#but also like i’m not sure what the best practices are to write a lisp

[sharkselfies]

finally actually got to this part of the terror novel and i think it’s super interesting to look at the full passage here:

the lisp is implemented pretty inconsistently—why does he stumble on the beginning sound in “psalm” and then proceed to only mess up the ends of words? why are there so many other “s” sounds that he doesn’t mess up on? i wonder how much of this can be attributed to simmons keeping the text legible vs if he’s trying to show that the lisp is just an upper-class mannerism jfj puts on and therefore only uses on some words? again, though, the mention of it getting worse with stress makes me think it’s not entirely affectation, but ig that’s technically crozier’s interpretation, so we don’t know if that’s an entirely accurate read on what’s happening here anyway.

i do kinda like that “is” is emphasized in the first line, because while simmons probably just meant it to sound forceful, one could interpret it as jfj trying to overcorrect on the first sibilant sound of the passage and then slipping up only as he continues, which is definitely something i do when reading out loud!

i would love to get my hands on an audiobook version of the terror to see how they handle this.

[marvelfansince08love]

My best friend and my sister

Word count: 3714

Pairing: Tammy x Miller!Reader (Lou’s younger sister)

Prompts requested: 1 “Why didn’t you tell me” 18 “How could you be so irresponsible?” 

A/N: For my sweet Anon, I hope you enjoy x Sorry it’s taking so long to get these out, I’ve been very burnt out recently but I’m back on track now! 

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @saucy-sapphic @witchxaf @creepingwolfberry​ @chewbacca0805​ @coconutlipss​

Prompts 1 & 18 

You and Lou had always been close growing up. Having such a cool older sister had its perks. Like when you were eight years old and you had pleaded and begged for that toy you had spotted in the window but your parents had shook their heads, not having enough money to afford ‘special gifts’. Those were only reserved for birthdays and Christmas’s. You had walked out of the store devastated with tears in your eyes until Lou walked you around the corner and revealed the toy from the depths of her long coat, a finger to her lips and a wink keeping the secret gift between you both. Lou had been seventeen then and was struggling to find a part time job to help pay some of the family's bills and so she could buy you gifts. 

“Every kid should have a few toys growing up. Including you, Y/N.” She would say. 

Once Lou had reached the sweet old age of twenty-one, an opportunity had presented itself before her, one that she just couldn't refuse. One right where the tall green statue stood proud overlooking the city of dreams. New York City was Lou's chance to make something of herself and, who were you to deny her of that?

"This could be good for us, Y/N! I could make enough money to bring you over and you can live with me!"  She had exclaimed, excitement filling her youthful blue eyes. You had nodded and basked in her excitement, the dreading feeling of abandonment slowly creeping its way through into your chest.

Once you had turned eighteen, Lou had kept to her promise of bringing you over to the big city, flying first class from Australia and leaving your parents down under, ready to start your new life; a better life. 

You had lived with Lou while studying in New York. Your apartment was small, but enough for the two of you. That was, until Lou introduced you to the infamous Deborah Ocean. The woman was beautiful and mysterious, her words carefully calculated, her dark eyes taking in the room before she had even stepped into it. You thought she was pretty badass compared to your older sister, especially when you found out what they did for a living. The ‘jobs’ that they did helped keep you both afloat through your first few years in New York City, especially when the bigger jobs were coming through, which helped you move into a bigger, fancier place that you could call home. 

That was the day you fell in love with the most breath-taking human you had ever laid eyes on. The woman was average height, her blonde hair resting against her breasts in soft curls. The small dark freckle on the corner of her upper lip drawing you in and oh, that wide smile that lit up her whole face making her brown eyes sparkle ever so slightly under the sunlight that seeped into the open living room space where you had stood, staring a little too long at this stunning woman.

"Stop drooling, kid. You're gonna end up needing the mop at this rate and we haven't even put an offer in yet," Debbie had whispered to you, teasing your love sick expression. You had snapped out of your gaze at that remark, stuttering over your words trying to defend yourself. You both stood and watched as Lou and this beautiful blonde discussed the price by the bay window overlooking the busy streets of New York. Tammy was her name, and it was the most beautiful name you had ever heard of, her soft voice showing a tiny hint of a lisp making you swoon just that bit more for her.

She was an old friend of Debbie's who knew just the right places for the best prices around the area, she had also helped with some of the more high profiled jobs when needed, mainly moving various illegal items across borders. You looked at the sweet blonde in awe, wondering how a woman like that could look so innocent and sweet. 

You had never gotten over that first meeting with Tammy but as the years went by and you matured into a strong minded individual, you realised that you'd rather ignore that pining feeling and continue on with your life as if nothing had changed within you that day. As if you hadn't pictured her breathless beneath you while you buried your fingers deep inside her throbbing heat or how good her left hand would look with a diamond ring on her finger letting everyone know she is yours and you are hers.

No, she was a friend of your sister… your older sister, and a good friend at that.

'Still, it doesn't stop you from thinking about how sweet she would sound moaning your name,' You think bitterly to yourself, hating that you still have this pull to her. 

That’s why you totally weren’t stalking her social media page as you entered your shared apartment with your older sister and her best friend. Briefcase in hand and your eyes glued to your phone screen, eyes transfixed on the sweet blonde who’s smile still makes your stomach flutter. 

You were so invested in your scrolling that you had missed the knowing smirk shared between your sister and her best friend. 

“Hey Kid, how was your first day on the job?” Lou asks, hiding her smirk beneath her coffee mug as Debbie lays out the new flooring plans for their next big job. You look up at the sound of her voice, taking in the blue papers on the living room table.

“Yeah, it was good! The students were lovely and eager, which was encouraging.” You gush, the excitement from your first successful day distracting you from the breath-taking photos of your secret crush.

“God, just the thought of college makes me shiver now. Thank god I develop my skills as a con artist.” Debbie jokes, her eyes trained on the carefully mapped out plan. You move to sit next to her, leaning your chin onto her shoulder pointing at an unmarked area on the layout plans. 

“If you place the camera chip by the corner on the east wing here, that should cover up to the left side of the entryway down the hall.” You mumble, before grabbing Debbie’s hot coffee and taking a sip. Lou scoffs from her seat across but you can spot the pride in her eyes. Living with two very intelligent con artists has its perks. Debbie kisses the top of your head with enthusiasm.

“You’re the best, pumpkin. Still think you’re going down the right career path?” She questions, a playful smirk appearing on her lips making you shake your head as you move towards your bedroom. 

“You guys have your thing, I have mine. Besides, I’m far too good for your lil crew, Ocean.” You joke, turning to wink at the brunette before heading into your room. You falter slightly upon closing your door hearing your sister’s voice shout through to you from the other side. 

“The ‘crew’ are coming over later to go through the plan. You wanna join us?!” You bump your head lightly against your wooden door, already feeling the knowing smirks coming from both women. 

“Maybe. I’ll see how I feel later.” You reply against the door, before moving away and removing your work clothes piece by piece, leaving a trail of material towards the en-suite bathroom. 

Placing your phone on the drawer by the bathroom door, you head in for a shower completely missing the new text message from your favourite blonde.

Hey darling! I hope your first day went well. Can’t wait to hear all about it tonight! Tam x

***

Writing up the last few lines for your lesson plans, you look towards the digital clock on your desk as your stomach flutters in anticipation at seeing the blonde. You see, you may have never seeked out your intentions with Tammy but you would be fooling yourself if you thought you were over your silly crush on the woman. 

A loud knock on your door interrupts your thoughts. 

“Y/N! They’ll be here soon, are you joining us or not?” Lou’s deep voice came muffled from the other side of your door.

“Uh, yeah. Let me finish up this lesson plan and I’ll be out.” You reply, distracted by your thoughts. Shaking your head, you refocus back onto the task at hand before you can let your thoughts trail off into a much more filthier place.

You continue to write in your planner making sure that every detail has been looked over at least twice wanting everything to be perfect, completely unaware of the unannounced presence that stands by your doorway leaning heavily against the doorframe, soft eyes gazing lovingly at your hunched over figure. 

“Hey, you.” 

The voice startles you from your productivity, making you gasp and swirl around swiftly at the unexpected voice. Hand on chest, you try to catch your breath as the sweet angelic sound of Tammy’s laughter echoes throughout the bedroom. 

“Oh my god, Tammy! You gotta warn me next time.” You breathe, turning back to rearrange your notepad and planner. Tammy chuckles this time before pushing away from the doorframe and making herself comfortable at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry darling, but we’ve been out there for nearly an hour and well.. I missed you. We haven’t hung out with you much lately and we’re missing our most valuable member of the crew.” She confesses, a small smile playing on her lips as she takes in your room. You feel your heart flutter at the thought of her missing you, but you quickly squish down the thought knowing she didn’t mean just her but the rest of the gang. 

“Oh shit! I hadn’t realised the time. You guys haven’t ordered yet, right?” You ask, eyes hopeful and mouth watering at the thought of some delicious greasy pizza. 

“We have..” You pout at her words before watching her smile wide at you. “But don’t worry Y/N, I ordered your favourite.” She informs you with a smug expression. You leap out of your chair and practically leap towards her, placing your arms around her shoulder you press a big kiss to her cheek before moving away just as quickly heading for the living room.

“This is why you’re my favourite, Tam Tam.” You exclaim, already out of the room before she could blink. Within your excitement you missed how the blonde touched her cheek where you had placed the kiss onto her scorching skin, a tint of pink blushing across her cheeks. 

Yeah, you weren’t the only one smitten. 

***

Over the next few days, you had helped your sister and her crew form the perfect plan to take over the new Randervelt Museum and their very expensive art pieces. Debbie had dropped enough hints that you ended up being a part of the plan. 

“We can’t do this without you, Y/n.” 

“The money is good.” 

How could you say no? After all, you were a Miller and the thrill of a heist had always been appealing to you ever since your sister brought you along to your first one when you turned 21. “It’s tradition”, Lou had said. 

During that time, you had noticed Tammy had been awfully quiet around you. Sometimes you would catch her staring just a little too long at you before she would turn away and engage in conversation with one of the others, as if nothing was wrong. You had tried to talk to her about her odd behaviour but every time you got her alone, she would make some kind of excuse to not be around you. 

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt but the plan had gone smoothly with everyone accounted for, all except for well... you. 

“Where is she, Constance?” Tammy raged through her earpiece, getting ready to jump back out of the van and go searching for you herself. 

“She’s got caught up with that big ass guard. I’m going to intervene to see if I can get her out of the way.” Constance replies, far too calm for her liking. 

“What do you mean caught up with the guard?! What’s he saying to her?” 

“I dunno but, uh… it seems like he’s flirting with her.” Tammy gulps slightly at that, feeling her stomach drop. 

“Well, get him to back off before I come in there and do it myself.” She says through gritted teeth.

“Alright girl, chill the F out. I’ll go get your girl.” She mumbles into her ear. Tammy’s eyes widen at the blunt statement as she hears quiet chuckling from the others. 

“Ladies, can we please focus? This is my sister and I swear to god if anything happens to her I- just… Constance, go and get her. Me and Debbie are going to bring round the other truck so we can transfer the paintings over to you, got it?” Lou’s authoritative voice crackles through the earpiece. A collective of sorry's are mumbled across the team as everyone returned back to the task at hand. Tammy holds her breath, waiting for Constance's confirmation of a safe exit with you in toe. 

“Got her. We’re on our way out now, be ready for us.” 

She can finally breathe again.

***

The journey back to the warehouse was quiet and tense. Tammy tried to let go of the pent up frustration and unwanted anger of having you in such a situation in the first place, but she couldn’t seem to drop it. That is, if her knee bouncing rapidly had anything to say about it. 

You kept your eyes fixed on the empty seat across from you, knowing that a certain pair of  brown doe eyes were burning into your skull from the spot across. Once you had all entered the apartment, the team disperses towards the living area bringing in the pieces one by one. 

Tammy is no longer able to keep her thoughts to herself, the words ready to spill from her throat. 

“How could you be so irresponsible?” She scolded, turning towards you. 

Your eyes widen as you gape at her, showing your shock at her blunt words. 

You can hear Lou chastising Tammy quietly in warning from across the room, but from the look on the blonde's face she wasn’t about to listen to her friend.  

“Excuse me?” You exclaim, taking a step closer to her. 

“You could have gotten into some serious trouble back there Y/N, if that guy had caught onto what you were doing.. You need to be more careful.” She lectured, trying to slow down her rapid breathing knowing that secretly, deep down, it wasn’t your fault. 

“Are you being serious right now?!” You question, baffled by her defensive behaviour. 

“I knew it was a bad idea putting you in danger like that. I should have said something.” Tammy mutters to herself, but her words are clear enough for you to hear. 

“What do you mean, Tam? Is that why you’ve been so weird with me? I knew there was something up with you.” You summarize, pointing an accusing finger at the blonde. You notice at the corner of your eye, the other woman silently leaving the room, clearly not wanting to be involved. 

Your eyes catch your sisters, her crystal blue eyes staring back at you with understanding and knowing, baffling you even more before Debbie escorts her reluctant form out of the room, knowing that you are old enough to deal with the problem at hand.

“Okay, fine! I was pissed off, alright? I hated the fact that you were dragged into yet another job, an illegal job might I add. You are doing something good with your life right now, darling. I don’t want you getting mixed up in all of this. You’re too good for this.” She says, indicating towards the stolen art pieces. You frown at just how concerned she is with your involvement.

“Why do you care so much, Tam? I’m just your best friend's kid sister, remember?” You mock, remembering back to the time when you overheard her conversation with Debbie about your odd relationship with the older woman. 

“She’s young, Debs. I’m merely being a friend.”  Those were her words back then and they still stung to this day. 

Tammy drops her gaze, shame evident, remembering how she saw your retreating form from the corner of her eye back when she spoke to Debbie about her confusing feelings towards you.  

“I only said that because I was too scared to admit how I actually felt about you, Y/N.” Her voice soft, faltering slightly under her confession. Her eyes bright with unshed tears, her shoulders dropping as if the weight of her secret love for you has been lifted. You gape at the woman in front of you, overwhelmed with uncertainty and hope.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You managed to croak out, unable to form further words. 

Tammy shrugs her shoulders in defeat, before slowly meeting your conflicted gaze. You could see the vulnerability in those big brown eyes, making you step towards her. That instant pull between you growing stronger just like it had during that first meeting. 

“What, and tell your sister ‘oh hey, I know I’m one of your closest friends but I’m in love with your younger sister’? I don’t think that would have gone down well back then, do you?” You both chuckle slightly realising how ridiculous this all is. 

“I’m pretty sure she’s known something was going on,” you pause for a minute, thinking carefully about your next words. “Because I dunno if you know this, but I’ve been in love with you since I first laid my eyes on you.” You confess, folding your arms across your chest as if to protect yourself from your own words. 

Before you could apologise or take back your words, scared by the fallen silence that has settled between you both, Tammy walks the last few steps towards you placing her hands gently against your jaw, cupping your face within the palms of her hands. The tenderness within her hold makes you want to cry at just how much love seeps from her one single touch. 

“I would very much like to kiss you.” She whispers, her lips an inch away from your own. You close your eyes basking in the moment before you reply. 

“Then, do it.” Her lips clash with your own at your words, desperate as if they’ve been waiting a million years just to touch your own soft lips. Her tongue traces along your bottom lip making you part your lips ever so slightly but enough for her to trace her tongue along your own, fighting for dominance. Bringing your hands up, you thread your fingers through long blonde locks keeping her close not wanting to break away just yet. You continue with this fight for dominance with your mouths before the distinctive sound of someone gagging makes you break apart. 

Turning your heads to the side, you both see Lou and the others stood by the doorway with stupid grins on their faces. All except for Lou, who was fake gagging next to Debbie who just rolled her eyes at her best friend's antics. 

“Are you guys done sucking each other's faces? Because I wanna order pizza.” Nine says with indifference, before moving into the room and towards the kitchen where the food menus lay scattered on the kitchen island table. 

The others laugh watching as you both fluster at being caught making out like teenagers. You eye up your sister who has been very quiet about the whole exchange, feeling Tammy shift uncomfortably next to you clearly waiting for your sister to react. 

You keep a supportive arm around her waist, silently telling her that no matter what you’re both stronger than the rejection. Lou walks agonizingly slowly towards you both with a stoic face, giving nothing away while Debbie rolls her eyes at her friend's dramatics, once again. 

“My best friend and my sister...” Is all she says, as if trying to piece the information together out loud. 

You gulp once she’s up close to you, standing with her arms crossed as her eyes flicker between you and Tammy. The silent exchange feels like it goes on for a century before she breaks out into a huge smile, showing her pearly white teeth and her arms out wide towards you both.

“My best friend and my sister!” She exclaims excitingly, before pulling you both into a three-way hug. You both lock eyes over your sister’s shoulder, relief evident in those perfect brown eyes making you grin softly. 

“Yeah, me and your sister, Lou.” Tammy says as she laughs at your sister's antics. Lou pulls back, holding your shoulders with her hands eyeing your now clasped hands. 

“Just don’t make it gross, yeah? She’s still my little sister and I will kick your arse if you hurt her, Tam Tam.” Lou threatens, but the tone of her voice clearly shows she’s only half joking. 

You roll your eyes at your sister’s empty threat before she bops you on the nose, which you bat away with your free hand. 

“That goes for you as well, kid. She’s still one of my best friends, you hurt her in any way then me and you will be having words. Got it?” She promises, before winking and walking back towards the kitchen where the others have been not so subtly listening in to the exchange. 

You look at the blonde in front of you, taking in her soft features and perfect smile, overwhelmed with love for this woman in front of you.  Leaning in, you kiss the corner of her mouth softly. 

“I could never hurt you Tam Tam. Who would get my pizza order right, if not you?” You tease, watching the mischievous glint burn within her brown eyes as she playfully shoves you. 

“You, dork.” Grabbing her hand quickly, you place it over your heart and whisper. 

“But I’m your dork,” you smile cheekily at her.

“Yeah, my dork.” She confirms, her adoring eyes gazing into your own thinking to herself. 

Finally.

[sprnklersplashes]

songwriter!janis fic (unrequited crush, no-very-happy-ending) 

also on ao3

It all started because she loved Taylor Swift when she was in middle school. Who is she kidding, she still loves Taylor Swift, but that’s where all this began. A middle school girl’s obsession with Taylor Swift. A confused, sad girl with a broken heart and smudged black eyeliner, finding refuge in lyrics about loneliness and anger and revenge. They became anthems for her, mantras to mutter when the warzone of middle school became too much for her.

“Someday, I’ll be living in a big old city, and all you’re ever gonna be is mean.”

“Cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in.”

“I can still see you, this ain’t the best view.”

It amazes her. It’s honestly as if Taylor Swift has managed to look into her life and given her a bundle of songs for whatever she needs. For when Regina has thrown her one too many snide looks, for when she’s standing at the door of North Shore High on her first day, for when she eats lunch alone, for when her mom is the best mom she could have asked for, for when she and Damian are lying on the grass in her backyard, staring up at the sky, laughing at absolutely nothing. The songs become the soundtrack to her life, the chords and those raw, honest lyrics an emotional outlet she so desperately craves. Taylor, and her songs, become a confidant, almost a close friend who always knows what to say.

With all that in mind, perhaps it was only a matter of time before she asks for a guitar for Christmas. She’s fourteen, braces and a slight lisp, and jumps up and down like a mad woman when she sees it under the tree.

She practices for three days straight, until her fingers bleed, but Should’ve Said No is the first song she learns off by heart. She yells the lyrics with maybe a little too much passion, but her parents applaud her nonetheless.

Like she said, that’s how it all started.

Because that same Christmas, she realises that screaming her feelings while playing guitar actually feels pretty cathartic. And that if it worked for Taylor Swift, it could work for her. So she writes stuff down, plays around with chords and strumming until the beat on the guitar matches the one in her head. She grabs a page and a pencil and writes and re-writes her innermost thoughts and feelings on the page until they sound the way she wants them to. She plays around with rhyme schemes and structure and everything she’s been taught about in English class, and a thrill runs through her as she does so. It’s the same breathless high she feels when she paints or draws, the rush that comes from creating something.

Her parents sit on the other side of her bedroom door, no doubt exchanging worried glances as she repeats the same verse, same chorus, with only a word changed. She watches them when they think she can’t see, peering through the crack in her door. The conclusion they seem to come to is ‘well, as coping mechanisms go, it’s pretty good, and she’s happy, so who are we to stop it?’.

It takes her four days to finish her first song. And it sucks. But she keeps it, writes down the lyrics and chords in one of the few empty notebooks she has, and there’s no going back from it now. She writes, and she writes, and she writes, near enough every day. She likes to think she gets better with each one. She learns more chords, buys a cheap ukulele the summer after freshman year, tries her hand at piano during a particularly difficult few weeks. She doesn’t plan on doing anything with them. They’re just her little pieces to hold on to. Her therapy sessions outside the carpeted office.

No-one knows about it. She has a reputation to keep up, after all. The loner-by-choice, too-cool-for-school, aloof art freak. Everyone has their roles to play in the ecosystem that is high school and, much as she hates the entire system, that is hers to play. And she plays it well, if she may say so. The fact that hardly anyone knows her past that facade suits her just fine. After all, if people think she doesn’t care, she can’t get hurt. No-one needs to know that Janis Sarkisian actually has feelings.

Even less need to know that she writes songs about said feelings.

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

By the time she reaches her junior year, she’s onto her third notebook. She keeps them tucked away in her sock drawer, expertly hidden so only she can find them. Damian teases her about it, calling her “the protagonist of a Disney Channel Original Movie”. She just rolls her eyes and reminds him that “if either of us is gonna be Disney’s first openly gay character, it’ll be you”. He can’t argue with that.

It should be noted that when Janis said that no-one knows about her songwriting, Damian was the obvious exception. He found out just weeks after she started. There’s no keeping secrets from him.

Between all her notebooks, she’s written around forty songs.

Then she meets Cady Heron one day. The human embodiment of a labrador puppy, complete with wide, lost eyes. She likes her instantly, decides to take her under her wing because Lord knows the girl needs it. Cady’s smile is infectious, her laugh like a summer breeze. She has dimples and caramel-coloured hair and really likes maths.

She meets Cady on a Monday.

By that Saturday, song number 41-titled “Dimples and Curls” is more or less complete.

She plays it for Damian, hands only slightly shaking as she changes chords, the strumming short and upbeat, the melody strangely happy for such a bittersweet song.

He applauds her, but the subject of the song hangs in the air even after she’s played the last chord and the music fades. Unsaid, but not unknown. Just like her songwriting, Janis couldn’t keep a crush from Damian if she tried.

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

“Hey, check it out.”

Cady drops onto the seat across from Janis, the whole table shaking as she does so. Like a small meteor just hit Earth. Janis looks up from her lunch, pretending like she had been doing her own thing and not watching the door until Cady came in. Pretending like her stomach doesn’t do little flips at the sight of her crossing the cafeteria. She pulls the flyer towards her and hums in amusement.

“The winter talent show,” she reads before chomping off a carrot stick. “Oh, is it that time of year already?”

“Seems like only yesterday we was welcoming the young’uns into this brave new world during the harvest season,” Damian sighs, putting on a delightfully over the top Southern Belle accent, no doubt influenced by their reading of Streetcar Named Desire in English class. Janis cackles, and nearly chokes on her lunch as she does.

“And now the cold winds of winter are descending upon us,” she replies, her accent equally heavy. She bats her eyes for good measure, because she can and because it makes Cady laugh. “Oh but I pray the children will survive this season, it is often rough for them.”

“I am never showing you two anything winter related ever again,” Cady says.

Janis just shrugs and runs her hand through her hair before her eyes go back to the flyer. Clearly, whatever sophomore they got to design it this year did their best; found the prettiest looking snowflakes on Google Images to put on the cartoon stage, decided to write in some swirling, slanted font rather than the start-studded block lettering they usually went for. It’s still the same as it is every year, meaning just as mockable, but she’ll give them points for tying.

“Well, anyone here going for it?” she asks. She looks from Damian to Cady and back again, a teasing smirk on her lips. “Last year and all that.”

“Not sure I can,” Damian sighs. “I mean, I’m booked up with Spelling Bee rehearsals and spring cabaret auditions happening next semester.” He drums his fingers against his throat. “Gotta give the little vocal chords some rest, you know?”

Janis’ response is to sing the lowest note she possibly can before turning to Cady and giving her a pointed look, the corner of her mouth quirked up.

“Who? Me?” Cady’s cheeks turned crimson and she shakes her head so much that the caramel curls bounced around her shoulders. “No way. Damian can take the stage, I’m fine with my calculators and textbooks.”

“You could always solve equations in front of everyone,” Janis says. “I could call out college-level questions from the audience and you solve them in under 30 seconds.”

“I think I’ll pass,” she giggles. She leans forward slightly, eyes glittering, and Janis does her best not to squirm. The effect Cady Heron’s eyes have on her should be studied by scientists. “What about you, Janis?”

“I don’t know.” She thinks back to when she helped on stage crew last year, as well as helping out (or taking over) with the set design. It had been fun, the kind of challenge she needed to keep her mind off the slowly-going-off-the-rails plan. And she was told it looked good on her college applications, because all people can think about apparently is college, college, college. “Maybe. They might need another genius stage manager.”

“And you’ll step in if they can’t find one?” She digs Damian in the ribs for that comment.

“But not performing?” Cady asks, and Janis freezes. Performing had never even crossed her mind before. She’s used to backstage, hell, she likes backstage. It’s not that she has stage fright or anything, and if she had, her stunt at Ms Norbury’s little healing session would have squished it. She had just never thought about it.

But Cady had, apparently.

“I-No, I-I don’t think so,” she stammers out. “Um, I might do backstage again, but not actually doing something, you know, talent related.” She bites her tongue and clamps her lips shut before anything else can come out.

“Okay then,” Cady replies slowly. She gets up from the table, her little empty water bottle in her hands. “I’m going to go for a refill, save my seat.”

“No problem,” Janis says, but Cady’s already jogging away.

She doesn’t know if it’s good or bad that Cady’s known her too long to think of her as cool, and so this kind of awkward babbling isn’t really surprising to her. Instead of thinking about it, she just sets her head on the table and lets Damian rub her back.

“You were nowhere near as bad as you think you were,” he assures her.

“Title of your sex tape,” comes her murmured reply. Damian chuckles and runs his fingers through her hair, like she’s his pet cat. It helps.

“So you’re definitely not going for the talent show then?” he asks.

Her first instinct is to say no, because of course she isn’t, because she never has before and she sees no point in breaking a three-year streak, but the answer catches in her throat. At the same time, something begins forming in her brain, pieces of a melody she’s already known, words filling in blank spots in her brain, and her fingers twitch involuntarily, playing the chords on an invisible guitar. Without a word, she grabs a notepad and pen from her bag and scribbles the words down before she forgets them, quickly becoming breathless just by sitting there. She forgets, for a moment, everything else, the talent show, Cady, even Damian next to her, and just revels in the task and the quick buzz she gets just from writing. Just like that she has one eye on the clock, itching to get home and put her notes into the rest of the song.

But with those notes came an idea, an idea so completely out of left field she almost laughs at it.

“Janis?” Damian asks, just slightly unnerved by her. If anyone else were at this table, even Cady (especially Cady), she would have had to excuse herself and run to the bathroom, or just hope the words stayed in her head long enough for her to get a quiet moment. “Did the Goddess of Music just possess you again?”

“Maybe,” is her response. He doesn’t know it, but she answered both the questions he asked in the past minute.

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She sits on her bed that night, her homework half-done and strewn across the desk, abandoned in favour of the guitar sitting in her lap and notebook open on her bed. She’s been working on his song for the better part of a week, inspiration and motivation seemingly striking and then fading whenever she gets a free moment. Abandoning it has crossed her mind-she’s no stranger to abandoning things that aren’t working-but for some reason she hasn’t quite been able to shake this particular song off.

Maybe it is Euterpe, the Goddess of Music, descending upon her because this song has to be finished, it has to be, Olympus willing it so.

Or maybe it’s because this song is one of the most personal things she’s ever written, a love letter she’ll never send, and the idea of it sitting unfinished drives her crazy.

She plays another chord and sings the line again, changing the ending slightly, and makes the adjustment in her notes.

She’s crazy. This is already crazy, her secret double life as a wannabe T-Swift, but now she’s gone beyond that. Thinking of actually playing it. On a stage. In front of people. She doesn’t care what people think of her, she stopped caring about that a long, long time ago, but holy shit what will people think of her after she does this? Life isn’t like the movies, she knows that much. It won’t be some pretty, softly-lit moment where the crowd sits with teary eyes, Cady runs onstage and kisses her and she’s offered a deal by some big shot producer, and they all live happily ever after the end. What could happen is people think she’s even more of a weirdo than they do now.

Or she gets tomatoes thrown at her head and she’s booed off the stage. That’s a possibility.

She calls Damian, because that’s the only way she sees out of her little thought cul-de-sac. She puts the phone on speaker and props it up against a pillow, keeping her hands free for her guitar and her pen. He picks up on the third ring, just as she’s strumming out a G chord.

“Oh, is someone prepping for her Grammy?” he asks. “You’re still taking me as your date, right?”

“Only if my dog can’t go,” she replies. She taps her nails against the wood, the rhythm too fast and frantic to just be a habit. Yes, she can tell Damian anything, and being nervous in front of him is laughable, but sometimes her body forgets that. “So, I was thinking about the talent show.”

“Oh? You’re going for stage crew again? Cool.”

“No-not exactly.” She knows he can’t see the smile creeping across her face, but she’d wager he can hear it through the phone. A small swarm of butterflies flutters in her chest, leaving her just slightly out of breath. “I… I. think I’m going to try performing in it.”

A burst of laughter comes through the phone, slightly tinged with static, and Janis wishes he were here so she could slap him. Even if it’s not malicious in intent at all, and she’s laughing right along with him. Slapping is kind of a love language for them.

“Okay, okay cool. What’re you going to do?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” she says, and then she plays the opening chords to her latest experiment. She doesn’t add in the lyrics, not yet. Still, she sits back and basks in his applause when she finishes, cackling into her hand. He might be one person, but he’s got enough enthusiasm to match a packed auditorium. “What do you think?”

“I’m into it,” he tells her. “So… that’s the one you’re doing?”

“Think so.” She tosses the pick between her fingers. Like he could feel her smile, she can feel his raised eyebrow through the phone, the elephant in the room poking her with its trunk. “Yes, I know.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought it,” she tells him, and he doesn’t deny it. She looks back over the lyrics she’s written and re-written. Despite some adjustments, it’s still in essence the same. Still about a girl with pretty hair who smells like vanilla and cinnamon, who has a boyfriend and is unknowingly breaking the heart of a girl with black eyeliner and paint stained fingers. Because her boyfriend is pretty and clean and smells like soap and can do math, and how is the poor art girl even meant to compare to that?

“Yes,” she says after a while. “It is about Cady.”

“Aw, my poor lovestruck songstress,” he sighs. He shifts then, and the air shifts with him. “You sure that’s the one you want to sing? I mean you have dozens of other non-Cady related songs. I’m sure Mr Duvall would love to hear Angry Teenage Lesbian Anthem.”

“First off, I gave that one a title, it’s called Shattered,” she reminds him. “And-” She freezes, the rest of her sentence catching in her throat. He’s right. She could perform one of her other songs, that are already finished and therefore removing the pressure to have this one finished, polished and stage-ready. And of course, it would mean she wouldn’t be standing in front of her entire grade and telling them all how badly she’s in love with her best friend. Showing her deepest secret to the people who have already driven her out of school once. It’s a far safer, potentially less traumatic option for her.

But…

“No,” she says. “I know it sounds crazy but I feel like… I feel like I need to do this.” She swallows thickly and picks softly at the guitar strings. “It’s like… like this way at least I’m telling her, you know? Even if she doesn’t know it.”

Of course, Damian gets it.

“That’s beautiful, babe,” he tells her. “So you’re actually doing this?”

“I’m actually doing this,” she replies firmly. “And tomorrow, I need you to make sure I don’t chicken out before I sign up.”

“Got it. I’ll just order you to do it as Senior Co-Chair of the Student Activities Committee.”

“That’s an abuse of power.”

“Then consider yourself abused baby.” He laughs and she laughs with him, and then she hears something on Damian’s end. “I have to go. A certain little sister of mine has a princess costume that needs attending to. See you later.”

“See you later,” she replies before he clicks off the call. She looks down at her paper, then at her guitar, and thinks about what she just committed to. “I’ve got some work to do.”

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The song goes through four rewrites in the weeks leading up to the talent show. The whole first verse is changed, the chorus scrapped and replaced with a new one, then that one is scrapped and she goes back to the old one. She sits hunched on her floor with a pencil in her mouth, wondering if what she’s written is too personal or not personal enough. If it’s too obvious that Cady, smart cookie that she is, will work it out and that’ll lead them down a new, scary path. She cuts some lyrics that give the game away, opting to replace one about love for numbers with love for learning, because that opens up the pool to half their grade. She writes about Cady’s blue eyes rather than specifically those double dimples that make her melt. Maybe she’s compromising her artistic vision, but it might be worth it if it’ll keep her crush a secret. She keeps the old lyrics tucked in the back of her notebook, just to have them.

Meanwhile, she’s also dealing with the fact that people know she has signed up for the talent show. That Miss Too Cool For School Loner Art Freak Janis is actually performing at a school event. And she doesn’t even get extra credit for it. They’re surprised, and curious, and none more so than Cady. The other girl appears at her side almost instantly after first period, skinny little arms wrapped around her bicep and blue eyes alight.

Oh, the things those eyes do to her.

“Janis!” she squeaks. “I saw-on the sign up sheet-your name! Oh my God, is this a joke? Did Damian put you up to it?”

“No, no, I signed up of my own accord,” Janis tells her. That only makes Cady bounce more, ponytail bobbing up and down.

“Oh wow, that’s amazing!” she says. She stops then, her mouth freezing in its place and her cheeks turning pink. Slowly, she comes down to Earth, like a balloon that had the air let out of it. Janis can almost hear the wheeze. “I mean um, it’s pretty cool, I guess.”

“It’s pretty grool,” Janis replies, and just like that Cady bounces back up again.

“Oh my gosh, what are you going to do?” she asks. “Or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“You think I have some secret knife-throwing talent?” she grins. She hesitates for a moment, looking down at Cady’s excited face, because even if this isn’t telling her… it’s telling her. “I’m… I’m going to sing.” She pulls on the strap of her backpack and avoids Cady’s eyes. “Something I wrote.”

“Okay,” Cady says. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“Hey!” she laughs. “I can write stuff. I can be deep.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about it,” Cady says, bumping her arm against Janis’. “But for real, Janis, I can’t wait to see it. I know you’ll be amazing.”

Warmth spreads across her pale cheeks, a pink blush no doubt colouring her face, and she somehow manages to choke out a “thanks” as her brain turns to static. Her only thought is ‘Cady thinks I’m going to be good’, and it’s written in glitter pen across her brain.

“This is going to be great,” she goes on. “Oh, wait until I tell Aaron. He’s got a break in his schedule that week so he’s coming up to see the talent show! Isn’t that great?”

And just like that, Janis’ good mood falls. Her face stays the same, because she’s trained to do it, but everything behind it crumbles.

“Yeah, that’s great,” she replies. Cady squeezes her hand, oblivious, and drags her along the hallway, chatting away about some lion documentary she had watched last night.

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She finishes the song that night. She arrives home with a heavy chest, so full of complicated, messy feelings, and her conversation with Cady still so fresh in her mind, her ears still ringing from the emotional whiplash. Her parents barely get a ‘hello’ as she enters and bolts up to her room, her hands shaking, the thoughts swirling around her brain desperate to be let out.

And let them out she does. She writes so quickly they look more like smudges than words, her fingers flying over rapidly changing chords, her voice broken and panting as she sings. The words almost write themselves, like the song has taken on a life of its own and she’s just along for the ride. She barely remembers to pause, to breathe, so wrapped up in the storm she’s created with just her guitar and pen.

It’s only when she finishes and falls back on her bed that she notices the tears in her eyes. She blinks them away and pulls herself up, her notebook in her hand. It’s done. The perfect blend of her own honest feelings and just enough smokescreen to keep people from knowing who it’s really about.

There’s no backing out now, she thinks. Her stomach drops, like she’s on the top of a roller coaster about to go down. A laugh bubbles up in her throat and leaves her breathless, her head spinning while she’s still laying there.

If holy shit were am adjective, she'd use it to describe how she feels. Because holy shit.

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Being backstage when she’s not on crew is a strange experience. She stands with her guitar slung around her body, in the middle of a current of students moving around her, half with the clunky microphones and walkie-talkies she’s used so many times before. She asks five of them if she can do anything to help-because they’re her people and she needs to do something to occupy her time-until she finally takes the hint and leaves them to it. Stagehands are the most efficient parts of any production, as she told Damian once. They’re a well-oiled machine at this point.

“Yo!” For a second, Janis thinks she imagined the whisper, just one in a jumble of backstage noises, until Damian appears at her side. A tiny ‘shit’ escapes her mouth, her body jerking. Barely anyone bats an eye at her, except him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.”

“Don’t worry. I think at this point a small breeze could knock into me and I’d crumble.”

“The great Janis Sarkisian gets nervous?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“Only when she’s doing something incredibly personal and scary in front of her entire grade,” she whispers back. She swallows past the lump in her throat. “Aside from that I’m a beacon of confidence and unshakable will.”

“Hey.” He taps his knuckles against hers. “Remember how scared you were at Norbury’s assembly?”

“You mean after I had my picture all over the school with the d-slur written underneath it?” she mutters. “Yeah, I was shitting myself.”

“And yet, look what you did there,” he reminds her. “You were amazing. And you’re going to be amazing here too. Once you get on that stage, all those butterflies are going to make you fly, kid.”

She smiles, her heart warm, and pressed her face into the crook of Damian’s neck.

She doesn’t know how she got so lucky to have him, but she knows better than to tempt fate.

“Janis Sarkisian?” She lifts her head to find a freshman girl with a headset around her neck looking at her. “You’re up next.”

“Okay.” It’s only now she becomes aware that the last minute of Fairytale Of New York is playing, the notes will soon fade out, and that’s her cue. She turns to Damian and lets him straighten her black cardigan and fiddle with the collar of her shirt. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it.” He drops a whisper of a kiss to her nose. “But good luck.”

She holds her half-heart necklace as he goes, the twin to the one around his neck. It’s as close as she can get to having him with her. Her chest tightens as she makes her way to the stage and she tries to breathe through it, because the next thign she knows, Mr Duvall is announcing her name, and she’s being greeted by a blinding spotlight that thankfully obscures most of her peers’ faces.

“Uh, hi,” she says into the microphone placed out for her. It’s just people , she reminds herself. Somewhere in that crowd, second row, seat 14, is Damian, and she breathes easier. And next to him is Cady, the girl this song is about, and for some reason that straightens her spine and irons out the shaking in her voice. She takes the pick out of its holder and tosses her hair back. “This is a song I wrote about being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.” She blinks and hopes no-one sees the tears in her eyes. “So sing along if you get into it, because we all know it’s a shitty ass feeling.”

She plays the first chord, and then any and all doubts she had about this flee her. As cliche as it sounds, the song takes over her, and she blows through the nerves in the first verse. The experience becomes cathartic instead, like releasing a pressure valve on her soul. Even with the little diversions she threw in, she hasn’t felt this open and god damn free since last year, paraded on her peers’ shoulders with both middle fingers up. Except now she’s not flipping anyone off, or proving a point, she’s just finally telling someone how she feels, and holy shit, it’s amazing. Whatever the aftermath of this is, she won’t care, it’s worth it just for this feeling.

As she sings the last word, and that final note rings in the auditorium, her hands are shaking, her cheeks wet with tears and her hair sticky with sweat. She touches beneath her eye and her fingers come away stained black.  She hasn’t cried in front of people since middle school. She doesn’t care.

The cheers of her classmates ring in her ears, Damian’s whooping the loudest of all, and as she takes her bow, she hopes she’ll remember this moment for a long time.

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“Oh my God!” she’s barely into the auditorium when Cady launches herself at her, arms wrapped around her neck and legs circling her waist. Janis nearly topples over, digging her back leg into the ground just in time, and hugs Cady with the same ferocity. “You were amazing!” she yells into her shoulder, the sound muffled by Janis’ hair.

“Really?”

“Absolutely.” She sets Cady down, but the other girl keeps a tight grip on both her arms. Janis wonders if it’s to keep herself from flying away, given the amount of bouncing up and down she’s doing. “I can’t believe you wrote that! It was so good! You need to record it, Jan. Do you have any other songs?”

“Just a few,” she says. “And I don’t know if I’m in the business of making an album any time soon.” She swings her guitar case a little. “This might have been a one-time thing.”

“Well, even if it was, it was awesome,” she says.

“Thank you, Caddy,” Janis replies. “That means a lot.”

Her mouth runs dry as Cady smiles, all baby pink lipgloss and sparkling eyes and full cheeks. If this were a movie, she thinks, this would be the part where they kiss. No need for talking, or an explanation. Because Cady would have just known. The music would turn soft and twinkly, and the lighting would match it and it would look like they’re in a dream and they’d just kiss, and it will fix all of Janis’ problems. Maybe a single tear will run down her cheek. And then they’ll run off into their new lives as the end credits roll.

How sweet that would be.

But her life isn’t a movie. If she wants anything, she has to go for it herself.

And that includes-

“Caddy.” Her name is delicate on her lips, handled with care. Cady looks at her, giving a simple ‘mm-hm’ in response, and Janis’ heart beats out of control. “That song I just sang, it-”

“Hey, guys.”

Also if this was a movie, Cady’s sweet, lovely, nice boyfriend would not be barging in right now. He’d either be a douchebag who she doesn’t feel bad about hurting, or he’d be nonexistent.

Unfortunately, this is not a movie, and Aaron Samuels exists and is the human equivalent of a squishmallow.

“Hey Aaron.” He slings his arm around Cady’s shoulders, and she leans into his touch almost instinctively. “Janis, you were great up there. I didn’t know you wrote songs.”

“It’s a bit of a new hobby,” she says, her voice hoarse. She clears her throat, and finds a bottle of water being handed to-thrown at-her.

“Hydrate those chords,” is Damian’s greeting.

“This is what I get for being friends with a theatre kid,” she sighs before she takes a drink. She hadn’t realised how dry her throat was until now.

“Okay, so we’re all going for pancakes,” Aaron says. “I take it you two are coming?”

“How can I say no to pancakes?” Janis asks. “Uh, you guys go ahead, I have to get my stuff from the green room.”

“Okay, we’ll wait for you,” Cady says. “Aaron brought his car so he can drive us.”

“Grool.” Cady and Aaron turn around together, Aaron spinning his eyes around his finger and Cady lacing her fingers through his, talking about something she can’t hear. It’s like watching them through a sheet of glass.

Not a movie. Not unless it’s one of those really, really sad movies. Sad homophobic movies.

“You okay?” Damian asks. She snorts at the question. Nothing has changed, so of course she’s okay. But then, nothing has changed, so she’s not really okay.

“I did it,” she sighs. “It’s out there. I told her, unofficially. Whether or not she works it out…” She runs her hand through her tangled hair. “That’s something else entirely.” Damian hums in agreement, a sympathetic look on his face that soon morphs into a grin.

“Hey,” he says. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks Mom.” They snort, Janis caught between a laugh and a sob, and squeezes Damian’s hand. She’s not optimistic about any romance in her future, at least where Cady is concerned. She and Aaron are still rock-solid and she’s happy for them, whenever she isn’t angsting about it. It’s a weird combination to have.

And at least she’s done this now. Despite a future for her and Cady not being in the cards for now, she’s glad she did it. The secret isn’t out, not entirely. Just written on the walls in invisible ink.

“Come on,” she tells Damian. “I actually do have to get my bag, and you can use this as an opportunity to double check the ghost light is on.”

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Cady and Aaron keep their promise and wait for them, waving off their apologies as they jog across the parking lot. Cady lets Damian take the front seat with Aaron and slides into the back with Janis instead. Janis frowns, confused as to why she isn’t taking her normal seat up front, and Cady rolls her eyes.

“There was a draw on the way here, and we lost,” she explains. “And now Damian has control of the aux chord,” She gestures with her head to the passenger seat, and Janis turns just in time to see him open his Spotify and scroll through his playlists. As the opening notes to Waving Through A Window fill the car, it’s met with three loud groans. Damian only turns it up louder, and adds in his own backing vocals.

“So, that song you sang,” Cady asks, leaning back in the seat. “Was it about anyone in particular?”

Janis looks down, her hands pressed together in her lap. If this is the moment the universe decided to give her, it’s a really terrible moment. Not only is Cady’s whole boyfriend sitting an arm’s length away from her, but she left her nerve back in the auditorium. Clearly, her and fate aren’t on each other’s wavelength.

“You wouldn’t know her,” she says. “She doesn't even go here.”

“Oh,” Cady replies. Her face falls, but she’s not too put out by it. Why would she be? She nudges Janis’ shoulder, a proud smile on her face, and squeezes Janis’ hand. “Well, if she has someone like you into her and she hasn’t taken the chance yet, then she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

Janis only thanks her, and quickly changes the subject.

Someday she might tell her for real, but for now she'll stick to the songs.

[kuroosweakness]

Hello!💕I was wondering if you can write something for Atsumu, Osamu and Suna who’s S/O has a lisp and is starting speech therapy? Cause I just started speech therapy and it has been very frustrating:( and tbh I’m lowkey losing the will to continue going lol thank you for your time :,)

atsumu, osamu, and suna with a s/o who has a lisp and is starting speech therapy 

a/n: don’t give up !! one day, you’ll look back and be proud. i’ll be proud of you. i’m already proud of you :’) atsumu, osamu, and suna will be proud of you <33 *sends all the motivation and love i have* 

atsumu: 

- he does not mind your lisp at all. if anything, he loves it. he loves hearing you talk in general, not to other guys though... *activate jealous atsumu*

- “speech therapy ?? what if i went with you so i can see what goes on and also participate :D” he grins at you like it’s the best idea in the world. if he can, he’ll definitely go with you. if not, this annoying bean will text you so much during your therapy session 

- “hi y/n i know you’re at speech therapy right now but i just wanted to say hi” 

- “hi again” 

- “if i catch you reading these messages during therapy i will not be happy. pay attention...even though it is my fault since i’m texting you lmao” 

- “y/n i have something extremely important to say...i love you” 

- “lmao i need to turn in that paper that was due last week” 

- “tell me what happened when ur done” 

- “so how’d it go??? tell me everything” 

- if you’re particularly not feeling happy, he’ll kick your front door open with food in his arms. expect many, many kisses and cuddles. 

-this goes without saying but he’s your biggest supporter and always will be 

osamu: 

- he always does a check-up on you after speech therapy, “did everything go okay?” when he sees your shoulders slump, he just opens his arms and wraps you tightly against his chest. actions speak louder than words 

- if you ever want to practice, osamu is always available and very patient with you, “you’ll get through this y/n, i believe in you” 

- he notices even the slightest details about you. if he hears your lisp improving, he’ll be sure to tell you how impressed he is 

- you’re relationship with osamu is less verbal and more expressive through physical affection. just one hug will express his support for you 

suna: 

- “speaking is already an accomplishment, take your time” 

- he has accepted you and your lisp since day one. if anyone talks about your lisp, it is on sight 

- he’s a man of few words. a pat on the head after speech therapy, a small smile when you speak more often than usual, a hand squeeze when he notices that frown on your face 

- he likes buying you random things. it’s not his fault you remind him of everything he sees at stores. a plushie? y/n can squish it whenever y/n is frustrated in speech therapy 

- feel free to talk to him anytime. he likes laying on the bed with you by his side, pretending to be busy reading a book when in reality, he’s invested in whatever you’re saying. he remembers everything you say 

[jobean12-blog]

Hi sweetheart. I saw the story you wrote for dear Orphey about the lisp and I wondered if I could request something sweet for my 9 year old daughter who has Down syndrome and receives a lot of name calling and bullying because she looks different. She adores Bucky, he really is her hero. We would be extremely happy with any plot, just something sweet I can read to her when she’s having bad days which seems to be a lot lately. Thank you very much and sending my love to you 💛🧡💛

Forever Friends

Pairing: Bucky x child reader (platonic)

Word Count:  938

Summary: Bucky and his dog, Winter make a new friend! (thank you Lacy @marvelgirl7 for letting me use that name for the dog, love it and you ❤)

Author’s Note: Dearest anon, thank you so very much for asking me to write this for your daughter. I really hope this is ok and she enjoys it. If not I will happlily fix it and re-write it, it’s no problem! I can take it a different way if you prefer. Also, if she doesn’t like dogs but prefers cats or no animal at all, I can fix that! You can message me anytime! I just want it to make her happy. I’m so very sorry that she has been having trouble with bullies. I will never understand it❤❤❤ Much love to you and your family always! ❤PS I understand that a child would not be just walking up to some stranger in the park, but this is fanfic and it’s Bucky. He’s an angel!  🥰Thank you all for reading and much love ❤❤ and special thank you to my dearest friend @sallycanwait68 for her unconditional support and guidance with this and everything! Love you! 

Warnings: FLUFF!!!! Happy doggo’s! Bucky making a new friend :) 

“I like your arm.” Bucky’s head snaps up. He was so lost in his book that he hadn’t even noticed the sweet young girl that was now standing next to him. “Hi,” he smiles wide, “and thank you!” Winter sits beside Bucky patiently waiting for the signal to say hello to her new friend. “This is my dog Winter; would you like to say hello?”

She tentatively reaches out her hand to pat the dog’s soft white fur, Winter’s tail thumping happily on the concrete. “She’s soft.” Bucky scratches behind her ear before replying, “isn’t she. I like to pet her. Especially when I’m feeling upset. She helps me a lot.”

“Did you name her Winter because she looks like snow?” she giggles, Winter now showering her face with kisses. “That’s exactly why!” Bucky smiles, asking, “what’s your name?” Her beautiful eyes lock onto his, “I’m y/n.” “It’s nice to meet you, y/n.”

Bucky scoots over on the bench and Winter hops up, her ears perked up as she people watches. “Do you want to hear more about my arm?” She nods her head enthusiastically and reaches over to touch it again. Bucky holds his arm out so she can see all the moving parts, patiently waiting for any questions.

“Does it hurt?” He rolls up his sleeve so she can see some of the scars at his shoulder as he says, “it used to. But I feel better now.” She seems to like that answer, tracing over the metal where it meets his flesh. “I think it’s cool!” Bucky’s heart practically bursts at her words and he’s thankful he’s wearing his sunglasses. “Thanks, I’m really glad you do!”

A young woman calls her name and she quickly turns around. Looking back to Bucky she smiles and says, I have to go now. Bye Bucky and Winter!” The dog jumps off the bench and licks her arm much to her happiness. Bucky waves goodbye as she runs toward her mom, his smile never faltering.

The next day is just as beautiful as the last and Bucky finds himself seated on the same bench; head buried in his book, but his ears perked up for any sign of his friend. Winter seems to be in the same mindset as she scans the park, her sharps eyes watching every person that walks by.

Winter beats him to it as the loud thump of her tail indicates that she’s back. “Hi Bucky! Hi Winter!” Bucky closes his book and waves both hands, “hey y/n! How are you today?” Winter jumps off the bench to give her a proper hello much to everyone’s delight.

“Look! I drew you a picture of Winter!” She holds up the paper and Bucky lifts his sunglasses off his face. His eyes scan over the drawing and they crinkle up in a wide smile. “This is fantastic! You got her ears and nose exactly right!” Her whole face lights up at Bucky’s praise and she asks, “do you like to draw?” Bucky makes a silly face but reaches into his back pocket for his phone. “Well, I’m not good at it like you are but my friend Steve did try to teach me once. Want to see what I drew?”  

With a happy squeal she sits on the bench and waits while Bucky pulls the picture up on his phone. “So, it’s supposed to be Superman, but I don’t know…” he trails off, laughing at himself. “I think you did a great job.” Bucky nods, putting his phone away. “Thanks! It’s good to practice too! What else do you like to do besides draw?”

She gets off the bench and starts to dance, showing off some of her best moves. “I love to dance!” she cheers. “You’re really good! You could teach me some moves!” he chuckles, watching as Winter jumps around after her. “I think Winter wants to dance too!” Bucky can’t help but laugh as the two spin around together, Winter’s tongue hanging out and tail wagging.

She slows down, laughing as she catches her breath. “Winter is funny!” Bucky rubs her belly, “she sure is!” and gives her a drink of water.

“Want to see something neat?” Bucky asks, a small smirk on his lips. Her face lights up as she hops and says, ‘’yes!” “So, my arm is made of metal right. And it gets hot in the sun. When that happens, I press this tiny button here and it makes it cold.” Her eyes go wide, “wow.” He chuckles, “right!” Bucky holds out his arm, the metal hot to the touch. “Ok, feel how hot that is? Now I press this and then….” He turns his arm over and she feels it again, grinning at the difference.

He sits back, knocking his book to the floor. She bends to pick it up, studying the cover before handing it back to him. “What book is that?” With a quiet thanks, he says, “it’s sort of an adventure book. Well, it has everything in it! Adventure, friendship, love. Even magic! It’s called The Lord of the Rings.”

“I like how that sounds! Can you read some to me?” Bucky rests one leg on his knee and gets comfortable. “Sure. I’d love to!” Starting from the beginning he reads the first few pages before her mom calls her to head back home. “Thanks Bucky. I like this book. Maybe we can read more tomorrow?” Bucky smiles, “definitely, I would like that.” He waves goodbye as she runs off and for the first time in a while, he feels genuinely excited for what tomorrow will bring.

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @azurika-writes @bugsbucky @buckys-broody-muffin @book-dragon-13 @devynsdiary @eurynome827 @hawksmagnolia @hailmary-yramliah @hiddles-rose @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @imgaril-lindru @mushyjellybeans @marvelandotherfandomimagines @marvelgirl7 @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @scarletsoldierrr @softpeachbarnes @the-wayward-robot @when-the-hell-is-bucky @bucky-on-my-mind

[stillness-in-green]

MLA Week, Day 2: Judge/Shackles/Freedom

A threefer!  Spinner and his brand new lieutenants.  (Look, until Horikoshi starts deigning to give these guys names, they are free real estate.)

I was originally going to use this day to write about one of the more thuggy or delinquent-looking lieutenants, spin out an ex-con not being able to get his feet back under him and so sliding into the MLA’s sphere, but then I remembered this three foot tall goblin in a drugstore Halloween costume and decided to go with him instead.

Also included is Spinner’s number 1, this gal: 

Content Notes: Discussions of disability, portrayal of the marginalized having become the radicalized.  The Liberation Army’s really fascinating, y’all. 

———–      ———–      ———–      ———–

«I think you’ll like this one,» Nimble announces, the rainbow-colored letters of her quirk dancing in the air.  

“You thought I’d like the first two, too,” Spinner replies skeptically, looking away from the floating words to focus on his brand new number one, a woman with a face like a doll whose sculptor had gotten as far as the eyes—huge and green—before giving up on the rest, little things like a nose and a mouth.  She breathes by absorbing air through her skin like a frog, apparently, which is why she dresses the way she does, a distractingly low-cut tank top and a sweater jacket that he has never once seen covering her shoulders.  

She shrugs, expressive eyes briefly fluttering closed, and movement in the air draws Spinner’s attention back over to where her quirk—Sky Write—has spelled out her response.  

«I thought you’d like them too.  Can I call him in?»

“Yeah, go ahead.”  Just as long as he’s not a not surly bastard like the last two.  They’d had good quirks, the last two, but damned if Spinner’s going to work with people who can’t even manage to keep resentment out of their eyes for the length of a job interview, or whatever this process of picking subordinates out of an army full of people that were trying to kill him less than two weeks ago is called.  

Nimble’s letters dissolve into a shapeless blur as she looks over to the door, eyebrows briefly lowering in concentration.  A few seconds later, the door to Spinner’s makeshift office opens. Spinner’s eyes drop almost half-a-person’s length in height and he tries to keep the surprise off his face.  

“A kid?”

«He’s twenty-one, actually.»  

“What she said.”  The voice comes out a bit muffled through the black hood covering the kid’s—okay, the twenty-one-year old’s face.  But if he’s the same age as Spinner, he sure as hell doesn’t look it.  He can’t be over a meter tall, with the skinniest legs Spinner’s ever seen sticking out from under the hem of the black robe he wears like a kid running around the house beneath a sheet.  A big feathery ruff sits around his neck like a dried-out wreath.  

“Scarecrow, reporting in.” The weird little gremlin settles into a military rest in front of the desk, far enough back that it’s not too obvious that he has to tilt his head to look over it.  “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”  

Spinner stares at him, trying to suppress a grimace.  Scarecrow stares back through little eyeholes cut in the hood, but without being able to see more of his face, it’s impossible to tell if he’s glaring or just has really piercing eyes.  

“Right.”  Spinner glances over at Nimble, who nods.  Her response scrawls itself in the air between them, facing first him, then angling to face the gremlin.  

«Show him your meta-ability, Scarecrow.  Catch!»  

She pulls out a 100 yen coin and deftly balances it on her thumb before flicking it out into the air over the desk.

Spinner bites back a yelp as bug legs unfold from beneath Scarecrow’s ruff, long, segmented things that narrow down to sharp points at the tips.  Two thin lines of silk jet out from the knobby second joints, catching on the spinning coin, and the legs reel it back in, bouncing it in the air, spinning it like a weight on a string, then cocooning it up with quick efficiency.  It falls neatly into his hand—not a normal human hand, Spinner notices belatedly, but a prosthetic, hard plastic and super articulated, with cables visible beneath the individual parts.

“I can fully cocoon up to twelve adult men a day,” Scarecrow rattles out.  “I can also pull myself up the sides of walls and move between buildings, if they’re close enough together.  I was inducted into the Meta Liberation Army on my sixteenth birthday; my parents have been members for ten years.  I know we’re a relatively new family, but—”

“I don’t—”  Spinner stops himself from finishing that sentence with care about that stuff, amending to, “I’m not worried about your—generation or whatever.”  Is that better?  Neither Scarecrow or Nimble react to it with narrowed eyes or a snarl, anyway. Promising?  “Why’d you join up?”  

Jumping on a bandwagon is one thing, but at least that takes a running start and a leap.  Not like joining a cult because it’s just the family business, Spinner thinks viciously at his memory of that greasy asshole Trumpet’s plated mask.

Scarecrow stares at him for a long second.  Spinner does his best to look serious, like he’s actually got a whole prepared list of questions or whatever.  Like he knows what he’s doing.  

Finally, Scarecrow holds up his hands, both spread wide, both obvious prosthetics.  His bug legs twitch and probe at the air.  

“I was born with no arms,” he says.  “Just my forelegs.  It’s not the same as having opposable thumbs, obviously, but it’s better than you’d think. But my teachers used to scold me for raising a foreleg instead of a hand to answer a question or carry things.  The kind of stuff a kid who didn’t have a birth defect could use their quirk to do and no one would look twice.  If I go out in public and so much as open doors for myself with them, people look at me funny.  Because I look funny.”

Don’t use your quirk at school outside of training lessons, Shuuichi-kun.  Spinner remembers that kind of bias, yeah.  All the non-heteromorphic kids could run around the schoolyard playing tag with snowballs in July, but heaven forbid he use his quirk to climb a tree so he can get away from bullies for the length of a lunchbreak.  

He pushes the memory away and nods at Scarecrow to keep him talking.  Not that the guy needs much pushing—he talks like someone who’s told the story before, hard-edged, voice intense despite a mid-ranged pitch.  He’s got just a hint of a—a hiss or a lisp, something that muddles the edges of his hard consonants.  The hood doesn’t move like he’s hiding mandibles under there, but…

“I’ve been wearing prosthetics for longer than I can remember.  The government pays for most of it, since I was born this way, but there’re a lot of limitations on it.  How often they’ll replace them, what my folks got charged for them.  It was always tight, and the kinds of prosthetics government money buys definitely weren’t as nice as these.”  He flexes his false fingers demonstratively.

“My folks and I met Re-Destro—” and there’s that note of reverence, the same tone Re-Destro himself’s using about Shigaraki these days “—when I was nine.  A family friend recommended Detnerat’s products to us, and he took an interest. That’s how we found out about the Army.”

“Yeah?”  Spinner crosses his arms over his chest.  

“My parents joined up because of me.  But I joined up for myself.  Because people think that because I have prosthetics, I shouldn’t need to use my forelegs in public.” Scarecrow’s voice sharpens.  “Like I don’t have the right to use the limbs I was born with.  I should have that right.  We all should.”

“We’re not out to reform society, you know,” Spinner cautions him.  He’s had to tell Re-Destro that too many times already, and that’s just having grasped it himself there in the ruins of Deika.  “That’s not what Shigaraki’s after.”  

Scarecrow gives him another long, quiet look, unreadable behind his hood.  Finally—slower, less practiced—he nods and answers, “Destro’s teaching was that oppression will always lead to revolution.  The Grand Commander of the Liberation Army is the one who’ll throw off those chains.  Whatever he makes of the world, I want to be there to help, not sitting in my shackles waiting for someone to hand me an answer.”

Spinner breathes out hard. He scratches at his hair.  

“…Right,” he manages. Don’t admit he said it better than you could.  “Well put.” He turns to Nimble and adds, “Well, he didn’t offend me.”

«I know you’d like him.»  Her words practically shimmy in the air, flickering green and yellow and pink.  «Then do we have our number 2?»

Spinner glances back over at Scarecrow, who’s staring determinedly out the window behind the desk, his back toy soldier straight.  He still looks more like a kid in a costume than anything else, but…  

Well, I like him better than people like the politician.  And we need to keep things moving, anyway.  Don’t stop running or someone might catch up.  

“Yeah, I think so” he says aloud, then takes a breath and leans over the desk, offering a hand.  Scarecrow takes it without a second’s pause, plastic clicking against Spinner’s scales.  “Welcome to the Support Regiment.”  

———–      ———–      ———–      ———–

I’ll have some links up about things here when I post this to AO3, but in the meantime, Scarecrow--whose condition at birth was called amelia--wears a hood not because he’s embarrassed of a bug face, but rather because he’s embarrassed of the way various surgeries to repair cleft palate and cleft lip have left his face looking.  He’s much more confident in showing off his meta-ability than what he thinks of as his disability.  

Scarecrow is also vaguely modeled on an insect called a webspinner, a tiny little bug that lives in big communal web “galleries” and has the unusual feature of its silk production apparatus being located on its front legs rather than the base of its abdomen like spiders.  The choice felt appropriate for an unusually tiny cult member with top-mounted spider legs.   

[douchebagbrainwaves]

OK, I'LL TELL YOU YOU ABOUT FEATURE

They seemed to have lost their virginity at an average of about 14 and by college had tried more drugs than I'd even heard of. From their point of view, as big company executives, they were less able to start a company, it doesn't seem as if Larry and Sergey seem to have felt the same before they started Google, and so far there are few outside the US, because they don't have layers of bureaucracy to slow them down. It meant that a the only way to get rich.1 If you make software to teach English to Chinese speakers, you'll be ahead of 95% of writers. We arrive at adulthood with heads full of lies.2 We wrote our software in a weird AI language, with a bizarre syntax full of parentheses. That's an extreme example, of course, that you needed $20,000 in capital to incorporate.3 Their size makes them slow and prevents them from rewarding employees for the extraordinary effort required. Doing what you love in your spare time.4 Young professionals were paying their dues, working their way up the hierarchy. By giving him something he wants in return.

Once they saw that new BMW 325i, they wanted one too.5 If you simply manage to write in spoken language. Languages less powerful than Blub are obviously less powerful, because they're missing some feature he's used to. The kind of people you find in Cambridge are not there by accident.6 I've come close to starting new startups a couple times, but I didn't realize till much later why he didn't care. We'd interview people from MIT or Harvard or Stanford must be smart. Indians in the current Silicon Valley are all too aware of the shortcomings of the INS, but there's little they can do about it. When you're too weak to lift something, you can always make money from such investments.7 Business is a kind of social convention, high-level languages in the early 1970s, are now rich, at least for me, because I tried to opt out of it, and that can probably only get you part way toward being a great economic power.8 It must have seemed a safe move at the time. At the end of the summer.9

It's not merely that you need a scalable idea to grow.10 How much stock should you give him? Users love a site that's constantly improving. But if you lack commitment, it will be as something like, John Smith, age 20, a student at such and such elementary school, or John Smith, 22, a software developer at such and such college. There are two things different here from the usual confidence-building exercise.11 But it means if you made a serious effort. Bill Gates out of the third world.12 What's going on? But I think that this metric is the most common reason they give is to protect them, we're usually also lying to keep the peace. The kind of people you find in Cambridge are not there by accident.13

Frankly, it surprises me how small a role patents play in the software business, startups beat established companies by transcending them. The problem is that the cycle is slow. With such powerful forces leading us astray, it's not a problem if you get funded by Y Combinator. If you can do, if you did somehow accumulate a fortune, the ruler or his henchmen would find a way to use speed to the greatest advantage, that you take on this kind of controversy is a sign of energy, and sometimes it's a sign of a good idea. Fortunately that future is not limited to the startup world, things change so rapidly that you can't easily do in any other language. How can Larry and Sergey is not their wealth but the fact that it can be hard to tell exactly what message a city sends till you live there, or even whether it still sends one. They build Writely.14 I'm not sure that will happen, but it's the truth. Stanford students are more entrepreneurial than Yale students, but not because of some difference in their characters; the Yale students just have fewer examples.

And whatever you think of a startup. In the US things are more haphazard. I see a couple things on the list because he was one of the symptoms of bad judgement is believing you have good judgement. There are a couple catches. Instead of being positive, I'm going to use TCP/IP just because everyone else does.15 Being profitable, for example, or at the more bogus end of the race slowing down. An example of a job someone had to do.16 But actually being good. There are a lot of people were there during conventional office hours.17

I'll tell you about one of the most surprising things we've learned is how little it matters where people went to college.18 In Lisp, these programs are called macros. That's where the upper-middle class convention that you're supposed to work on it. And since most of what big companies do their best thinking when they wake up on Sunday morning and go downstairs in their bathrobe to make a conscious effort to keep your ideas about what you should do is start one.19 The most powerful wind is users. We're just finally able to measure it. And not only did everyone get the same yield. VCs need to invest in startups, at least by legal standards. Ten years ago, writing applications meant writing applications in C. If you have to operate on ridiculously incomplete information.

Notes

Foster, Richard Florida told me about several valuable sources. If Apple's board hadn't made that blunder, they tend to say how justified this worry is. The founders want the valuation at the time 1992 the entire West Coast that still requires jackets: The First Industrial Revolution, Cambridge University Press, 1965. Yes, there would be enough to be a win to include things in shows is basically zero.

Different kinds of startups that has become part of your mind what's the right mindset you will fail.

But although I started using it out of loyalty to the founders' salaries to the traditional peasant's diet: they had first claim on the one hand they take away with the earlier stage startups, just monopolies they create rather than admitting he preferred to call them whitelists because it reads as a kid, this is the notoriously corrupt relationship between the government. As the name Homer, to mean starting a business, A. The Department of English Studies. Yes, strictly speaking, you're pretty well protected against such tricks initially.

There are also the 11% most susceptible to charisma. Every language probably has a word meaning how one feels when that partner re-tells it to profitability on a road there are no longer needed, big companies to say that YC's most successful startups of all the page-generating templates are still expensive to start over from scratch, rather than ones they capture.

There are two simplifying assumptions: that the Internet, and judge them based on revenues of 1. If the company goes public. This is one resource patent trolls need: lawyers. When that happens.

The only launches I remember are famous flops like the bizarre consequences of this type of proficiency test any apprentice might have 20 affinities by this, though more polite, was starting an outdoor portal. The Duty of Genius, Penguin, 1991, p. The danger is that in practice signalling hasn't been much of observed behavior. When I say in principle is that intelligence doesn't matter in startups tend to be when I was genuinely worried that Airbnb, for example, the startup after you buy it despite having no evidence it's for sale.

Another thing I learned from this experiment: set aside an option pool. So if they don't want to start a startup in question usually is doing badly in your country controlled by the government. But in a company grew at 1% a week for 4 years.

We added two more investors. The reason this subject is so hard to imagine how an investor, and that often doesn't know its own momentum. We think. I'm talking here about everyday tagging.

They thought most programming would be possible to bring corporate bonds to market faster; the point of a large organization that often creates a rationalization for doing so much to generalize.

Many people feel good. So instead of being interrupted deters hackers from starting hard projects. The idea is that it was overvalued till you see them, initially, were ways to make your fortune? In fact the decade preceding the war.

One father told me about a form that would appeal to investors.

Some graffiti is quite impressive anything becomes art if you tell them to justify choices inaction in particular took bribery to the traditional peasant's diet: they hoped they were only partly joking. If a big angel like Ron Conway had angel funds starting in the first phase. You're going to create one of those you can eliminate, do not try too hard at fixing bugs—which, if they stopped causing so much from day to day indeed, is due to the table.

The hardest kind of gestures you use the wrong ISP. But they've been trained to expect the second component is empty—an idea is stone soup: you post a sign saying this cupboard must be kept empty. The two guys were Dan Bricklin and Bob Frankston. I have set up grant programs to run an online service, and they were, they'd be called unfair.

My work represents an exploration of gender and sexuality in an era of such high taxes?

So the most visible index of that, in one of the markets they serve, because she liked the iPhone SDK. For example, because a it's too hard to pick the former, because it is.

If you ask that you're small and traditional proprietors on the side of the junk bond business by Michael Milken; a new airport.

The biggest exits are the only audience for your side project. You're not one of their portfolio companies. He did eventually graduate at about 26.

A lot of time on schleps, but he doesn't remember which.

When I talk about startups. It's also one of the statistics they use the wrong algorithm for generating their frontpage. The reason Y Combinator only got 38 cents on the other: the source of food.

[apparentlynotreallyfinnish]

Think of Her

Here’s some un-edited, un-betaed college!rhink that just appeared on my Word document when I tried to write a completely different thing. Maybe you’ll like it.

---

Rhett is sitting on his bed and pouting when Link steps into their dorm room. He is buzzing with excited energy, babbling on and on about a particular class he likes and a professor he is obviously in love with. He bounces around the room, throwing his things here and there, discarding his t-shirt on the floor, going to his drawer, picking out a new shirt, pulling it on and apparently, deciding he’s made a grave error. His nose scrunches up and he sniffs his armpit. That t-shirt ends up on the floor as well but Link doesn’t bother to get another one. Instead he marches to their cupboard and takes out a box of cereal. All the while he’s gushing about the professor and the class. Rhett is irritated beyond belief.

“What have you been up to today?” Link asks as he sinks on the couch and pours himself a huge bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Rhett just crosses his arms across his chest and growls. Link’s gaze immediately snaps to him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Rhett mutters and feels stupid as the word slips out. Obviously Link can see something is bothering him.  So, he continues: “Everything.”

“Tell me,” Link orders mouth full of Crunch. Rhett closes his eyes and tries to drone out the sounds that seem to penetrate his soul.

“Just…I don’t know. It’s all stupid stuff. Practice sucked today and I managed to fall on my face in the cafeteria. And I got a C on that paper. I worked so hard on it but apparently it was uninspired and redundant.”

“Aww, man, I’m sorry. Sounds like one of those days. Tomorrow will be better. Besides, everyone knows Professor Miller is a hard-ass. C from him is basically an A.”

Rhett huffs, annoyed, because he knows Link is right. But he had been so proud of what he’d written and certain he’d get at least a B.

“Also, Claire cancelled our date. She claimed she wanted to concentrate on her studies. And I mean fine, that’s okay. But then  I saw her kissing a guy on the courtyard so…she’s either studying dentistry now and was doing some intense homework or she was just lying to my face,” Rhett mumbles.

Honestly, the Claire thing stings way more than any of the other stuff. He’d gotten a bit ahead of himself with Claire, imagining all kinds of futures together after their first few dates. Seeing her with the guy had been like a gut punch.

“Shit, that sucks,” Link says sympathetically. He’s straightened his back and abandoned the rest of his cereal to slowly soften. He is looking at Rhett with an expression Rhett can’t read. His eyes are lit up - he almost looks excited - but he’s gnawing on his bottom lip and wiggling his leg anxiously.

“What?” Rhett asks with too much sharpness in his voice. He feels bad; it isn’t Link’s fault he’s having a bad day. But Link doesn’t seem to either mind or notice. He gets up and creeps to Rhett’s desk next to their bunk bed. Link’s eyes wander over the desk and he picks up a pencil, twirls it between his fingers a bit before putting it down and picking up a text book. Rhett frowns as he looks at Link twiddling with his things. Just as he is about to ask what Link is doing, Link mutters, without looking at Rhett.

“I could help you.”

“With what?” Rhett asks confused. The paper is already done and it isn’t like Link can help him with practice. Sometimes you just have bad days, it’s normal. And Link definitely can’t help with Claire. After watching her play tonsil tennis with a guy with a ponytail Rhett doesn’t even want her back anymore.

“I could help you feel better…help you relax,” Link whispers, still staring at the text book. A faint blush has crept on his cheeks. Rhett’s own cheeks immediately heat up and suddenly, he feels parched.

“You mean…?” Rhett asks with a hoarse voice.

“Yeah.”

Rhett feels a bit faint. A memory after memory resurfaces in his mind and he feels like hiding his crotch under a pillow. But that would be too obvious. He tries to appear nonchalant as he says:

“We decided not to do that anymore.”

“You decided. I… Anyway. What does it matter?”

“We shouldn’t.”

“Why?” Link presses on. He’s looking straight at Rhett now and Rhett feels like squirming under his intense gaze. God, have his eyes always been that piercing blue? They seem almost otherworldly.

“Because,” is all Rhett manages to answer. As his dick hardens, his resolve crumbles.

“Because why?”

“Because it’s gay,” Rhett says the word under his breath, barely audible. Link snorts.

“It’s not gay if we’re not gay,” he says, like it means something. Rhett frowns.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Neither does saying no to something you clearly want. And need.”

“I don’t need it!” Rhett says aghast. That’s a bit much.

It’s not like I know how long it has been since the last time. (Two months and four days.)

It’s not like I think about Link when I go to bed every night. (He touches himself after he is sure Link is asleep.)

It’s not like I actually want him in any way. (He still hasn’t touched Link and it’s slowly killing him.)

 “No?” Link asks putting the text book down and taking a step so that he’s right at the edge of Rhett’s bottom bunk.

“No,” Rhett replies with a shaky voice. He watches with wide eyes as Link sinks on his knees in front of the bed. The simmering heat inside Rhett’s stomach ignites into a blazing roar. His cock is straining against his boxer briefs, its outline clearly visible through the thin basketball shorts. Link’s hand settles on Rhett’s bare knee and starts to inch up. Rhett’s skin is buzzing with the sensation.

“I know this always makes you feel better. Helps you relax. Helps you sleep. Let me make it better, Rhett,” Link is coaxing him with a silky voice as his hand slips inside the loose pant leg of Rhett’s shorts.

We shouldn’t. (Link’s hand is so soft.)

We’re good Southern boys. (Link’s voice is soft too.)

Think of all the people we’d disappoint. (Link’s mouth is going to be even softer.)

 Rhett’s shorts have been pulled mid-thigh and his cock has been drawn out of his boxer. It’s leaking precum and twitching in Link’s hands. Link is licking the head as his eyes are flitting between Rhett’s cock and Rhett’s face. Rhett’s hands are on Link’s shoulders; he’s not sure if he’s about to push him away or pull him closer.

“Fuck,” Rhett mutters voice strained and gravelly. Link looks up at him again and says: “It’s okay. You don’t have to look. Just close your eyes and think of her.”

Rhett’s eyes flutter close as Link’s soft, wet heat envelops Rhett’s cock. He bucks into his best friend’s mouth and gasps for air. He can feel Link hollow his cheeks, he can feel the pressure build, and he can feel Link hum against his overexcited skin.

It’s too much this time. It’s been too long. The waiting has been torture and now he’s in heaven. Link moves around his cock slowly, methodically, pumping Rhett with his spit-slicked fist as his mouth is fast making a ruin out of Rhett’s mind and soul.

Rhett feels the tears on his cheeks before he even realizes he’s crying.

Link stops. The warm softness of him is replaced by the sharp chill of the room and Rhett whines.

“Don’t stop,” he whimpers, not daring to open his eyes. It’s like he’s afraid that all of this has been a dream again.

“Rhett,” Link whispers, voice weirdly wet and saturated; Rhett’s cock is a ghost on his lips making his lisp more pronounced. Shiver runs through Rhett and he opens his eyes. He pats his eyelids, tries to focus his swimming vision to see the boy between his legs.

“Why are you crying? Do you want me to stop?” Link asks. He sounds worried.

Rhett sniffs pathetically, embarrassed over the fact that all of a sudden his soul has been laid barer than his cock that’s still throbbing between his legs, uncaring of the emotional turmoil going on above it.

“C’mere,” Rhett beckons voice thick with emotion. Link’s eyes widen and he awkwardly climbs into Rhett’s lap, crushing Rhett’s dick between them and making Rhett moan and push against him.

“What’s wrong?” Link whispers. He looks at Rhett like he’s afraid he’ll break at any moment. Rhett thinks he might be onto something. He’s never felt this fragile before.

Rhett lifts his hands. They tremble as he cups Link’s face. Link responds without much prompting and closes the distance between them. Rhett tastes himself on Link’s lips. He doesn’t care. They fall onto the bed; shaky breaths and whispered words. Link is everywhere. He’s tugging Rhett closer. His hands are making Rhett bolder. His words are making Rhett stronger.

This can’t be wrong. (It feels like fate.)

It took me too long to let myself love him. (It was inevitable.)

They’ll learn to love us like this. (How could anyone hate something so pure?)

Link’s hands find Rhett’s impatient cock again.

“Don’t think of her,” Link pleads against Rhett’s neck.

“I won’t,” Rhett breaths.

“Think of me,” Link continues as his hands move with familiar pressure.

“Always have,” Rhett confesses with a whimper.

Link groans as Rhett’s hand palms the bulge in his jeans. They move away from each other, just enough to release Link from the confines of his pants. A wide smile spreads across Rhett’s face as his hands wrap around Link’s length.

“I’ve dreamt of this. Dreamt of touching you. Dreamt of making you cum. Dreamt of making you mine,” Rhett whispers making Link whine and thrust his hips against Rhett’s eager hands.

“Tell me your mine,” Link orders voice rough and breathless.

“Yours. Only yours!” Rhett cries out and finds Link’s lips again with his own. They breathe into each other’s mouths, barely kissing but needing to be as close as they can.

Rhett comes first, calling out Link’s name in the peak of his passion. It still echoes off the walls as Link follows him over the edge.

Their breaths slow down. Their hands still. Their eyes open.

They look at each other and smile.

[findmeintheafterglow]

A Guide to Every Single Newsie

There are way too many of those punks. If you’re new to all this come learn whom is who

Let’s start with some pictures, they’re blurry because it’s surprisingly hard to get a decent screenshot. There are lots of them but hopefully just seeing their faces a few times will help you. Recognizing them just comes with time trust me, I used to struggle to find Race and now I see a pic of someone's feet and am like “ah yes Finch my boy”. Also, I’m only covering the newsies live cast because that’s what you can legally watch and what most people are familiar with. Also, I didn’t want to do every cast member to ever be on Broadway or tour.

Please note some of the things I’m about to say may not be canon but are part of what I know is widely considered true within the fandom. As far as sexuality I may mention it with some characters/who they’re commonly shipped with just so y’all aren’t lost when you see fics and things.

Jack: You know Jack so I’m not going that deep into his character. He’s 17, full name Francis Sullivan, newsie nickname is Cowboy. He’s the leader of the newsies of Lower Manhattan. A charismatic asshole who really just wants meaningful relationships and happiness for those he loves. Undeniably bisexual. Played by Jeremy Jordan.

Davey: Full name is David Jacobs, newsie nickname is Walking Mouth though he’s only addressed by his nickname in the 1992 movie. The most educated, attended school until he was around 17 ish. He’s a doofy little nerd and also mom friend ultimate, I repeat bc this is a defining trait Mom Friend Ultimate. I’m not sure if this is canon but pretty much everyone recognizes that he and his family are Jewish. Played by Ben Fankhauser.

Les: Sassy angel child. Full name Lesley Jacobs. Albert calls him shortstop a few times but it’s not quite a newsie name tm. 10 years old(almost). Also pretty Jewish. He’s kind of an impressionable little firecracker, he looks up to all the newsies but especially Jack. He just has a lot of energy and wants to hang with the big kids. Sass master in training. Buckets of charm packed into about 4 feet of human. Played by Ethan Steiner.

Crutchie: Crutchie! You know him! You’ve already fallen madly in love with him! Lost use of one of his legs to polio. Last name is Morris for sure and a lot of people say his real name is Charlie. Jack’s closest friend. He’s often painted as a pure sunshine boy, he is a pure sunshine boy. However, he is also tough, streetsmart and ready to fight. Very kindhearted and eternally optimistic. Played by Andrew Keenan-Bolger(you may see it abbreviated as AKB).

Race: This boy has lots of names so strap in. Racetrack Higgins is his name, people mostly call him Race not Racetrack. He is also sometimes called Racer. I don’t think this is canon but as a fandom, I think we’ve determined that he’s aggressively Italian and his real first name is Antonio, you may also see Anthony or Tony. Best friends with Albert. Crutchie is Jack’s best friend but Race is sort of Jack’s second in command. Sprace, him and Spot Conlon, are pretty much the biggest ship in Newsies. He’s a gambler and has an affinity for betting on horse races. He sells by the Sheepshead Racetrack hence his nickname. Very easy to recognize because he always has a cigar. The definition of a disaster gay. He has good intentions most of the time but is also a chaotic piece of shit. Played by Ben Tyler Cook(BTC).

Albert: Albert DaSilva is his name, having fantastic hair is his game. Race’s best friend. Personality is similar to Race but a little less chaotic, like he still does dumb things all the time but isn’t nearly as loud. Prankmaster and Sassmaster ultimate. Lives on the lower east side with his dad and two older brothers but generally that fact is ignored and he’s lumped in as living in the lodgings.  His cap is on backwards most of the time which can help you recognize him. Played by Sky Flaherty.

Spot: Spot Conlon, the man, the myth, the legend. Leader of Brooklyn. Comically short but will also soak you without hesitation. Side note bc I didn’t know this for a long time: the newsies call beating someone up “soakin’ ‘em” because you beat them up so bad they’re soaked in blood. Back to Spot, he’s tough as nails but also cares about his boys in Brooklyn a lot. Played by Tommy Bracco.

Elmer: A smart yet small boy. Very good at math and science and somewhat interested in politics. He has 8 older siblings. Polish apparently? I learned this very recently?? A very friendly and sunshiney guy. The newsies make fun of him saying that he’s bad at selling papes. He’s a hardworker. This is definitely not canon but you may see his last name as being Kasprzak. This comes from Evan Kasprzak, the actor who played Elmer in the Papermill and Original Broadway Casts. People like writing about Elmer so they just kinda gave him that last name and it works. Played by Anthony Zas.

Jojo: Jorgelino Josephino De La Guerra where to begin. A good Catholic boy. He was raised by nuns in a cathedral in Harlem. A nice boy, a kind boy. Down for some shenanigans but is generally reasonable and doesn’t want anyone to get hurt. Very ambitious and wants to be a big baller(in KONY he wishes for a solid gold watch I mean). Played by Joshua Burrage.

Buttons: Benjamin Buttons Davenport, what a guy. So I don’t know that he’s actually younger but he definitely reads as a little more youthful. He’s optimistic and easily excitable and overall kinda has this genuine hope and happiness that some of the other guys have lost to the street. He lives with his family and has at least a few siblings but I feel like he has hella. Not gonna be last in line for the tub tonight. Played by Chaz Wolcott.

Romeo: Will flirt with anything that moves. He has very distinctive bright red and blue striped socks if that helps you identify him. Is one of the younger newsies but makes up for it with overconfidence. Very lighthearted, we never see him get too serious. A charmer through and through. Still a very kind and caring guy. Played by Nico DeJesus.

Specs: Specs is a good one. He wears glasses obviously so you can identify him pretty easy. Definitely on the older end of the newsies. There’s no basis for this in canon but I feel like he’s been around longer than Jack. Kind of helps lead and run things with Race and Jack because he’s the most responsible motherfucker in that lodging house. Think kinda like Davy where he’s a bit of a mom but more easygoing, less cautious and more one of the boys. Generally a happy guy and so so sweet. Very forward thinking and genuinely likes selling papes. Played by Jordan Samuels.

Finch: Finch! A personal favorite please show him love. Full name is Patrick Cortes. He has a family(or at least a mom) but ran away when he was little. He carries a slingshot with him a good amount of the time so use that to find him. He’s sarcastic, funny, and always rarin’ to go. Tough but not in an “I’ll fight you” way. He will fight you if needed but it’s more like “Life’s a bitch but look how far I’ve made it”. Kinda like a cool older brother vibe but throw in a good handful of antsy. Played by my main man Iain Young.

Sniper: Mkay it’s time for the tough boi trio, these next three are fighters. Last name is Wah. His dad is named Sam Wah and owns a laundromat above Jacobi’s Deli. You may see him as a girl in fics or hcs because for almost all of the tour he was played by a woman. Boy has aim like no other. He is confirmed to be the quickest and strongest of the newsies. Also sly and cunning. Boy’s like a snake or a fox or whatever simile you prefer but regardless be scared. Has a reputation so people don’t mess with him. Would never hurt another Manhattan boy, he’s scary but he defends his brothers. Played by Daniel Switzer.

Tommy Boy: Don’t know a ton about Tommy Boy but here we go. He’s a man of few words, when he talks his answers are brief and to the point. Not in a mean way though that’s just how he is. Appears to be confrontational as he’s consistently seen stepping to a fight(before the world will know when Jack says “keep your shirt on” and when he scabs he gets in people’s faces). A good dependable guy but kinda mysterious, I would not provoke. Played by Michael Dameski.

Mush: Last name is Myers. First name is possibly Nick? In the real strike, there was a boy named Nick Myers so. He lives in Harlem?? But who cares about canon, ignore that. Mush is a ‘hattan boy. Has a lisp. He considers himself to be the muscle of Manhattan and will throw down for his brothers. When the strikebreakers show up, Jack literally has to hold him back because Mush is just trying to get to those hoes so he can protect the rest of the boys just yellin’ “Nah man I’ll get ‘em”. Very caring and very selfless. Boy’s got muscle but is totally a teddy bear with a heart of gold. I’ve always thought of him as your classic rough and tumble but clean-cut caring all-American boy. Played by Nick Masson.

Henry: Last name is possibly butler after the real life newsboy, Henry Butler but the only confirmed name we have is Henry. Became a newsie at 11 when his dad died and his family lost their deli. Has a mom who he still sees sometimes but doesn’t live with. Boy really likes food. It reminds him of the deli with his dad and also he just really. likes. food. Fairly easygoing, practical, and will call guys out on their bullshit(e.g. whom the fuck cares about being famous). Played by Michael Rios.

Smalls: Smalls! I don’t got much at all but here’s what I know. Very commonly thought about as a girl as Smalls was played by girlsies for all(?) of the Broadway run. Pretty firey or at least high energy. Sometimes headcannoned as being leader of the Bronx because in the normal not filmed staging he’s the one to yell “so’s the Bronx”. Played by Julian DeGuzman.

Mike: Twin brother of Ike. These guys are hard to tell apart because they’re played by actual twins but here are some distinctions. Mike wears a brown cap, a plaid shirt, and green socks. Played by Jacob Guzman.

Ike: Twin brother of Mike. Has a dark grey cap, a striped shirt, pin-striped pants, and brown socks. Both twins seem to be pretty fun-loving. They kinda rough house a lot and are often messing around. Played by David Guzman

Hotshot: A Brooklyn newsie, I don’t really know his deal? A typical production doesn’t have Hotshot in it but he was in the filmed version and was apparently there towards the end of the broadway run. Kind of arrogant and tough. Sometimes seen as Spot’s second. Has literally only ever been played by J.P. Ferreri.

Vince/Myron: Ok so for newsies live they just threw in some extra newsboys for the heck of it and this guy is one of those. I don’t even know his name because the actor who plays him also plays a strikebreaker. On the wiki cast list, it just lists him as playing Vince and Myron with no indication as to who’s the newsie and who’s the strike breaker. Just from the nature of the names I can guess that Vince is the newsie? A big tough Brooklyn boy. Played by Stephen Hernandez.

Willie/Bart: Same deal as Vince/Myron. I’d be willing to guess that Willie is the newsie. Another Brooklyn boy. Played by Andrew Wilson.

Kenny: Also thrown in just for newsies live but I actually know his name. A pretty sunny guy, as far as I can remember he’s always smiling. Not in any of the pictures because he’s not in any of those scenes. It’s the same guy who plays darcy so go to carrying the banner or once and for all and find the guy in the yellow suit. That’s Darcy, Kenny looks just like that but in newsie clothes. Played by Jack Sippel.

Am I about to throw Bill and Darcey in just for kicks? yeah I think I am. Ok so this is a last minute decision and I don’t have pictures for these guys but here we go.

Bill: Not a newsie. Son of William Randolph Hearst, owner of the New York Journal. Full name William Randolph Hearst Jr. Katherine and Darcey’s friend. A sophisticated, classy, educated boy. Not tough in a street way but is kind of cold/reserved or maybe just a bit calculating. You can definitely tell he’s a rich boy by the way he holds himself. Looks like Mush bc they’re played by the same actor. Blue suit. Played by Nick Masson.

Darcey: Not a newsie. Son of Whitelaw Reid, owner of the New York Tribune. Still high class but more excitable and interested in the newsies world. Very kind and always concerned of behalf of others. His sweetness does not equal weakness, when Romeo approaches Kath in Carrying the Banner, he’s ready to handle the situation. Yellow suit. Played by Jack Sippel.

so there we go that is every newsie I could think of and then some. I’m gonna attach the pictures I have of an old wikipedia cast list which is what I use for reference since the one that's on wiki now isn’t great

That’s it! If you actually read all this, God bless you. If I got anything blatantly wrong or if you have any questions please talk to me

[mintyobscurity]

Ok, so I'm curious and I saw that you're bored. Plus that ask Anon thing you posted. Figured I'd ask: tell me anything you want about Kihyun. What about him makes you smile, makes you laugh, makes you daydream about him, etc. Yes, I expect a long essay. ;)

Heh you were getting an essay nonetheless! I’m adding a break cause this’ll be long and I don’t want bother people who just want to scroll. This way people can read it if they want!

There are so many things I like about Kihyun, so much I notice aside from his vocals. Kihyun has one of the most stable set of pipes on a man I have ever heard, he sweeps you off your feet with his silky and soft voice. Being able to move around, basically workout and keep those notes on point… talent. I could never. His range is astounding, high tones that flow with effortless precision and he belts out perfect notes every time. To be that talented took hours of practice. Monumental efforts to make sure everything is perfect, and I’m proud of him. His skills come second to none. Such a strong, powerful, voice and I wish more people would recognize or see how beautiful it is, he deserves so much more recognition. If heaven had a sound, it would be Kihyun’s voice. Lisp and all! Also, this man is LOUD! His lisp is precious and I know he gets teased about it, but it’s part of who he is. I could listen to him talk all day and night. As well as dance! He works so hard for us and the group, and though the members say his dances smell, he is really a good dancer! I would love to see a dance duet with Hyungwon and Wonho!~ even Shownu! Kihyun’s dancing is so hypnotic and it enraptures you.

Kihyun readily takes care of everyone and I love that . He’ll play around and laugh along but then just as naturally, he make sure everything is cleaned up or no one is hurt and worries like the caring man he is. He may get frustrated taking on more than his fair share sometimes (and understandably) but for the most part he loves his members and looks after them. It’s heartwarming how caring he is and how hard he tries for us, like all the little messages he posts on fancafe telling us not to worry or saying good luck for exams or not to stress and trying to write some of them in english or a different language just to be closer to international Monbebe’s. He really the most caring and kindhearted man. Kihyun loves us so much and he is always giving great advice to Monbebes. I can feel his love through his words. I love him so much.

Cooks… Cleans… (clam chowder enthusiast, famed chicken lover and dipping his fries in milkshakes.) Kihyun breaks the (toxic) male masculinity that only women cook and clean. Again, he gets teased for having that type of domesticity, but that’s who he is. It’s a part of his personality. He revealed on the last episode of Monsta X Ray season one that if things aren’t done by his standards, he gets stressed about it and Minhyuk proceeded to call him a pervert. The stereotype of females having to do all the housework is broken by Kihyun’s actions and words. A truly inspiring man. Kihyun’s a gentleman! He is so kindhearted, thoughtful. He opens doors for people, well mannered man who helps carry strollers up stairs. He really is the best.

Finger flick master. As one of the top 3 Kpop idols with powerful finger flicking abilities, it always surprises me just how much power his finger harbours. It’s scary, especially after watching his victims reactions to the sudden pain. Not only does the abused area turn red, but Kihyun’s finger swells and turns red as well. I want to experience this once in my life. As much as it seems to hurt, many have said it’s refreshing and it’s something I need.

Kihyun, my gamer! It’s fascinating to wonder what games he plays other than GTA online, what consoles he uses. PlayStation, Nintendo Switch and PC for sure. It’s cringy to think he plays F*rtnight. And his skills on Overwatch are better than I expected when they went up against VIXX! As a gamer myself, I would love to nerd out with him over video games. This man has such a diverse range of talents! Amazing.

Oh and the freckle on his finger is the most precious thing I have ever seen! Never before had I seen a freckle on the inside of someone’s finger before until Kihyun. His neck freckles are just as precious and his high dimples are just as unique as he is. His ethereal visage has me swooning, a handsome man who has my heart. There’s a gesture he makes with his lips, a half smile in which the corner of his lip lifts. And the members tease him about keeping his lips parted when doing a photoshoot. Listen. This man knows what makes fans feel things! He’s sexy! (A shameless flirt) With or without a toned body or abs, Yoo Kihyun is perfect in his own way! He’s mentioned a few times about getting tattoos and lord help me when that happens.

When he is embarrassed he hides (mostly behind the members) and he easily becomes embarrassed when he’s the center of attention. He secretly likes it, but Kihyun himself feels second hands embarrassment even from himself. To take his shyness out, he will direct physical contact towards his members by pushing him or lightly punching if he doesn’t hide. Recently he does a weird move where he bobs torso back and forth and his head sways with it. Along with this, he likes to show off anything he can other than his skills. Adding to this, he likes a challenge. Kihyun likes the attention but again, gets embarrassed once his task is finished. His ears turn red and gosh he’s precious. Upon becoming nervous, a little habit is he will play with his lips by biting them or using his fingers. A possible oral fixation? Maybe~ I would need to fins a way to channel my embarrassment if I had to act cute on TV too! Ah when he does the cringiest shit and acts all confident, but when the others do even something slightly cringey he dies of embarrassment.Duality.

This man has skills in Photography and has his own exhibit, displaying pictures he’s taken. I know I’m repeating myself but is there nothing this man can’t do? His pictures a breathtaking, just as he is. Kihyun has an eye for details, for finding the beauty in things some people might miss. Even the pictures he takes of his group mates are beautiful! He is only capable of carrying out one task at a time, pitting all his focus on one thing at a time and ignoring any distractions that may happen. He said he takes pictures because he can keep the moments, thus he takes a picture. For the moments. Every mood and moment. Capturing the moments he can keep.

English skills! His English has improved so much over the years and I’m so impressed and proud. He speaks with confidence, any way just to communicate. He’s studied and learned so much that he’s practically fluent and can probably hold a conversation in English with someone. A diligent man.

I think his smile is probably the one thing that gets me. I cannot look at any picture of him where he’s smiling, from a tiny smile to the laughing smile, without finding myself smiling along with him. Big Smiles that you can feel with your whole heart when he’s really happy. That eye smile makes me weak.

Kihyun gives everything he does his best efforts and that’s admirable. He radiates dedication; to his skill, to his fans and to his members. I’m very thankful that I get to live in the same life as all of Monsta X of course. I’m grateful for being able to hear Kihyun’s voice, to see his handsome face, to be a part of this world with him even from across the world.

So, there’s no exact thing I can daydream about without thinking about another part of him. He makes me smile in many ways, makes me laugh at so many things and I daydream about his mere existence. There’s nothing I can’t focus on without letting my thoughts wander. I’ll always support him, always love him. The world is a better place with him in it.

I wanna thank a few anons and @stellarkyun for their takes on some of the things I have listed above. I am probably missing people and I apologize. 

[hyycks]

100 reasons to love lee donghyuck

[repost cause i remade oops; ill be posting part two for his birthday!]

“hAEllo my name is Haechan :D”

his raw talent and passion for performing.

he’s always ready to jump on stage and for his very best, and you can see it everytime he smiles at the end of his performance

as a trainee he was one of the best rappers since he had such an amazing sense of rhythm as doyoung mentioned  

music is more than just his job, it’s his passion and he genuinely enjoys learning and experiencing music

his undying love for Michael Jackson

his heart shaped smile that really rivals the sun itself.

his smile is so pure and sincere it can make anyone’s day better

his confidence in his tanned skin, even though some people tease him for it he’s always so loving about his own skin color.

his constant need for physical affection whether it be hugging his members or trying to give Mark cheek kisses

hes not afraid to show his love adoration for members

his laugh and the way he almost falls over from laughing too hard

the fact that he cooks for the members from time to time, showing how much he truly cares for them

mood maker of the group!!! he’s always trying to make everyone happy and keep the team energized with his jokes or random acts!

he’s more considerate than people make him out to be. although people keep teasing Jeno for being “No Jam” he said Jeno is really one of the funniest members as a compliment and Jeno was so smiley throughout the rest of the vlive.

the way he smiles so fondly at the younger members and is always looking out for them

his passion for dancing. even though he’s the vocalist in the group, his dancing skills are truly commendable. he has sharp memory when it comes to dance and he enjoys learning to choreo to sooo many songs!!

the way he calls himself fullsun in English!

HIS ENGLISH! *cue donghyuck saying marshmallow*

his taste in music, he listens to amazing songs across so many different genres, and loves recommending songs to us as well which is so adorable

the way he styles himself! he knows what looks good on him but he’s not afraid to try new things

the fact that he collects LPs! he loves collecting LPs of his favorite albums, and you can see the glimmer of excitement in his eyes when he spotted a few of his fav in LA

his cute tarot readings! also in LA he bought a pack of tarot cards and did some readings for the members and he was so engrossed and into it!

when he’s deeply invested in something, he suddenly goes all quiet and concentrates.

his love for video games! he keeps complaining saying he’s not the best at them but he still tries regardless and enjoys himself!

his voice. his voice is so soothing and gentle, it’s honestly so angelic sm pls let him release a solo track

he can play the piano really well and it’s one of his favorite hobbies !!

he respects shinee a lot, and especially adores Taemins music and he looks up to them!

he grew up so much!! he used to be short and really cute during chewing gum but since then he’s grown really tall!

not just physically, he’s grown so much more mentally. as a person he’s more responsible and careful and he’s so kind and loving

he loves playing with children, and he’s so kind and careful when playing with them!!

even when he’s going through a hard time he tries his best to stay the smiley donghyuck we know of!

his talent doesn’t just stop at performing he does his own eye makeup and shines in his own special way

he wants to be a singer-songwriter and I truly believe he his capable of writing beautiful and amazing music !!

he’s improved so much since the start! he keeps practicing and learning more day by day

he’s so so so caring, when Jisung couldn’t dribble the ball, he kept causing disturbances so that he could redo it!!

the tinie way he kept repeating I love you to sicheng during the 2 year anniversary olive

his giggles!!

dongsookie and the way he laughs while covering his mouth

the way his skin glimmers when he wears the color red

RED! IS! A COLOR! CREATED! FOR! HIM!

he looks so good in red, when he had red hair or whenever he wears red items of clothing his features just stand out so much more!!

he’s been playing football since he was in elementary school and is good at it too!

he’s so good with his words and could easily become a well known variety!dol with his wit and sharp comments

mc!hyuck

sm make hyuck an MC or send him to a variety show please he’s so funnie and quick witted I’m sure he’ll do a great job!

his acting skills! ask him to be dramatic, he’s your guy he can portray multiple emotions in 0.003 seconds what a legend

his lines in paradise :(( (they’re so beautiful I love his voice)

whenever hyuck wears SnapBacks and you can see his cute forehead it just makes me want to give him a thousand tinie kisses

when he gave jeno a kiss on the cheek during the shooting of ‘go’ and just bolted away and how the dreamies remembered it as a memory from shooting the MV

when he harmonizes with Jaehyun and both of their voices sound like angels singing together

on his phone cover he has stickers of all the 127 members from the chain album :(( how … cute

his verses in heartbreaker and angel are the reason why I still breathe they make me feel all giddy inside his voice is so so nice?!

that gif… of donghyuck wrapped up in a blanket and giggling makes my heart jump around like a fool I might as well join the olympics

his high note in ‘go’ is single handedly the best thing ever (renjun singing that part is second)

NCT members said that donghyuck can make delicious food with wtv is in the fridge we love a king of improv cooking

when his hair has his natural waves and he suddenly looks so much more adorable I don’t know how to explain it but .. that photo shoot of his wavy hair … I love it

TRIGGER THE FEVER! All of dreamies did amazing !! BUT TRIGGER THE FEVER I LOVE THE SONG I LOVE HIS SINGING IN THE SONG AND CHOREO IS SO AWESOME I LOVE LOVE LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT

I LOVE HIS HIGH NOTES IN TRIGGER THE FEVER HES SUCH A TALENTED SINGER!!

that aside the dreamies choreos aren’t simple they all put in a lot of work and effort and I’m so proud of all of them, especially my first and last the choreo is so detailed !!

“hErE iS kORea mAN.” “don’T fOrGet okAY?”

him trying to give spoilers for ‘go’ and being pushed off by the other members because he was overdoing it soo much fshsh

whenever they do yaja time, hyuck is either the one having the most fun or suffering the most

when he’s with 127 doing yaja time, he really doesn’t hold back but then karma gets it when jisung picks on him when he’s with the dreamies

when he was directing the boy video for mark and chenle and he kept asking them to change the ‘mood’ of the shoot after every few seconds making everyone laugh

when he held that same eye batting cute smile through most of the live (´｡• ω •｡`)

the fact that he makes up different handshakes with each member and showed them to us too!

behind video for joy and hyuck kept pretending to be lifted up by the helium balloon in the background

Johnny’s love for hyuck and hyucks love johnny, we don’t talk enough about this, they’re both just adorable and so precious

his “hi girls ;D” in the momo x video

when chenle said “sea” in Chinese and hyuck replying “hi :D” cause they sound similar

his cute frustrated face when chenle said he didn’t know what shadow was in korean and he lost the game

when he clung on to mark and said “hyung, I’m hungryyy.” in the most adorable voice ever

“booming system up uh ty track uh ty track”

when doyoung asked hyuck to sing a song from his ost to prove that he heard it and he just sang “APADO GWENCHANA.”

he’s savage and a teasing mess a lot of the times but he’s secretly really sweet and caring and that makes him just so endearing

he may tease mark relentlessly but mark sees him as a younger sibling which shows just how close these two are :((

when his karaoke got voted the most not fun event during NCT life in Paju but instead of just complaining he got up and made a nice breakfast for all of the members

his cover of smooth criminal on weekly idol [plus his cute lisp]

this five seconds at the end of the 00+00+00+00=LOVE vlive where hyuck plays a cover of a thousand miles

when he couldn’t break his chopsticks and taeyong gave him his instead, the way he smiled out of love is just so warm???

he’s honestly so so so talented I mean he’s even good at archery he went on isac and did his very best I was so proud?

when he did a freestyle to whiplash? like where does his talent stop? he’s so talented and skilled in so many areas?

those tiny video which he posts on twitter looking like the cutest boy ever

the way he looks when he wears glasses is just so cute and adorable?

that clip of him jumping around in the feathers for the touch MV

his eyes that are shaped like tony almonds that hold the glimmer of all the stars in this universe combined

his strong stage charisma that has the ability to leave everyone stunned

his scar next to his eye that just makes him all the more human and all the more lovable

all of the moles on his body that deserve to kissed and loved over and over again

he’s really sweet and kind but he loves prancing his members tbt NCT life in Paju when he pranked the members with salted sprite and soy sauce cola and half the members didn’t trust him because they’re used to his pranks

that time when he and Jeno pranked jisung by changing his iPad wallpaper to a cockroach

the way he giggles is so soft and loving it makes flowers bloom all over the world

That time when Chenle and Hyuck relentlessly pushed away members in NCT Dream School Mate to win the game. “yEA ChEnLE BaBY”

he’s actually so thoughtful, he bought a radio just because Johnny and Jaehyun host a radio show to show how much he loves and supports them

when he was singing “baby don’t like it” live on NCT night night but forgot the lyrics it was so cute? (not to mention how blessed his voice was)

kept dancing to other groups choreos instead of their own when dreamies were doing the let’s dance and mark got so frustrated

NCT 127 on Ah!Nimdle where he kept rushing to the front to answer questions about the members by “giving up on looking handsome” (we’d all do it for food thanks)

his commentary on the soccer vlive he did with Jisung and Jungwoo and Yuta! (sm he’s so talented look)

he cuddles people in his sleep which is why he wanted to room with Jeno because he’s comfortable with him but when Jeno exposed hyuck he got so so so so so shy owo

In general he’s such an amazingly talented and wonderful person. He deserves so much more love and I just wish he’d get the appreciation he deserves because even through all the hardships he manages to stay the fullsun we all know and love.

[justanotherzosofangirl]

Front Page—Chapter Three: Inquiry

Author’s Note: FINALLY! SOME FREAKING ZEPPELIN! SORT OF! Sorry for the delay people, family stuff going on. BUT I have some actual contact with someone from Zeppelin in this chapter! Let me know what you think of it!

Knock, knock, knock. “Hello? Anybody here?”

Elora tapped her left foot impatiently as she waited for a response. She’d been standing in front of the Boston Tea Party venue for the past five minutes, looking like a damn fool trying to get in.

She was already getting odd looks from passersby, but that was hardly any of her concern.

The Boston Tea Party itself wasn’t anything remarkable from the outside: basic brick building with a red awning, black double doors, and absolutely no windows on the outside.

“Whatcha want?”

Elora jumped when one of the doors opened and a tall girl with a rather muscular frame came out. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. She donned a black studded newsboy cap, which surprisingly matched the tight-fitting black dress and knee-high boots she had on.

Had she not looked so bored as she chewed her gum, the girl would have struck Elora as a potential friend.

But business was business.

“Ah, hi, Elora Jameson, I’m with the Globe,” Elora stuck out her hand, hoping she’d at least have the courtesy to shake it.

The girl just rolled her eyes. “Yeah? So what?”

Elora kept her cool. She wasn’t gonna let this girl’s negativity stand in her way of at least trying to talk to somebody today.

“I heard Led Zeppelin’s playing here next week. Any chance I could speak to the band before they go on?”

The girl snorted. “Fat chance,” the girl muttered. “They’re not one to do interviews, I hear, and I doubt they’ll wanna talk to somebody like you.”

Elora narrowed her eyes. “And what makes you so sure? Have you met them personally?”

The girl shook her head. “No, but they came here back in January. Weren’t a fan of the media trying to bombard them with questions and photos.”

Elora breathed in through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. “Well, I’m not paparazzi. I’m a reporter, and I just wanna talk to them about their music. I’m not gonna ask them about their personal life, because that’s not the angle I’m going for. If anything, this article I’m working on could serve as free advertising for your place.” Elora jerked her thumb upwards at the venue.

“Whether or not I can talk to them, people read about the Tea Party in the paper, they’re bound to check it out. But if you don’t want to garner a bigger crowd, I’m sorry I wasted my time and yours. Goodbye.”

Elora turned on her heels to go and made it halfway down the street when she heard the girl shout, “WAIT!”

She turned around and smiled, making her way back to her.

“Look, I’ll talk to my boss and see if he can give you the phone number for Zeppelin’s manager. I can’t guarantee that he’ll let you speak to them, but it’s the least I can do, all right?”

Elora nodded. “Thanks, that’s all I needed to hear.”

**********

Peter Grant.

Elora raised an eyebrow at the name and phone number scribbled on the back of a napkin. Judging from the name, Grant seemed like he’d be a simple guy to talk to, which meant her interview was as good as booked.

She had enough extra change on her to make the long-distance call, all she needed was a phone booth.

Luckily, there was one across the street by the entrance to the ballpark. Elora was so elated to finally get started that she ran across the street without looking and nearly got struck by a Ford Pickup.

“Watch where ya going, you dumb broad!” The driver shouted. He was middle-aged, overweight, and was chomping on a Cuban cigar.

“Sorry, I have something to do, excuse me!”

The driver shook his head and drove down the street.

Elora paused a moment to clean her glasses before she dropped her change into the coin slot. Sticking her right pointer finger into her right ear to drown out the sounds of traffic, she pressed the buttons quickly and waited for the line to ring.

And ring it did, for almost ten minutes. Elora knew they weren’t in England this week (as the girl had been kind enough to inform her), but she was surprised at how long it took to reach a guy in Minnesota.

“Hello? Who’s this?”

Elora almost gasped but caught herself. Whoever she was talking to had a gruff yet proper voice, and if she heard correctly, he had a slight lisp.

“Yes, may I speak to Peter Grant, please?” She asked in the most confident voice she could muster.

“You’re speaking to him, Miss,” He answered. “Now what can I do for you?”

Elora gulped. This was it. “My name’s Elora Jameson, and I’m—”

Click.

Elora was taken aback.Did he just hang up on her?

She dug around in her purse and saw she had some extra change left minus the funds she needed for the train ride home. She paid and dialed once more and waited patiently until Grant answered again.

“Who is it?”

Elora cleared her throat. “I’m the woman you just hung up on. Now if you’d be so kind as to let me explain myself, I—”

“Miss, I’m sorry, but if you’re asking to meet the band this isn’t—”

“Sir, this is a press inquiry,” Elora cut him off. “but I’m not writing for a gossip column. I’m writing for the entertainment section of the Boston Globe. I saw Led Zeppelin is scheduled to play the Boston Tea Party next week, and if you want more people to come see them, don’t you think it’d make sense if people got to know who they are and what they’re about?”

There was a pregnant pause on the other end. Grant was probably considering the offer. Good, Elora thought.

“You say you’re from Boston, miss?” Grant asked.

“That’s right,” Elora answered.

“Well, we did a gig there back in January. We were pretty successful, I might add. Also, you folks in Massachusetts seem to enjoy us pretty well...alright, then, if you can promise us a substantial conversation, We’d be happy to speak with you next Monday before the show.”

Elora was practically beaming at this point. About time!

“Thank you sir!” She exclaimed. “What time and where?”

“How about we meet in the evening, five o’clock your time? You know of a restaurant we can go to?”

Elora thought for a moment. As with all of her interviews, she wanted to make sure these guys were in a comfortable environment. And since they were coming to Massachusetts after having been to hundreds of different places around the world (she assumed), she figured they should go to the one place everyone in the Bay State should go to at least once, damn the expense.

“Why don’t we meet at Legal Seafoods in Cambridge? It’s a wonderful place, and you’ll be eating the best seafood in New England.”

Peter laughed. “So long as they have fish and chips on the menu, that sounds grand! We’ll keep in touch. Can I have your number, miss Jameson?”

They exchanged numbers, and Peter promised to call Elora at home when they arrived into Boston safely next Monday morning.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Grant. I look forward to meeting you and the band.”

She hung up the phone and sighed in relief. Things were shaping up nicely.

———————————————————————

Taglist: @tangerinethewhitesummerqueen @ritacaroline @tremble-and-shake @basementmermaid @rocknrollababes @girlofthemoon75 @the-honeydripper

[westallenfun]

Before the Hood - 1/6

For @jade4813 from @backtothestart02​ -I’m not going to lie. This gets pretty angsty pretty quickly and ends on a bittersweet note. But it’s meant to be the prequel to my Robin Hood westallen AU that I plan to write eventually (yes, this is a Robin Hood AU, you got me), and that fic will end very happily, so if you’d like, you can consider that your fic too. I hope you’re able to enjoy this fic though!

I so appreciate you as a person and a shipper and a writer. I am always so inspired by you and your talent and appreciate so much how kind you are. So I was unbelievably excited when I received your name as my giftee (you write such incredible AUs!). Hopefully you will enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it and be hopeful about what comes after instead of in a puddle of tears. I hope I can do your masterpieces some justice and that you have an amazing Christmas and holiday season!!

Merry Christmas!

…

(All of these chapters have been lightly proofread, so feel free to do a re-read once I post them to AO3 & FFnet, b/c I’m sure they’ll be in much better condition then.)

Fun Fact: I did some medieval research for this story that I did try to incorporate. (1) People were not meant to be educated unless they were upperclass/royalty/clergymen. (2) Women were rarely educated period, unless upperclass and then very little. They were expected to marry and raise children. (3) The Crusades and everything according to the Robin Hood legend that I googled I tried to incorporate to some degree, since I did keep the story set in the Middle Ages. (There’s prob more, but I can’t think of what at the moment.)

…

Chapter 1 -

Collin Woods.

A place thick with trees, alive with wildlife, and far from any central city on the map, two hundred miles away from the literal Central City. Within the woods contained the small town of the same name, the only structure cresting above the trees being the stone castle of the royals. Previously residing there was King Richard – a loyal, good king who took care of his people and flourished the town with bountiful riches and a thriving population. But within the past several months he had left the town and its people to embark on the noble quest of fighting in the Crusades. In his place, he left his younger brother, Prince John, a selfish, spoiled, adolescent fool who little by little drained the small town of its resources until the only thing rich and satisfying to the eye could be found within the castle grounds.

Many of the young men of the town had gone off to fight in the Crusades with their King. Not all could go, because work needed to be done that could not only be sustained by older men, women, and children. But some left not only for the cause itself but to escape the death trap that had become their once thriving homeland. War with all its drudgery, pain, and rate of death on the battlefield was still a welcome reprieve. To those that survived, they only hoped their king would return with them and so sustain the lands they used to call home and create a small paradise once again for themselves and those they loved.

Beside Prince John was his wise and yet often taken for granted advisor, Sir Hiss – not his actual name of course, but his natural born lisp that often affected his speech had granted him the title. The superficial prince did nothing to correct it. Since he relished as well as mocked his only true friend – if he could be called that – the name suited him in the latter case. Trained guards were at Prince John’s disposal, as well as the particularly greedy Sheriff of Collin Woods, Clifford Devoe.

Amongst the townspeople was the West family, but with the father, Joseph, and the son, Wallace, off to fight in the Crusades, and the mother, Francine, passed many years ago, the daughter, Maid Iris, was ordered by Prince John to live under the care of Sheriff DeVoe and his wife, Marlise. Iris was rarely seen after that, except for at festivals hosted by Prince John. And by one other, who she risked everything to see night after night by moonlight, hidden amongst the trees lining Silver Lake.

Barry Allen.

Bartholomew was his given name, but hardly rolling off the tongue, his best friend, Cisco – who’d also shortened his name – decided on a nick name for the young Allen. To those around him, it had stuck.

Barry was the only child of Henry and Nora Allen. The former was the only doctor in the town. He had taken a young pupil under his wing, a girl – which was most unheard of, Caitlin Snow. He’d tried to lure his son into the teachings of medicine. There were few things greater than the ability to heal, he would say. But young Barry would have none of it. And being a friend of Caitlin himself, Barry encouraged the union. There should be more than two doctors in one town, should one fall ill, heaven forbid. But it wasn’t going to be him. Most of the time when he wasn’t home, he traveled into town to offer his skills – that of repairing homes and entertaining children – as proof of his servitude. His mother, Nora, who was a seamstress to nearly everyone found this to be a great addition to the work force. And since she needed to do little to win over her husband, most of the time he relented.

But Barry didn’t spend all of his time tending to the needs of the townsfolk. His favorite pastimes were narrowed down to three: fishing with his best friend, Cisco, practicing archery from his handmade bow and arrows, and visiting Maid Iris by moonlight.

One late afternoon in June, finished with his tasks for today, Barry idly leaned against a tree and carved himself some new arrows, preparing to get some practice in. For the Crusades he would tell his father if the subject ever arose. But it hadn’t yet. Only his friends knew of his hobby, and it was kept amongst them. It was no secret Barry didn’t want to go to war.

“Hey!”

The disgruntled voice pulled Barry out of his reverie, and he saw an unamused Cisco standing inches beneath where his arrow had landed, a hole piercing his new hat as it stay pinned against the tree behind him.

Barry had the decency to blush.

“Sorry, Cisco.”

Cisco carefully pulled the arrow free and his hat with it and placed it back on his head.

“Watch it. My mother made that.”

Cisco’s mother was not the greatest seamstress – as was evidenced by the seams falling apart of the hats she made for her son, even without arrows being shot through them. But his parents looked down upon the Allen’s for Henry’s audacity to train a young girl in medicine, to educate a peasant girl whose duty it was to marry and raise children, not attempt to heal people. And also, because Barry’s parents were not stricter with him. As a result, they forbid their son from being friends with Barry – an order he ignored fervently.

“My mother could make you a new one,” Barry offered, not for the first time, as he turned his full attention to his friend.

Cisco snorted. “My mother would know. She knows she can’t sew. It has never been her talent. And if she saw how neatly the seams were sewn, she’d know where I had been.”

Barry nodded. He knew. He just couldn’t help but offer.

“Did you see Caitlin today?” Cisco asked casually, leaning against the tree beside Barry.

Barry shook his head. “I left early this morning. Ralph was off with Sue again, so he wasn’t around to watch his younger brothers and sisters. I offered my services.”

Cisco’s lips turned up in a smirk. “Of course you did.”

“It is my contribution,” Barry said, picking up another arrow and shaving down the sides so it would fly more smoothly.

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

He shrugged.

“Maybe you’re just jealous Ralph can spend time with Sue in broad daylight when you have to sneak around with Iris by moonlight.”

Barry froze, his eyes wide as he turned to look at his friend.

“What? You thought I didn’t know?”

Barry turned his body fully.

“I’m your best friend,” Cisco said, offended.

“You’re not- You didn’t- Does anyone else-”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course no one else knows. At least not because of me. I won’t tell a soul.” He paused. “At least not until you do.”

Barry snorted and returned to his arrows.

“I’ll never be able to do that,” he muttered under his breath.

“You never know,” Cisco said, softening.

Barry picked up his bow and arrow and aimed for a farther tree.

“As long as King Richard is fighting in the Crusades and Iris is cooped up with that awful Sheriff DeVoe, there’s no way we can be together openly. She’ll probably marry that awful knight Julian,” Barry said, scowling.

“I thought he’s planning to leave for the Crusades,” Cisco said, his brows fusing together.

“Not before obtaining a marriage proposal, I bet.”

“And why would the Sheriff say yes to him? He gains too much by keeping Iris locked up. He feeds off her inheritance.”

Barry lowered his bow. “Because Julian is a knight, and his father is in Prince John’s royal guard. He probably thinks Julian won’t return from the Crusades and he won’t have to worry about it.”

“But if he does return…”

“He’ll have to own up to the promise. And Maid Iris will have no choice in the matter.”

Cisco shoulders slumped, and then he gathered himself together, determined to let them not both be burdened down by this possibility.

“It might not happen,” he offered. “Julian’s thirst for war might overcome his desire for Iris.”

Barry looked at him. “It does.”

Cisco’s brows furrowed again.

“Julian wants her because I have her. It’s his petty jealousy for everything I have that is greater than his thirst for war. All the medals and glory in the world would mean nothing to him if they didn’t also crush me into the ground in the process.”

He shot off another arrow, this one recklessly into the air at a distance. Someone could trace it, find him, discover his hobby and somehow use it against him. But he didn’t care. Few things stifled his hatred for Julian Albert, son of the guard, knight in training, who gloated about all that he would receive on his return from the Crusades. More than once Barry had wanted to retort bitterly, ‘If you return.’ But he’d held his breath. He wouldn’t sink to his level.

“And what do you have that he doesn’t?” Cisco asked, though he knew at least some of what his answer would be.

“Both parents, friends, the right to choose what I want to do, and a father who is willing to bend the rules for the sake of the people.”

“And the love of Iris,” Cisco added, which made Barry’s anger finally fizzle out.

“Yes. And that.”

…

In the quiet cottage just off the edge of town, Nora Allen sat in her rocking chair and picking up a new color of yarn to add to her nearest quilt. She hummed quietly to herself, a melody to harmonize with the blue birds chirping outside the window. The sun shone through it, warming her face, and with the scent of biscuits wafting out of the oven, she knew dinner would soon be at hand. The chicken was ready, and the corn. With the prepared food would come her husband, her son, and the young girl Henry had taken under his wing, Caitlin Snow.

Caitlin was a quiet one. With long brown locks and the same purple, cotton dress she wore day after day, only changing the ribbons in her hair on occasion, Nora had taken to mothering her. She’d never had a daughter, and there was much about Caitlin that appealed to her. From her determination to chase after her dreams to her polite refusal of anything that might inconvenience anyone, Nora welcomed having her in their home and at their table. A few times she had studied her son’s interactions with her to see if there was any spark. She certainly wouldn’t mind having Caitlin officially part of their family.

But Caitlin, it seemed, was in love with a slightly older boy, Ronnie Raymond, who had gone off to fight in the Crusades. And Nora’s boy, Barry, she had begun to suspect, still fancied Maid Iris.

It was a star-crossed romance she’d hoped her son could avoid. Not because she held anything against Iris or her family, but because it would be nearly impossible for them to find happiness together in a practical sense with Iris being elevated in her father’s and brother’s absence. In addition, she knew the feelings had not been one-sided before Joseph and Wallace had left for Crusades. That made the young romance even more devastating.

But Iris lived with Sheriff DeVoe now, who was snide and arrogant and in line with that terrible Prince John who was constantly raising the taxes. She hoped Marlise DeVoe, who while loyal to her husband, didn’t appreciate his tactics, had taken Iris under her wing and protected her. Heaven only knows what kind of atmosphere existed in that house if she hadn’t.

With Prince John’s almost constant raising of taxes – and demand in paying them being more frequent – Nora worried that soon Henry would allow appointments without pay. He tried to be firm and decisive on the outside, but on the inside his love for her and his son and the townspeople had turned him to mush. After all, once Barry had made it clear he would not be following in his footsteps, Henry had sought out a pupil and had no qualms whatsoever about taking on Caitlin Snow.

The sound of the heavy wooden door being opened interrupted her thoughts, and the sound of her husband’s warm voice made the sadness of her thoughts all but disappear.

“Something smells good,” Henry said, walking through the door. “You smell that, Caitlin?” The young girl nodded beside him. “It smells wonderful.”

Nora smiled to herself, set aside her tools and yarn and walked into the entryway adjoining the kitchen.

“You’re home,” she said, to which her husband crossed the distance between them and placed a kiss on her cheek. “It smells so good.” He pulled back. “Is it biscuits?”

She nodded. “Yes. And chicken and potatoes.”

Caitlin’s eyes lit up. “You have potatoes?”

“Yes. And I’m going to mash them. Would you like to help?”

Caitlin nearly bounced up on her toes. It never ceased to amazing Nora how this girl could go from being shy to eager and excited when new opportunities presented themselves. She wondered what that meant about her home life but decided not to think on it.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she chuckled. “Come on.” She nodded her head towards the hot pot over the fire and grabbed some pot warmers so as not to burn herself. “Grab a bowl from the bottom shelf. We’ll put them in there first.”

Caitlin did as she was told and used the large spoon to transfer the vegetable. Nora looked over her shoulder at her husband as she did so.

“Have you seen Barry today?”

“Not this morning,” he said on a sigh. “But the Dibny’s informed me he spent all morning with their rambunctious children, so he must’ve done some good today.”

“Henry.” Her voice lowered, and he reined himself in.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s a good thing what he’s doing. It’s better than just lying around this place all day. I’m glad he’s getting work in and that he’ll help out with the harvest in the fall.”

“Oh!” Caitlin interjected, spying the individual in question walking passed the distant window. “I think I see him.”

Moments later, the door opened and Barry walked in, a basket of freshly pulled carrots in his arms.

“Carrots,” Caitlin said, awe-struck by yet another delicious food being added to the menu.

“What a brilliant idea, Barry. Thank you for thinking of it,” his mother said.

He forced a smile that matched his father’s until Henry felt the glare his wife was delivering to the back of his head.

“I thought it might…add something,” Barry added lamely, avoiding his father’s gaze.

“I talked to the Dibny’s earlier today,” Henry said, pushing bitter feelings behind him for the sake of the meal and the company. “It sounds like you were very helpful to them this morning.”

Barry looked at him, then glanced at his mother and Caitlin and knew he had to do something to release the tension.

“Well, someone had to be, what with Ralph running off with Sue just as his brothers and sisters were waking up.”

Henry softened, a proud smile gracing his features.

“I’m glad you stepped up, son.” He gripped his shoulder. “It’s good to know what’s important in life and not go running after a lass before you’ve found your place.”

He glanced over at Caitlin.

“Nothing against you, of course, Caitlin.”

She grinned sardonically.

“Of course not. I’m special.”

Barry shook his head at the comment, but it had the whole family laughing, and so the tension was broken.

…

Night descended over Collin Woods about an hour after dinner. Caitlin had returned home, promising to meet Henry at his clinic the next day as early as she could. He promised to bring food with him and Nora insisted she come home with Henry for dinner again. Caitlin was reluctant to make that promise, so she just smiled as a goodbye and waved her hand on the way out. Barry watched her from the front window and thought about the impact she made on their home. He was glad to have her in his life, and glad even more so that she’d provided an escape for him from his father’s profession. But he worried some about her home life. Whenever he saw her about in town, there was no light in her eyes. She looked sullen, almost like a young child. And he saw the tight grip her mother always had on her even though she was three years into adulthood at age fifteen. It just made him more aware of the destruction Prince John had brought upon their little town.

Barry lay in bed until he could hear his parents’ snores drifting down the hall. Deeming it safe to slip out, he pushed open his window and carefully climbed over the ledge to the other side. He closed it after he’d landed in the grass, keeping it open a crack so he wouldn’t have difficulty going in, and then slinked away from his home, taking off as fast as one of his arrows as soon as he’d reached the cluster of trees thickening like a swarm of flies on the way to Central Pond.

He got to the edge of the water, looked up and saw some hazy clouds crossing over the moon. He worried for a moment that she wouldn’t come. They had always said that if it was a cloudy night, maybe it was a sign they shouldn’t meet up that night, that there was somehow a better likelihood of them being caught, even if logically that didn’t make sense. They should be harder to see with no grand moonlight making figures known amongst the trees.

But he didn’t have to worry long. Because mere moments later, a tap came on his shoulder, and he nearly fell into the water because of it.

“Barry!” she quietly shrieked, pulling him back by the fabric of his shirt, and then dissolving into a fit of giggles when she did. Putting a hand over her mouth, she tried to compose herself. “I’m sorry.”

He was flushed, breathing heavily for a few moments, but then a silly grin stretched across his face.

“No apology needed,” he said, then took her hand and led her away from the water into the woods. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

“So was I,” she said. “The clouds were so much thicker from my bedroom window.” She came to a stop and held both of her hands in his, swinging a little on the balls of her feet. “But I thought I’d make a try for it. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

In truth it had been two days, and the only reason they hadn’t met up was because of storms, rain that poured hard and for hours. But it still felt like an eternity. Every moment apart felt like a lifetime.

“I know,” he said, intertwining their fingers together. “It’s been forever.”

He couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled on her hands with his own, instantly bringing her closer, and met her lips with a sudden kiss. She melted into it, and so did he. His arms moved to settle on her waist as hers wrapped around his neck. And for a while they stood there in the filtered moonlight, just ignoring the world around them.

“Oh, Barry,” she murmured, eventually pulling back enough to lay her head on his chest. He swayed them gently. “I wish it could be like this forever.”

He rested his cheek on the top of her head and shut his eyes, listening to the sway of her long dress in the night breeze.

“So do I.”

“I dream at night about us, you know.”

He smiled to himself. “You do?”

“Well, don’t you?” She lifted her head to look up at him.

“Of course, Iris. I dream about you even when I’m not sleeping. I almost shot Cisco with an arrow today because I was so distracted dreaming of you.”

Her eyes sparkled. “You wouldn’t have hit him.”

“I don’t know…I was pretty distracted.”

“You never miss,” she said. “Not even when you’re distracted.”

“I might’ve made an exception for Julian,” he joked lightly.

She smirked. “I might’ve let you.”

He didn’t know if her not liking Julian any more than he did made their situation even more tragic, but he decided he liked it. Better the knight not be his competition when it came to Iris’ heart. In any other way, he could deal, even if he didn’t want to, but if he was unsure about where her heart lie, he was sure he would die.

“Come on,” he said, stepping back enough to just hold her hand. “I want to show you something.”

Iris bit her bottom lip and ran with him through the woods until they came to a large tree. She stopped before he did and looked up at the spectacle before them.

“It’s amazing,” she said, awestruck.

“It’s old,” he responded. “And probably shouldn’t be climbed on.” He bent down to pick something off the grass just around the old oak. “But it’s unlike any other tree in the whole forest, and I think we should make it our own.”

He came back to her and handed her a rock, sharp and narrow at the end. She looked at it strangely and met his eyes with a quizzical expression.

“What are you thinking, Barry?”

He grinned and pulled her to the large, oak tree. Then she watched as he used his own rock to painstakingly carve his initials into the wood. He made a small cross beneath it and stepped back. He glanced at her when she didn’t move.

“Your turn,” he said.

Excitedly, though she tried to contain herself, Iris stepped forward and carved her own initials in. Then, without any prodding, she drew a large heart around their letters and stepped back, looking at their masterpiece proudly.

“I love you, Iris,” he said, softly, and she turned to find him staring at her, so much love in his eyes. She didn’t doubt his declaration for a second.

“I love you, too, Barry,” she returned, taking both his hands in hers as they’d been before.

“I don’t know how long we can be like this,” he admitted. “But I’m going to treasure every moment.” He brought their clasped hands to his heart and held them there. “You’re my home, Iris. And that’s one thing that will never change.”

Her heart aflutter, and all words fallen away from her memory, she smiled softly in response. Then she tilted her face up, closed her eyes, and waited for him to kiss her.

[svt-stories]

I think the world would be blessed if we had Mingyu CEO! smut. So could I request one...?

I haven’t written in ages and also my sister is hella into Mingyu so i don’t see him in any type of attraction way but this seemed fun. this ended up kinda long or at least it seems like it so I hope you enjoy.

edit: Im shitty, i started this weeks ago when i said were coming back so the tone might switch halfway bc I was in a different mind of writing

theres no smut in this part, hopefully in a part two but i wrote this so long ago

Your head throbbed, smell of printer ink and stale coffee wafted through the unmoving office air. For a company that was focused on innovation, you would assume that it could handle the damn CEO coming for a check in. You started at 7TEEN industries five months back and those months had been filled with the best job you had ever had. You have motivation, talent at your job and a happy environment. 

Considering the past months, it wasn’t wrong to think the vibe would remain the same but man, were you wrong. The first hint of an issue happened last week during your daily lunch with Seungkwan, the floor secretary, and DK, 7TEEN’s intern. Never once in the five months have you seen them apart. Coming along for that day was Soonyoung, floor manager.

Seungkwan sipped on his berry blaster smoothie, eager for the rest of you to sit down with your food to spit the latest office gossip. “You guys won’t believe wants happening.” He announced, practically bouncing in his seat. You roll your eyes, as this sentence was a daily occurrence. 

“What is it this time.” You take a bite of your meal. 

“The CEO is making a visit next week.” Seungkwan leans in, whispering.

Soonyoung chokes on his food following the information. “THE CEO?”

Dk laughs “Who else. The hunky, tall, rich, handsome, dash-”

“Enough” You cut DK off, not seeing an end to his sentence in sight. Dk pouts, returning his attention to his food. “So? What about him.”

Seungkwan bounces with excitement due to your ‘interest’ “CEO Mingyu is a known playboy, every time he visits he sleeps with someone, not to mention fires someone.”

“It’s even been the same person before.” Soonyoung adds with food in his mouth. 

“Try not to make eye contact, we need you to stay around.” Dk jokes, or at least you thought it was.

A week later brings you to now, trying to block out the murmurs and excitement to actually get some work down. It managed to work until you heard multiple coughs trying to get your attention. “Y/N” Your boss said, voice stern. You look up from your papers to see a familiar face, and a not so familiar one. 

“Good Afternoon Mr. Choi, how can I help you?” You put on your best “business” voice. 

“I wanted to introduce you to Mr. Kim Mingyu, the CEO of our company.” You look over to Mr. Kim, who had an intimidating smirk across his face. ‘They’re our best employee, only started here a few months back.”

“No wonder I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you.” Mr. Kim greets, a faint lisp in his words. He sticks his hand out firmly, and you do the same, shaking his warm, slightly calloused hand. 

“Nice to meet you, Sir.” 

“Please, call me Mr. Kim.” He smiles, eyes scrunching. After a few moments your boss leads him away, and you return to your work. 

A few hours later, Seungkwan is popping by your desk. “Y/N” He sings, drawing out each syllable. 

“Hmm?”

“Mr. Kim, would like to speak with you.” The giggles in his voice was hard to hide. 

You swallow thickly. “And how do you know I’m not getting fired?”

“With that body? Highly doubt it.” Seungkwan laughs harder. “Tic toc, better get going.” You drop your head on your desk.

“I cannot deal with this right now.” You mumble to yourself before getting the courage to push away from your desk and walk with shaky legs to the elevator. 

“Be back for lunch!” Dk shouts from behind you, amusement clear in his tone. 

The climb of the elevator took a toll on your state of mind, would it really be bad to fuck the CEO? But then again, how cliche would that be. A loud ding shook you out of your thoughts. As the door opened, it showed a hallway leading to his office, The only thing in the path being Mr. Kim’s secretary. She shot you a knowing, secretive glance. You swallow down the thick pool of saliva in your mouth, with a bit of your pride, before knocking on his door. 

“Come in.” his voice answered the knock. 

“You asked to see me?” You smile at the CEO. He faced away from you, appearing lost in thought, but soon turned around. 

“Yes, I did, I was just looking through the monthly reports and stumbled across some interesting information.” He began.

this was it, you thought, he found that my sales were bad, and I’m going to have to fuck my way out of it to keep my job. You sigh, slightly too audible. 

“Nothing bad.” He chuckles, able to read half of your thoughts from your expression. “The opposite to be exact, you have topped your previous sales each month, the best in the district. You even managed to have our competitor’s biggest buyer switch to us!” His mouth hung open slightly with a smirk on his face, as if he was in awe. “It’s absolutely incredible, how did you manage?” It took a few beats of silence before you realized you had to answer.

“I uh, talk them through the pros and cons of working with us versus other companies. The key factor is making them believe they made the decision to buy, rather that me ‘begging’ them to.” You explain. Mr. Kim nods along. “So by doing those simple tasks 8 times out of 10, they are sure to buy, even a tiny amount.” You finish, shifting your weight awkwardly from foot to foot. 

“Interesting, I’ll be sure to share that in this weeks email, we need the whole team pulling as much weight as you.” You smiles warmly, walking around to the front of his glass desk and leaning on it. “That’s all I wanted to ask, you can return to work.”

“That’s all?” Mr. Kim’s eyebrow shot up. 

“Were you expecting more?” The subtly smirk returns to his lips as he begins to roll the cuffs of his shirt past his elbow. You couldn’t help that your eyes followed the movement. 

“No, thank you for noticing my work si- Mr. Kim, have a good afternoon.” You were about to turn away, until you noticed him striding towards you.

“I’m assuming you’ve heard the rumors then.” His height became painfully obvious when he stood right at your feet, face inches from your own. “I can’t say I’d be disappointed if that’s where you wanted this meeting to go.” He placed one hand against the wall behind your head, halfway caging you in. “Don’t think this involves your job though, just two, consenting adults, looking to have some fun at work.” 

Honestly, you were speechless, unsure what to do. “Sorry, I promised to be somewhere for lunch.” You manage to mumble out before turning on your heels and out the door. The hallway felt longer than before as you speed walked back to the elevator. 

When you reached your desk again, the boys looked shocked to see you. “What are you doing here?” They all said.

“You said to be back for lunch.” You huffed, taking a seat at your desk. 

Weeks went by, and everyday you couldn’t think about anything other than Mr. Kim. You had learned his name was Mingyu, that he worked hard from a young age to get to where he was. That when he was younger, being a famous singer/rapper was one of his dreams. That he has a lisp, that he loves to cook. All around, everything seemed perfect surrounding Kim Mingyu, and it made your heart ache. Especially seeing him helping around with projects, carrying heavy loads of paperwork that made his muscles bulge. Whether it was infatuation or sexual frustration, you needing it out of your system, now. 

“I’m going to miss lunch.” You grumbled to the guys before stand up and heading towards the elevator. Now or never chanted over and over in your head. The elevator climbed slowly yet too fast at the same time. Your motivation remained

-june

HEY GUYS I KINDA WANT TO COME BACK AND WRITE BUT IDK HOW OFTEN I WILL BE ABLE TO BUT I WANT TO TRY BECAUSE I MISS THE LITTLE COMMUNITY WE HAVE. I WROTE THIS MONTHS AGO SO ILL TRY TO FINISH IT LATER WITH THE SMUT THANK YOU

[lostinreality014]

You Look Perfect Tonight - Part II

Part I  Part II  Part III

Author’s Notes: Ceremony dialogue in this part is crafted from a couple of different scripts I found on wedding/civil ceremonies planning websites - they can be found HERE, HERE, and HERE. I re-wrote/paraphrased the bits and pieces I liked as I wanted the ceremony dialogue to fit the Niall and Evie I created in my head when I wrote my APC. Niall’s and Evie’s vows are my own creation.

Another shoutout and big thank you to @imagine-that-one-thing for being my beta to this piece. :)

Also Note: this piece is also posted on my Wattpad account.

Photo Credits as Follows: Bride;  Venue;  Groom

Any pieces I post here are mine and all rights are reserved. I do not give permission for my work to be posted on any other platform. Unless I explicitly state that I have posted one of my works on another platform, please let me know immediately if you see my writing anywhere other than Tumblr. Thank you.

The Ceremony

The hour between our first look photos and the start of our ceremony flew by. Lottie had just enough time to touch up my make up before having to hurry off and find her seat for the ceremony. And Lou had just enough time to touch up a couple of curls and pin them back into place before Lucy, the wedding coordinator for the Estate, knocked on the door to let us know it was time for us to line up.

“You ready to go, munchkin?” Lou asked Lux.

“Yes!” she exclaimed excitedly but then gasped. “No, I’m not! I forgot something.”

“What’d you forget? You have your bouquet.”

“No I forgot something else.” I heard her say. “Evie?” she asked, tapping my arm gently to get my attention.

“Yes, my love?” I smiled down at her.

“I have something for you.”

“You do?” I asked as I sat down on the sofa so I was eye level with her. She nodded and turned to set her bouquet down on the small coffee table before turning back to face me.

“Your bracelet?” I asked as she slid the blue, beaded bracelet off her tiny wrist. 

“Uh huh.” she said, holding it out for me to take.

“Oh, Lux.” I breathed. “That’s so sweet of you. But I can’t accept that. You worked so hard to save up for it.”

“I know. But I want you to have it. For good luck.” she said, picking up my hand and sliding it on my wrist for me. Tears welled up in my eyes as she looked up at me with a smile to match Lou’s on her face.

“Are you sure you want me to have this? Maybe I could borrow it for the ceremony then give it back to you after?” she shook her head emphatically.

“No. I’m sure. I want you to have it.” I wrapped her up in a hug.

“That is very kind of you. Thank you.” I blinked back tears as I gave her hands a gentle squeeze. 

“You’re welcome.” She said, her smile widening.

“I love you a whole lot, you know that?”

“I love you a whole lot too.”

“Are you ready now?” I asked her.

“Now I’m ready.” She said turning to pick up her bouqet. Before turning to leave, she stood up on her tip toes and pecked a kiss to my cheek. My heart had already melted because she was so adamant about me having her bracelet. But now I just felt like it was going to explode. I got back to my feet just as she followed Denise and Lucy out of the room.

“That is one very special little girl you have.” Mum said to Lou as she handed me my bouquet.

“I got really lucky.” she agreed.

“I’m not smudged am I?” I asked Lou, dabbing under my eyes with my free hand.

“No. You’re perfect. You know Lottie wouldn’t do you wrong on your wedding day.” I choked out a laugh and nodded.

“She wouldn’t do me wrong even if she was just doing my make up for a girls night out.”

“Very true.” Lou nodded with a smile. “I better see tears of pure joy on that boy’s face when you walk down the aisle toward him or I’m smacking him upside the head.” I laughed as the three of us made our way out of the room. When we reached the foyer of the building, Lux, Denise, and Theo, who was our ring bearer, were receiving some last minute instructions from Lucy.

“Auntie E!” Theo exclaimed when he saw me. Denise caught hold of his hand before he took off at full speed for me.

“Hey mister.” I said squatting down so I was eye level with him.

“Wow.” He said softly. “You look very pretty.” He lisped with a smile. My heart melted once again.

“Thank you. And you’re looking very handsome in your suit.” He puffed up his chest, standing tall, an ear to ear smile gracing his face.

“Thank you.”

“You ready to stand with Uncle Niall and guard our rings until we need them?”

“All ready. I been practicing my tough face.” I couldn’t help but giggle when he showed me his best intimidating face.

“That’s perfect. Nobody will mess with you.” He smiled and shook his head in agreement.

“All ready?” Lucy asked with a calming smile as I stood back up.

“Never been more ready for something in my life.” I smiled.

“Wonderful.” She walked up to the door and pushed it open before stepping out onto the main landing and nodding at Lux.

“Don’t let me trip.” I whispered to mum as we walked through the door behind everyone.

“I’ll do my best. Remember to breathe, yeah?” I nodded and took a breath, blinking back more tears as we heard the door to the main estate building click shut behind us. Lucy hurried to catch up to Lux so she could lead us down the path toward the pavilion where our ceremony was to be held. 

As we neared the bottom of the ramp, she paused and turned to face us. From our rehearsal yesterday, I knew to stay put until Lucy gave me the signal. Sure Niall had already seen me, but this was also a special moment for us and I had every intention of staying out of view until Lou had made it to her spot on the small platform at the end of the aisle. Even though we were a fair distance away, I could hear the sounds of This Town being played, courtesy of Jake and Conor.

It had been a no brainer when asked what song or piece of music I’d like to walk down the aisle to. This Town was the song that helped us make the transition from platonic to romantic. Besides, neither of us were too set on the standard wedding traditions - including the traditional Irish church wedding. We’d been a bit nervous about telling his parents and mum that we wanted a small, intimate, outdoor wedding rather than the traditional Irish church wedding. And we were fairly certain our mum’s were hoping we’d plan that kind of wedding. It had been a very pleasant surprise when they supported our wish for the ceremony that was about to take place.

“Okay, Lux. Are you ready?” Lucy asked softly. I saw her nod and Lucy gave her the thumbs up to start making her way down the aisle. A few moments later, Denise gently nudged Theo forward and he followed Lux down the aisle. Just before she followed her son down the aisle, Denise turned and gave me a smile and a wink.

“Breathe.” Lou whispered quickly, giving my hand a squeeze and following Denise. Mum gave my hand a squeezed as we took a couple of steps forward. When Jake and Conor paused their playing for a moment, Lucy gave us a nod. Mum looped my arm through hers, squeezing my hand as we took the last few steps to reach the center of the aisle.

Even though there were fifty of our closest friends and family watching me walk toward the love of my life, the only person I saw was Niall. About half way down down, I watched him quickly brush away tears before his blinding smile returned to his face. I smiled back at him as a few tears of my own escaped. As we walked past the first row of seats, he stepped down from the low platform that had been placed in front of the concrete railing at the end of the path that looked out toward the center of the grounds. Mum kissed my cheek and unwound my arm from hers before placing my hand in Niall’s.

“You take care of her. You hear?” she asked with a smile.

“Yes ma’am.” he said with a smile and a small laugh.

“Good. I love you both very much.” She reached up to kiss him on the cheek before stepping back and taking her seat next to Maura as we took the last few steps up to the small platform where our officiant, Elizabeth, was waiting. I turned to hand my bouquet to Denise before turning back and facing Niall.

“Family, friends, and loved ones. You have traveled from near and far to be here with Niall and Evelyn on this special day, to offer your love and support as they make a life long commitment to one another. You being here today allows them to being their married life together surrounded by the people that are the most important to them.

Niall and Evelyn thank you for joining them here today, and would like to ask for your blessing, encouragement, and lifelong support for their decision to be married.” We smiled at each other, and I gave his hands a gentle squeeze as Elizabeth paused for a brief moment.

“Marriage is perhaps the greatest and most challenging adventures of human relationships. Marriage is not created by a ceremony. Marriage is created by two people through love and patience, dedication and perseverance, communication, helping and supporting, and believing in one another. It is also created by through tenderness and laughter, learning to forgive, learning to appreciate each other’s differences, and by learning to make the important things matter and letting the rest go.” He released one of my hands, reaching up to brush away the couple of tears that had escaped. There was a smattering of soft chuckles when Greg reached around him to offer him his handkerchief to tease him, before offering it to me.

“Will you, Niall, take Evelyn to be your wedded wife?”

“I will.” his voice broke and my heart swan dived into my chest.

“Will you, Evelyn, take Niall to be your wedded husband?”

“I will.” I swear his eyes lit up brighter than the sun in that moment as we both tried not to bounce around in sheer joy even though there was still a bit left to go before we were pronounced husband and wife. We now had to get through our vows and I’m not sure either one of us were fully prepared for this moment on an emotional level.

“Two people in love do not live in isolation. Love between two people is a source of strength in which to find nourishment for each other and find nourishment from their community of family and friends. In turn, as part of this close knit community, you also have a responsibility to this couple. It is through your unwavering love, respect, and care that you can support their marriage and the new family they are creating today. Will you who are present here today, surround Niall and Evelyn in love, offering them the joys of your friendship, and supporting them in their marriage?”

“We will.” We smiled at each other, squeezing each other’s hands hearing the response from the most important people in our lives.

“Niall and Evelyn, you have chosen to write your own vows to one another. Before you say those vows, I ask you to remember that love -  which is rooted in faith, trust, and acceptance - will be the foundation for further deepening your relationship.”

We initially tired writing our vows together, and with the exception of a couple of sentences, we could never come up with something we both deemed worthy of our wedding day. And we tried multiple times. At one of our last meetings with Elizabeth to finalize the order of our ceremony, she asked how our vows were coming along, and we told her about our frustrations. She smiled knowingly at us and gave us her insight, which had been rather enlightening. By the end of our meeting, we decided we would write our vows to each other separately, agreeing to include the bits and pieces we did come up with together that we both liked. Thus ensuring we would have vows we were happy with.

“Niall, if you will please read your vows you have written to Evelyn.” Elizabeth said as she handed him the copy of his vows he had written.

“My brother used to tell me, more like tease me really, all the time that we were going to end up married one day. But I never believed him. Heck, I didn’t believe anyone that’s here right now when they said we’d end up together because we were already like an old married couple by the time I left for London.” I giggled wetly, as did several other people. “And then one day, I did believe it. I saw what everyone else saw. What I had been too blind to see until I was ready.” His voice broke and I hiccuped when he had to pause to get a handle on his emotions. I reached forward and took one of his hands in mine, knowing he needed to feel anchored.

“You are the true light in my life and I don’t know where I would be today without you. You have been by my side through every up and down and supported me even in the times I know I didn’t deserve it. You have loved me and accepted me for who I am, flaws and all. And because of that, you have taught me what it is to truly love and accept someone for who they are. You have taught me how to look beyond the surface to see the true meaning and beauty in something or someone. You constantly challenge me and push me to be the best version of me I can be, and push me to be the best man I can be. You keep me grounded and aren’t afraid to call me out when I need to be.” He paused for a moment again and I squeezed his hand.

“You, my darlin Evie, are the love of my life and I am so honored and humbled that you chose me and said yes to being my partner in crime for life. I promise to always be there for you, through sickness and health, and through every up and down that life will throw our way. I promise to laugh with you when you’re happy and cry with you when you’re sad, and support you completely as you chase after your dreams. I promise to challenge you as you challenge me, and be truthful with you just as you are with me - even when I know the truth may sting. I promise to love you more each day than I did the last, and I promise to fill our home with unconditional love and to not go to bed angry. I promise to always strive to be the best version of me I can be. And most importantly, I promise to love you, honor you, and respect you for who you are in this moment, and who you will become in the years ahead. I promise to be yours, and only yours, for the rest of our lives.” I hiccuped softly again and sniffled while trying to stem the flow of tears.

“Evelyn, if you will please read your vows you have written to Niall.” I took a deep breath as Elizabeth handed me the copy of my vows.

“If anyone told me at four years old when we first met that we would one day be married, I guarantee I looked at them like they were a three headed dog.” He choked out a laugh as everyone else chuckled along with him. “Even as we got older and our friends told me the same thing they told you, I still looked at them like they’d lost their minds. Until one day it all made sense, and the whole picture became clear. Our picture became clear.” I paused for a moment to catch my breath, Niall squeezing my hand gently.

“You are the true sunshine in my life. You always make me smile even when I’m in my worst of moods. And you always manage to make me laugh, even when it’s not at the most appropriate time.” His cheeks flushed as everyone chuckled fondly. “You’ve helped me through my low points and celebrated my high points, and no matter how many times I wanted to give up on my dreams out of sheer frustration, you never let me. You always talked me down even if you were half a world away. I can’t even begin to imagine how different my life would be if we hadn’t moved in across the street from you, and it hadn’t been you by my side all these years.” I glanced up at him for a moment and saw a tear run down his cheek.

“You drive me mental most days,” he snorted softly but nodded knowingly. “But you, Niall James, are the love of my life, and I can’t thank my lucky stars enough that you chose to love me, and chose me to be your partner in crime for life. I promise to be there for you, through all the good times and the bad. I promise to be there for you in sickness and in health, to laugh with you in moments of pure joy, and cry with you in moments of sadness. I promise to challenge you as you challenge me, and be truthful with you just as you are with me - even when I know the truth may sting. I promise to always support you in your endeavors just as you have always supported me. I promise to fill our lives and our home with unconditional love, to love you more than I did the day before, and to not go to bed angry. But the most important promise I can make to you today, is that I promise to love you, honor you, and respect you for the person you are right now, in this moment, and the person you will become years from now. I promise to be yours, and only yours, for the rest of our lives.” He gave my hand a firm squeeze as we both hiccuped in unison, causing us and our guests to dissolve into a brief round of giggles. Elizabeth took the copies of our vows from us and tucked them neatly into the small folder she was holding so they wouldn’t be lost.

“May I have the rings please?” Elizabeth asked as she set her folder down on the small table standing beside her. We watched as Theo stepped around Niall to stand between us, holding up the small box he’d been holding. Elizabeth crouched down and gently opened the box, taking out our wedding rings, and whispering “excellent work” to Theo. He beamed at us as we gave him a thumbs up and big smiles. He carefully closed the box and turned walk back and take his place behind Niall, next to Greg.

“The ring is a symbol of the unbroken circle of love. Love freely given has no beginning and knows no bounds or no ends. May these rings always remind you of the vows you have taken and written for one another. Niall and Evelyn, take these rings and place them on each other’s fingers.” Our hands were shaking so much with all the adrenaline that I’m surprised we managed to get each other’s rings on each other’s fingers with dropping them.

“Please repeat together after me: with this ring, I thee wed.”

“With this ring, I thee wed.” We squeezed each other’s hands tightly again as face splitting smiles graced our faces.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Niall, you may kiss your bride.”

“Finally.” I heard him exclaim softly before he pulled me into him and pecking several giggly kisses to my lips, before kissing me fully for a long moment.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Niall and Evelyn Horan.” We turned to face our guests who had all stood up from their seats and were clapping and cheering. After taking my bouquet from Denise, we began making our way back up the aisle, stealing kisses along the way and giggling like a couple of teenagers.

[danisnotofire]

howdy!! i'm a writer too and i'm searching for some sweet fellow-writer-y advice: what tips do you use to make individual characters' dialogue unique? i'm editing a novel draft (barely lol) and i always love finding out what other people do!

HELLO! i betcha didn’t think it’d take YEARS for me to answer this, but better late than never, right? right? 

anyway, here are some things i always think about when doing dialogue:

every single character has a specific way of talking. i don’t mean accent or dialect or lisp or whatever. those things should never be straight-written into dialogue. 

that means NO ‘theriously guyth my lithp ithnt that bad’ when writing with a lisp, no ‘wut the fuck’re yew tawkin’ abert’ when trying to convey an accent. 

you could try something like, “what the fuck are you talking about?” she asked in a slow and heavy texas drawl.  

similarly, stutters aren’t usually “i t-t-thought that we’d b-be able to t-talk?”. they’re easier to read and a lot more effective when written something more like, “i thought that- i thought maybe we could talk?” 

but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a character sound different just based on how they speak. think syntax. think speaking patterns. do they speak in run-on sentences? do they stutter? do they go back on what they say halfway through a sentence? are they an ‘um’ or an ‘uh’ type? what words do two different characters use to say the same thing? 

“Hey, so, I was walking down the street the other day and I caught sight of you but I wasn’t sure if it was you so I didn’t say anything ‘cause that would’ve been so weird if it wasn’t, but did you happen to be walking by that 7/11 last night?” vs “Hey, were you at 7/11 last night? I think I saw you, but I wasn’t sure.” 

you probably got a more bright/excited/rambly energy from the first one right? that’s run-ons. asking questions that they don’t wait to hear an answer for. repeating themselves a little bit. The second one isn’t bad, it’s just a different type of character. probably a little more calm. 

learn your dialogue grammar. here’s a handy post about it. your dialogue sounds INFINITELY better right off the bat if your reading isn’t getting stuck on glaring irregularities. in my creative writing class last semester, my prof literally had us hand-copy a page of dialogue from a short story so we could get them down. dialogue rules are like mis-built stairs– the second that something isn’t exactly to standard, it’s going to be brutally obvious. 

relatedly, you’re allowed to use words that aren’t ‘said’. But use them sparingly. If you do use them, shake it up by throwing in an action. Even in scenes where you need to use synonyms for said, you can often replace them with actions that convey the same emotion. 

“Fuck you.” She slammed the kitchen cabinet, then whirled around to face him. “I want you to leave.” 

“Of course.” He swiped his sleeve across his nose, ignoring the coffin that sat two feet away. “I’m sorry.” 

word choice. the coolest thing about writing dialogue is that it’s not 100% how we speak in real life. you’re a writer, you lie. you want the reader to be fooled into thinking real people talk exactly like this, but you have the added advantage of knowing exactly how the conversation gets to play out. why did that character use that specific word? why did they phrase it like that? were they foreshadowing this huge event in a line they said off-handedly in chapter 2? yes! you get to be in control of that! people’s words in written dialogue can be chosen so much more carefully than they necessarily are in real life, because you as the author know the story. you can have them imply or foreshadow or reference or insinuate anything. have fun with that power, because it’s awesome! 

going off that, what aren’t they saying? think about what your characters are trying to get across. think about what they’re too afraid to say out loud. think about things they want to convey without actually physically saying them. so much can be said by what isn’t said. 

i wrote a short story once that focused on hallucinations and what they were telling the protagonist. the whole point of it was that, at the end, she looked at something that she expected to talk to her, but it didn’t say a word. and that spoke volumes. 

take dialogue inspiration from everything around you! one of my writing profs told me dialogue was one of my strongest points as a writer, and he thought it had something to do with my theatre experience [which makes sense! scripts are 99.999% dialogue!!!!] i went through a phase when i was younger where i would transcribe every conversation i had in my head into words, just to think about how it would look as text. most of all, practice it. dialogue is just another writing skill. it’s only gonna get better if you, y’know, do it. 

the bright side of that is that you do dialogue every day. you see it in movies and musicals and tv shows and in overheard conversations on the train or in the coffee shop. it’s everywhere. it’s how we communicate! talking/communicating is how we get our gossip and our information and our diagnoses and our education! it pushes our lives along! it’s amazing, and getting to control every aspect of those inherently human interactions is one of my favorite parts of writing. 

of course, dialogue is a fluid thing. people have been experimenting with it since writing was invented. because there are an infinite amount of ways to hold a conversation, and an infinite amount of ways to interact with each other, there isn’t one single correct way to do dialogue. 

of course, if you’re writing a standard novel or fic or piece or whatever, then  it’s best to stick to the rules. but if you wanna try something new, go for it! i love experimenting with style and how that contributes to a story. faulkner had some fun with dialogue in the sound and the fury (i’m thinkin chapter 2 with quentin, especially his conversations with his father), where the stylistic blurriness of the conversation said a whole lot about quentin’s state of mind. there’s also some fun dialogue choices in nicole krauss’ the history of love, where she doesn’t always do the standard new-speaker-new-paragraph thing, which adds something to the story as well. 

there’s so much you can do with it to make it come alive and make your characters sound unique. i hope these helped, because they’re kinda what i base everything on myself!!