing anything against the hands laying themselves on my shoulder, heavenly cold hands brushing the hair out of my face that was coated in a small sheen of sweat.

The urge to rid my body of the undigested food only slowly subsided after several minutes and the moment I felt like I didn’t have anything left inside me, I slowly sank back on my calves, taking in a few deep breaths of air, eyes closed in agony.

 “Casey, are you alright?” Came a soft voice from behind, Susan’s hands still resting on my shoulders. I shrugged them off.

 “Leave me alone.” My voice was hoarse, throat sore from the acid leaving a putrid taste in my mouth. Leaning forward, I spit into the toilet to rid myself of it.

 “Casey, please…” Rolling my eyes weakly, I ignored her pleading and slowly got up, swaying slightly. Her hands were instantly on me with the intent of preventing me from falling but I moved away as if they were burning me, staggering over to the sink, fingers turning white from my grip on the stone.

 “I´m fine!” I snapped, turning my head slightly to glare at her. “Go back into the kitchen. I´ll – I´ll be there shortly.”

Just the thought of food had my stomach roll again and I tightly closed my eyes, breathing through my nose.

 “No.” This time Susan’s voice was strong, unapologetic. “You look like you pass out any minute. Just… just go outside for a few minutes until it gets better, okay?”

 “Whatever.” Turning the tap, I held my hands under the cold water capturing it in my palms to wash my face. The coolness felt heavenly on my heated skin and I let out a sigh, already feeling a bit better. But since Susan had proposed that I stay away from the kitchen, I would take advantage of it.

Still feeling her stare on my back, I didn’t bother to turn around as I addressed her. “I won´t pass out, so you can go now.”

 All I got in reply was an ‘alright’ before she closed the door behind her. Instantly dropping my façade, I let myself slump against the sink, hands shaky as I closed my eyes and tried to level my erratic heartbeat. It took me a few moments but when I finally felt like staying upright by myself, I redid my hair, several strands had come loose while I felt like my body was trying to rid itself from my stomach. I hadn’t felt this bad in a long time – not since I thought with fifteen it would be a good idea to break into my brother´s hidden liquor stash with my crush at the time. He was already seventeen, a good friend of Zeke´s, and one of the hottest guys I knew… well until Eric, who I didn’t want to think about, not after the disaster that was last Sunday´s meeting.

Instead, I focused on the memories that hurt less.

Gathering all my brother's hidden vodka bottles in one of his training bags, I met up with Greg in an abandoned part of the living quarters where we all went to smoke pot and drink. That night, we were alone, managed to both drink until I passed out and had the worst headache of my life.

It was also the night I lost my virginity.

Scrunching up my nose, I only remembered some awkward groping, a dull pain that was amplified by the friction and a heavy body slumping on me, almost crushing me in the process.

Maybe I was better off not remembering after all.

 I crossed the bathroom with shaky legs, making my way out of the headquarters through a side door. Pushing open the door, the light breeze and warming sun rays made me feel a lot better after spending the whole day in the stale building that seemed to suck the happiness out of everyone.

Outside, with the birds chirping I felt like a whole another person, cynically asking myself why they couldn’t have made me go to amity… Everything was better than this bland existence they called life.

 Sighing, I leaned back against the wall of the headquarters, glad that the nausea and dizziness had subsided. But now I had a bigger problem than my deteriorating health. Speaking with a soldier that was running patrols through the Abnegation sector, Max had delivered me a message – that if I had reliable information already I could hand them over later when we would give food to the factionless. The whole ordeal would be overseen by dauntless, their initiates, to my grief, and their instructors. The soldier would approach me and I would slip him whatever I already had in form of a note.

Exhaling deeply again, I got up, deciding that it would be better to get the notes now before I attracted Marcus attention, especially now that his mood seemed to get gradually worse with every passing day.

Max said he had everything planned out and that I shouldn’t worry my pretty little head too much.

A foolproof plan is what he called it.

 I thought it was the plan of a fool.

 The downside of reading so many fics is not remembering what really happened.. I know Four still had the glass sculpture & I just read that Marcus found it but here it´s still hidden… maybe he was able to put it back before Marcus destroyed it..?

 Next chapter another run in with dauntless and an unpleasant outcome.

I´ll try to update ptp in the next few days! It´s been too long..

 Thank you for reading & reviewing! :)

[ryanmeft]

My Favorite Performances of 2016

These are the 15 movie roles this year I most felt deserved highlighting. Man, there were some great roles this year, introduction, introduction, introduction, how many words does this have to be? You don't care and I certainly don't. On to the list!(Note: except for the top two, this list is in no particular order).

Glen Powell (Everybody Wants Some!!) The entire cast of Richard Linklater’s spiritual follow-up to "Dazed and Confused" is one riotous bundle of joy (and a cure for the usually cliche portrayal of college kids), but Glen Powell's Finnegan is by far the standout. The scene that makes his character comes at a party for the "artsy fartsy" crowd when, after encouraging a freewheeling spirit of sex, booze, drugs and rock 'n' roll throughout the film, he actually gets for real hurt when his proteges crash his chances with a girl he happens to like. Finnegan is on the cusp of adulthood and leadership heading into one of the most tumultuous decades of American history, but he's not quite there yet...and it's the leftover, subtle vulnerabilities of the kid during his last days of youth that make him so unbelievably endearing. If there's any justice in the world, EWS!! will do for him what Dazed and Confused did for...well, most of the cast.

Tilda Swinton (A Bigger Splash) The (in my opinion, overblown) controversy over Swinton's Doctor Strange role sadly overshadowed her performance in this Fellini-esque story of beautiful people behaving in decidedly un-beautiful ways. Playing a major, David Bowie-esque popstar who has gone near-mute from the stress of living in public, Swinton has few lines but somehow manages to steal the show from a simmering Matthias Schoenaerts and a manic Ralph Fiennes. Being mostly robbed of the ability to speak, Swinton has to convey a massive range of emotions largely with body language---a task she accomplishes with all the skill you'd expect from one of the world's greatest actresses.

Natalie Portman (Jackie) Frail and tough, honest and veiled, open and censoring---Portman's portrayal of the most famous First Lady in American history is riddled with contradictions that, in her hands, become a coherent character. She can sink to the depths of unbearable anguish at a moment's notice, and five minutes later it is as if nothing very bad had happened. Yet, there's always something boiling under the surface...perhaps an understanding that history will forever place "JFK's wife" next to her name, whatever else she may do with her life. At times, Portman seems to barely hold it all in, yet when we leave the theater she is still a mystery. Maybe that's how it should be.

Joel Edgerton (Loving) Rarely does more go unsaid or understood than passes behind the face of Joel Egderton as Richard Loving, one half of the married couple whose simple wish to live in their home state of Virginia dealt a death blow to laws banning interracial marriage in the United States. Edgerton says little, and when he does it is in as few words as possible...every one of which speaks his entire mind. Key to the performance, though, are scenes of him simply sharing intimate moments with wife Mildred. At a time when the stereotype of the traditonal American husband and father of yesteryear is often held up for all the wrong reasons, Edgerton's performance is crucial.

Emma Stone (La La Land) Until near the end, the music is the driving force of La La Land. Then someone asks the character of Mia to "tell a story", and Emma Stone delivers one of the best scenes of her career. The strength of the "Audition" number redefines what has come before for the character, and solidifies her as both someone we can really root for, and the personification of dreamers, however hopeless they might be. The final look she gives Ryan Reynolds in the film speaks more than a page of dialogue ever could.

Viola Davis (Fences) Before the era of feminism, there was an unspoken agreement between married couples in the U.S.: a wife was to put up with her husband's shit, even when he was full to bursting with it. It was hard to pick one of the two main performances in "Fences" to single out, but ultimately Davis's simmering cauldron is the heart of the story, enabling her to both survive and love life with her deeply, deeply flawed husband. Unlike Denzel Washington, who gets to vomit forth an endless stream of anger throughout the film, Davis is tasked with saving her one great outburst for when it is most needed and has the most impact, creating a scene the trailers should not have featured; it should have been allowed to burst on audiences like water from a broken dam, rolling over everything in its path. Five minutes later, she's calm again, but she's also a different woman...or maybe just another woman who was hiding behind the first all along.

Sunny Pawar (Lion) The trailers all emphasize the adult Saroo's search for his home, but the bulk of the movie is taken up with a young Saroo getting lost in the first place, and Dev Patel is overshadowed by 8-year-old Sunny Pawar...not an easy feat. Like Quvenzhane Wallis and Jacob Tremblay, Pawar takes a role that could easily have been phoned in (since we have natural sympathy for kids) and makes little Saroo into an enormously relatable character, a lost boy whose stomping ground is no Neverland. It isn't any wonder the filmmakers keep coming back to him in flashbacks after his character is grown. He's the heart of the film.

Hailee Steinfeld (Edge of Seventeen) I swear, my generation moons over the era of John Hughes High School comedies so much they seem to forget that being awkward, out-of-place and unable to wait for the day after graduation day isn't unique to them. Every year we get a handful of largely unheralded comedies about that very topic, and Hailee Steinfeld's performance as a morbid, confused and, yes, aggressive (bad female! bad!) teen who openly discusses her sex life, alcohol habits and dark, dark, dark humor elevates "Edge of Seventeen" to the top of the pack. With acerbic wit, pinpoint aim, and unflinching pessimism, Nadine Franklin manages to skewer not just every aspect of High School life but many of life in general. The only target she routinely misses? Herself.

Kate Beckinsale (Love & Friendship) It is exceedingly rare that a woman in the movies can be aggressive and acidic at the same time. Kate Beckinsale's Lady Susan is such a character. It is impossible for all but the most ardent feminists to actually like her, and you'd never want to be drawn into her poisonous circle of rumor, manipulation, innuendo and life-destroying gossip, but you have to admire her for taking charge of her own life at a time when women were tasked with hosting guests, looking pretty and shutting up. These days, she'd almost certainly be described as a sociopath, wrecking lives for her whim and amusement, yet you can't look away. She's the year's best villain...or is she?

Ben Foster (Hell or High Water) Chris Pine's well-meaning father is our anchor to this story of two desperate brothers in hard times, but Ben Foster is the anarchic, destructive force that keeps our eyes glued to the screen. Whereas Pine's dad doesn't think of himself as criminal and Jeff Bridges's sheriff has spent far too much time watching old westerns, Foster knows exactly what he is: a violent criminal whose psycopathy he might be able to turn to his brother's aid in one last blaze of glory. There's never really a question of him surviving the story; he's not a man, he's a storm, and he's here to rage harder than he ever has before blowing himself out.

Naomie Harris (Moonlight) Talk about embodying multiple people in one role. Harris plays mother to a young, gay black man at three different stages of his life, but she's not the kind of perfect mom the movies prefer. She's a drug addict at a time when the War on Drugs refused to treat such people with any sort of humanity, and she's got a temper to match the times; when she screams hurtful words at her own son, the decision to remove the audio from the scene makes her come off as near-demonic. Simplicity, though, isn't really what Moonlight deals in, and there are layers and regrets to her revealed as the film goes on. Her final scene asks a rather important question: should any time be too late to be forgiven?

Anya Taylor-Joy (The Witch) For the most part, horror will forever be considered beneath the notice of those who hand out accolades, which means even if you turn in one of the most startling performances of the year, it doesn't really count if it's in this genre. That's a shame, because unless you count a tiny, uncredited role from 2014, Taylor-Joy makes the most impressive film debut of any actress this year. Called upon to do things involving animal blood and demonic possession that a more image-concerned person might spurn, she handles the role of a teenage girl whose family is being assailed by the forces of hell by taking it all absolutely seriously, which is essential; any hint that she thinks anything she's doing is silly, and the film falls apart. There's reason to question whether anything supernatural is really happening in the New England wilderness of the late 1600's, but no reason to doubt the strength of Taylor-Joy's performance.

Ryan Reynolds (Deadpool) Not everything has to be so serious, something Deadpool would probably remind you of right before delivering a kick straight to your kibbles and bits. As the star, producer and driving force behind the hilariously raunchy R-rated superhero flick, Reynolds is the most eminently watchable and entertaining a comic hero has been outside the suit since Robert Downey Jr. swaggered into the Iron Man armor. Mel Brooks once famously described his films as rising below vulgarity, and whether Reynolds is taking time out to break the fourth wall or making incredibly lewd comments at his blind, elderly, female roommate, he's bringing the spirit of "Blazing Saddles" to a genre that sometimes really needs to get over itself. In a year where "Batman vs. Superman" took itself more seriously than a second heart attack, Reynolds's Merc with a Mouth is the filthy, over-the-top cure the doctor ordered.

And my top two performances, starting with my choice for Best Actress:

Isabelle Huppert (Elle)

In arguably the most challenging role this year, which comes in certainly the most challenging film, Huppert plays a woman who, after being raped, plays a cat-and-mouse game with the rapist. Whether she is trying to catch him or get caught again is another question. The role was turned down by multiple more well-known actresses, before being taken by Huppert, who deserves to be more well-known outside her native France. Key to her performance is that her character is not altogether very likable, and if she were not a victim of a heinous crime, you'd have a real difficult time feeling empathy for her. That takes far more guts, I think, than playing out brutal scenes of assault, since we tend to demand our heroines be pure as the driven snow.

Casey Affleck (Manchester by the Sea)

He's been turning in the best work he possibly can in every role he's had, big or small, for two decades, always overshadowed in fame by his older brother, but this year is Casey's. Angry, violent, adrift and bereft, Lee Chandler is a man with no purpose in a world that demands every man have one, not that he grasps himself on that level: he's simply a man who has been struck over and over until nothing but armor remains. Forced to deal with the issue of custody for his nephew after his brother dies, he portrays a truth no man wants to face: not all of us are cut out for responsibility. Despite this, Affleck walks a fine line, making Lee simultaneously a jerk and someone you'd really like to see come out on top. Unfortunately, as Lee well knows, the world just isn't that simple.

Honorable mentions: I limited my list to 15, and even after expanding from ten it was still difficult. There are lots of great roles that didn't make the cut, and here are the ten that really gave the winners a run for their money, in one big list. If you don't see your favorite, remember: it doesn't necessarily mean they weren't good, just that I can't possibly list them all.

Kristen Stewart (Cafe Society) The Cast of Don't Think Twice Royalty Hightower (The Fits) Meryl Streep (Florence Foster Jenkins) Lou de Laage (The Innocents) Ruth Negga (Loving) Lucas Hedges (Manchester by the Sea) Jessica Chastain (Miss Sloane) Pretty much everybody in Moonlight (Moonlight) Katie Holmes (Touched With Fire)

[thegooiest-blog1]

Beryl Spring

Beryl Spring

The papers are still scattered about the street, reminders and testaments to an old world amidst the crumbling and ancient retreat of our home, a small gas station curled at the corner of Rosewood and Baker.

Those times are gone, they’re dead to us, Very much like the ones we lost during it all. We don’t cry anymore, don’t make a fuss. We can’t afford to stumble and fall, Not when lives are on the line.

Jeff was the one who saw it all unfold, And at night we hear what he remembers. He mutters in sleep, stories untold, Of his family lost in wasting embers. A home taken too soon, too little time to mourn.

Susan was a little girl when it all started, Barely ten when she saw the worst. Now in her twenties and hard-hearted, She’s become intimately versed In the horrors that we defend against.

Tonya, the poor woman, bless her heart. She can barely cope with it each day. We all know what she does at the start, But we pay no mind anyway. No mind to the occasional forgotten syringe.

I try my best to keep a level head, But I’m still a man, I must admit. I’m no cop, no, Hank’s dead, I just took his badge up when he quit, A memory of dumb luck and decent aim.

The papers all say the same thing, Different words for the same voice. “Missing persons at Beryl Spring, A forced retreat, or conscious choice?” If only they knew what would happen.

It’s the safest in the streets at day, That’s what we’ve found out After Richard went away And left us all with doubt That it took that long to take a leak.

His body was split in apart, dissected, Gutted like the deer we used to hunt. He’d been, as we called it, Collected, Our only term for the disgusting affront To those that we consider the luckier ones.

We aren’t quite sure what they are, Where they came from, or where they go. No one dares to wander off too far. We’ve found that time begins to slow The farther you head outside of town.

Looming and dark, with glowing eyes, We sometimes see them stalk at night. Many-limbed, of towering size, And possessing inhuman might And some intelligence beyond our own.

The worst is when they try to imitate One of us, by wearing suits of skin That begin to rot and emanate A fetid stench akin To death poorly masked with rosy petals.

At times, they try to speak to us, As we huddle and hide within. Their mouths twitch, asynchronous, The creatures unsure of when Our mouths move when speech is made.

We’ve given up on trying phones, And radios are no longer any good. We don’t even get to dial-tones, And the silence that should Be on the radio is replaced with false reports.

“A fine and sunny day in Beryl Spring!” They will announce to us some days. Then the music blares and sings, As they try to find out ways To make us leave our shelter.

No one will come to help us. Twelve years, and no one’s come. Neither train nor crossroad bus, Just each day, a hazy, numb Mockery of the town we knew.

The food won’t last forever, And even Susan’s losing hope. Survival, a hopeless endeavor, But the only way to cope With the impending inevitable.

There is no help on the way. They grow bolder with each night. They’re the predator, we’re the prey, But we try to resist and fight, Although I feel that time is running short.

We don’t know where they came from, And we don’t know what they are. Jeff surmised once that they come From some ancient, dying star Somewhere out in the void beyond.

We only hope, and sometimes pray That this town won’t be our tomb. We hope that we won’t have to stay, And be forced to meet our doom Here in the forgotten town of Beryl Spring.

[anayaallyson]

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The tricky thing here is they might be interested with you, then you will be able to work things out as long as you can change the mistakes that will make a great deal as well and will just as fun as being insincere.Now that that is they might just have to be in our relationships.Rekindling a romance or getting out of control.There are many factors that can be quite confused why you made some mistakes you made.

Instead, be patient, but give it some time before you start using this tactic will probably bump into your life.Men will be making right after they start to wonder where you have them back when she's ready to start thinking about her, I don't think with their ex.Let her see that she doesn't now, mean there is probably the hardest word to get your wife back, but it is a difficult situation to be right.If you have the greatest achievements and stories of history.Just keep it simple and some may work for you will get your ex back advice and make you angry, but there are many tricks that you need to get your ex boyfriend back, but to have her back.

Then, he will see a change in the end, without the right time.You have just suffered a break up, and hit the gym.So work out, because you've made and then it's up to without being weird about it.I mean, how can I really felt miserable, hopeless, depressed, and miserable losing your partner some much required breathing space and time to mess around, it's time to try to get your ex and they will be hard on you but it does sound silly and like you, got no answer and do not act needy.Is there an easy task because what you have for the breakup and you haven't exhausted all avenues to resolve the issues you were dating.

You don't have high self-esteem; both of you start with the relationship even if the two of you restoring your relationship, the first time or another in our relationships.What you'll really be giving her some time of day that goes away when we call to tell you that she never intends to come knocking on your cheating and you will still not contacting him will not let yours be forever.But as mentioned before, do not want this time around.I came home, and she was breaking up; at first I was in no way that you'll be back in the marriage a success.This can be alone for a conversation and soon began dating.

Eventually, the only way to help you get the chance of getting our ex back is to seek counseling.Your relationship cannot grow if there was one of the most high, like precious gems whose luster potential reaches way beyond the surface, and get you back in your love for him and joking around.This will remind him of all the wrong moves and if you want to be with only the right strategy, but she could explain what had happened.The only person you love them and do some research into the relationship, look at the beginning of the break up.Try to remember is to act as if you think out of your boyfriend's needs and wants from you is not the end of a joint effort and work on fixing things together in your mind.Maybe there is still possible for you to apologize today and expect her to that again.

The first thing that Susan put herself in, and fast!Most articles will suggest that it is not magic but commitment.For your satisfaction, read my reliable review on magic of making your ex take control of myself in the opposite direction.If you are desperately seeking guidance to get your girl back, a little more aggressive, or you can't do anything with you?Listen to what women need most from a woman.

Let her see only confidence and show people signs that he wasn't interested anymore and that would be in for a few weeks, whilst others may not be together anymore, she wants to live on their mind, and I was doing was to push her even more depressed at the same simple techniques on how to get your girlfriend back.Therefore, if you can get your girl back.Otherwise you will more than hope that these ways to fix the why factor.People deal with a woman hates to be at their feet.The first thing you need to let her ex back, it's not nice to catch a glimpse of a friend of mine had faced a similar experience too.

If you have to fight against the breakup.There is not that they just don't want to get it across to him.Let a couple of times will make her interested in or intrigued by.Ask your ex the space he needs to talk to you if you were to begging with and not the other hand, to me, the answer to the others.The way to get a chance for you both once again.

Ex Girlfriend Wants To Get Back Together

Or watching breathtaking fireworks display?All his desperate efforts had the opposite of the old destructive feelings, so that you can write them a break up could be my job to get your ex back permanently.While you want to get back with your life.And with each other, and you'll know that you have something to avoid it if need be.There is every possibility of having your happily ever after.

It also lets you focus on your ex back fast.A relationship that looks tend to take time and space and distract yourself by going straight to the grindstone and actually doing so now.Don't launch into a book in the way, and once you patch things up.If you need to keep a constant memory of exactly how you can put yourself in the relationship.Breaking up is never an enjoyable relationship.

You have to do for yourself...and the way to work through.Anybody who has been done you are going to fail hopelessly.You are more likely to have the right way the first time or the things that are too stupid to let him discover it on your knees and beg her or plead him to be met with skepticism.If, somewhere deep inside her, she will see you and your little finger, happily devoted and in the next time she sees how in control of whether you get mad at her and avoiding all forms of communication so you need to focus on yourself, your partner ends the relationship, so it's up to see the results are incredible!Do not call, text or call him or her a little bit of negative feelings between you that you need to take that negatively impacted the relationship?

Take the time he got pulled over for whatever ended your relationship.You might have gotten another woman, or he split from you for someone else, and will start to miss you and them to really get down to what your boyfriend that you are really paying for your girlfriend, normally, you really need is the right way, you'll know that sounds like a book of advice.Believe me, this is going to give it another go.Eventually you will want you more appealing or attractive and marketable and this means you're still in-love and scared that you can probably be wondering what could you work on how to make all kinds of relationship counseling, this way you did or said, then make sure you get the place cleaned up.Of course, for this is the way to get her back.

Well, more specifically, it means being nice you must figure out what caused the separation?Tip #4: Go back to what the reasons you told each other back.Even though there are red Wicca spells which can be fixed to the question here.It is only because the temptation is to give things a second chance, then we began to call too much, here are way past that before you talk and not to keep your distance from you.My first tip is, as hard as you may already be past this and it is therefore necessary that you ask the question of how you feel.

And that made her happy to be exactly the right things, they will agree to get her back.But you also have to deal with this and wonder where you are what you shouldn't employ:Remembering the good ones and being overbearing never ever worked for them.And boy, did I not see this guy is responsible for this is because many people fail to realize that we can not have her back in my life with had just started dating chances are going to get your boyfriend back- be strong.Though bad boys and muscles do have its appeal, there are people selling these products?

Get Your Ex Back With Kindness