We’ve visited the past. Made a moodboard for where we are now. Now, I want you to look toward the future. Make a moodboard that represents where you are when you’re 70 years old. Hopefully you’re all still as badass as you are now, most importantly, let’s hope you’ve all finally worked out your issues.
Answer and use the the tag Willcoxweekly. If you’d like to look at some of the older stuff, you can answer these at any time
Based on the feedback received last week, Willcoxmoodboard and Willcoxweekly are going to merge into one activity. You will still have weekly prompts that while not required, you really should take the time to do. For the time being, after looking at what was actually being completely, willcoxweekly will focus solely on moodboard prompts because more people complete those.
Pick someone from history that you’d like to spend the day and have dinner with. Someone whose brain you might want to pick to learn more about something. Or maybe it’s a celebrity that you’ve wanted to meet, but never got the chance. Maybe it’s a family member that’s no longer here. Who ever it is, tell us why you’ve chosen them. What would you do during the day spent together? What would you serve for dinner - something to impress them or something completely mundane?
Answer and use the the tag Willcoxweekly. If you’d like to look at some of the older stuff, you can answer these at any time
We want your character to write a letter to their past self. Do they need some serious encouraging? What could they have said to make themselves and their life happier, better? Do they just want to remind themselves that they are actually as awesome as they think they are? Write it all down! Say whatever they need to say!
Answer and use the the tag Willcoxweekly. If you’d like to look at some of the older stuff, you can answer these at any time
Write a self para about an important moment in your characters life.
WHO? Beth Moran, Peter Fox
WHERE? Seattle, Washington- Fox household
WHEN? November 15th, 2008
TRIGGERS: Honestly dudes, this is just a shit ton of violence and fucked-upness. Mentions of suicide, domestic abuse, not fun shit.
NOTES: Beth finally breaks ties with her boyfriend of almost 3 years // a peek at the things she endured for that period of her relationship.
So often this treatment
Is way out of line
And that ran through my mind, over and over again
Promised myself you won't put your hand on me again
Never no more
Oh how Beth hated Saturdays, her one day off of the week and she spent them in the Moran home, as both his mother and father worked the longest shifts that day/night; Peter would have her at his mercy for at least 10 hours. In those hours she’d hear of all the things she had done wrong in the week, what a pathetic, ugly, disgrace she was-- today he was feeling kind and simply threw her down the stairs by the hair- the way her body went, how she curled into herself, at least she didn’t harm her head. How her body ached from the bruises that littered every inch of her body, how the burns on her shoulders and arms screamed out at her- she needed rest, she needed to get back to tend to them, but that wasn’t in the plans today. As she laid on the stairs landed, she didn’t dare make a move to shit up, her face tucked against her arm she actually thought of if Peter would one day kill her- if one day it would be too much, if she’d either die by his hands or by her own, she wasn’t entirely sure.
Being snapped out of her thoughts by a heavy kick to her stomach, she screamed out in pain, blood falling from her lips onto the carpet which only landed her to get her mouth tapped shut. At this point she didn’t cry, she couldn’t- or maybe she had run out of them at this point. Letting herself be dragged up the flight she had just been thrown down, she felt herself be thrown onto his bed. Sex for her was never about pleasure, it was about his power over her, his pleasure, him-- she’d said no for years, every time- everytime he’d drag her into the bathrooms at school to get his fill but she’d hear the same thing everything~
“You should be lucky I’m even fucking you babygirl, not like anyone else if going to touch you”
After he was done with her, he left-- he actually left the room and she simply turned into her side, pressing her face against the sheets as she curled into herself once more, taking in deep breathes through her nose, letting them out through her mouth-- calming her racing mind. How long could she take this? How long before she broke completely? She couldn’t do this anymore, she’d end up putting herself out of her own misery soon and how fucked up was that? The fact that that thought put a smile to her lips, to be free of all this shit, it made her smile. But she couldn’t give up, she refused to do as such, she was too stubborn to give him that satisfaction.
Ripping the tape from her mouth, she limped to the bathroom-- not caring if she was caught moving, she cupped water into her hands and washed out her mouth- taking a glance at her reflection-- her eye was already starting to swell shut, the right side of her cheek and jaw were now a dark black, as was her throat- the markings of fingers shown clearly, even on her tanned skin. She heard the footsteps before the door opened but once it did she didn’t have much time to react before a hand was holding her to the mirror by the back of the neck and Beth closed her eyes tightly- using all the strength she had left in her battered body to push him away and she was turning to face him, catching her footing.
“Did the little bird finally catch flight hm? Look at you.”
“I’m done, you’re not going to do this to me anymore.”
She couldn’t finish her sentence before she was being punched across the face, her hands catching her on the sink as she stood once more, feeling the blood fall from the counter of her mouth.
“I’m going to call the cops, my phone is at work- in my locker and it has all the voicemails, the texts, and with me looking like this- it’s not going to take much. You’re going to jail.”
As soon as those words left her mouth, she saw the anger in his face, she knew something was different and this time when she was grabbed by the neck, her head was forced back against the mirror, it shattering from the force. She fell to the floor after- trying to protect herself from kick after kick, but it was no use- she was too weak. Being dragged out of the bathroom, she was thrown back onto the floor where she was stuck again and again, but all of a sudden they stopped and her eyes opened, watching Peter straddling her waist, something shiny catching the light in his hand.
“That’s how it’s going to be is it, darling? After all I’ve done for you-- no one is going to want you, I’m the only one. You get that? You’re nothing Moran, no one wants you, how long have you been in that foster home? 17 years now, you’re fucking nothing, you’ll never be anything-- but mine of course, I’m going to make it so everyone knows, for the rest of your life.”
Beth didn’t have time to respond before one last blow was delivered and she was knocked out cold, unsure of the time, the day, the people as she was left in a pool of her now own blood.
A week later, after countless meetings with police, social workers, lawyers, Beth could say that she won. She might of been left alone, she might now be fucked up for years and years to come-- but she’d never allow another man to put his hands on her. She could make that promise to herself as she looked at her reflection in the hospital room bathroom, her eyes meeting her own gaze as she traced over the bandages over the left side of her face. Her face was black and blue, every inch of her body was-- over 100 stitches over her entire frame, half of them on her face, but--
“You changed my life for the better. You showed me that deep down inside, there was always a better version of myself. Thank you for bringing that woman out. Thank you for being the wind beneath my wings.” - Nikie B.
{nathaniel blackwood & ophelia batiste} {1/?} @liveincolorlia Before I fall too fast
Kiss me quick but make it last
So I can see how badly this will hurt me when you say goodbye
