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#this was sitting in my drafts fluttering into the walls like a caged bird
amygdalae · 5 years
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Brambles and thistles aren’t evil! They just pointy
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vanaera · 6 years
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The First Dip
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Synopsis | All of this is too new for Jungkook - realizing he’s in love with his bestfriend, trying his best to impress a lady, manning up to do the first move - everything is too new and he’s still clueless around these things but he still tries his best.
Genre | Fluff and a very small pinch of angst (football!jk + childhood friend!you)
Words | 3,286
A/N | Okay I can’t get football!jk out of my head so here I go - another installment of this drabble series!
Read more of football!jk drabbles in The Prince and His Rose
     There’s something wrong along the lines. Something aberrant and definitely odd that emphasizes itself in one giant "What the hell" no matter how many times Jungkook adjusts his reading glasses.
    Otor-nim Y/N: Hey can you check this out? What do you think? (8:46 P.M.)
     Yeah, right, Jungkook will always check it out. However the minute he glanced over the text block you sent on Messenger ten minutes ago, Jungkook still doesn’t know why he feels disturbed at the same time giddy-happy. He settles for disturbed. He’ll be forever on his toes when he’s around you.
“Your eyes that held stars, every swirl of the inky black that promised another galaxy waiting to be found.”
     Okay, sounds good but also weird. You have never delved into romantic poetries, as far as he knows, and this is definitely out of his comfort zone too. Jungkook scrolls down, losing himself in sentences you painted with love too surreal until his eyes drink the last words of your prose.
“You make me want to see you even in my dreams.”
“ You’re a world I will forever would want to be lost in.”
     Jungkook fixes his glasses that were slipping on his nose as he strokes your words in ink across the pages you will never know about. At least not yet, he thinks, licking his lips as he finishes the line with a dot and a quotation mark along with your name and today’s date. He smiles wide at the page now marked with another art of yours along with his own little illustration of star-filled eyes and a galaxy boy holding the heart of his muse.  He flips the pages to dwell on the few papers yet to be graced by words he wished was about you and him. You haven’t published anything yet in print but this black little notebook of his might be the first ever collection of your poems and prose. He chuckles, his chest rumbling with songs of the birds in his chest. Just before he could dwell again on the lines that had his heart swelling with affection, he hears a “ding!” that calls him back to his original purpose.
Otor-nim Y/N: What do you think of my drafts? (8:48 P.M.)
     Oh right, he’s supposed to give a feedback. He unknowingly grins, his fingers dancing along the keyboard.
Star Kook: It’s good! No need to edit anything, it doesn’t sound cringey. Just pure admiration and romance. (8:49 P.M.)
     Should he add more? There’s no harm asking right?
Star Kook: It looks like you’ve been eyeing a new inspiration lately huh? Who’s the lucky guy ;) (8:50 P.M.)
Otor-nim Y/N: Some eyecandy I’ve been staring at lately. I just imagined what having a handsome guy fawn over you felt like and I wrote that. There’s no harm daydreaming anyway and the fact that it didn’t sound like just me ‘daydreaming’ based on your feedback, I’m happy with it. Thanks Kookie! (8:50 P.M.)
     Jungkook freezes. Eyecandy? You just saw where? When?  You don’t spend a lot of time with guys other than him - wait. His forehead furrows as he grabs his phone to view his self camera. He doesn’t look that bad, right? Some people have told him he’s cute, so maybe it’s about him. Damn it, his cheeks are already reddening with the thought.
     But then again, you’re a wonderful girl yourself and you have a couple of people orbiting around you and your ideas. He may think of you as his only rose in his garden of you and him but maybe you can’t even see him - just a tiny bud that’s taking too long to bloom - in the fields of flowers you probably collect from everyone that have adored you. The red notification on the name of his med student friend drives him to click it and remember why he’s even trying at all.
Nurse Doc Jimin: Hey, just read your message yesterday about you being emo again on your “unrequited love.” As I have numerously told you before (and I won’t stop telling you this to your blockhead self), you won’t know unless you tell her. So for you to tell her, you don’t have to bombard her with unrestrained feelings. Just up your game and make her notice it little by little. You’ve been toeing the testing waters far too long; try to man up and take a fucking dip, man. (8:53 P.M.)
//
     It’s already one o’clock and he’s starving and you’re still stuck in class. Jungkook paces back and forth in front of the lecture hall, his bag strapped across his chest felt too heavy so he puts it on the chair he abandoned ten minutes ago. He doesn’t want to sit, feeling he will just get too jittery again, and so he sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. He checks his watch - twelve forty-five - okay maybe, he’s just being really impatient, but still your Physics class is taking too long. Jimin already told him in annoyance he could just head out and buy something after he messaged him non-stop about waiting for you too long and that you’re still not done yet with gravitational forces and distances.
Nurse Doc Jimin: Well, you could just text her and tell her to meet you in that café (12:47 PM)
     Jungkook snickers; he still cares for his sappy ass no matter how much he liked annoying him. But he knows with his much-appreciated advice or not, he would shut down such thought with a stubborn "Nope, I’m gonna wait for her.”
     He can’t bring himself to just get up and leave when he’s already waited thirty minutes for you. His effort will go down the drain, and it was well-established between you two even back in grade school that you both have to eat your meals together. He even remembers the pinky promise your seven-year-old chubby fingers sealed along with his own pinky. “No one eats first, no one leaves the other, okay?”
     It was silly at first, but after knowing how you hate eating alone when you’re so used with warmth and hearty meals shared within close-knitted families like yours and his, he made it a point to fulfill his end of the promise whenever your schedules aligned or can be bended in some cases. He even got to the point he rudely nudged Jongin away last year just to get to the seat across yours in the cafeteria when he noticed the university’s top ballet dancer was headed to your direction. He knows he was being mean and irrational, but in his defense, that spot was his to begin with and he refuses to see another guy seated across you in tables for two other than him… well, your dad and brother are excluded from this ridiculous setting he made.
     He just likes to see you talk a storm about another idea you got while eating, delving in things you love, bright eyes and glowing smile directed at nothing but him that the rest of the world seemed like only giant backdrops for him and you. He’s not ready to tell you that yet, so he usually tries to quell the fluttering of bird wings in his rib cage by teasing and playfully annoying you just to temporarily soften the intensity of the songs the birds in his chest sings whenever you’re near.
     Just like now, he could already feel his heart picking up pace when he heard the student’s faint chuckles and chortles getting clearer by the second behind the door. He immediately shrugs off his jacket and shoves it in his bag just so he can stand up and lean on the wall with his elbow looking all suave. It wasn’t really that cold and Seokjin passed by him earlier and said his thin shirt emphasizes the muscles he was working on lately (that you still haven’t noticed, he bitterly thinks). Taehyung remarked after taking a shower from their morning practice that his styled hair looking slightly wet made him look cooler and dare he say, hot. He checked the mirror a thousand times today (a first time ever in his life) and he checks his self camera now for one last time, and yes, he thinks he looks fantastic and so eyecandy.
     The door bursts open and students flock the hallway. Jungkook waved at some of his acquaintances; he also noticed some girls who glanced his way a little longer than necessary and he smiles wider because of the attention. He thinks it’s kind of normal for other students to stare at their university’s star football player whom they saw on printed tarpaulins in school gates, sometimes on television when autumn comes along with the annual university championships. But for today, he wants to be vain a little bit just for a confidence boost and so he thinks, “Maybe I do really look good today,” as he fixes his pose.
     By the time the crowd was thinning a little, Jungkook hears the tinkle of your laughter and he tries to keep himself from grinning too much while setting his elbow firmer against the wall with his other hand settled on his waist. He may or may have not also flexed his biceps for good measure.
     “Yeah and he looked so cute I wanna squeeze his cheeks and just he’s soo eyecandy I swear-“
     Instead of seeing you getting flustered seeing him looking like a snack (like he thinks he is), Jungkook nearly falls back when your head collided with his chest, his arms already wounding around yours to keep you from tumbling. Your hands instantly found purchase on his biceps and he could feel the tender curve of your chest against his abdomen and shit, Jungkook thinks the birds in his chest may start singing so he immediately pries you off to hold you by your hands, an arms-length safe away from his frantic heart, so you could stand on your feet.
     Jungkook’s cheeks heat up the minute you raise your head slowly to meet his eyes, your warmth radiating in his arms as if he was literally holding the sun, his sun. He releases his hold on your hands so fast as if he was burnt. Hands ruffling his hair he spent so much time styling, he breaks the silence, “Hey are you okay?”
     “I’m fine, I’m fine,” you smooth out your skirt and Jungkook really feels the air was knocked out of him along with his confidence. The words to cooly invite you to lunch out with him now dying in his throat when you look so cute in a rose colored knitted sweater and red skirt. You look like a fucking fairy and shit, just so eyecandy. This is too much for his poor heart.
     “Why the hell are you standing so near the door and doing this?” Jungkook looks at you copying his “eyecandy pose”, hand on your waist, elbow propped against the wall. You wear a frown but Jungkook will always recognize the teasing glint in your eyes along with your signature raised brows. Fuck, you’ll never gonna let him off the hook.
     He opts to grab his bag and yell “Nevermind, I’ve been starving already waiting for you,” as he walks away so fast with his ears burning in embarrassment. You called for him to wait for you as you speedwalk to catch up to his long strides and Jungkook laughs just to hide the loud thumping of his heart.
     Opening the door for you like he usually does, Jungkook leads you two to your usual table in Mark’s, the burger place you both frequent whenever one of you was feeling generous to treat the other with a fat wallet. Before you grab your seat, Jungkook zooms to your side to pull your chair for you and now he can see you looking funny at him. This is too strange for him too - doing the first move when he’s used to let you take initiative, him acting like a total gentleman when he’s been such a teasing, annoying ass to you for years – he’s literally not acting like his usual self. But with you muttering "What's gotten into you?", looking a little shaken with a telltale blush on your cheeks, Jungkook feels this kind of weird is something he’ll avidly do everyday just so he can see you grace that soft smile that always knocks out his heart.
     Your order arrived a couple of minutes ago but you keep your hands laced together as you talk to him about a ballad you’re planning to write while waiting for his food.
    “I mean I haven’t experienced love, and the last time I wrote about a romance story was when I was a kid –“
     “The Prince and His Rose,” Jungkook supplies and you nod.
     “Yeah, but today I finally thought of fully dive in the romance genre,“ you eyed Jungkook and you both said aloud, ”the genre - I - you - always avoid like a plague - "
     You sigh, “and just practice how well I can deliver things that I haven’t felt yet. It’s not like I’ll be able to feel everything in this world right now but I think it would be nice to put yourselves in other’s shoes and think about how will such things really feel, right?”
     “It may also be a nice training to be more empathic with your readers,” Jungkook smiles. “Wow, author-nim, you’re really going to the next level, huh,” he smirks and you swat his shoulder to which he cackled.
     His food finally arrives and you start to unwrap your meal. “Anyway, I told you that because there’s a favor I need to ask from you.”
     Jungkook bites his burger and motions you to continue.
     “Can you come to my dorm tonight and help me with the drafts?”
     Jungkook sputters, “What, wait what, you want me to?” He has never been invited by any girl before in their rooms and the last time he agreed to you to do so was when you're both 7-year-olds. It's totally different now, especially when his heart is treading on foreign waters you shouldn't know about yet anytime soon.
    You set your food down before you grab his hands between your tiny ones. “Please, just tonight. My roommate will go back home today and I just need someone to give me advice face to face with the things I’ll write and sorry I know it must inconvenience you a lot but I just hate being alone for tonight and I promise-”
    “Okay, okay, I’ll go.” Jungkook feels excitement and anxiety bubble in his diaphragm, but he hides it with a sigh and a downcast of his eyes to look as if he’s really burdened. He can’t really say no to you especially if he’s free for the whole night and here you are taking the words from his mouth just so he can be close to you. He keeps his dismayed forte, enjoying the way you try your puppy eyes that was effective on tugging the strings of his conscience back when you’re young. It still works today though the effect was centered on the soft muscle of his heart and a little bit on his brain now. God, he’s so whipped.
     “What were you promising again?”
     You sit upright and do the pledge pose you always made fun of because of him in grade school. “I’ll help you with the write ups you have to do because you’re falling behind the lit class due to the games.”
     “Wow, you just have to state my negligence so nonchalantly in public.”
     You make kissy faces at him. “What can I say? Perks of being a bestfriend.”
//
    Later that night, Jungkook and you surround yourself in thousands of papers and words, pens lining and sighing with ink and letters of longing for some lover you never had. Jungkook doesn’t know why you needed him by your side in the first place when you're doing more than okay with your lines. He feels bad when he knows he can’t really help you out without giving away too much of the musings of his heart you don’t need to hear yet so he just suggests things you can tweak like “instead of blazing, write ‘scorching’, it has more feel to it,” or “you can add this to the fourth stanza.”
     It wasn’t until you stood up to make some dinner that your phone rang with a new text message when Jungkook knew why you actually needed him. Another declined manuscript, failed deadlines - Of course you wouldn’t say it aloud to him, but he knows with your sudden workaholic tendency tonight, you’ve been escaping the reality, seeking comfort in your art and maybe in his presence. He doesn’t say anything and just meets your gaze across your counter to see you huffing about making him some french toast with a giggle. You may hide your disappointment in masked happiness so well, but the way your smile won't reach to a full curve will never be ignored by his eyes. Minute details may be surpassed with naked eyes, but after spending years with you playing hide and seek with him between the lines, he already knew the paths and directions your intentions and feelings will usually go.
     After finishing dinner and you deciding not to divulge anything, Jungkook chooses to pull your blanket from your closet and drape it over your heads. The worn galaxies in its star printed fabric blankets you in reassuring comfort, a sanctuary you both found constellations back in high school whenever it just feels too good to leave everything behind. It will always be the closest space you could ever get while living in a suffocating world. 
     The softness of the cloth and the warmth of his arm he caressed your shoulders lulled your breathing to a noiseless slumber, head slumping against his shoulder. It’s far from peaceful when your face is scrunched but Jungkook thinks it’s better than seeing you suffer sleepless nights that have been getting worse when you’re stressed these days.
     Jungkook picks up your limp form and carries you to your bedroom, lithe fingers tucking you under the sheets. With you asleep, he lets the birds in his heart sing in tremendous chorus as he presses a kiss on your forehead that automatically smoothened the tension your brows were holding.
     He grabs the papers you both trailed on and arranges them on your desk when your small voice halts his movements.
    "I'm feeling sad but here you are looking so..."
     "What?"
     “… not my fault you looked so eye candy earlier.”
     It may be a wrong time but Jungkook can’t help but drop a little something when he knows you have a bad habit of blurting things you keep to yourself when you’re asleep. Back then, he used to poke fun at your weird habit but now when everything has changed, he will still tease you about that but he intends to find hope for the thorns of his anxiety poking his heart.
    “Whose fault is it?”
    “…Jeon Jungkook’s.”
     That near-midnight, Jungkook escapes through your window when your RA made her rounds on your floor. He may have almost fallen on his bum but he thinks all his efforts for today are all worth it. He lays on his bed, the birds on his chest singing a ballad he never heard of before.
Epliogue
"So I heard you said I was so eyecandy huh?"
"When was that?!"
"I'm not gonna tell~"
"Jeon Jungkook, come back here!"
All Rights Reserved © Vanaera. Reposts, modifications, and translations of content are not allowed without direct permission.
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Mockingjay Manor - Ch 4
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Chapter One /// Chapter Two /// Chapter Three
Last week, you voted 21 to 13 for Katniss and Peeta to risk their friends’ ridicule and tell them about the creepy unexplained noises they heard while exploring. This week, our delightful friend @peetamymuse is continuing the adventure. What happens next in Mockingjay Manor? Let’s find out...
A word of warning to our sensitive readers, the creep factor is steadily climbing in this story. For now, we’re still firmly in the T category, but that could change. Caveat emptor...
As always, you have 48 hours to vote (in the comments or reblogs, NOT in the tags!), until Noon EDT on Thursday, September 21st.
"What?" Johanna asks. "Did you two hear a spooky noise? See someone floating around in a white sheet?"
She holds her arms up and makes ghostly moaning sounds. “I’m coming for you.” Outside, the thunder and lightning punctuate her words. With her dark hair and sharp features, Johanna looks especially witchy in the flickering light.
​"We heard bird noises," Peeta says. "And something that sounded like knocking."
"And it couldn't have been Finnick," I add. "He was too far away."
Finnick and Johanna share a look and something passes between them that I don't catch.  There is a long pause and then, the two of them burst out laughing.
"You heard birds?" Johanna asks, still laughing. "That's what has you two so big-eyed and shaky? Or are you just trying to freak us out?"
"Look," Finnick says. "I'm as big a fan of Hitchcock movies as anyone, but it's going to take more than birds if you're trying to scare us."
I wrap my arms around myself and glare at the two of them. "We did hear something...and we're not shaking."
Peeta steps closer to me and rubs his warm hand up and down my arm. I'd be grateful, but he's almost smiling, now. "Maybe they're right. Maybe we did overreact a little."
I turn my glare on him as well. "We did not overreact. There's something going on in the east wing." I pull away from him and head back the way we came. Part of me knows that this is a little irrational, but something about this house has me anxious and on edge. I need to find out what it is and get out of here before things get worse.
I can hear Peeta struggling to catch up with me. I've always walked fast and he's never been the most graceful person.
"Katniss, slow down," he calls. "We don't need to get lost in this place. It might be dangerous—"
He is cut off by the combined sounds of what sounds like even more chattering birds and swift, rhythmic pounding.
"What the hell is that?" Finnick says, coming up behind Peeta with Johanna in the rear.
"That's what we heard," I say, feeling vindicated. The pounding sounds again—three hard knocks and then silence.
"That's why you don't run off on your own, stupid," Jo says, then sighs. "I guess it's time for me to earn a little of that money you guys are going to get. I hope you to remember this, Katniss."
She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a switchblade. The silver of the blade gleams white in the pale light as she unfolds it.
Finnick breaks into his golden boy smile. " I knew there was a reason I keep you around, Jo."
"I thought it was because of my amazing body," she says with a wink. Finnick just laughs.
Peeta and I look at each other and Peeta just shakes his head. The four of us have been friends for a while, but Johanna and Finnick have always had a weird dynamic. Finnick loves his girlfriend, Annie, but he and Johanna flirt like mad.
Johanna leads the way into the master bedroom. There must be a draft in here, because the white sheets on the bed and furniture flutter sporadically, kicking dust up into the air and making us all cough. I pull the neck of my shirt up over my mouth. The others do the same and I couldn't be happier that I turned down Peeta's suggestion to test out the bed.
We pass into the abandoned nursery. The faded pictures of birds seem more ominous now, staring out at us, ready to strike with sharp, angry beaks.
"I wonder if the birds are in the walls. That happened once back home,” Finnick speculates. “Squirrels started living in the walls and all we heard was scratching for a week before my mother called pest control. It was expensive to get them out, too."
Johanna rolls her eyes. "Okay, Bob Vila, then tell us what do we do next."
Finnick puts his ear to one of the walls and knocks lightly down it. Something inside the wall clicks and a small crack opens in the wall, revealing a door.
"That isn't supposed to be there," I say, pulling out the layout of the house. There is nothing off this bedroom, at least on paper. I walk over to the door and, with a quick twist, pull it open. Inside is a flight of steep stairs leading upward. The air smells damp,  with a tinge of rot and mold.
I look at the others. "I don't think we can stop now. Let's go up."
I'm starting up the first step when Johanna pulls me back. "I'm the one with a weapon. I'll go first." Her words are brave, but there is a tremor in her voice.
She starts up in front of me. The rickety wooden steps creak beneath my shoes. There isn't any rail and so I have to grope my way through the cobwebs to grasp the exposed studs. We've only got up about five steps when the door below us starts to creak closed.
"It's a draft," Peeta says. "I felt it the first time we came in the nursery. "I'll go wedge something in the door to keep it open."
"We'll wait for you," I say and we stop on the dank stairs.
Peeta makes a lot of noise pulling a chair into the doorway. We all aim our cellphones at him so he can finish and make his way back.
After two minutes of shining it down for Peeta, Finnick's phone dims. "Did I mention I was on six per cent?" Finnick huffs a laugh, but not even Johanna joins him. After another minute, his phone goes completely out and there are only three lights between us and total darkness. I check my own phone—43 per cent.
There's nothing to do but go on. The stench of dirt and stagnant water grows stronger the farther up we go and so does the sound of the birds until every second is filled with avian screeching and I’m waiting for something to come flying out at me. I strain my eyes looking up into the narrow space over the stairs.
We make our way forward, grasping through the darkness, until we reach the top where we find a gaping hole of rotting wood where a door used to be. We step through it into an attic.
The attic stretches the whole length of the house. Part of the roof has caved in and is open to the sky. The storm is starting to clear and the full moon has finally come out, giving us a little extra light.
At one time, the attic might have been a child's secret playroom. Fragmented toys clutter the floor and molding posters hang from the wall. Among the scattered boxes and paintings and ancient toy trains are nests of birds, dozens of them, all different, all strange. Some sit in open cages, others nest on the exposed eaves. They don’t scatter when we come into view, but angle shiny, interested eyes in our direction.
"Is it me, or are these birds huge?" Peeta asks.
I nod and lace my fingers with his. The largest are the size of vultures.
"Are these birds huge? Huge!" one of the birds echoes, making us all jump. It has a sleek, dark body with a vibrant blue crest, but isn't a pet parrot or some other bird I expect to talk.
Another bird, this one smaller with a pale gray body, pecks at the larger bird until it stops repeating Peeta's words. The bird looks so familiar, but I can't place it.
Other flying creatures, these ones with hair and teeth, also nest in some of the cages.
"Somebody had to set this place up," Peeta says. "These birds didn't just show up here. This looks too organized." He points off into one of the corners. Large plastic bags of bird seed sit piled on top of each other.
The knocking pounds out again, louder and closer. It sounds like it’s coming from somewhere deeper in the attic. "Somebody or something is definitely here," Finnick whispers.
"Okay," Johanna says. "Whatever it is, let’s go find it and evict its ass. Katniss and I will take this side of the attic. The guys take the other side.”
I nod. For once, I agree with Johanna. We start heading for the far end of the attic when Peeta pulls me back.
“Katniss, I’m not sure splitting up is a good idea. I’d feel a lot better if you and I stuck together,” he whispers.
What should I do? Johanna is my friend and I don’t want her to think I don’t trust her, but I can’t disagree that I always feel better when Peeta is nearby.
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frebbieheadcanons · 7 years
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Frebbie Wedding Day (Excluding reception).
This is a story in third person but switches between scenes (???) between Fred and Debbie. This is a rough draft, i havent edited yet. -Blossem12
The sun shone on Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, Fred Kleiser woke up to birds singing out his window. Today was the day.
The day he had been waiting four years for.
He was going to marry the love his life, Debbie Johnson, every time he thought about her his heart fluttered. He rose from his bed and checked his phone which had over twenty-five miss- calls. Almost all of them from family and friends who were ready for the wedding today. He showered and put on a mediocre outfit and head out the door to meet the wedding people at the Diner.
He walked in and Doris smiled,
"Today's the day Fred!" she said in a sing-song voice, "Everyone in town is coming to the wedding today." Fred's heart stopped, that was over 30 people,
"W-what." Fred started taking deep breaths, his brain was telling him to back out of the wedding, that he wasn't going to be able to it.
"Fred, you invited the whole town. Something about wanting everyone to see how pretty Debbie's gonna look." Doris smiled as she cleaned a glass. Fred took a deep breath, he had almost forgotten the most important thing about today.
Debbie.
This day was just about him and her, nothing could change that.
"Fred Kleiser?" Buster yelled from the entrance of the Diner. the man shot his head up and saw the plump man, he made his way over, "Alright good sir, we've got everything ready let's go."
The two men walked to the towne square and the wedding arch was glistening in the sunlight, Fred was getting butterflies in his stomach but instead of their usual anxious manner, they were happy. Fred almost couldn't believe this was actually happening.
---
Debbie was heading over to Nancy's house to get her makeup done and hair. When she arrived she knocked on the bright blue door and all her bridesmaids were in the room, Nancy was yet to be in her dress but all the other girls were already doing their makeup.
"Heya Nance!" Debbie said excitedly as Nancy let her in. In the corner of Debbie's eye, she could see Larry fixing his tux. He told Nancy goodbye and was then on his way to most likely meet with Fred or Phil.
"Alright, Deb. Makeup time!" she said practically dragging her to a chair she had set up in the living room. Debbie said quick hellos to people as she passed. She sat in the chair, and Nancy already had brushes in her hand.
"Okay, Nance. Not too much, we don't need a repeat of last valentines day."
"Deb. that was one time."
"You put blush on my chin."
"I thought it looked cute." Nancy shrugged and leaned closer, "So did Fred" Debbies' face went red at the mention of his name.
"I can't believe this day has come" Debbie exclaimed as Nancy put foundation on her face.
"No kidding and getting Punxsutawney Phil to officiate? That's like magic." Nancy laughed and Debbie chuckled along with her.
After about fifteen minutes, Nancy had the basics of Debbie's makeup done, all that was left was lipstick and eyeliner. Debbie wanted to put the dress on before that so it wouldn't stain. She put on the dress, black lace draped her shoulders which connected to a white sweetheart top, a red ribbon bordered the fitted skirt which turned to a more flowing dress at the ends. the bottom of the dress went from white and slowly turned to blue, the same blue from their marching band uniforms, red lace, and red roses framed the edge.
"Debbie." Nancy smiled, tears forming in her eyes, "You look beautiful." Debbie saw herself in the mirror and she almost starting crying herself.
"I'm gonna be Debbie Kleiser by the end of the night, " she said with the biggest smile.
---
"Fred!" Phil Connors yelled out to the soon to be a married man, "You ready?"
Fred turned  and saw the forecaster in the royal blue tuxedo that all of the groomsmen were wearing,
"Phil Connors! From Gooood Weather- yeah it doesn't work without Debbie here" Fred laughed as he walked towards the man who seemed to tower over him.
"The daytime high for today is this wedding my man." Phil laughed at his own weather humor, Fred just stood in confusion but with a smile.
"One hour from now, a new chapter of our life is gonna start," Fred said with tears in his eyes, Phil noticed the tears and gave him a hug.
"I would take you to your marriage-ee but I think that's bad luck,"  Phil smirked and looked down at the short man who was being dragged away considering the wedding was bound to start any minute.
---
The wedding was about to start and all the bridesmaids were lined up in order on the outdoor venue, Debbie was behind a tree where Fred couldn't see her. She was taking deep breaths trying not to get her dress dirty, Nancy gave her a thumbs up as she walked to her spot as Maid of Honor, Phil held both the ring box and a basket full of red and blue flowers in his arms. Debbie smiled at him as he was prepping to walk.
"This wedding has a 100% percent chance of being amazing," he smirked and left to walk down the aisle. Debbie laughed to herself and suddenly remembered where she was. She took a deep breath as the Punxsutawney marching band began playing the wedding march, and walked past the tree into view of everyone.
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Fred was about run behind the tree from his anxiety and yearning to see Debbie, Fred's nerves were calmed when he saw Phil walked down the aisle throwing flowers to each side. Rita, who was standing in the bridesmaid line was smiling at him as well.
Fred looked like he was about to fly off the non-existent walls. he was rolling back and forth on his feet twidling his hands, the large chord that started the wedding march hit and Fred almost screamed in joy. He was waiting when he eyes finally processed what he was seeing.
Debbie turned to walk down the aisle and Fred froze, his breath hitched.
He had never seen someone so beautiful in his entire life and he was going to marry her.
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"Phil asks you, Fred Kleiser, if you take  Debbie Johnson to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto her for as long as you both shall live?" Buster translated the brown groundhog sitting in a cage on the table behind them. Fred smiled as his eyes connected with Debbie's bright blue ones once more.
"I do." He said with most joy, anyone in the entire town of Punxsutawney had ever heard.
"And Phil asks you Debbie Johnson, if you take Fred Kleiser to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, to love and honor, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto him for as long as you both shall live?"
"Yes!" she giggled ecstatically, forgetting the 'I do' in the excitement. Fred laughed slightly, she was the most adorable thing in the world.
"Alright then! Punxsutawney Phil now pronounces you both Husband and Wife! He says you may kiss the bride!" Before Buster had finished translating Debbie had already grabbed her husband and kissed him.
"I'm Debbie Kleiser now!" She yelled with her arms up in the air and the entire crowd cheered, it was so loud that California could most likely hear their cheers.
Fred jumped in Debbie's arms and she carried out her newly pronounced husband out to the reception.        
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