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I'm getting really sick of people writing Billy's dialogue with the accent.
I don't mind if it's a few words that are really obvious, but writing the whole thing phonetically is just frustrating and hard to read. Obviously when he's thinking the words he's not thinking them spelled with a bloody Scottish accent, is he? Grr.
Today was very boring. I vaccuumed and watched some Buffy and cleaned the fish tank and took care of the puppy. And wrote two fics. That's pretty much it. With lots of arguing with my father over dinner, too. I had one of those days where I just couldn't wake up all day, I've been feeling groggy and weird and I don't know why.
Disclaimer: I don't know them.
Storytelling Domlijah, rated M
"Then his pants splash into the water, coz he's used the belt as an anchor, and he's slipping too much to get up," Elijah cackles. Dom rolls his eyes and shifts his leg forcing Elijah to lean into him. He rubs himself up against Elijah's back just to shut the bugger up.
"You didn't help, of course," says Dom. Elijah's blushing, and Billy's in stiches, beating his fist against the sticky bar table.
"Are you kidding? I was in a worse state than Bill," Elijah says, sneaking a hand behind him towards Dom's crotch. Billy doesn't hear Dom's gasp.
Liar Liar Domando, rated PG, inspired by a story told by Margaret Cho
The tears prickle at the back of my eyelids as they fall, soaking my eyelashes and tingling as they run down the bruise I can already feel forming on my cheek. The cold air rushes over the saltwater trails on my face, abd I know that if I open my eyes I'll see the trees and blue sky above, but I'm too busy right now trying to remember how exactly it was that I came to be in this position, what went wrong, and how I'm going to live with myself after this moment. It feels like one of those life-changing, desperate moments when the earth should just crack open and swallow me, only it doesn't because that would be just too convenient. I lift my head slightly just to let it fall.
"Don't be an asshole, Dommie, you're only going to hurt yourself doing that," says a familiar cool voice from beside me. I roll my head to the right and it takes me a moment to decide that, no, I wasn't imagining that and yes, I am brave enough to open my eyes. A painfully beautiful face swims into view, unfathomable brown eyes staring right into mine. My eyes sweep down Orlando's body, then back up to his face. He sighs.
"You didn't really think I'd leave, surely?"
I wasn't really expecting Orli's fist to come flying into my face not five minutes ago. We'd gone on a picnic, just me and him and Billy, while we had a few days together. A proper one, with a hired basket and itchy woollen blankets in ugly brown plaid, and Billy laughing about how properly gay the whole thing was. Orlando's eyes had flickered for a second when he'd said that. Of course I notice that now, looking back on it. If I'd noticed it then I probably wouldn't be in this mess. Then again, Orlando had clearly overreacted when I told him I loved him.
It wasn't even intended to reveal as much truth as it did. It slipped out, but I didn't make any effort to stop it, because the Fellowship says that sort of thing to each other all the time in spite of the fact that just over half of us were gayer than Mardi Gras. It comes to my attention once my back hits the grass that Orli's never really said it alone before, one-on-one, not to me anyway, and I think maybe it wasn't the wisest decision to make.
I guess the fact that I've actually been secretly lusting after him for a few years now must have crept up into my voice and betrayed me too. The only person who knew was Billy, which was why he left Orli and I alone on that damn cold windy hill to pick up a bottle of champagne or four from the bottle shop down the road. Now I can hear the bomb of a car he insists on keeping struggling up the road towards us, and make a move to sit up, but Orlando's hand on my arm prevents it.
"I love you, Orlando, y'know," quietly escaped my mouth. I wasn't even actually looking at him at the time, we were just leaning by the side of a tree, me barefoot on a root, enjoying the feeling of the wood beneath my feet and under my palm. The view ahead of us was impressive and typically New Zealand, with great rolling green plains and wild trees cropping up every few metres. Then I did turn to look at him and met his fist with the side of my mouth. I could feel it as though in slow motion, my lip splitting and my teeth aching, the way my feet slipped on the stupid tree root and my shoulders hit the soft ground first. The grass cushioned the fall of my head before tickling insistently at my ears as I lay there, assuming Orlando had left. So I was quite surprised to say the least when I opened my eyes and saw him there.
"You shouldn't say shit like that," he says to me quietly, still looking right at me but somehow not seeing my face at all. I can hear Billy's footsteps approach and then quickly retreat as he calls out something about getting another 12 pack of beers. Orlando ignores him, but I can't think of a more alluring thought than just running straight over to him now and seeking refuge in his quick wit and warm laugh. Instead, I resign myself to confronting the fact that one of my best friends probably now hated me.
"Well, I just meant--"
"You didn't mean it, that's the point." And right there one of the fuses in my brain shorted and all the lights went out, because why the hell wouldn't I mean it? Orlando was gorgeous, funny, friendly, graceful, larger-than-life and charming. Everybody loved him.
"Of course I meant--"
"Don't bullshit me, Dominic Monaghan. You can't possibly lo...well, you know." For the first time he avoids my eyes, shifting them towards the sky above us, and I get an inkling of what might just be comprehension. And a glimmer of definite hope.
"I thought you meant--"
"Coz you know, I'm so...I'm not real. You're the real one, Dom. You're brilliant," he says, then flushes. He's on his feet in one fluid movement and already heading back towards the blanket before I've managed to stumble awkwardly to my feet to follow.
"Wait, what? So you're saying that you don't absolutely hate me now? That you trying to break my face was just a love tap?" Which, in my defence, all sounded a lot less accusing in my head before I said it. He flumps onto the blanket and it curls up around him a bit. Scratches at his arm where it rests against the coarse fabric absently without bothering to move it.
"I don't like being lied to, bastard," says Orlando, but his tone is soft and unsure so I just laugh at him and throw myself on top of him. My smile must be infectious or something because soon his perfect white teeth beam up at me. I decide to forego being self-conscious about my uneven grin in order to get what I really want. So I kiss him instead.
"I'm not lying to you, asshole."
"I want it on record that I'm still not gay," he mumbles into my mouth. I raise an eyebrow at him and he chuckles. That is, he starts out by chuckling and winds up in a high-pitched giggle as I poke him in the ribs.
"What am I then?"
"A welcome aberration from the norm," he replies, gasping in a breath before pulling me back down to smash my lips against his.
My tongue's entwined with his and I'm just about to do my patented French kiss that makes all the boys swoon when Billy separates us forcibly. He ignores my moan of protest and dabs absently at my lip with a napkin. I send a joking glare at Orlando and he has the presence of mind to at least feel guilty about having punched me.
"I'm glad to see you're happy, but I really *do* want to spend some time with my bitches before I go back to Glasgow tomorrow," says Billy. He laughs warmly when Orlando takes offence and I pin his arms behind his back, allowing Orlando access for tickling. He grins at me for a second before going in for the kill, and even though I'm holding onto Billy I'm thinking about wiping that grin off Orli's face tonight.
Entered a new challenge through![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
visbot. Take a Flying Leap Challenge, the Link of the Day, so go check it out. Also, go check out House of Usher, because I said so.
Pics of the Day, a couple of Guy and some from the Aus Idol final. Yep.
Somebody buy me this CD!!!
This takes some explaining for those who didn't see the show. There's an Australian singer called John Farnham, who wrote a very famous song called "You're the Voice" (which Guy performed himself earlier in the season.) There's some lyrics in it that go:
How long can we look at each other
down the barrel of a gun?
with quite a long break between those lines. So they sang the first part and then stared at each other for about 5 seconds before the next line. It was sweet and funny and *adorable*.
That I can't explain.
Our big gay hosts all dolled up.
Awww.
How long can we look at each other?
Green Queen
I don't mind if it's a few words that are really obvious, but writing the whole thing phonetically is just frustrating and hard to read. Obviously when he's thinking the words he's not thinking them spelled with a bloody Scottish accent, is he? Grr.
Today was very boring. I vaccuumed and watched some Buffy and cleaned the fish tank and took care of the puppy. And wrote two fics. That's pretty much it. With lots of arguing with my father over dinner, too. I had one of those days where I just couldn't wake up all day, I've been feeling groggy and weird and I don't know why.
Disclaimer: I don't know them.
Storytelling Domlijah, rated M
"Then his pants splash into the water, coz he's used the belt as an anchor, and he's slipping too much to get up," Elijah cackles. Dom rolls his eyes and shifts his leg forcing Elijah to lean into him. He rubs himself up against Elijah's back just to shut the bugger up.
"You didn't help, of course," says Dom. Elijah's blushing, and Billy's in stiches, beating his fist against the sticky bar table.
"Are you kidding? I was in a worse state than Bill," Elijah says, sneaking a hand behind him towards Dom's crotch. Billy doesn't hear Dom's gasp.
Liar Liar Domando, rated PG, inspired by a story told by Margaret Cho
The tears prickle at the back of my eyelids as they fall, soaking my eyelashes and tingling as they run down the bruise I can already feel forming on my cheek. The cold air rushes over the saltwater trails on my face, abd I know that if I open my eyes I'll see the trees and blue sky above, but I'm too busy right now trying to remember how exactly it was that I came to be in this position, what went wrong, and how I'm going to live with myself after this moment. It feels like one of those life-changing, desperate moments when the earth should just crack open and swallow me, only it doesn't because that would be just too convenient. I lift my head slightly just to let it fall.
"Don't be an asshole, Dommie, you're only going to hurt yourself doing that," says a familiar cool voice from beside me. I roll my head to the right and it takes me a moment to decide that, no, I wasn't imagining that and yes, I am brave enough to open my eyes. A painfully beautiful face swims into view, unfathomable brown eyes staring right into mine. My eyes sweep down Orlando's body, then back up to his face. He sighs.
"You didn't really think I'd leave, surely?"
I wasn't really expecting Orli's fist to come flying into my face not five minutes ago. We'd gone on a picnic, just me and him and Billy, while we had a few days together. A proper one, with a hired basket and itchy woollen blankets in ugly brown plaid, and Billy laughing about how properly gay the whole thing was. Orlando's eyes had flickered for a second when he'd said that. Of course I notice that now, looking back on it. If I'd noticed it then I probably wouldn't be in this mess. Then again, Orlando had clearly overreacted when I told him I loved him.
It wasn't even intended to reveal as much truth as it did. It slipped out, but I didn't make any effort to stop it, because the Fellowship says that sort of thing to each other all the time in spite of the fact that just over half of us were gayer than Mardi Gras. It comes to my attention once my back hits the grass that Orli's never really said it alone before, one-on-one, not to me anyway, and I think maybe it wasn't the wisest decision to make.
I guess the fact that I've actually been secretly lusting after him for a few years now must have crept up into my voice and betrayed me too. The only person who knew was Billy, which was why he left Orli and I alone on that damn cold windy hill to pick up a bottle of champagne or four from the bottle shop down the road. Now I can hear the bomb of a car he insists on keeping struggling up the road towards us, and make a move to sit up, but Orlando's hand on my arm prevents it.
"I love you, Orlando, y'know," quietly escaped my mouth. I wasn't even actually looking at him at the time, we were just leaning by the side of a tree, me barefoot on a root, enjoying the feeling of the wood beneath my feet and under my palm. The view ahead of us was impressive and typically New Zealand, with great rolling green plains and wild trees cropping up every few metres. Then I did turn to look at him and met his fist with the side of my mouth. I could feel it as though in slow motion, my lip splitting and my teeth aching, the way my feet slipped on the stupid tree root and my shoulders hit the soft ground first. The grass cushioned the fall of my head before tickling insistently at my ears as I lay there, assuming Orlando had left. So I was quite surprised to say the least when I opened my eyes and saw him there.
"You shouldn't say shit like that," he says to me quietly, still looking right at me but somehow not seeing my face at all. I can hear Billy's footsteps approach and then quickly retreat as he calls out something about getting another 12 pack of beers. Orlando ignores him, but I can't think of a more alluring thought than just running straight over to him now and seeking refuge in his quick wit and warm laugh. Instead, I resign myself to confronting the fact that one of my best friends probably now hated me.
"Well, I just meant--"
"You didn't mean it, that's the point." And right there one of the fuses in my brain shorted and all the lights went out, because why the hell wouldn't I mean it? Orlando was gorgeous, funny, friendly, graceful, larger-than-life and charming. Everybody loved him.
"Of course I meant--"
"Don't bullshit me, Dominic Monaghan. You can't possibly lo...well, you know." For the first time he avoids my eyes, shifting them towards the sky above us, and I get an inkling of what might just be comprehension. And a glimmer of definite hope.
"I thought you meant--"
"Coz you know, I'm so...I'm not real. You're the real one, Dom. You're brilliant," he says, then flushes. He's on his feet in one fluid movement and already heading back towards the blanket before I've managed to stumble awkwardly to my feet to follow.
"Wait, what? So you're saying that you don't absolutely hate me now? That you trying to break my face was just a love tap?" Which, in my defence, all sounded a lot less accusing in my head before I said it. He flumps onto the blanket and it curls up around him a bit. Scratches at his arm where it rests against the coarse fabric absently without bothering to move it.
"I don't like being lied to, bastard," says Orlando, but his tone is soft and unsure so I just laugh at him and throw myself on top of him. My smile must be infectious or something because soon his perfect white teeth beam up at me. I decide to forego being self-conscious about my uneven grin in order to get what I really want. So I kiss him instead.
"I'm not lying to you, asshole."
"I want it on record that I'm still not gay," he mumbles into my mouth. I raise an eyebrow at him and he chuckles. That is, he starts out by chuckling and winds up in a high-pitched giggle as I poke him in the ribs.
"What am I then?"
"A welcome aberration from the norm," he replies, gasping in a breath before pulling me back down to smash my lips against his.
My tongue's entwined with his and I'm just about to do my patented French kiss that makes all the boys swoon when Billy separates us forcibly. He ignores my moan of protest and dabs absently at my lip with a napkin. I send a joking glare at Orlando and he has the presence of mind to at least feel guilty about having punched me.
"I'm glad to see you're happy, but I really *do* want to spend some time with my bitches before I go back to Glasgow tomorrow," says Billy. He laughs warmly when Orlando takes offence and I pin his arms behind his back, allowing Orlando access for tickling. He grins at me for a second before going in for the kill, and even though I'm holding onto Billy I'm thinking about wiping that grin off Orli's face tonight.
Entered a new challenge through
visbot. Take a Flying Leap Challenge, the Link of the Day, so go check it out. Also, go check out House of Usher, because I said so.Pics of the Day, a couple of Guy and some from the Aus Idol final. Yep.
Somebody buy me this CD!!!
This takes some explaining for those who didn't see the show. There's an Australian singer called John Farnham, who wrote a very famous song called "You're the Voice" (which Guy performed himself earlier in the season.) There's some lyrics in it that go:
How long can we look at each other
down the barrel of a gun?
with quite a long break between those lines. So they sang the first part and then stared at each other for about 5 seconds before the next line. It was sweet and funny and *adorable*.
That I can't explain.
Our big gay hosts all dolled up.
Awww.
How long can we look at each other?
Green Queen
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From:
no subject
My mum raves on about Guys album, she bought the album, and the single on the day they where released. My mum is a huge Guy fangirl. lol.
From:
no subject
I'm not as big a fangirl of him as Lord of the Rings or I'd have bought it too.
From:
no subject
yep. that is def. one of my biggest pet peeves.
From:
Hey Green Queen
Add me as a friend please!