#*other drabble

[entertain-thepain]

BERLIOZ VS THE MONSTER | UN

TIME FRAME: current mww ages or something 

INSPIRATION: i fELT LIKE IT OK

GENERAL NOTES:  "Reflect, reflect, reflect, reflect -- forget." 

SIDE NOTES: a bunch of drabbles about Berlice based on Fall Out Boy's Save Rock And Roll album in track list order. 

this is so stupid

FIRST INTERLUDE ; THE PHOENIX doesn't it feel like our time is running out?

Maybe it’s because when they first started um…you know, dating -- Berlioz desperately wanted no one to know (ever) at that point in time. Now that he thinks about it, that must have been really unfair.

It might’ve even hurt her feelings a little. Now that he thinks about it. She probably misunderstood his reasons for being so discreet about -- about them. (Why is it still so hard to say?) She could’ve interpreted that he was ashamed of her or embarrassed by her or even that he couldn’t be seen with someone like her.

Berlioz severely hopes she knew him better than that. Now that he thinks about it though, she might not have.

Now that he thinks about it.

He should really stop thinking about it. He wants to even, but all he can seem to do is reflect.

He turns over onto his back and stares up at the bare ceiling of his bedroom in the dark.

Reflect, reflect, reflect, reflect -- forget.

That’s what he needs to do. Forget. If he does that everything will be fine. They might even go back to normal.

i’m gonna change you like a remix / then i’ll raise you like a phoenix

  He narrows his eyes at his last passing thought. Normal sounds pretty lonely. Maybe he should just go visit. But that would make everything so messy and he can’t. He can’t can’t can’t can’t. What would people think if he just ran into the hospital and said “Alice, are you okay? can I help? I really missed you, you know. I didn’t mean to take so long I just couldn’t make it out. I’m really sorry, Alice. Mon dieu, I’ll do anything to help you now I promise. What can I do? Can you play games? I’ve never been any good at chess because I thought it was boring but I’ll play with you if that’s all they have. I’m sorry I took so long. I’m really sorry. I didn’t know what to do but I had to come and say I think I might be --”

He bolts up so fast in bed he gets a little dizzy. He swallows hard and blinks rapidly for a few moments just trying to sort things out. It’s eerily quiet tonight, probably in the early hours of the morning by now and he’s just been up thinking about things he really needs to forget.

Berlioz shakes his head and slumps back onto the pillows. He’s going to sleep now. In the morning, he’s going to forget. For real this time.

“-- in love with you, Alice. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. “

put on your war paint

In the morning, he takes a quick moment to decide what he’s going to do if anyone asks about her.

Alice? Which one is that again? Oh right, of course. The poor girl that got hauled off to the hospital. Mon dieu, that’s too bad.

Yeah. That will work fine.

The following afternoon he has to do just that with Marie. It’s almost hard, actually. He’s usually pretty good at pretending not to care. Mostly because he’s not usually pretending.

Fuck, this is so difficult.

He realizes in the midst of the day that this could be considered really, excruciatingly selfish. It’s too bad he’s decided not to care anymore, he can be as selfish as he wants.

Word must have gotten back to his mother, and merde, he can only think of this going in one spiraling direction when she says “Berlioz…? I heard about your friend Mademoiselle Alice. I’m so sorry, Berlioz. Have you been doing alright?”

Berlioz, honestly, kind of wants to die a little when he replies, “Alice? Alice who?”

the war is won / before it’s begun / release the doves / surrender love

  The main thing that bothers Berlioz is that he can’t figure out why he cares so much about one stupid girl. And what she thinks and where she is and who’s she’s with and what she’s doing and why she isn’t here with him.

This sucks.

His follow up question; why does it hurt? And why is it so unfamiliar the way it does? Not like a smack or a hit or a scratch from one of his sibling feuds. But like, in his chest? It feels really condensed, kind of heavy. Actually, it’s really heavy. This sucks.

He keeps thinking just that -- this sucks. This sucks. T h i s s u c k s. But what can he do? Berlioz already told everyone he can’t remember who she is.

She… He freezes. Merde, what’s her name?

She she she she, she she, she she… He starts panicking -- like, really really on the verge of freaking out. What’s her name? Her name? Berlioz knows it too, he swears he just knew it. Where did it go? Her name, her name, she she she is --!!

“Mon frere?”

His gaze snaps upwards to see Marie across the room, looking at him with a concerned expression. It makes sense, on the outside his actions probably looked questionable. Worrying, even. He stands up straight, swallows once, his eyes dart to the corner. “I’m fine.” He says quickly, he feels like he has to say that for some reason.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees her nod slowly, then she crosses her arms and shifts her weight to one side. “Have you gone to see her yet?” She asks, clear irritation cuts through her words.

“Who?” He asks desperately. It’s not like he’s actually pretending this time but he really, really doesn’t know. What’s her name? Say it, say it! Say it so he can just remember already and stop freaking out over nothing.

“You know who. Alice.” She practically spits at him, but he’s too relieved to care.

Alice.

He could almost hug his sister right now. He lets out a sigh and shuts his eyes tight. Alice. Berlioz pictures her on the beach and then in his living room and then at her holiday party. “Mon dieu.” He breathes out. It’s okay, he remembers.

“Um, hello? I am still here you know.” His sister whines her way into his mind.

“Go away.” Berlioz snaps at her. He still hasn’t opened his eyes.

“Ugh!” He hears her stomp away.

surrender love!

  In the end it’s just hopeless.

He can’t even manage to forget her for a short period of time how is he going to do it forever? Attempting it would be stupid, so Berlioz decides to give up. He actually just can’t forget.

Or, more accurately, it appears he doesn’t want to.

(wave the white flag)

[entertain-thepain]

!!!!!! | baline

Merry Christmas, Shaz!! I hope you like this jasdygsalhkjg

Faline had been at the Christmas party a total of ten minutes and was already completely bored. She sat in her mother’s lap while she spoke with the other adults about the course of the year so far, how much the children had grown, and other terribly boring things the small girl didn’t care to hear about. The other kids had been playing in the next room over and she might’ve joined them if Ronno hadn’t been there. She scowled a little just thinking about him. Ronno was always just talking about himself. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he actually nice to the others, but he wasn’t.

Faline reached up and tugged lightly on a strand of her mother’s hair. “Mama, I’m boooored!” She whined, interrupting the man across the table who had been speaking. All the adults turned to stare at the small girl, causing Faline to feel very intimidated.

Ena sighed lightly and ran her fingers through her daughter’s hair. “Faline, I asked if you wanted to play with the other children when we arrived. You said you didn’t want to.”

Faline puffed out her cheeks, “I don’t wanna play with them.” She mumbled quietly. “I wanna do something else.”

Bambi’s mother was sitting next to Ena with her hands in her lap. She smiled sweetly at the girl, “Bambi is upstairs in his room, he was supposed to be downstairs ten minutes ago. Why don’t you go get him?”

Faline nodded fiercely and hopped off her mother’s lap. “Okay! I can do that!” The adults laughed as she raced off to climb the stairs. When she reached the top she quickly raced down the main hallway to Bambi’s room. The door had been closed and she opened it, not even thinking to knock first. “Baaaaaambiiiii!” She called teasingly, her voice ringing. The small boy was sitting on his bed with a book open. “Oh! There you are!”

Bambi blinked back in surprise, “You! What are you doing in my room?!”

“Your mama told me to come getcha.” She giggled loudly, “So come on!”

He frowned and closed his book, then folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not coming.” He said firmly, looking away.

Faline’s eyebrows furrowed together, “You have to, your mama said!”

Bambi let out a huff, “Fine…” He started moving off his bed.

“Come on, Bambi! You’re bein’ a slowpoke!” Faline hurried over and grabbed his hand and then continued to pull the poor boy down the hall by his arm.

“Am not - h-hey stop!” He protested.

Suddenly he gasped, causing Faline to stop in her place. “What is it?”

“There’s a plant growin’ from the ceiling!” He said in awe, pointing towards the archway.

Faline giggled furiously, “That’s not growin’, silly, it was taped up there!”

“Oh…” Bambi flushed red, embarrassed. “What for?”

“‘Cause it’s mistletoe.” Faline said matter of factly, as if it explained anything.

“What’s that?” He asked, completely clueless.

She smiled slyly, “It means you gotta kiss me,” she sang in a taunting tone.

“W-what?” The small boy’s eyes widened and he stepped back, “No way!”

Faline put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at Bambi, “You gotta! It’s the rules!”

“I don’t wanna.” He mumbled, looking at the ground. He was clearly embarrassed. “Let’s just go.”

She sighed, “You sure are bashful.” Before he could reply she quickly skipped over and kissed his cheek with a loud ‘mwah!’ “There!” She exclaimed, quite proud of herself.

Bambi stared at her with his mouth hanging open and his eyes wider than dinner plates. He reached up to feel his cheek and then proceeded to turn several different shades of red. “H-h-hey! You can’t do that!”

Faline giggled and nodded, “Can too!” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek again.

Bambi stumbled backwards, “F-faline, stop it!”

She just laughed loudly and stepped forward to kiss him again but this time he ran around her towards the stairs. “Hey! Bambi!” She ran after him quickly, which soon turned into her chasing after him all around the house. Faline giggled consistently while Bambi just continued to avoid her and getting more cooties.  

“Stop chasing me!” He yelled over his shoulder, running through the living room. “MOTHER HELP!!!” 

[entertain-thepain]

We're all fighting growing old | Thomas

TIME FRAME: dude he's super old like old as balls

INSPIRATION: uhm i miss writing him i guess???

GENERAL NOTES:  Thomas recalls his past and old friends.

SIDE NOTES: there's no point to this omg bye

Johnathan Towne was a bright and lively firecracker of a seven year old, and admittedly the best grandson Thomas could have asked for. Of course, he was also the only grandson Thomas had, but that was irrelevant. His seemingly never-ending energy and lack of common sense may have given his mother lots of grief, but Thomas found that those things were required of a young boy seeking for adventure.

“Papy, papy!” He all but screeched with joy, bounding into the room. His mass of blonde curls were hidden by an extremely worn cap that was far too big for him and slipped down past his eyes, but he was too stubborn to remove the thing so he just pushed it up only for it to fall again. When you were able to see his eyes, they were a nice sapphire blue color - something he definitely hadn’t inherited from Thomas. The mass of freckles on his skin, however, were a different story. “Papy! Guess what?” He hopped onto his grandfather’s lap without hesitation.

Thomas tried to hide the flinch best he could, surprised by the sudden weight. He attempted to maneuver Johnathan onto his other knee, but his condition made it quite difficult to do so. Once he managed to, he smiled at the young lad, “Oi! You know you can’t just go jumping around onto people, Johnny.”

Johnathan giggled, covering his mouth with his small hand while he did so. “But I’m not jumping on people! I’m just jumping on you, see?” He lifted his other hand in front of Thomas’s face to reveal a folded paper in his grasp. “Look what mama found! Look, see…” He began to unfold the paper with his grimey child fingers. Once he was finished, he held the finished product under his grandfather’s nose. “Mama said that used to be you!” He pointed towards the middle of the paper, which had revealed itself to be an old photograph.

Thomas adjusted his glasses and squinted. Thomas, undoubtedly, was in fact in the photo. He was much, much younger though - as were the three other people in the photo. The date in the bottom corner concluded the picture was taken when Thomas was about twenty. He recognized the building in the background to be the house he shared with John at the time. John himself was standing about center, he had one eyebrow quirked at the camera and was wearing his knowing grin. He had his arm wrapped around a pretty brunette girl who stood to his left - Jane. Thomas chuckled to himself at the young woman’s expression in the photo which was a look of mixed embarrassment and being flustered. To John’s right was Thomas himself, he was wearing a ridiculous grin (he realized now he must’ve always been). The same cap Johnathan was wearing was perched on his own head. His gaze was focused on the girl must’ve jumped on his back for the purpose of posing for the photo. The way her hair twisted and curled around her face, he recognized her as Wendy immediately. She looked as if she was in mid-laugh when the photo was taken. In the bottom corner of the photo, someone’s thumb had been covering part of the lens. Thomas didn’t have to guess who.

“I told her there was no way it was you!” Johnathan interrupted the old man’s thoughts, once again pointing to the younger version of himself in the photo.

The older of the two furrowed his eyebrows, tearing his vision away from the picture for the first time to his grandson. After thinking for a moment, he understood and let out a chuckle. “I used to have two hands just like you, Johnathan.” He tapped the child lightly on the nose, “Just like everyone else, too.”

“Really?” Johnathan seemed thoroughly surprised by this. “Then what happened to your other one?”

The question was innocent enough. Johnathan wasn’t old enough to understand what he should and shouldn’t ask, anyway. It wasn’t that Thomas was offended or even upset by it, the only issue he really had was trying to figure out exactly how he was going to explain this to Johnathan in a way he would understand. He decided not to elaborate too much, “I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He took his time saying the words, praying that Johnathan would just accept the answer and leave the topic alone.

“Oh, okay.” Was all he said, and he didn’t ask anything else which was a relief to Thomas. “So, is that really you?” He pointed to John.

Thomas laughed, “No, no. That was my best mate, John.” He nodded towards the young man with wild red hair and too many freckles, “That’s me there.”

“Ooooh!” Johnathan nodded, “His name is John just like me!”

Thomas pursed his lips, “Exactly.”

Johnathan’s small grin shrunk a little, he peered around the room anxiously as if checking for safety. “Is that grandmama?” He whispered, meaning Wendy.

Thomas assumed the extra precautions about asking were because his daughter must’ve warned Johnathan not to ask about his late grandmother, whom had passed before Johnathan could walk. He smiled sadly at the little boy in his lap and shook his head, “I’m afraid not, Johnny.”

Johnathan looked a little disappointed, Thomas guessed that he knew very little about his grandmother at all. “Your grandmama had hair just like yours.” He said, pushing up the ratted cap to see some of the curls peeking out. “You have the same eyes, too.”

“Oh!” He sat up, “Mama’s hair is like mine, too!”

Thomas nodded, then gazed back at the picture. “That woman there is my very good friend Wendy Darling. Your mama might remember her as Auntie Wendy.” He explained, then moved to the other side of the photo. “This is Jane Porter. Well actually, now she’s Jane Smith…” If Johnathan was phased by that information, he didn’t show it. “She was an excellent friend, too. Very smart.”

“She doesn’t have blonde hair, either.” Johnathan noticed.

“No, she doesn’t.” Thomas agreed.

Johnathan leaned in closer to the picture, the blob in the bottom corner in particular. “What is that, papy?”

“Not what, Johnathan,” Said Thomas, “Who. It’s my friend, Alice. Well - its her thumb. It got in the way when she was taking the picture. It happens by accident sometimes.”

Johnathan nodded and grew quiet. He opened his mouth the say something, staring intently at the photo. “What happened to them, papy?”

He didn’t answer right away, just tried to place that memory correctly. It must’ve been just before John and Jane embarked on the jungle journey - which was the first of their many adventures together. Thomas and Wendy had put the part together, and Alice had helped. Looking through the front window of their house, you could see the walls linest with decorations and banners. “They’re all gone now.” He said softly, “All of them - except for Alice.” He shook his head slightly, returning to reality. “She got very sick and had to go to the hospital so they could take care of her. She’s still there.”

“Did you ever visit her in the hospital?” Johnathan asked innocently, “Because she was your friend, right?”

Thomas nodded, “Once.”

---

Thomas walked down the halls nervously wringing his hands. He hadn’t yet visited her since being brought here, but he owed it to her to visit. He turned left, then right, then left again just as the nurse instructed him to do so. Eventually, he reached the door labeled A12. Taking a deep breath, he nearly forgot to reach for the door with his right hand instead of his left.

Inside is was fairly dark, the only thing that allowed him to see were the window blinds that had been opened some. He could see someone sitting at an old piano with their back to him, playing a tune he couldn’t quite place as familiar.

He cleared his throat, “Alice?”

They stopped playing, but didn’t turn around. “Berlioz, is that you? I knew you’d visit me!”  

[entertain-thepain]

i gotta love that keeps me waiting | berlice.

TIME FRAME: current mww ages or something ayee

INSPIRATION: my love for these petite merdes ok

GENERAL NOTES:  Alice likes to run the beaches at midnight. Now Berlioz does, too.

SIDE NOTES: this sucks bye

The best thing about being with Alice, in Berlioz’s opinion, is that he never knows what they’re going to do. Sometimes he doesn’t even know what’s going on. It’s like the ghost of his childhood self takes over his body and suddenly they’re running down the beach in the middle of July, at midnight. The place is completely isolated, but it doesn’t seem like it. She’s laughing as loud as her lungs allow her to, kicking sand behind her. He trails behind her, taking a bit more time to take in the scenery. They’re both barefoot, for what reason he doesn’t remember. The weirdest thing is that she doesn’t look back at him once, it’s like she knows he’s going to follow her.

And then she just stops, randomly. She turns back to him grinning like mad, gesturing him to come closer. She still breathing unevenly from running and tries-- he really tries --not to pay attention to the rise and fall of her chest while approaching her. Once they’re within a foot of each other, she plops down in the sand and sits cross legged. He follows her lead, but allows his legs sprawl out in front of him and supports his weight with his hands out behind him. “That was fun,” He says after a short while.

She nods in agreement, “I quite like running. Sometimes if you run fast enough, it’s like you’re in a world of your own.” It’s so dark he can only see the outline of her face against the light of the moon. Talk about poetry.

“I can barely see you,” He says.

There’s more silence, spare their breathing, and then he hears her shuffling in the sand. She moves so she’s on her knees, her eyes level with his. Every time she exhales he can feel her breath on his cheeks. “Is that better?” She asks quietly, she’s almost smirking.

His face gets hot and he sucks in his lips and turns away from her stare. It didn’t take a genius to know that Berlioz has never been this close to a girl before, let alone a pretty one like Alice. If Marie were here, she’d giggle and taunt him until the ends of the Earth. “I didn’t say it was a problem. I just said you were hard to see.”

She doesn’t retaliate, not verbally. She just sits there on her knees gazing hard at him, like she’s daring him to look back, which he can’t do now-- he’s just too mortified. Instead he glares at the sand and recites the notes to his favorite piano pieces mentally to distract himself from the pretty girl and the fact that she’s well within his personal space.

He hears Alice sigh, from disappointment or exhaustion he doesn’t know. She rolls over so she’s on her back and then rests her head on his abdomen, extending her legs out and clasping her hands over her stomach. “What do you like to do? Besides play piano, I mean. There must be something.”

Berlioz is aware of what he’s being asked, but he’s far too distracted trying to slow his breathing. “Um.” It occurs to him he actually doesn’t do much other than play piano. “I don’t know.” He says.

“Are you one of those blokes that becomes their hobby? Let’s it swallow them so they’re nothing else...” She drifts off.

“No! I Do other stuff, obviously. Mon dieu, you make it sound like I’m an old kook cooped up and forced to play all the time.” He rolls his eyes and pulls his hands out from underneath him, letting his back fall onto the sand. “I went bowling the other day.”

Alice smiles, “There you go! Bowling, then! You like bowling.”

“I didn’t like it, really. Ron took me because I’d never gone before and I lost pretty bad.” He thinks for another minute. “I read sometimes, too. I actually really like...” He hesitates, eyes shifting to her. She had her eyes completely closed, her blonde hair was spilling off into the sand.

“You really like...?” She opens one eye to peak at him, then grins goofily and closes it. “Go on, then. Don’t stop there!”

He sighs quietly and rolls his eyes in spite of himself, but nevertheless continues speaking. “I occasionally enjoy... well, I guess you could say... I mean sometimes I like to spend time.” He attempts lamely.

“You like to spend time?” She repeats in a confused tone.

“Yeah.” He mumbles, his face heating up again. “With you, I mean. I like to spend time with you.”

Alice doesn’t say anything for several minutes, which scares him him to the point that he holds his breath without realizing. He exhales slowly once he does, but he’s not any less anxious. “Yes well, I’m glad you’ve finally realized that. I like to spend time with you, too.” She says.

Berlioz frowns, “I didn’t just realize it, you know. I’ve always known it. And it’s different for me to admit something like that!”

Alice stays completely relaxed, however. She turns onto her side so that her face is in the direction of his upper torso, his neck, and his head but her eyes are still closed. “How come?”

“Because!” He exclaims, exasperated. “Because! I--” It’s then that he realizes he doesn’t actually know why it’s different for him, he just knows it is. “Because it is.”

Alice just nods, and then she opens her eyes and sits up. She smiles at him, and then says, “Alright, Mister Bonfamille. It’s different for you. But does it matter so much if it’s different? Everyone is different. If everyone were the same as you were, then we’d all be stuck inside pressing keys on a piano. Instead of that, we can skip through meadows or fly far away and wear daisy crowns.” She scoots closer to him and places her hand over his, and he can automatically feel the muscles tighten uncomfortably. “Why should it matter if it’s different, then? You like to spend time with me, and I quite like to spend time with you. That’s the same, isn’t it?” She looks down at him. “Isn’t it?”

There are very little moments when Berlioz is at a loss for words. Once in awhile he’ll hear a composition for the first time that will leave him so, or perhaps Monsieur O’Malley telling stories of his past. But now? Because of a girl?

Gradually, he sits up, but doesn’t move his hand from underneath hers. He stares at her intently for a long time. And during this time, he can even feel the tense feeling in his hand softening until it’s completely relaxed and normal. And it’s weird, but it’s nice. It didn’t take a genius to know Berlioz hasn’t so much as held hands with a girl before, let alone a pretty one like Alice. But it’s nice. And he doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing or what’s possessing him to do it (because it’s definitely not his childhood self) but he twists his wrist so their palms are touching and then pushes his thin, piano fingers through her soft ones. And it’s still nice.

“It is.” He says.

[entertain-thepain]

escaping the same way. | britkiddies

TIME FRAME: um idk I imagined them to be kinda on the younger side but I guess it could be any time.

INSPIRATION: I've been reading a lot of John Green novels??? I don't know what that has to do with anything but he uses crazy amounts of symbolism so I guess I wanted to do something kinda like that.

GENERAL NOTES:The bird's dead, but it was heading that way anyway. 

SIDE NOTES: Um yeah have fun this probably sucks bye.

For whatever reason, Thomas and his friends thought that walking seven blocks and three quarters to the closest convenience store made it seem like they were hot shit, even though Thomas knew for a fact they weren’t hot shit they were just regular shit but that didn’t stop them from doing so every Friday. And once they got to the lousy excuse for a store, the only one that would ever have any money was John and he would buy everyone a bag of crisps to share. But the bag was too small for all four of them to share most of the time anyway, so they would finish it in under two minutes.

On this particular day, the group were already on their way back from their annual Friday adventure, he and John were having a serious conversation about Spain and what they were going to do there once they started traveling.

“And we’re going to have lots and lots of--” Thomas gestured around in the air madly, “money! That way when we come back to the store we can buy a bigger bag of crisps.”

John laughed and patted Thomas on the shoulder, “Or we could use the money to go adventuring across seas. Doesn’t that sound grand to you, Tommy?”

“John, you know as well as I there isn’t any more land to discover.” Jane scoffed, using her famous know-it-all tone of voice, except the words were a bit muffled coming through her new braces. It sounded rather like “Shawn, you know ash well ash I there iggn’t any more lang to dishcover.”

Thomas could tell John was having a hard time trying not to laugh. “Sorry, what was that, Metal Mouth?”

Following the conversation as best he could, Thomas felt a small crunch come from under his foot, but didn’t think anything of it and kept on walking until Alice, beside him, let out a strangled yelp. “Tommy!” She all but wailed, pointing to the space on the ground where he’d just stepped.

He turned to see what they were all gawking at, and Thomas didn’t quite know what he was expecting to find, but it wasn’t the mangled dead body of a bird laying there in a terrible traumatizing and uncomfortable looking manner.

From what he could make out, it was a crow. A very small crow, with dark black feathers all matted down into the pavement and soaked in blood. Something that looked to be the poor animal’s entrails were spilled out underneath it like its chest had been torn open and someone had tried to shake the contents out like a piggy bank. The legs and wings were all bent out of shape and mangled, but the worst part was the head. If you could even call it a head anymore, there really wasn’t much left of it. The thing had been completely torn from the rest of the bird, the beak completely smashed in and one of the eyes was scratched out.

“Is that the pattern of the bottom of your shoe on the body?” John asked hesitantly, but Thomas barely even heard him.

“I didn’t... mean to.” He mumbled, not taking his eyes off the creature.

“What are you you talking about? There’s no way you could’ve done all that just by stepping on it, it was probably long dead before we even got here,” said Jane.

Alice tugged on the sleeve of his shirt lightly, finally forcing him to rip away his gaze. “Are you crying?”

She was. “It’s so strange how one minute you’re alive and well but in the next you could be lying there all bruised and dead and unwell... it’s like, you’re never going to talk or laugh or smile ever again? And now this bird is going through more torture while he’s dead that he ever was alive because all of the ghosts at night are picking out his feathers and slicing him open.” She sniffles, glancing at the bird again.

Thomas nodded even though he didn’t really understand anything she was saying, he could practically feel Jane rolling her eyes. “It’s just a bird, Alice.” Jane reminded her.

“Barely even that anymore.” John added.

Thomas cocked his head sideways and eyed the thing once more. “Yeah, there’s nothing to get upset over.” He heard himself saying, “It would’ve died eventually, anyway.”

Alice looked at him, completely horrified. “Would you say that about people too?”

“N-no! I just meant... I dunno.” He shook his head, “Look, I’m tired and hungry because Jane hogged all the crisps--”

“Hey! I did not!”

“Did too, there’s some stuck in your braces right now.”

“Shut up, John!”

“--So can we all just go home and sit down and ask Jane’s dad to make us some sandwiches or something?” He finished, almost yelling over his friend’s argument.

There was a lot of mumbling and sounds of mutual agreement, and the four of them set off once more.

“Poor little crow...” Alice murmured, “Out there alone in the cold.”

Thomas didn’t really know what Alice wanted him to do about it, so he just squeezed her hand.

[entertain-thepain]

looney liddel is my friend. | jalice

TIME FRAME: yaaaay for middle school times

INSPIRATION: JFC IT'S LIKE WE'RE HAVING A BRITKIDDIES PARADE UP IN THIS BITCH

GENERAL NOTES: Jane just wanted to wash her hands, that's it. 

SIDE NOTES: yeah i haven't slept so there's probably a lot of grammar mistakes but i'll fix them later

Jane should have expected a snobby group of girls in the washroom, it was junior high after all. Filled with ridiculous 13 year olds trying to use make up such as fire engine red lipstick and bright lime green eye shadow which only made them look horrendous. They should be focusing on the important things, like studies and adventures. Not making themselves look ridiculous.

But that day Jane was tired and had all this mud on her hands from recess because she and John had been playing around in it and now her hands were all dirty. So she didn’t expect the three lousy 13 year olds talking their mouths off about “what’s in” and “dating”. Disturbing.

She tried her best to simply block them out and it worked, for a while. She was halfway through cleaning her hands when one of them piped up and said--

“Did you hear what Looney Liddel did this week in homeroom?”

And Jane knew there was only one person people called Looney Liddel. It was Alice, no mistaking it. Jane just continued to wash her hands, scrubbing dirt from in between her fingers, but this time she was listening to their conversation.

“--she grabbed the edge of her desk--”

“--completely flipped it--”

“--Mrs. Hawkins was so upset--”

Jane didn’t even notice she was frowning, pushing at the mud more vigorously than before.

But why should she care what they say about Alice? She didn’t even like Alice! Alice was--

“--completely mad, that girl.”

She turned off the sink and turned around on her heel, pointing a still slightly grubby finger at the lot. “Don’t talk about her that way, okay?” She demanded, surprised at how angry it sounded.

The other girls seemed surprised, too. Jane didn’t wait for a response though, she marched towards the door. As she threw open the door and stepped through one of them shouted after her, “why do you care about what we say about Alice?”

“Because!” Was all she replied, before the door shut completely behind her. As she walked down the hall towards the playground she whispered, “because she’s my friend.”

[entertain-thepain]

thomas: the dumb version | first interlude, jamas

TIME FRAME: Awkward teenagers can I get an amen

INSPIRATION: Well Jelly wrote this super fab drabble and Thomas was being his awkward oblivious self so I figured I should have a bunch of drabbles dedicated to that.

GENERAL NOTES: Thomas ignores Jane because he's ridiculous, part uno. 

SIDE NOTES: How do I even Jane omfg I'm so sorry

It was freezing outside. Jane couldn’t remember why she hadn’t brought a jacket with her. Who forgets to bring at least a pullover when they go outside in the middle of November? Completely ridiculous, the goosebumps sprouting on her skin would agree.

It was ridiculous for her to even be outside at this time in the first place. She should be sitting at home in her favorite armchair, the faded yellow one. She would sit there by the fireplace and read a book, probably To Kill A Mockingbird-- it was one of her favorites. Maybe her daddy would make tea for the both of them and they would just sit there quietly sipping while Jane read and he worked on some paperwork from his desk. But instead she was here in the cold wandering around aimlessly. With Thomas.

Ah, so maybe that was why she was outside.

The two of them were walking along side by side in the small park near Jane’s house. Thomas had stopped by and explained how John was visiting his American friend, Eric, for the winter break and wouldn’t be back-- as he put it -- for five whole days. (Which Jane laughed at, because those two couldn’t last a minute without each other let alone five days). He said he felt like going for a stroll, and although Jane had loads of unfinished homework and endless projects she had been waiting all school year to find the time for, she agreed. And there they were.

She eyed the windbreaker Thomas had been smart to bring with him with envy. He was even wearing long sleeves underneath! Jane was left with quarter lengths that barely made it passed her elbows. She huffed, annoyed at Thomas for remembering to bring a jacket, and annoyed at herself for forgetting one.

But being irritated wasn’t going to get her anywhere, and it certainly wasn’t going to get the cold wind to stop eating at her skin.

Perhaps... She looked over at Thomas again. He didn’t seem bothered by the cold, he was going on about something that had happened at the shooting range earlier with some bloke named Arthur. Jane didn’t particularly care for it, she didn’t know a lot about that shooting malarkey Thomas and John loved so much. They would even hunt for innocent animals, it was madness!

“Thomas?” She asked, interrupting him. “I’m... kind of cold, it’s freezing out here.” She glanced at his windbreaker hoping he would pick up a clue of some kind.

He stopped in the middle of his sentence and raised an eyebrow at her. After a moment, he simply shrugged and said, “you probably should’ve brought a jacket with you,” and then continued on with his previous story, oblivious to Jane’s sulking and (continuous) shivering.

[entertain-thepain]

build from the bottom of the pit. | britkiddies

TIME FRAME: They're all around elevenish? I assume Jane and Thomas are the same age while John might be a year or two older and Alice a year or two younger. I dunno.

INSPIRATION: I'm not even sure, okay. It was sorta variation this, and then a song and something about it being four in the morning might have had something to do with it. 

GENERAL NOTES: Thomas learns his father is going on a trip for a while. The obvious thing to do is spend the night in a treehouse with his friends. 

SIDE NOTES: Yeaaah, um. Don't expect a lot from this because I haven't slept so it's probably horrible and a horrible idea to post it but oh well. Also Alice is extra looney because in my ~*~imagination~*~ Alice recently had her Wonderland adventure so occasionally she slips in and out. I don't know just roll with it. Also I'm super sorry if (and we all know a probaaaaably did) I wrote your precious bbys super ooc, you've been warned. 

Thomas did not bang on John’s window with all his might, and he definitely wasn’t crying. He just had a branch in his eye. Yeah, that was it. A tiny wood chip or something. He rubbed his left eye with the palm of his hand roughly, wiping away ‘side effects from the wood chip problem’ (he decided that’s what he was going to refer to them as. They’re impossible to avoid, can’t be helped). He had overreacted and impulsively yelled something that he didn’t mean like he did whenever he got frustrated or couldn’t make sense of something. But it was hardly fair! One minute he was just counting down the time until his birthday next week, all happy and giddy reading his favorite book. Then, his parents want to talk about work issues and money issues and all of the sudden his dad is going on a trip for an entire ten months. That not only meant that he was going to miss Thomas’ 12th birthday, but also that he wouldn’t be taking him hunting for the first time like he had promised to after years and years of Thomas badgering him about it. And, oh yeah, it also meant he wouldn’t even see his dad until August next year. He would be stuck with his idiot baby sister and his mother that didn’t understand anything about him, which was exactly what he had snapped at them and started the huge argument that ended with Thomas running to his room, throwing random things into his knapsack and taking off out the bedroom window. Which had, naturally, led him here. John’s house. Thomas adjusted the knapsack that was slung over his right shoulder a bit nervously before all but smashing his knuckles into the glass again. “Come on, John.” He whispered, knowing fully well that John couldn’t even hear him. “Come on, come on...” After a minute, John’s face appeared in the window, startling Thomas. At first, he looked grumpy. Thomas couldn’t blame him. It was dark outside, he had probably woken John up. He unhitched the windows and pushed them open. “What is it, Tommy?” He asked tiredly, most likely trying his best not to glare at the younger boy. Thomas bit his bottom lip. He was still sniffling a bit from when he had been not-crying. John seemed to notice something was wrong quickly and perked up a bit, frowning slightly. “Tommy?” “I need to stay at your house.” Thomas winced after the words left his mouth. It came out more desperately than he wanted it to. He cast his glance down at his feet, letting out a miserable sigh. “Hey, come on now.” He opened the window wide enough to crawl through, then did so and closed it behind him. “We can get Jane and all of us can go up to the treehouse, yeah?” Thomas nodded slowly, following as John started off towards Jane’s house. He couldn’t help but feel like none of this ever would have happened if he was more like John. ~*~*~ “Your daddy is really leaving?” Jane asked from next to him. Thomas just nodded glumly. “Tomorrow. And for almost a year.” The three of them had kidnapped as many blankets and pillows as they could find in Jane’s house. They were currently bundled up in them, huddling in a circle around three lit candles in the center of the tree house while Thomas explained the events that had happened earlier that evening. His knapsack that contained his favorite book, some crackers (there weren’t any other snacks to grab, unfortunately for him) and his dad’s lucky hat was slouched against the small case of Jane’s not so small books. Drawings and even a few pictures of the three decorated the walls almost so that you couldn’t see them. On the ceiling, their names were carved into the wood sloppily. John had done it when the treehouse was first built with a pocket knife he had taken from Jane’s father. He gave it back, of course. He never even knew it was gone. “You can share my daddy if you want!” Jane offered, a bit too enthusiastically. “And we can all learn about the solar system together with his telescope!” John barked out a small laugh, resulting in Jane’s face going bit red and she hit him with the back of her hand. Thomas was about to cut in, when the sound of a twig snapping outside made them go silent. “What was that?” He whispered, gripping the edges of the blanket around him tighter. John held a finger to his lips, and then blew out the candles in front of them. Then, signaled for them to follow him down the rope ladder. Pushing the blankets off and crawling across the cold wood, one by one they silently climbed down the rope ladder. A rustling noise came from behind one of the trees. John turned to them, “Okay, Tommy. When I say so, I’ll run on that side, and you’ll run on that side. We’ll catch the culprit no problem!” He whispered, using his hands to help explain. “What do I get to do?” Jane asked, but it sounded like more of a demand to Thomas. “You’re the lookout.” John waved away absently. Jane rolled her eyes and mumbled something sour under her breath. Thomas didn’t catch all of it, but it sounded something like “...always the look out...” “Ready?” He stage whispered to his friends. Thomas nodded, lining up in his running stance. The rustling noise from behind the tree got louder. “One... two... three!” John cried out, jumping out. Thomas did the same on his side of the tree. He collided with another person in the dark. At first he thought it was John, but he wasn’t tiny enough to be this person. They let out a tiny yelp when they both hit the ground, knocking heads in the process. Thomas could hear John groan as he collected himself off the ground and rubbed the side of his head. His vision steadied after a moment of blinking, but his head still hurt a little. Jane huffed, clearly annoyed. “It’s just that looney Liddell girl!” Thomas glanced at the ground next to him. “Alice...?” He locked gazes with the girl. “What are you doing out here?” “Chasing a cat.” She said, almost dreamily. “Aren’t they lovely?” “Erm, yeah. Splendid.” Thomas shrugged, running a hand through his hair absently. “Are you okay?” “Okay?” She pushed herself onto her feet. “I’m Alice, have you forgotten already?” John snickered from somewhere behind him. “Oh, nevermind.” Thomas sighed, wiping off some dirt from his hands onto his trousers. Alice was said to be completely bonkers ever since she’d come back to school from summer break. She started going on about some other world-- Wonderland. Jane found her completely illogical, and John just thought she was an oddball. Thomas didn’t actually think Alice was crazy, he often felt bad for the way other kids treated her. Today, however, he didn’t have the patience for her Wonderland talk. “Why were you chasing the cat, Alice?” John asked, he was always amused by her antics. Alice narrowed her eyes at John, cocking her head to the side. “I was hoping he could help me find--” Thomas knew how this would end. Every time John provoked the little blonde girl, she would bring up that silly Wonderland fantasy. Then, Jane would get all defensive in that way of hers and start talking about science and how there was no such thing as Wonderland because all of the lands had already been discovered. Which then John would intervene saying that was a lie ensuing a total bickering match between the lot of them. Not that Thomas was completely innocent, usually he would side with John in those types of things. “Can we all just go back up to the treehouse?” He asked, cutting them off before disaster started. “I suppose.” Jane was the first to agree. John nodded soon after. They all crowded around the rope ladder. John went up first, then Jane, and Thomas followed her. Half way up Thomas called down to the ground, “Are you going to come, Alice?” She brightened, “I’m invited?” “‘Course you are.” He replied. At the same time John and Jane chorused a “no!” from inside the tree house. He whipped his head around and sent them a hard glare. “Oh, you only want her around cause you fancy her!” John teased, sticking out his tongue. Thomas turned almost as red as his hair. “I do not! Come on, Alice.” He finished climbing up the ladder and gave John a playful jab to the gut. He just laughed. John was the oldest, so he was the only one allowed to use the matches. He relight the candles one by one, after a few failed attempts. It was quiet for a while after that. At least, out loud. On the inside Thomas’ whirring thoughts were all shouting at once. He furrowed his eyebrows in frustration as he tried to sort them all out. “My mum is probably worried about me.” He said after a while. The guilt had been eating at him ever since he’d snuck out. “It’s not really your fault, Tommy.” John assured him. He was sitting across from Thomas with Jane on his right and Alice on his left. Thomas was opposite him, so Jane was on his left and Alice was on his right. He felt it was better the two girls not sit next to each other. “John is right, you know.” Jane added in her know-it-all voice. “And your daddy will be back before you know it, Thomas! And in the meantime you can share all of our daddies!” “My daddy is gone.” Alice said suddenly. It got quiet again. Eventually, the four of them all fell asleep. They were found there by Jane’s dad in the morning. Wrapped up in layers of blankets, John was surrounded by cracker crumbs and Thomas’ knapsack was suspiciously missing them. They were all leaning against the back wall opposite of the entrance. John had his skinny arms locked with Jane and Thomas who were on either side of him. Jane’s head was resting on John’s shoulder, which she was horrified to find out when they woke up and complained about how boney and uncomfortable it was the rest of the day. Alice had both her small arms wrapped around Thomas’ other arm, she was on the other side of him. Thomas, unlike Jane, didn’t mind that much. At least not until John found out and teased him about it relentlessly. Thomas still had to watch his dad leave, and he still had to put up with a house of women for eight whole months, but for some reason he felt better about it now. Every time they went up to the treehouse from that night on, Alice came with them. No one questioned it, no one complained. At least... for a little. “John, for the last time, there aren’t any more worlds to find!” Jane snapped. “Yeah there is! And Tommy and me are gonna find all of them!” “All of them? Even Wonderla--” “Alice!”