#I’m grateful theatres are back

[molinaskies]

Just saw Sonic Movie 3.

This is a spoiler free, vibes only review:

LOVED IT. I have some objective, movie-making-perspective quirks about it, but it’s once again another love letter to this franchise. If you have the ability to see it, I hope you do!

Last thing I’ll say is to the group of girls sitting behind me who held my hands and cheered at our victory, if you happen to see this, you are my people 💞

[secondstar-acorn]

can’t think of anything to say other than it was everything I could have ever expected and wanted and hoped for. seeing them perform truly is an electric experience and I am so, so grateful I got to be there. I’ve never felt such overflowing joy and love in one room before and that truly is down to what a one-of-a-kind group Starkid is. I’m so happy and a little emotional that it’s over but like it’s sung in days of summer, “don’t wanna see you go but it’s not forever, not forever” ⭐️💜

[undertheorangetree]

Tantrum

Summary- Art’s girlfriend sucks at tennis. He helps her feel better.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Stanford era Art. Exhibitionism. Body worship. Cunnilingus. Wee bit of fingering. P in V sex. Riding. The fluffiest giggliest sex you've ever seen. Me not knowing a damn thing about tennis.

Author's Note- Hi idk if you noticed but i have Challengers brain rot rn specifically for Art Donaldson :// As a theatre kid I simply had no choice it was always gonna be him. Read the full fic on AO3.

When Art had looked up at her with big pleading eyes, all but begging her to allow him to teach her the basics of tennis, she was in no position to refuse. It had been sweet, how badly he wanted to share his passion with her, the kisses he had peppered across her neck and chest in order to entice her into it, and she couldn’t so much as imagine denying him. Forget the fact that she had never held a racket in her life, that her strengths had always been rooted in academia rather than athletics.  If allowing him to teach her would make him happy, she would do it.

Though not without complaint.

She lets out a frustrated grunt as the ball hits the net- again- before turning her head up to glare at Art when he barely manages to stifle his laugh. He smothers it immediately when he catches sight of her glower, hand coming up to rub at his mouth as if he can physically wipe away his smile and she feels her teeth grind together.

“You can’t laugh. You’re the one who wanted me to do this so you’re not allowed to make fun of me,” she complains, her voice half petulance half hurt and immediately his face morphs into something more apologetic.

“I’m sorry baby.” He makes his way closer but she simply rolls her eyes, turning her nose up when he reaches out to her. He takes it in stride. “I’m not laughing at you, you’re doing very well. It’s just funny to see you so frustrated.”

It’s her turn to laugh, though it is little more than a humourless bark. “I am not doing very well. I suck.”

He makes a sympathetic noise as he attempts to reach for her again. She allows it begrudgingly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as his hands close around her elbows, face dropping into her neck to press a kiss there. She thinks that he’s about to praise her further, try to coax her back into committing herself to the game, but he stays silent, continuing to lavish her with silent kisses.

She’s happy for the odd hour they decided to come here, the tennis court completely devoid of any other life. It’s a colder night than it should be for mid spring, the floodlights and moon the only two things to provide them with any light, and she’s grateful finals have chased everyone else away. She’s glad to have this time alone with him, despite her frustration. To feel like they are the only two people in the world.

“You’re just hitting the ball too hard,” he explains, face still half buried in her throat. “And you aren’t even attempting to aim. Putting everything you have behind the hit doesn’t make it a good one if you don’t know where you’re sending it. There’s more to tennis than just force, you have to be smart about it.”

She scoffs, reaching up to press her palm against his forehead and shove him away, ignoring the shit eating grin that’s made itself known on his face. “Just go over there and hit the damn ball. Before I leave you here by yourself.”

The grin doesn’t fade, his amusement more than clear, but he does as she asks, returning to his side of the court. She lets out another aggravated sigh as she returns to the position he had told her to wait in, knees bent as she waits for him to serve, realizing more and more that she prefers to watch him play tennis rather than do it with him. She finds far more joy watching him from the stands as he chases after the ball, sweat dripping from his curls and grunts echoing in her ears. Here, where she is the one chasing the ball like a damn dog and failing to send it sailing over the net when she does manage to catch it, there is no time to admire Art in his element.

She almost feels bad for her poor attitude, wishing she was less competitive so that she could simply enjoy this quality time with him, but every failure does nothing but enrage her further, sending her spiralling further into frustration.

Read the rest here :)

[fuckingmeteors]

I have tried to make a transcript of the Radio Adelaide interview! There are a few places where I'm not quite sure what they're saying (especially when they speak over each other), so if anyone is willing to take a look at it, I would gladly welcome corrections! (Also I hope the formatting isn't too shit. If it is, I apologize.)

[introduction]

Host/Interviewer:

I spoke with Dan and Phil, who are on their Terrible Influence tour at the moment. I think they’re in Sydney right now, even though I had to call them on the phone via England [laughter]. They’re gonna be on at the Adelaide Entertainment Centre next week, Monday the 16th of December. And these guys, they’re British Internet Youtube radio hosts, they’re critics of games, they’re book authors, Dan and Phil, they’re currently in Australia having their Terrible Influence tour which lands in Adelaide at the entertainment Centre next week and they’re attempting to “take back what the internet took from them”!

So, it’s allegedly a screamingly hilarious live stage show. I have no doubt that it is hilarious. They’re “older, gayer and Phil’s gone blonde” evidently, and nothing is off limits. Now I was brought to their, uh, to the attention of them by some younger folk, who asked me to ask them certain questions, throw some sort of slightly strange questions at them, and I haven’t got time to include all of those questions and also I had a call after the interview from one of the duo suggesting that “oh, you might get trolled if you ask a question like that and people misinterpret it”, because I was asking, uh… I believe they’ve become a couple, I’m not sure if they’ve gotten married, but they may have gotten married or they may just be, like, going steady, but they’re a terrific pair of comic lads, in the vein of Kenny Everett, sort of. They don’t have a TV show as such, they were both youtubers, which means that they had a little bit of youtube shows, and then they started guesting on each other’s show, and then they eventually started doing stuff together. Very interesting lads. And I just really want to play the interview now.

[interview starts playing]

Dan: And I’ve got a mullet now that I’m in Australia because apparently that’s what people do. (?) Australians have more fun and I wanted to appropriate a little bit of the culture while we’re here doing the show.

Phil: I think it’s more of a micro-mullet, Dan, though, you know, you haven’t gotten to full mullet, it’s more of a micro-mullet.

D: It’s a mullet without the T, it’s just a mull-è.

I: Mull-è hahaha, all right! Just with that sort of…

P: Yeah, without the T, yeah!

I: That sort of hard E at the end.

P: Yes.

I: How has your tour been going so far, gentlemen?

D: It’s been amazing to be in Australia, no offense, we loved having a great time in America, but we’re very happy to be in Australia. Although, I know it’s summer, why is it so hot? Nowhere on Earth should be this warm.

I: You haven’t reached Adelaide yet, have you?

D: No, God, don’t tell me it’s warmer!

I: Yes, Yes, we’re in the middle of a very dry, arid area, very isolated, a long way from anywhere, but there’s only about maybe thirty of forty tickets left at your gig here?

D: We’re happy for the people of Adelaide, they’re, you know, they’re out here, in that dry, arid desert, and there’s nothing to do but come to the Dan and Phil show, and we love them for that, they’re all making responsible financial decisions, so we’re very grateful for all the people that are coming to the show.

P: And if there’s forty people listening, come hang out with us, it’s gonna be a fun time!

D: Yeah, what else are you doing on that night?

P: We’re gonna be pumping the aircon out.

D: Yeah, just come to have somewhere cool to sit in the theatre, you know what I mean?

I: Are you collecting things from your hangouts that you’re gonna discuss at the next show? Like before a show, if people hang out with you, give you a piece of art, or a little letter, a note, something like that, do you then discuss it in front of the (?)

D: Oh, a big trendy thing these days, yeah Taylor Swift had started this trend of the bracelets that people, that have things on (?), so people would make these bracelets that say “Dan” or “Phil” in beads, and the other day someone gave me a bracelet that said “vegemite" on it.

I: Hahaha

D: And I was like “what the heck?” and they said, “you don’t understand, this is incredibly culturally important, so I was like “okay, thank you, I will cherish the vegemite bracelet”.

P: I got one that said “koala daddy”, I’m not sure what that meant, but (?)

D: (?)

I: Koala daddy?

P: Yep, I think that’s what they were calling me!

I: Have you actually dipped your tongue into any vegemite as yet?

P: Uh, I would have to say it was one of the most horrific experiences of my life, I’m sorry! [Dan laughter in the background]

D: What, Phil, you don’t like a yeast-based condiment?

P: No.

D: How dare you?

P: Dan loved it, though. (?)

D: I’m just a yeasty kind of guy.

I: Yeah, it’s kind of up there with marmite, isn’t it?

D: It is, but I only eat sweet things, so I couldn’t handle it, but Dan was eating a second portion of toast this morning, and loved it.

I: Yeah, it’s good for you!

P: And last time we were in Adelaide we did a vlog where we explored the town, didn’t we? We got Tim Tams, we did a Tim Tam Slam.

D: Yeah. The national sport.

I: The national sport, sucking coffee through a Tim Tam.

D: Yeah, yeah.

P: I can get down with that.

I: Oh yeah, it’s a lot of fun to do! You realise that our Premier is the one who started the ball rolling with the social media ban for under sixteen-year-olds? You’re lucky that you’re here now at this stage of your career rather than at the beginning of your career, because there’s a lot of young people who have grown with you, who will be able to come and see your show!

D: Yeah, absolutely.

I: Are you relying on them sort of moving forward with you?

D: People have been with us for a long time and people tell us some things that are very disturbing.

P: Yeah, we’ve had some people meet us that are like, “I’ve watched you ten years ago, still watching you now, and I’ve got a whole child now!” and it’s like, what, what is happening!

I: Hahaha!

P: Time isn’t real!

I: It’s kind of a historic moment, you’re probably the first English lads to have linked in to youtube, and the Internet, and gone off the way that you have.

D: Nah(?), we were just… well, we come from an early generation, Phil has been doing it for so long that you couldn’t even make a career off youtube yet, there was no monetization, he was just doing it out of boredom, that’s how terrifying it is.

P: Yeah, I’m a youtube dinosaur, so yeah, I think definitely(?) I was one of the first ones to do it, but it’s crazy that we’re still doing it now, 15 years later.

I: It’s basically become a career for you, hasn’t it?

D: Absolutely, and none of it was planned, it’s been a constant runaway train since day one, and the emergency brake stopped a long time ago.

I: What kind of experiences are you getting to have in your down time while you’re in Australia this time around?

D: Well, I wanted to go to the beach, and then Phil said there’s a high chance you’re gonna get eaten by a shark, and I was like, “a high chance? I don’t know about that” and then we asked a guy and he was like “oh no, they’re out there, I see them every week”; so… [laughter]

P: I am hoping to look into the eyes of a wombat and have an emotional connection.

D: A  Deep spiritual moment? Okay.

P: My favourite animal.

I: A wombat?

P: Yeah, I love a wombat!

D: Underrated.

I: Do you like the hairy-nosed wombat, or just the plain old brown one?

P: I’m not sure of the difference, maybe I should find that out, maybe that’s gonna be my quest.

D: (?) Make a decision.

I: Yeah, if you come face to face or nose to nose with a hairy-nosed wombat, he’s more likely to roll over and let you cuddle his tummy. The other ones have got a (?) and they’re a little bit more aggressive.

D: Okay. Sounds like me.

I: [laughter]. Have the audiences been laughing at all the right spots so far?

D: Definitely, and they’ve been laughing at all the inappropriate spots where they’re not supposed to, as well. But we’ll take it. You either have an audience that laughs all the time even at the inappropriate moments, or a quiet one. And I don’t want a quiet one.

P: Also, a good thing about our show is that we kind of give everyone a recap of everything that’s happened in the last fifteen years, so if you’re like, “oh, I used to watch Dan and Phil a while ago”, you can still come along and you’ll get right up to speed.

D: Oh, we know that people are dragging their husbands, their mothers, their older sisters to the show, and these people are like, “what the heck is going on?”, so don’t worry, we cover the base.

I: Sounds good to me! I hope you have a fantastic time in Adelaide, and you continue to enjoy yourselves.

D: Thank you!

I: Ride the wave, don’t worry about sharks.

P: Excellent, well, yeah, we’re looking forward to it. Thanks, nice to speak to you!

I: You too, cheers lads! Dan and Phil…

P: Cheers!

D: Bye!

I: They’ll be at the Adelaide Entertainment Centre next Monday, uh, coming. On the 16th. So, if you are keen to see them do their thing live on stage, go and join the masses that have already bought their tickets, get in while you can.

[sinnersweets]

DogDay x Reader part 8

<;-----part 7, part 9----->

After my birthday mine and DogDays relationship towards each other changed. He would be a little bit more flirtatious with me while I continued to be a nervous wreck around him. I think it’s safe to say that I liked liked him and I’m sure he also did too but none of us would ever bring up that topic. I would die of embarrassment if I told him about my feelings for him and he didn’t feel the same. I’m fine with what we have now.  

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at my office door. “Come in!” I thought it would be DogDay since he’s really the only one who came in my office, but it was actually Sarah. “Oh, hey Sarah, what brings you by?” She shut the door behind her and took a seat in front of my desk before saying, “I came here to like possibly warn you that Bobby Bearhug is like totally trying to get your spot in the show. CatNap overheard Bobby and Miss Delight talking and like; he told me that she convinced Miss Delight to be your understudy.”  

I was taken back by this. However, I was grateful that Sarah told me about this. “Thanks for the heads up Sarah.” She nodded her head while popping a piece of gum in her mouth. Again, I have no idea how she got hired but she seems nice. As she got up to leave, she said one last thing before closing the door. “Oh right, you might wanna go down to the theater room because your costume, it’s like huge.” I made a puzzled look on my face. It shouldn’t be huge; it should be my size. I gave Bobby my measurements. I sighed and followed behind Sarah. 

--------------- 

When I entered the theatre room I was impressed by all the decorations that everyone has made. The set was turning out great. As I looked around I spotted Bobby over by the stage...wearing my costume. Deep breaths Y/N; deep breaths. I walked over to her and put a strained smile on my face. “Hey Bobby.” I said through my teeth. She looked over to me and smiled while saying, “Oh hi Y/N!” I clasped my hands together and took another deep breath. “So, Bobby, I heard that you are now my understudy and I’m so excited for that; but why are you wearing my costume?” Bobby giggles and spun around showing off the costume that was clearly supposed to be made for me. “Well Y/N as your understudy I should also get a costume, you know in case something were to happen to you.”  

I was so close to saying a snarky comment, but I heard DogDay call out from behind me. “Hey Angel!” I turned around and saw that DogDay was in his costume. It looked exactly like the one in the cartoon. He wasn’t wearing his sun pendent, but he looked quite good in the outfit. “Whaddya think Angel?” He turned around and showed off his costume. I smiled while saying, “You look very good DogDay, though I like you more with no clothes and your pendant.” His ears perked up and his eyes widened. I just heard how he probably heard it and that is not what I meant at all. “Wait wait wait- I didn’t mean to make it sound like that at all I swear!” I hid my face in my hands, already feeling my face warm up. “I’m flattered by your comment Angel.” I felt his paws grab onto my hands and pulled them down from my face. As I looked at him he was now at eye level with me.  

“No need to hide that pretty face of yours Angel, I find it cute when you blush.” I could feel my heart beat a little faster. “Where’s your costume at Angel?” I snapped back into reality and struggled to find my words. “Oh-well um, Bobby is actually wearing it.” I pointed behind me and I saw DogDay look to where I pointed. “Oh hey BB! Didn’t see you there.” I quickly covered my mouth with my hands not wanting to laugh out loud. “Oh that’s fine! I think you look absolutely dashing in your costume DogDay~” She pushed passed me and walked up to DogDay. “BB why are you wearing Angel's costume?” “Hm? Oh no you see this is my costume. Her’s is over there.” Mine and DogDays eyes followed to where she pointed, and I saw the same costume that she was wearing but smaller in size. “As her understudy I think it’s only fair that I make myself a costume. In fact DogDay I think you and I should rehearse together.” A whistle blew over the room catching everyone's attention. Up on stage was Miss Delight. “Attention everyone! It’s time to rehearse!” Oh joy. 

--------------- 

Thankfully my costume fit me. I felt kinda off not wearing my uniform, it’s grown on me. I looked at myself in the mirror and was impressed with how I looked. My costume was identical to what Belle wears throughout the movie. “Alright, let's do this.” 

--------------- 

The first couple of scenes went off swell. It surprised me to see DogDay act not so cheerful while playing Beast. KickenChicken...I think he was taking his role too seriously. Hoppy kept smacking him on the head every time he would go off script. Damian tried to have a French accent, but it didn’t sound French; more Irish. And then Bobby; I was ready to throw hands with her. She would always interrupt me and say that I was doing a scene wrong and come on stage and act out what I just did. On stage there was a trap door and every time she would walk over it it took everything in my power not to pull the handle to make her fall through. 

Miss Delight told everyone to take an hour break and then to come back ready to do the whole show. Some of the cast left the room while others stayed behind. I was one of the ones that left. I got an alert from my phone saying there was a severe rainstorm coming near the factory, I hope it wasn’t too bad. I was starting to get a headache and needed to lie down in my office. DogDay followed me to my office saying I could take a nap with him; which I agreed to instantly. “Don’t worry Angel, after today we’ll just have one more day of practice and then we get to perform in front of everyone and Bobby won’t be bothering us anymore.” DogDay spoke as he laid down on his bed and I leaned up against his shoulder. “I hope so. She’s giving me a headache.” DogDay chuckled. After a while we both fell asleep and laid close to each other. 

--------------- 

We were just at the part where Belle tends to the Beasts wounds when suddenly the power goes out. Great. The storm cut the power. Without the lights the theater room was completely pitch black. “Everyone please remain calm and don’t move! We’ll just have to wait for the power to turn back on.” Miss Delight said somewhere in the seats. A loud thunder shook through the room silencing everyone. I sat in the darkness along with DogDay and Damian and the rest of the cast. As I leaned back against my hands I felt something land on top of my head. 

I raise one of my hands up to my head and grab whatever landed on me. I took out my phone and turned on my flashlight and I saw what it was. A spider. I stood up instantly and moved away from everyone while I started swatting around me while screaming, “GET IT OFF GET IT- AHHhh-” Snap. I felt my ankle break as I fell. I cried out in pain. “Angel??!” I could hear DogDay call out for me, but I just kept crying in pain. 

The lights soon came on and then I saw where I had fallen. The trap door was open. I must’ve fallen maybe ten feet down. Soon I saw Damian and DogDays head peer over. “Angel!! Hold on I’ll be right there!”  DogDay disappeared and Damian had a look of horror on his face. “Damian move b-back...I don’t want you to fall!” I said while still crying and fighting through the pain that I felt. Miley, who played Babette pulled Damian back. As I lay helplessly, I saw red smoke surrounding me. I started coughing as I inhaled this smoke. I saw DogDay approach me before I passed out.  

--------------- 

I slowly opened my eyes and saw that DogDay was asleep at the foot of the bed I was on. Looking around the room I saw that I was in the infirmary, though it looked more private than the one I’ve seen before. As I went to go sit up, I felt a shock rush through my body. “Argh-” DogDay then shot up and looked at me before pulling me into a hug while saying, “Angel! Finally you’re awake, I was getting worried.” “How long was I asleep?” I spoke out while hugging him. “Nine hours.” “Nine hours?! That’s ridiculous!” DogDay released me and grabbed onto both of my hands. “You really scared me there for a moment Angel; Damian too.” I felt horrible that Damian saw the pain I was in. “Where is he?” “He’s in Home Sweet Home asleep; I think it’s three in the morning right now.” "Huh??! That means I’m here after hours!!" “Don’t worry Angel, as your boss this won’t count against you. I just need you to rest up and heal.”  

The show. I won’t be able to do it. That means.... My eyes teared up as I chuckled. “Haha, looks like I’m out of commission for the show.” DogDays face changed to one of hurt and displeased. That meant he would end up doing the show with Bobby. She got her way. “No, I won’t do it. I don’t want to do it unless it’s you out there with me Angel.” “You have to DogDay. No one else got an understudy but me. You must.” I leaned over and grabbed onto Dogdays head and rested my forehead on his. “You’ll do great.” I kissed his nose and closed my eyes while still resting my forehead on his. “Angel?” “Hm?” “Can I stay here with you until it’s time for rehearsal?” I smiled and said, “Of course.” DogDay then got up and climbed behind me on the bed and positioned me up against his chest after he took off his pendant. “Comfy?” I hummed yes and closed my eyes while DogDay took my hand and rubbed the top of it. Before I fell asleep I felt something on top of my head again. A kiss.  

A/N: *hides*

[doraminatook]

We're About To Get Playfully Blasphemous Here (or...The Metaphorical Death and Resurrection of Me)

2023 was the year I turned 33, and in case you didn’t know, many religious scholars cite that as the age Jesus was crucified and rose from the dead.  Now, within literature there’s a trope called the Christ-like figure in which a character sacrifices themself and from that death, something happens in order to advance the plot.  Usually that something is either the “dead” character rising from the ashes and obtaining new powers (think Gandalf the Grey battling the Balrog and then coming back as Gandalf the White) or the protagonist being so moved by the death of this secondary character that they are reborn in some way (think Red Badge of Courage’s Jim Conklin (JC…get it?) whose death changes Henry’s opinion on war.)

Because I’m a storyteller and have a dark sense of humor, I began to wonder if I would somehow have a Christ-like-figure-moment within my thirty-third year of life.  (Not long after my birthday, I told my mom that I just had to make it to 34 and then I would have “beaten” Jesus; being a good Lutheran woman, she did not appreciate this joke.)

Now, I may be reaching or forcing figurative imagery into the literal world (isn’t that what artists do?), but I think I did have a “death” and consequential “resurrection”.  

I’m at a strange place in my writing career in that I am not famous (by any means) but I’m also not considered emerging.  Recently, I was told by a theater that I should “sit this contest out” and give someone else a chance but at the same time my work has not been produced enough to catch an agent’s eye.  (It doesn’t help that theatre companies have an intense fixation on world premieres.  They want to be the first one to do the show, apparently assuming that as soon as a piece gets produced once, that means it’s finished.  But that’s a rant for another day.) 

Currently I live in Milwaukee and for a long time I thought (or at least hoped) that I could maybe just make it work here; it is technically a theater town.  Add to that the fact that my whole family lives in Wisconsin, my financial situation was not ideal, and my best friend (platonic soulmate) had made it fairly clear to me that she did not wish to move away from Milwaukee.  When I was honest with myself, I knew that I wanted to get out, but there were so many things holding me back from making the jump.  

As soon as the thought of moving away entered my head, Anxiety would perk up.  Always eager to be the backseat driver, it would shout things like, “Isn’t life here good enough for you?  You’ve got a roof over your head, a job that allows you to pursue your passion, and you’re perfectly healthy.  Be grateful for what you have and stop expecting something more!” 

I attended a workshop for other playwrights from the area and, at the risk of sounding arrogant, I didn’t have a lot in common with many of them.  Discussions and questions whirled around about how we find time to write, where we get inspiration, and how we format a script properly.  Some of the writers present had never even finished a full script.  I certainly am not bringing this up in order to shame anyone, but it was an eye-opening experience for me.  Was I a proverbial big fish in a little pond?

My anxiety had an opinion for that, too.  

“Wow!  Way to be egotistical, D!  You think you’re so much better than everyone here?  Get over yourself!  You’re not special.  You’re just another ‘artist’ who thinks they’ve got something special to say!”

A few weeks later I was at my cousin’s wedding and after the ceremony, he approached me to offer congratulations for all the success I’ve had…only to then immediately cut me off guard with the question, “So when are you moving to New York?”  As the groom, he was quickly called away for photographs and I never really got to answer his question.  

If this moment had been in a play, the spotlight would have hit me right then and there and I would have begun some contemplative soliloquy where I openly pondered, “New York, eh?  Maybe I should go to New York!”

Obviously, as a theatre person, the idea of moving to New York had crossed my mind; it’s the theatre capital of the US for obvious reasons.  But, at the same time, New York just didn’t feel like me.  (I have a lot of opinions on NYC, especially when it comes to the outrageous ticket prices.  When it costs a small fortune to see a Broadway show, art becomes a luxury rather than a necessity.  But that’s a rant for another day.)  It certainly seemed daunting, and every good dream should be at least a little daunting.  But New York was daunting without being exciting.  It felt like something I should do…something that was expected of me.

LA didn’t do it for me, either.  Nor Seattle.  I considered many locations, but nothing really made me sit up and take notice.  I wasn’t about to dive headfirst into debt and throw away a good thing unless it was something that truly excited me…something that was enticing enough to spark a change.  

Again, Anxiety spoke up, “Calm the fuck down, D!  New York?  Even if that is what you wanted, they’d eat you alive there!  You’re a soft midwestern girl who can’t take criticism and cries at the drop of a hat!  You really think you could handle New York or LA?  Also, the cost of living in any of those places is way more than you will ever hope to make!  Stick with Submission Helper.  Stick with the contests and the festivals.  Go back to dreaming only as big as The Milwaukee Repertory Theatre.  Sit down and shut up!”

It may have gone on like this…if not for the summer of 2023.

Close your eyes and picture it: WGA strike, Barbenheimer, The Eras Tour, OceanGate, the Grimace Birthday shake…and in the midst of it all, I was having an epiphany.  

A favorite television show of mine dropped its latest season and I eagerly pulled out the Chardonnay and the popcorn to binge it all.  The vast majority of the show takes place in London and features several actors whom I admire greatly.  Between the giggles, sobs, and various twists and turns of the emotional rollercoaster that was Season 2, something all at once occurred to me.

This is what I want.  

That’s where I want to be.  

I want to move to the United Kingdom.

Was it daunting?  Hell yeah, it was daunting.  

And it was exciting.  

It was a dream that excited me.  

It burned inside me.  

It raged.

It burned so hot that I didn’t know what to do with it.  I paced around my tiny apartment, simply stunned by the prospect of it all.  

Anxiety was in the process of drinking a quad shot espresso con panna and promptly did a spit take upon hearing this new idea.  In a frenzied panic, it bellowed, “Are you nuts?  What the hell do you think you’re doing?  YOU can’t move to the UK!  It would be so difficult!  You’d need to apply for a Visa…or something like that!  Do you even know how to apply for a Visa!”  

“No,” I metaphorically replied, “but I could learn.”

“I bet it’s super difficult!” Anxiety shot back, trembling in fear, “I bet it’s expensive and complicated and you’ll never figure it out!  I bet your sense of humor wouldn’t translate!  I bet you’d end up broke and living under a bridge and crying because you threw away this good thing you had!”

For a split second, Anxiety almost won…but somehow, prompted by the promise of this new dream, I dared to ask, “But what if it worked out?  What if I could figure it out?  What if I somehow scraped up the money and did the research and filed the paperwork and just made it work?”

If it were a play, I would have been standing center stage, staring out into the audience like some kind of dramatic hero and whispering hopefully, “Yes…what if…?”  

It has been a long road to get here, but, despite what Anxiety likes to tell me, I did figure it out.  The process has been stressful enough to induce atypical Shingles and a few anxiety attacks, but it’s happening.  It’s actually happening!

This October I’m going to grad school at the University of Essex where I’ll pursue my masters degree in Scriptwriting.  I’ll hone my skills as a playwright while learning the ins and out of writing for film, television, and radio.  I’ll take the train into London on the weekends and see every show I can at the National Theatre.  I’ll get new life experiences.  I’ll do my best to explore every inch of that beautiful island.  I’m going to do something new because it’s scary and, most importantly, it’s exciting.  

(To add to the awesomeness of this new adventure, my best friend (platonic soul mate) is moving with me and pursuing her own dreams of studying acting…also at the University of Essex.)

My “death” was not as dramatic or world-changing as Jesus’s, but it gave way to a new life for me.  The power of storytelling combined with a newfound confidence was enough to catapult me into something new, something different.    

And I know you’re wondering what show I was watching that prompted this sudden change; if you know anything about me, you’ve probably guessed it already.  

Along with seeing as much theatre as I can on my visits to London, I also plan to have surreptitious meetings at The Bandstand, feed ducks some frozen peas at St. James’s Park, and maybe help avert an apocalypse (or two).  My birthday is in January and it just so happens that Season 3 is scheduled to begin filming around that time; perhaps on my winter holiday, I’ll put myself onto a train and take myself up to Edinburgh.  I have so many thoughts on what could possibly happen next to my favorite angel and demon…but that’s a rant for another day.

(Fun fact: I say this line at least once a week...if only to myself.)

[yearning-for-autumn]

A Night At The Opera

Word Count: 1,579

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Smut, this is just smut really, daddy kink, public sex

A/N: This is based on a writing prompt I found a while back and have now lost, the prompt was "Are you hard? Here?" If anyone knows where this is from I would be so grateful, i'm going to go digging for it so I can tag the creator.

Feyre was the only one among all of you who truly enjoyed the opera’s in Velaris. Yet, you banded together every now and then to humour her, the joy and wonder on her face worth every second of confusion at what was supposed to be happening on stage.

Tonight it seemed to be a harrowing love story between a Half-Fae male and a High Fae princess, though the warbling chorus singing in a language long forgotten wasn’t really translating.

Rhys was slowly drifting off to sleep, his head resting on Feyre’s shoulder and his violet eyes drooping shut. A low murmur came from where Cassian and Nesta sat, with Nesta flicking through the program and frowning as they tried to decipher the plot. And Azriel, sitting beside you, was every so often shifting his weight from on leg to the other, subtly crossing them and keeping his hands clasped in his lap.

You furrowed your brow. “Az, what’s wrong?” You whispered, “You’re acting really restless tonight.”

He hummed in response, not answering your question. You leaned in closer, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “We can leave if you don’t like it, honey. I’m sure Feyre won’t mind.” You said quietly, willing to abandon the Opera if it meant getting to the bottom of your mates strange behaviour. He grimaced.

“She will,” He said, turning his head to speak quietly into your ear, “I’m fine, just keep watching.” His deep voice sent shivers through you, and you adjusted your position in your seat. Rhysand had you all seated in the royal box, allowing for ample room. Frowning, you sigh “It’s not that interesting.” You were now fully ignoring the commotion on stage. “I’d rather know what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.” He said through gritted teeth, “I’m fine. Can you please just sit back in your chair.”

You moved away from him with a huff, hurt. You subtly sniffed yourself, wondering if there was something wrong with the way you smelled. Was it your breath? You breathed into your hand, but all you could smell is the mint of your toothpaste. It was impossible to hide anything from Az, and with a roll of his eyes, he leaned closer to you over the armrest of the theatre chairs.

“Baby, you smell lovely, and you look lovely.” He assured you, “I’m just a bit uncomfortable. The chair’s too hard.”

“Rhys paid for the comfy seats.” You say, even more confused now. “Mine’s really cosy, do you want to switch?” You were becoming increasingly concerned. Azriel wasn’t usually one to complain, and he was definitely acting strange. Your mind raced with theory after theory, overthinking the things he had said until he put his face in one hand in frustration, pulling it away from where it had been resting on his upper thigh. As he lifted it, you saw what it had conveniently been hiding. Your eyes flickered up to his in disbelief.

“Are you hard? Here?” You asked incredulously, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes. Azriel groaned and looked up at you, ashamed.

“I’ve been hard since I saw you come down the stairs baby. You look so hot.” His tone bordered on whiny, and you bit back a laugh.

“We should definitely go.” You said, your mind drifting to images of Azriel winnowing you back to his apartment, pressing you sensually against the wall, plush lips finding the hollow of your neck and--

“Baby stop. Feyre will be so upset if we leave now.” His low voice startled you out of your fantasizing. You let out a small growl of frustration.

“She’s not even looking.” You argued.

“Didn’t Rhys get hard in the Birchin one time?”

“We’ll have to walk past Cass and Nesta. They won’t let me live it down.” Was his second excuse. You wrinkled your nose.

“Yes. And it’s prime teasing material. I don’t want to be beaten at my own game, baby.” He retorted. You sighed, sensing he wasn’t going to give in easily, despite his predicament. It was surprising he’d stayed at attention this whole time, it seemed you weren’t the only one lost in your fantasies tonight. A small smile grew on your face as you turned slowly to look at him. You trailed a manicured hand down his thigh, delighting in the fluttering of the muscle underneath.

“Then there’s only one way to fix this, honey.” You said, voice low and teasing. Azriel’s eyes flickered up to you in surprise.

“What are you doing, princess?” And fuck if that wasn’t his husky bedroom voice that turned your core molten. You bit your lip, and your hands found the large bulge in his dress pants, squeezing lightly.

The performers on stage had begun a crooning number, the ridiculous costumes reflecting the fae-lights off every surface. Your hand started to stroke up and down his clothed shaft, feeling its thick length throb and pulse with every movement. It was a teasing pace, barely enough for Azriel to feel the warmth of your grip. Positioning yourself, you leant in close, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to the column of his neck.

“Playing.” You whispered. He let out a shuddering breath.

“Princess,” His voice was a warning growl, “If you want to play, then you had better play properly.”

You couldn’t fight the shiver that ran down your spine.

“I can’t take you out here, Daddy,” You bit your lip as you pulled out the pet-name sure to make his resolve weaken, “people will see.”

“Fuck.” He ground out, “I need more than what you’re giving me, love. Just...go a bit harder.”

You giggled, trying to hush your voice.

“Are you begging me?” You teased. He snarled, nipping your earlobe, his hot breath searing your sensitive skin.

“Remember, Kitten. I can easily take you home and punish you after this.” Cauldron, your pussy was dripping. Azriel’s tongue licked a burning stripe up your neck, your pulse fluttering under your skin. You whimpered.

“Sorry Daddy.” You soothed with a pout. Azriel gave you a small smile and turned to kiss you properly, his tongue swirling around yours, dominating your mouth easily. Your eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy. Kissing Azriel was your strongest vice. It was so easy to get lost in him. He pulled back, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention your way, Rhys and Feyre were a row in front, but Nesta and Cassian were only a few chairs down from you, and though there was plenty of space between your chairs, they felt tantalisingly close.

You resumed your loving attention to his cock, still rock hard under your touch. From Azriel’s gritted teeth it was clearly becoming painful. Your hand sped up, squeezing hard at the tip to replace your usual twist that was impossible with the frankly offensive layer of clothing between your skin and his. You wanted to feel him, the heat of it, the taste. When you got home you swore you were going to suck him dry.

“Fuck, fuck. You’re so good baby. Such a good girl for me.”

“Is it good, Daddy?” You ask, your feigned innocence only turning him on more. You felt his cock give a painful throb beneath your touch and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Mhm, lower your hand a bit, yeah, that’s it, yeah.” He groaned as you trailed your hand down and squeezed his balls roughly. You grinned. Azriel loved having his balls played with. You alternated between squeezing and stroking, ocassionally pressing down hard with the heel of your palm. This earned you a whimper, causing anther gush of slick between your legs.

“Baby, Kitten, fuck I’m done for if you keep that up.” He groaned through gritted teeth, the only time in his life where he struggled to keep quiet. You giggled, not letting up until he was thoroughly satisfied.

“Cum for me, Azriel.” You demanded, licking the shell of his ear.

Azriel came with a shuddering gasp and a wet feeling against your palm. You rubbed him through it, milking him dry as his pants grew sodden. Around you, the opera had reached it’s final chorus, Azriel breathing hard as you lay your head on his shoulder. You felt a little self-conscious now it was all said and done, and your gaze darted about to check no one was watching.

“I can’t believe we just did that.”

Azriel huffed a laugh, “I’ll treat you when we get home, love.” He said, trailing promising kisses down your neck. You pushed him away gently with a soft laugh.

“Will you eat my pussy, Daddy?” You asked teasingly.

“If you ask nicely.” He said, though you both knew it took no encouragement to get him on his knees, licking you to completion.

You glanced around at your friends. Rhys was now fully asleep on Feyre’s shoulder and Cassian was fiddling with Nesta’s hair, who was staring at the stage in puzzlement. None of them seemed to have noticed your activities.

As you left the theatre, Azriel’s shadows swirled around his waist, conveniently covering the damp stain of his cum. He grimaced as he walked with the cooling mess against his now soft dick. Cassian bumped your shoulder as he walked past, and he grabbed your hand to pull you closer to him.

“You do know we were sitting right next to you, Kitten.” You flushed scarlet, and Cassian’s booming laughter drowned out any of Feyre’s excited chatter about how good the opera had been. If only the rest of you had been watching.

A/N: This is my first ACOTAR fanfic ever! Feedback is appreciated but please be nice, i'm sensitive. I hope you liked it!

[bangaveragewhitewine]

seventeen again

Eddie Munson x Reader 

At a Hawkins house party, you find yourself stolen away from the throng with the theatre nerd who played the bad boy part oh so well. You always found yourselves together back then, drawn together by the universe. You look up at the perfect night sky and sigh. Yeah, you prefer it now, like this.

word count: 1.4k

contents: Eddie and Reader are in their late twenties/thirty in this. All very mild and sweet. Some kissing, some yearning (past). I’m (as always) in my feelings. GN!Reader. Reader sits on Eddie’s lap. If you so choose, you can read this as Eddie and Reader being parents if that’s your thing (it’s implied that some of The Party are parents).

note: Well, it’s been a while! I’ve wanted to write something for so long and I just couldn’t. This came from nowhere, a blank page that filled itself. I hope you enjoy it, even a little bit! Thank you @specialagentmonkey for reading over this! Dividers by @saradika-graphics

1995

A light breeze cuts through the muggy night air, not quite cool enough to make you shiver but you’re glad for the worn denim wrapped around you. You are grateful too for the body behind you, keeping you warm as you pass a joint and a beer back and forth. 

You feel seventeen again; a Hawkins house party, stolen away from the throng with the theatre nerd who played the bad boy part oh so well. You always found yourselves together back then, drawn together by the universe; paired up for a project or pulled together from the peripheries at parties and hangs to shoot the shit, trading gossip and blowing smoke rings. Just friends. Just friends until neither of you could keep pretending that it was enough.  The ‘will we, won’t we’, ‘should we, we shouldn’t, god I want to’ fear of ruining a blossoming friendship has long been put to bed and locked in with a ring on your finger, a home together. A life together. You look up at the perfect night sky and sigh. Yeah, you prefer it now, like this.

Ever the drama club kid, never missing his cue, Eddie drops a sweet kiss onto your shoulder and lets his chin rest there for a moment. 

The sounds of the party going on without you bleed through the open kitchen windows, reaching you on the shady back patio sharing a lawn chair. The music and Dustin Henderson’s pitchy delighted laugh, loud voices and Robin’s cackling joy. It is everything you missed.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” Eddie asks, breath tickling your neck.

You rest your head back, tilted to look up at him. “You. Us.”

A syrup-slow smile spreads across his face, making his dimples deeper behind his dark stubble and crinkling the lines around his eyes. Your bodies are both softer and stronger now; you know every wrinkle and tattoo, every stretch mark, scar and freckle. You both know the ticklish spots and where the stress and tension settle and twinge. Behind the smile lines and the extra ink, Eddie is unmistakably the same boy you fell in love years ago.

“Yeah? Sap. You’re sitting there smiling to yourself, thinkin’ about me? Me? You like me or somethin’?”

Pleasantly cross-faded, his teasing makes you feel warm and giggly which makes his smile wider and more fond. 

“Mmm, yeah. You’re kinda cute…”

Eddie’s arms tighten around you and he dips his head to press your lips together, both smiling and lovesick. It’s hard to keep up the charade when you look so pretty under the porch light. 

Heads together, you both settle into the content silence that comes with being together for over a decade. Eddie makes a small noise of thanks as you pass him the bottle of beer you have been sharing. It’s wet with condensation, and the beer is not as cold as you wish it was. You will grab two more from the fridge when rejoin the party. Not yet, but soon. This is enough for now. Your friends have not come to drag you back inside yet but you both know the clock is ticking. There is still plenty of cake to eat and drinking games to play. There are a few shots left on the disposable cameras lying around the kitchen counters and side tables, they will not go to waste.

Despite how much Eddie likes attention, basking in the spotlight and the thrill of applause, something about his thirtieth birthday party caused a few more ‘where’s the birthday boy gone?’ moments than expected when he slipped away for quiet moments alone or with one of the assembled Party.

Dustin had basked in that pocket of quality time with Eddie sitting together on the front porch, promising another Hellfire Weekend soon before this one had even ended. There’s a one-shot planned for tomorrow which will be fueled by caffeine and breakfast sandwiches and so much Advil. Nancy let herself be tempted away with a single celebratory cigarette and after that, Max needed her own break from the men reverting to their boyhood squabbling. She steered Eddie out to walk around the garden, sharing an edible and getting a little bit sappy about how far they had come from neighbouring trailers in Forest Hills - though neither of them would ever admit it. (Well, Eddie would but Max would punch him in the arm about it). 

Gladly and graciously, you took your turn at last. Eddie’s hand found yours in the melee and you let yourself be stolen away for a moment to check in and indulge in some nostalgia, and make out just a little bit in the shadowy backyard of El and Mike’s house. You had never been brave enough back then, on nights a little like this, to dream that Eddie would actually ever kiss you like you wanted him to, let alone make a move to break the tension that sparked between you like that dud lighter you used to carry. Eddie had borrowed and burned himself on that neon pink Bic more times than you could even remember, cursing like a sailor every time. When you were doubled over laughing at his expense, he used to feel dizzy with how bad he wanted you, how making you laugh and smile made him sick with the swirling butterflies in his gut. 

It all started with a warm shared beer and joint on someone’s pool deck. Once you had that first kiss, it was hard to stop. He was there to kiss you after you walked across the stage without him at graduation. He was ready for the inevitable parting of ways, all too aware of how ready you were to leave Hawkins, but you stayed and waited for him through everything. You stayed and you were there next to Wayne to cheer and holler when he thrust that diploma into the air a year later, and you kissed him with tears on your face when he came to find you in the crowd.

Eddie squeezes you a little tighter, his own thoughts about the past and the present, your future, turning around in his head too. 

The sky above you twinkles endlessly. This might be one of the things you miss the most. You’re far from the light pollution in the city and it’s nice to stargaze for a while as you sit together on a sun chair built for one. You’re staying with Wayne for the next few days before you head back to reality, back to the fixer-upper house in the suburbs of a city a couple of hundred miles away; his backyard is perfect for stargazing and it was worth the trip just for that. 

“Are you having a good time?” you ask, toying with the springy coil of a curl that lies against his neck.

Eddie nods, looking up at you. You are prettier than any star he could gaze at.

“Mmhm, the best,” he says, his voice quiet but laden with sincerity.  

Eddie used to think that once he got out of Hawkins he would never ever come back. He thought he would sail out of there with two fingers up to the town he grew up in, eyes on the road ahead. Wayne would have understood why, but he was glad that his boy changed his mind. Neither of you thought that you would be back here for a party with your variety pack of friends, all of whom had scattered across the country to begin and build their own lives. No one had flaked or faltered to say ‘yes!’ to the invitation to Eddie’s birthday, booking plane tickets and wrangling partners and spouses and kids for a trip home to Hawkins to celebrate their DM, their bandmate, their friend. 

Said friends have missed him too much to let him skip out on the party a moment longer. You can hear the commotion and in a moment the backdoor will swing open and Mike and Lucas will wolf whistle and tease and insist you both rejoin the party. But your eyes stay fixed on Eddie.

You can see a shred of lingering bewilderment in his eyes; everything turned out okay, better than okay. Your lips press against his for a moment before you wrap yourself around him, nose against his neck into that heady blend of spicy cologne and sweat and smoke.

“Happy Birthday, Eddie.” 

Thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments and likes are cherished and adored 💜

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Movie Night Gone Right

—

Time Written-8:55 p.m.

Jason Todd/Fem!reader smut

—

“God, how on Earth did you hide being such a goddamn slut from me?” His seemingly angry tone of voice echoed throughout the limited space, calloused hands grasping onto your waist with a relentless, steel-like grip.

Date night would’ve been better if you both hadn’t decided on a god awful movie to watch at the theatre.

He told you to cut it out, at first, when your bored hand settled precariously along his thigh instead of reaching for popcorn. Even he wasnt dumb enough to do something that could easily be recorded on this shitty theatre’s night vision security cameras.

But no, you just kept on fucking pushing, kept teasing your fingers dangerously close to the buttons of his jeans, kept lightly teasing him when his self control withered at your syrupy sweet, annoying persistence.

“Get in,” he demands after yanking you out of the theatre early, somewhat grateful under all of his irritation that he had an excuse to leave the pain in the ass movie

“That’s fucking ridiculous, babe. You just can’t listen, can ya?” He chastised, forcing you in the passenger seat of his car.

Your back laid flat against the backseat after a short, risky drive, sweaty skin sticking to leather with your black skirt pulled over your thighs, his fat cock stuffed deep in your crying hole, bullying your insides with little remorse.

“Yeah? This what you wanted, huh babe? Being bred like a damn slut in the backseat?”

His nails dug crescent shaped moons into your hips, joining the handprints along your ass as temporary tattoos for the evening. He had half a mind to stop at three quick, chaste orgasms, but you didn’t exactly deserve mercy right now, did you?

Your belt bound hands could only settle against his broad chest, your nails scratching down his fully clothed body all you liked, leaving lipgloss smeared kisses against his chin as a pitiful attempt at an apology, anything to make him go just a teeny bit easier.

Nothing would stop him from abusing your cervix all he pleased, looming over you like a beast inside this rocking, semi-hidden car.

“No, no you’re not puttin’ your fucking panties back on after this, not after I give this pussy what it needs,” he grunts into your ear before biting your lobe, certain words punctuated by every angry, heavy slap of his balls against your plush, sore ass.

“I’m not done with you yet, pretty girl. You’re gonna sit in your own damn mess on the way home, and you’re gonna- Fuuuck, you’re gonna shove those little fingers up your pussy, an clean up the mess you made. Then I might forgive ya, understand Princess?”

You may or may not have pretended to listen the first time, your mind too lost in the mind numbing ecstasy of his cock prodding all the right spots, eager to be full of his thick cum.

“D’you understand me??” He gutturally questions again, yanking a fistful of hair to force your gaze on his flushed face, smirking devilishly at your open mouthed whimper.

“Y-Yes Sir!”

He chuckles handsomely against your cheek, expecting a full show once he was done filling up your cunt.

Maybe he’ll thank you for giving you both the perfect excuse to leave a dreadfully uneventful movie, but he couldn’t help being a sadist sometimes. Especially with his eager to please woman.

“Good girl.”

[greyfongschemmenti]

A Ride To Remember

paring: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

word count: 1.4k

Warning: none?

"I'm glad we have another thespian in Abbott," Jacob said as he settled into the backseat of your Honda Accord. "I'm not a thespian. I just watch" you gently offer. Earlier in the week during lunch, Barbara and Jacob had been discussing an upcoming production at the Bushfire Theatre. "I can't believe 'Life is a Dream' is being showcased here," Barbara chimed in as she fastened her seatbelt.

"Well, from the sounds of it, it sounds... interesting," Melissa quipped as you closed her door and got into the car. As you joined them, you listened to Jacob and Barbara excitedly exchange how the theater will portray the characters, shaking your head softly as you exchanged a smile with Melissa.

Once the two decided to see the play, Barbara asked Jacob if she could invite Melissa, given that the two had become friends since becoming roommates. Jacob agreed and suggested you join to keep the group in equal numbers. Since Janine has been busy in her new district role. You insisted on driving the four of you to the theater.

"So, who's the Quasimodo guy?" Melissa asked from the front seat as you began the drive downtown.

"Segismundo," Jacob gently corrected her, launching into a detailed explanation of the main character's background and history. Despite Melissa's regretful expression, you couldn't help but chuckle softly at her mistake.

—

While the play unfolded onstage, your eyes frequently wandered to Barbara and Jacob, who were captivated by the performance. You slid your hand into Melissa’s, surprising her and earning a warning look. The two of you exchanged a silent discussion, gesturing to your friends who were engrossed in the play. Melissa relaxed and intertwined her fingers with yours, both of you enjoying the subtle intimacy as you softly ran your thumb over her hand while watching the play. With each exchanged glance between you and Melissa, the connection between you deepened, amplifying the enjoyment of each other’s presence.

—

As the four of you navigated through the crowd exiting the building, you kept holding Melissa’s hand to avoid losing her in the sea of people. Once outside, you both let go, and you breathed a sigh of relief. "The play wasn’t that bad," you remarked with a smile.

Barbara agreed, letting out a happy sigh, while Jacob suggested grabbing coffee before heading back to end the night. No one opposed, and Jacob led the way to a nearby coffee shop. As Jacob and Barbara walked ahead, discussing the theater’s performance, you and Melissa followed, enjoying the quiet moment together, with your hands occasionally brushing against each other, a secret dance of affection in public.

Barbara looked back and saw the two of you oblivious of the action. "Do you agree, dear?" Her question caught you off guard. "I’m sorry, what?"

Jacob jumped in, redirecting the conversation to the play's conclusion “Segismundo’s conclusion at the end of the play. How he condemned the rebel soldier but Barbara is saying it’s about moral awakening”. You and Melissa exchanged a glance, scrambling for an answer. "Umm… I would think both of you are correct? It seemed like Calderón purposefully made it ambiguous, whatever the viewer takes and in return adds additional tension and depth to the play" you offered.

“Nerds,” Melissa scoffed, breaking the tension. Jacob and Barbara nodded, taking your words into account and continuing their discussion. You chuckled softly, grateful for Melissa’s quick save, as the four of you continued to the coffee shop.

—

Jacob opened the doors to The Toast Cafe, and you let Melissa and Barbara pick out a table. "What would you like to drink, Barbara? My treat," you offered, pulling out chairs for both women. Barbara requested tea, while Melissa nodded in agreement with your usual order. You met up with Jacob, letting him order his drink, and then you ordered for yourself and the two ladies.

After the barista made the drinks, you joined the ladies and handed them their beverages. "Oh, you did order a drink, Melissa," Barbara commented, noticing Melissa’s slight hesitation. She held her coffee cup and nodded “Yup, must’ve not heard me” she quickly took a sip to prevent the conversation from continuing.

—

On the drive back to Abbott, the group enjoyed watching the city lights while listening to soft music. Seated comfortably in the back were Barbara and Jacob. Meanwhile, in the front seats, you and Melissa exchanged furtive glances. After a while, Melissa absentmindedly reached her hand over and intertwined your fingers, resting them on your thigh as you navigated through the city streets. Melissa softly stroked your hand as you focused on the road.

Jacob looked away from the window and glanced over at his colleagues, noticing Melissa's hand. He thought with how dark the cabin was that he was seeing things but as each street light passed the image was clear. His face lit up with surprise, and he exclaimed, “Oh my god!”

The sudden outburst startled everyone, causing you to slightly swerve. Melissa’s hand immediately withdrew, her fight or flight instinct kicking in, while you regained control of the steering wheel after swerving out of the lane. "What?!" you exclaimed, “Yeah what the hell Jacob!” Melissa looked back at you just as Barbara grabbed onto the car and her chest, thinking this was the end.

Jacob looked at the both of you. “You two… you’re seeing each other!”

You and Melissa froze, exchanging panicked looks as you struggled to come up with a plausible explanation.

Barbara, ever the voice of reason, shook her head. "Come on, Jacob, don't be ridiculous. Melissa and y/n are just... friends, right?"

Jacob raised an eyebrow skeptically, his grin widening. "Oh, please. I may teach sixth grade, but even I can see the sparks flying between those two. No need for headlights with how bright they are"

Melissa cleared her throat, attempting to steer the conversation away from their personal lives. "Don’t be ridiculous. How about that Quasimodo dude and Rosario chick?"

“I already told you, Segismundo and Rosaura,” Jacob gently corrected her, launching into their stories before he stopped. “Oh, nice try, Schemmenti,” he added with a knowing look while Melissa stares daggers at him. The both of them having a silent discussion with just their looks before he relents “Alright, I'll drop it... for now.." 

But Jacob's intuition couldn't be swayed. His playful demeanor masked a keen awareness that sent a shiver down your spine. You and Melissa exchanged a glance, silently acknowledging the precariousness of your situation.

Once leaving the parking lot, dropping Jacob and Barbara at their cars, leaving Melissa last. You drove around the lot before leaving the lot entirely to actually drive her home. Once arriving at her apartment building you walk her to the steps of her building door, offering Melissa your leather jacket. You slide your hands in your jean pocket as the Philly air gets chilly. The both of you share a look before letting out a laugh. “That was close,” you murmured to the redhead. “Yeah, it was my fault. I forgot they were in the backseat when I took your hand,” her cheeks blushed softly, and you shared a smile. “It was weird driving without your hand there,” a slight smirk on your lips as you looked around, in case Jacob was driving up. “You think the coast is clear?”

Melissa glanced over then up at the window for a second and nodded. “Jacob’s gotta be asleep by now,” she whispered, and you took your hand out of your pocket, closing the space between you. Gently tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, you whispered, “Goodnight, Melissa,” gazing into her green eyes.

“Goodnight, hon,” she whispered back, resting her hand on your cheek. Your hands rested on her waist as you leaned in, sharing a series of slow kisses that deepened into a short makeout session.

Melissa let out a small laugh as she pulled back, softly resting her forehead against yours. “You should go before Boy Wonder sends out a search party,” she teased, lightly tapping your cheek before sliding out of your jacket and handing it back to you.

“You’re right,” you agreed, letting out a soft chuckle, sharing a last kiss then whispering to agree to see each other in the morning. You waved goodbye once you reach down to your car as Melissa went inside her house, not driving away until you saw the door close behind her.

Neither of you noticed that Jacob was watching the whole exchange from the bedroom window, a smug look on his face as he turns to walk back to his room. “My gaydar is never wrong.”

[justanotherprettyapollodevotee]

an average day with Apollo

me: gosh, i’m feeling so unmotivated and self-conscious right now. i’ll never be good enough to do musical theatre, maybe i should give up on my dreams of performing and just do something i hate for money

Apollo: NOT ON MY WATCH (present for my audition that i dedicated to him, now I’m in the top 5 choices for BOTH female leads in the end of year show)

me: nvm i’m gonna keep performing i love you <3

in other words i literally cannot explain how much i adore Apollo and how grateful i am that he’s with me every step of the way - and knows how to kick me back into gear when life is shitty 💛🧡

[moralesmilesanhour]

mad props! 03

summary: you're now officially part of the theater club's latest production! just one small problem... wc: 1282 a/n: Can't believe I was able to type this out within the same week. But I diiiid! The songs being performed are: 'Popular' - Wicked 'Ohmigod You guys' - Legally Blonde: The Musical (Original Cast Recording) | Have fun reading ! Feel free to tell me what you thought in the comments <3 (only warning is that the process of putting a theatre production together is probably not super realistic here lmao) 02 03 04

“One five, four five, three five, two five, one five, four five, three-two-one,”

You clutched the white binder containing your sheet music to your chest as you went through every vocal exercise from middle school that you could remember.

From the diaphragm, you reminded yourself, taking another deep breath.

“One five,

Four five,

Three five,

Two five,

One five,

Four five,

Three-two-one–”

“Y/N L/N?” the casting director’s voice called out to you.

Your stomach lurched as you rose from your seat and approached the stage. You handed the sheet music over to the pianist. The blinding stage lights made you sweat beneath your uniform, but part of you was grateful that it hid the faces of your four-person audience. 

The first chord was your cue.

“Whenever I see someone less fortunate than I…”

You sang the lines through your nose, making your delivery as cartoonish as possible. It even earned a few laughs from the dark void in front of you that bolstered your confidence. 

Now, when playing a character such as Galinda, one may be tempted to keep the squeaky ‘princess voice’ the whole way through. But you knew better. 

You added depth to your voice for some lines, maybe a growl here, a cry there; your performance needed to show that you could do more than just play the pretty soprano lead.

You belted the final note, arms spread wide as if you weren’t just about to vomit from nerves, and curtsied.

There was disembodied applause, and then: “Thank you, we’ll be sure to send out an email on Friday to let you know if you got the part.”

“Thanks,” you exhaled as you stepped down from the stage. 

All that there was left to do was wait.

You were jumpy all Friday afternoon. Even Miles noticed your knee making your desks tremble with the way it bounced up and down in the middle of English class.

“Yo, you good?” he whispered.

You shot him a glare while tapping your pencil frantically. “None of your business.”

“It actually is my business,” he shot back, teeth clenched, “ ‘cuz you’re shaking the damn desk.”

“Is there a problem back there?” the English professor peered over his glasses at the two of you.

“Nope,” Miles sighed. “Not at all.”

Your leg stopped bouncing, and you rested your chin on top of folded hands.

“If you must know,” you muttered, “I had an audition the other day, and callbacks are supposed to be this evening.”

He furrowed his brows. “Oh…kay…?”

“What do you mean ‘okay’? I’m super nervous about it–”

“I mean, why are you telling me this?”

Your eyes widened. Why were you telling him this?

“I…well, you’re sitting next to me, and you asked–” 

“I didn’t ask for allat.”

You kissed your teeth, and went back to taking notes in silence.

-

“Oh, the principal’s gonna love that.”

Joshua Baptiste–current president of Visions’ art club–grinned as he watched Miles add his signature to the wide sheet of paper.

Miles replaced the cap on one of his paint markers with a click, assessing his work.

It was a poster for an upcoming pep rally, advertised in bold, sleek letters that curled in and around each other and ended in sharp arrows. Satisfied, he rose to his feet.

“You think?”

“Hell yeah. Better than anything I could’ve put together,” Joshua ran a hand through loose, sandy curls. “I’m more of a portraits kinda guy.”

The boy’s smile was contagious, showing off two rows of light blue braces. Miles remembered how he used to circle back around to his lunch table just to see them when he laughed with his friends, silver earrings tinkling as he threw his head back. 

He’d done crazier things just to see a crush.

Miles returned the compliment, “Your paintings go crazy, though. You could get into art school if you put a portfolio together.”

Joshua shrugged. “Doubt my parents would ever let me go.”

The other hummed in agreement.

“Anywho, I came over here to ask you a favor. Theater club needs an extra pair of hands working on the set, and I already said one of our guys would help out. You in?”

Miles raised an eyebrow at the sudden new project being dumped on him, but he relented. Not like he had anything better to do today.

“Sure. Where to?”

Joshua’s face lit up, and he gestured for Miles to follow him.

“They’re down in the auditorium. You’re a life-saver, man.”

The auditorium was already bustling with students when the two boys entered. There was one group on the far right busy customizing piles of hot-pink costumes with bows and sequins. On the left side, a bunch of kids clutched wrinkled scripts in their hands, practicing until it was time to run through the first few songs. Miles looked up, and taking center stage was a group of no more than ten girls practicing what looked like stage choreography. 

Regardless of what each group was working on, there was an urgency bordering on panic to their movements and voices. Miles thanked his past self for not signing up to be a part of it.

“Oh, thank god!”

A tall, stocky-looking girl wearing pink glasses scurried up to them, carrying a clipboard.

Joshua gestured towards Miles. “Here’s your guy! He’s got an eye for color, you’re in good hands.”

He gave a quick salute before turning to exit through the double doors.

The girl stuck out her hand. “I’m Sarah Park, junior, and student production manager for, uh, all of this!”

Miles accepted the handshake and nodded. “Cool. What’s your vision for the set?”

“Well, it’s…”

Before Sarah could finish, the lights dimmed, and a voice announced: “We’re gonna rehearse the opening, everyone in ‘Ohmigod You Guys’, please take your places!”

She grabbed Miles’ wrist and led him to a seat in the front row and whispered, “You should probably just see it.”

Suddenly, music boomed from the speakers as the stage lights illuminated the same girls from before, now all standing in a straight line across the stage with wide smiles.

They sang a number he didn’t recognize, but there was plenty of squealing as they passed down a blank sheet of paper as a prop. He deduced from the few lyrics he caught that they were playing sorority girls, but that was about it.

As the “Ohmigods” crescendoed, Miles noticed that there was someone entering from backstage that then stood behind the girls. He wondered what for, until the group parted and stepped to the side.

Nothing could’ve prepared him for who stood in the middle of the stage. In a blonde wig.

“It’s almost there, but…”

Miles’ jaw dropped as you recited your lines fully in-character. 

It hadn’t occurred to him that you could smile without malice, but people were full of surprises: Here was the girl who rarely spoke more than a sentence in class until last week, belting her heart out while twirling across the stage. He would have pinned you as more of the debater type.

The song ended on one final “Oh my god!” in unison before the lights were turned back up.

“Great job, everyone, especially for a first run-through. Everybody take five!”

You sighed in relief, wiping away the sweat collecting around your hairline from being beneath a hot wig and an even hotter spotlight. Wig in hand, you carefully descended down the steps with the rest of the cast and made your way back to your seats.

Sarah brushed past you in between aisles, along with a familiar red hoodie.

You paused and spun around on your heel, confirming your fears. 

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

[fae-renjun]

OPPOSITE SIDES OF THE CAMERA — h.sh

ep. 11 — take a chance with me [𖦹 wc: 830+]

previous | masterlist | next — (listen to take a chance with me by niki for the ideal experience)

“that’s it for today guys! all of you did a great job, i can’t wait for us to start shooting tomorrow!!” the rest of the cast said their goodbyes and shuffled out of the room. wonbin shot seunghan a knowing look just as taesan wiggled his eyebrows at you before both musicians left for uni band practice for the upcoming end of year concert, followed by yizhuo who said something about having to style the band. sungchan, shotaro and eunseok said their goodbyes and filed out as well, patting seunghan on the back as they did. sohee and anton walked up to seunghan, holding back laughs as they gave him a hushed pep talk. 

you were too distracted by your conversation with karina and leehan about scenes that might need to be changed to notice seunghan’s nervous glances towards you as his two younger friends left the room. as you finished your discussion with your friends and closed your binder with notes on the film, leehan looked over your head and at seunghan, giggling before leaving the room and dragging karina with him before she could say more than “have fun!”

you spun on your heel to face seunghan, “so.”

“so?”

“where are we going?”

“oh! yeah sorry. um. we’re going to kwangya cafe first, and then, would you want to see a movie?” he said, rubbing the back of his neck in nervousness as he finished his question. you looked at him, holding back a smile, “seunghan i am literally directing a movie right now. do you think i don’t like watching them?”

“oh, yeah,” he laughed in embarrassment. “the local theatre is playing pride and prejudice for its anniversary i think. i remembered you talking about it and i’ve never seen it so i got us tickets.”

your whole face lit up and seunghan was relieved. 

you started talking about how much you loved the movie and how excited you were for him to see it as you packed up. he kept listening, asking questions and nodding his head. when you got to the cafe you cut off a short rant about cinematic techniques in romance so you could order, after which you said, “oh my god i’ve just been yapping about movies again. i’m so sorry.”

seunghan laughed and brushed it off, “don’t worry. it’s cute. i like listening to you.”

“oh. well. i wanna know more about you too though.”

so, the two of you delved into a conversation about his dance background, his love for pokémon, and any mutual interests the two of you shared. before you knew it the food and drinks were over and it was time for the film.

in the darkness of the small movie theatre, your elbows bumped against one another on your shared armrest every time one of you reached for the popcorn bucket in between. you kept subtly glancing over, trying to gauge the boy’s reaction to all your favourite scenes, observing as much of his expression as possible with the light from the large screen in front of you. every time you reacted to a scene—giggling when lizzie rejected mr. collins or sighing as you watched darcy’s hand flex for the 127th time in your life—seunghan would look over and wonder why he’d never tried harder to talk to you before now. 

seunghan was anything but dry and boring. he launched into a mini-monologue about the movie as soon as the two of you exited the movie theatre, and you were grateful for it. You’d always felt like you were too much for people, you’d been told you talked too much and too fast about the things you loved and were too passionate about movies and making them to pay attention to real life. but you never felt like you were too much around seunghan. more and more each day you were hoping his presence in your life would become permanent, and that it wouldn’t end as soon as the short film was done. 

the sky darkened as the sun set while he walked you back to your apartment. when the conversation you had been having came to a lull, you said to him, “you don’t have to do this you know? walking me back to my apartment and all.”

“oh it’s no problem, it’s on the way to my apartment anyway.”

“oh.”

“and i just wanted to,” he finished. you hummed in response, not knowing how to reply. soon, you arrived and said your goodbyes to each other. but as you turned around to open your door and he turned to leave, you spun back towards him, “seunghan?”

“yeah?”

“was this a date?” “only if you want it to be. see you tomorrow, future oscar winner,” he said with a grin, not giving you a chance to process his words and reply before leaving. The final part of his sentence only registered in your head as you walked into your apartment, the thought of it gracing your lips with a smile. 

a/n: not that anyone cares but this takes place the same day as the tpwbib prologue :))

taglist (strikethrough = can’t tag): @billiondollarworth @nujeskz @secretiny @soobs-things @talk022 @renjuneoo @flaminghotyourmom @academiq @luffysgfforevaa1 @yujinxue @starwonb1n @icewons @calumsfringe @seunghancore @snowyseungs @yoursyuno @taroddori @miyawwn @https-yeonjun @shoberi @milktea-academia @sseastar-main @p-d1ddy @woonagi-lemon @lilriswife4life @kyusqult @chuutaroo @parkwonbinie @soheendo

© 2024 FAE-RENJUN. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy or steal any of my posts.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

You Didn't Say The Magic Word (Good Omens One-Shot)

Crowley x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: Crowley isn't the biggest fan of your house guest.

GOMENS: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @florduarte @complimentary-breadbasket (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

At first, there had just been an almost imperceptible scurrying sound in the roof. So small and so quiet you’d almost not heard it. Scampering feet up in the roof that you’d not really been all that concerned with. If it was only one, that would be fine. If they started multiplying, however, well, that might become a bit more of a problem. 

But they didn’t, and one day when you’d been reading one of your many to-be-read books and chomping on some Indian takeout, he’d made his first appearance. A little ball of a thing, small, soft and very round and as soon as he realised you’d seen him, he scampered away back into whichever hole in the wall he’d appeared from. 

You’d left out a small amount of mouse-friendly leftovers and climbed into bed. 

He’d started coming out more and more after that, and you ended up naming him Dodgson. It became almost a little routine for you. Every night you’d leave a little bit of food out, and in the morning it would be gone. Sometimes you’d get to see him scamper out for his snacks and disappear again, but it was few and far between. 

Particularly when you had guests. 

“Not to be a bore, Pet,” Crowley sniffed, watching you with great and apprehensive precision, “but could I possibly ask… why you’re encouraging roaches?” 

You snorted and set the saucer down with tonight's helpings. Some cheese, some cracker crumbs and a small piece of strawberry. 

“Not roaches,” you insisted, pushing the saucer a little closer to Dodgson’s crack in the wall before standing with your hands on your hips. You turned to Crowley and continued, “Dodgson. Little mouse house guest.” 

Crowley opened and closed his mouth a few times, processing that information. 

“Ngk, I- well- why?” 

You blinked, brows furrowing in confusion.

“He’s cute, I like him. He eats his snacks and scurries in the walls at night. As far as I can tell there’s just the one.” 

Crowley nodded as if he understood but you were pretty sure he was just being polite. Crowley looked down at the saucer and grimaced. There, nibbling away, was little Dodgson. You held in the squeal of delight at seeing him so as not to scare him off. 

You sneakily produced your phone from your pocket and snapped a cute picture of him nibbling his cheese. 

Crowley watched this with curiosity, noting how fascinated and pleased you were by the appearance of this little rodent pest. 

“I wish I knew how old he was,” you said quietly, and when Crowley tore his eyes away from the mouse to look at you, he was not surprised to see a crestfallen look in your eye. “They only live for two years, and I don’t know how much longer I’m going to get to enjoy his company for.” 

Crowley hummed in response. 

You were too busy looking at your little friend to notice the twitch of Crowley’s fingers, though something seemed to startle Dodgson, and he scampered away with his cracker, leaving the strawberry. He’d back back later for it, you knew. 

“I suppose only time will tell,” Crowley said comfortingly, putting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing slightly. “Now, are we going to meet our Angel at the theatre or not?” 

You shook yourself out of your reverie and nodded. 

“We sure are.” 

You didn’t suspect Crowley had done anything to Dodgson for another eighteen months when the little mouse showed no sign of aging and was considerably agile for his age. 

Crowley would never confirm nor deny, but when Dodgson was still going strong six years later, and then another fifteen after that, well, it was pretty safe to assume what he’d done… and you were very grateful for it, too.

[nakoayas]

Maisora Hitomi × Minami Maito Special Talk for Maisora's photobook Sincerely ~my twinkling dreams~

Scanned from my personal collection.

Translated interview by @yuzukahibiscus under the cut!

Maisora: It almost felt like I had been in Flower Troupe for so many years and months, and yet it’s hard to believe that it’s only 3 years. I think the reason I felt that this time felt so meaningful was because of the time I spent together with Minami-san. I wanted to take this opportunity to say what I’m grateful for… so thank you for coming today!

Minami: Thank you for inviting me, I’m very glad to be here (LOL). When Maisora came to Flower Troupe… and when I saw you play Hanna in Hanna’s Florist, I thought “this girl will definitely become a star”. But at the time, since I still saw you as “the underclassman Maisora Hitomi”, we didn’t talk much (LOL).

Maisora: Both Minami-san and I are shy people… (LOL)

Minami: I’m not the type to talk to underclassmen so enthusiastically (LOL).

Maisora: I think our relationship changed because of Minami-san’s starring Bow Hall performance Senhor CRUZEIRO!. When it was announced that I would be in this performance, before we went into our actual rehearsals… I remember that we went to take tango lessons together after our Tokyo performances in our previous Grand Theatre performance (The Poe Clan).

Minami: But at first both of us were very careful. Just wondering, “should we do it…like this…today?” (LOL).

Maisora: Both of us were quite nervous (LOL). This was almost the first time that I’m paired to dance with an otokoyaku, not to mention how difficult the dance genre of tango is… it became a greater challenge. From when we began our rehearsals, there were also other genres of dance I had to perform in various scenes, but every day Minami-san would take the time to practise tango with me. After the various lessons, you would say “Okay, let’s practise tango now!!”

Minami: I thought “let’s go!!!” (LOL). We kept practising. I think in Takarazuka revue shows, rather than just the genre of tango, this concentration for serious choreography between the pairing of otokoyaku and musumeyaku, so they’re quite difficult. In normal Takarazuka dance scenes, I’d say a complimentary effect happens when the otokoyakuk leads the musumeyaku step by step, but tango can’t be made possible if the otokoyaku and musumeyaku aren’t dancing as contrasting equals. Then I started to realise there’s no time to be shy anymore (LOL). We started thinking how we could make the dance look better, and our relationship became one like comrades when we had the same goal.

Maisora: Yes. I couldn’t remember how many times I accidentally stepped on your feet…

Minami: (LOL).

Maisora: You said “Don’t worry about it!’ “It’s okay if you got it wrong, just try it once more!” Every day, I observed how sharp Minami-san was with her dance moves… I think that didn’t impact just me, but also all of our members too.

Minami: No, no, no…

Maisora: During the performances, when I came back to the company every morning before the performances, you were already getting ready (LOL). You were always so diligent on yourself.

Minami: Did that really happen…

Maisora: Since going on stage and going to rehearsals were so different, I still felt nervous over it. I thought, what if I couldn’t dance as I thought I would? But at the time, I thought of overcoming this with an unwavering mindset…

Minami: I felt the same. Because if one of us were uncertain, then the other should support her!

Maisora: You were so fantastic at leading the dance.

Minami: No, Maisora has great sense too. You’re like this now as well, but you have always been straightforward without thinking too much.

Maisora: Because at the time, I didn’t know anything.

Minami: Yes, but that also makes accomplishing things much easier. And your body balance has always been firm. I guess both of us were diligent in body training. I also think that we’re quite passionate the same way we approach things.

Maisora: Yes. I wanted to focus on that scene, because it conveyed a world where only two people remain. Then on the closing day, before I realised it, the scene was already over… Before I noticed it, I was already hearing the audience’s applause.

Minami: The applause was deafening. I was really glad.

Maisora: The moment I heard the applause, I remember how happy I felt to be on stage, that I still remember how it feels now.

Minami: Me too.

Maisora: I was truly happy. And then afterwards, we went on the national tour Melancolique Gigolo / EXCITER!! 2018 in the same year.

Minami: We danced tango as a pair again in the prologue of this show. Because the two of us wanted to show this burning passion, to look cooler than any other couple! (LOL).

Maisora: It was as if we turned this switch on (LOL).

Minami: Yes, yes.

Maisora: You told me, “Dance more, dance more!”, so I said, “Yes, I’m coming!!”

Minami: (LOL). I don’t usually do that. But that’s because I trust Maisora.

Maisora: The “Havana” scene too..!!

Minami: That was fun too. I remember that scene made me realise again, “Wow, Maisora is so good!��

Maisora: No, no, no… I’ve loved EXCITER!! for a long time, so I was really happy to be in this scene in this show that I used to watch a lot. And as the national tour ended, there was the TAKARAZUKA SPECIALS, and the rehearsals for CASANOVA began… what a dizzying schedule.

Minami: That’s true.

Maisora: In which you told me after the TAKARAZUKA SPECIALS was over, “You did great in the national tour, let’s work hard together!”

Minami: Huh, really? I don’t remember that at all (LOL).

Maisora: I thought Minami-san also worked so hard for it too, but hearing your words really made me so happy.

Minami: No, I mean Maisora too was so busy, but didn’t you and Hana Yuuki-chan create this national tour photo album for Rei (Yuzuka) and me? “How cute these girls are”, we thought. Now I still cherish that album. I come to look at it once in a while.

Maisora: Thank you. Later, it was announced that I’d be transferring.

Minami: I was too shocked to hear that…

Maisora: When I told everyone, I remembered Minami-san disappeared elsewhere.

Minami: At that time, I just couldn’t come to accept it… I don’t know (LOL).

Maisora: Even after we were in different troupes, every time we met, it was as if our relationship never changed, since you’d call out to me, “Hey, Maisora!” like that.

Minami: That’s because I still see you as my friend and comrade.

Maisora: Thank you. I’m so grateful. And then time flew by… then came the Hakataza performance Me And My Girl!!

Minami: I was surprised. Hearing from the company that I’d be performing in Star Troupe’s Me And My Girl and Maisora would be playing Sally, I screamed… I even worry if the whole company could hear the echoes of my screaming (LOL). After I became a Senka member, when I heard that my first performance would be with Maisora, I was deeply thankful from the bottom of my heart. How can this destiny be possible, I thought.

Maisora: I was also surprised. Before our rehearsals, together with Akatsuki-san, the three of us went to Hakataza for the interviews.

Minami: That’s right. Both me and Ari-chan (Akatsuki Chisei) were shy (LOL). Thanks to Maisora that we were able to break the ice. I was grateful to spend the time with you two.

Maisora: Then our rehearsals began. You had to play both Bill and Sir John… I can’t imagine how difficult that would be.

Minami: At first, I was like “you’re lying” (LOL). But looking back, that was such a valuable experience. I think Star Troupe members, led by Co-chan (Rei Makoto), were all very energetic and powerful, and that’s exactly how you all were. At first I was really overwhelmed by your power.

Maisora: I remember you telling me that.

Minami: Everyone was so bright and straightforward, so I was inspired by the Star Troupe members’ philosophy of “Let’s give it a try” on anything. While creating the role, I could feel how difficult it was because many seniors performed this performance in the past. And to me, I wanted to bring something out of me, so that I could perform it like how a particular actress did it in my favourite Me And My Girl version. But the director Miki Akio-sensei said, focus on creating the Me And My Girl with these members this time. And then, I was most moved by Maisora’s growth. As a Top Musemayku, you had various experiences… and there must be countless things you have to consider that I didn’t know. But with the guidance from Co-chan and from all members of Star Troupe, I believe you worked even harder. So to feel this Maisora Hitomi was really amazing…

Maisora: Nothing… like that at all. It’s because everyone was guiding me.

Minami: The applause was deafening. I was really glad.

Maisora: Since this was a musumeyaku role I admire, I was concerned and frustrated and couldn’t find myself breaking through this bottleneck, and when I was troubled with these things, Minami-san would kindly guide me along. Since you already knew me back when I knew nothing, so I’m delighted that you could tell me how you really felt or thought when you look at me now.

Minami: Sometimes I find it difficult to express my thoughts if what I say will have a negative effect, but I also believe that there`s no good in being reserved and not telling you... because you`re my comrade Maisora.

Maisora: I’m so thankful.

Minami: Even though it would be great if I took care of myself the same way (LOL). But I certainly feel that the quality of the performance shouldn’t drop. And I think that’s possible because the members were leading me.

Maisora: No, no, I believe that it’s because Minami-san led everyone!! You always cared how everyone was doing… And even though you were already busy with your two roles, you wrote every one of us a letter and gave it to us on the last day of performance, just like what you did during Senhor CRUZEIRO!!.

Minami: Well, there’s that (LOL).

Maisora: You wrote to me, “When I’m with Maisora, there’s nothing I have to worry about and I can tell you everything, and so I’d like to aim higher”. You don’t know how happy that made me feel. Thank you so much (cries).

Minami: Thank you too.

Minami: Earlier, I watched your Music Salon, and it was really amazing.

Maisora: Thank you, for writing such a warm message to me.

Minami: Did I (LOL)? Well, that’s because you sent me a long message first. I hope that you’ll be healthy in mind and body until the end… I’m looking forward to it, that while you may be fighting it to the end, I hope you can accomplish everything and complete your Takarazuka journey to the end.

Maisora: Thank you.

Minami: Ah yes. My fans told me that they found me calling you “Maisora” in a manner with such affection and love… so I hope you understand if I continue calling this as such (LOL).

Maisora: Speaking of that, during Me And My Girl, I think you called me “Hitomi” at some point.

Minami: I did (LOL). Everyone in Star Troupe were surprised to see me calling you “Maisora”... even you told me so. I remember you telling me, “You called Hana (Yuuki)-san as Hana-chan♡ too so why are you calling me ‘Maisora’”... And I had to do my best explaining to you why my affection for each of you was different, but in the end I did call you ‘Hitomi’. I said, “Hitomi, you did well.” But then…

Maisora: It was quite awkward for me to hear that… So I said you can still call me Maisora just fine (LOL).

Minami: And I’m like what… In the end, I’m back to calling you Maisora.

Maisora: (LOL).

Minami: … With that, I hope Maisora will always be Maisora.

Maisora: Okay!! (LOL)

BONUS!!!

Caption: In this photoshoot, since both are splendid dancers, they kept doing more mature and fantastic poses, but... they kept chattering before and after the shoot, and that's the Maitii and Maisora who kept laughing all about.`

[edosianorchids901]

Forget How To Feel

Ace Omens Hugfest 2024 prompt - "a silent hug"

St. James’s Park, 1860

“Ooh, and I thought perhaps we might go to the theatre soon! That would be lovely, wouldn’t it? We could go see Hamlet again.”

Crowley grunted in response to the enthusiastic chatter. His only audible contribution to their meeting so far, aside from grunts of agreement, was the tap of his new cane. The silver snake head handle wasn’t exactly comfortable to hold, and definitely not practical, but it looked cool. Very fashionable.

“Or-or-or perhaps something a bit more cheerful,” Aziraphale said with a sideways glance at Crowley. Crowley averted his gaze, studying the ducks instead. They seemed a lot happier than he was. “I know Hamlet isn’t precisely your favorite thing. I do adore it, especially because it reminds me so much of your kindness.”

Crowley hissed softly.

“Well, it was kind. And don’t argue with me, Crowley.” Aziraphale stopped, and Crowley jammed the cane down to slow himself without toppling over at the sudden change. His legs hadn’t been very reliable this week. “Actually, I would feel somewhat better if you argued with me. You haven’t said a single actual word, and I’m not sure whether it’s because something’s wrong or if I’ve simply been babbling too rapidly for you to sneak in a response.”

Aziraphale waited for him to reply. Crowley stared at the ducks and didn’t reply.

When Aziraphale just kept standing there, waiting, Crowley finally caved. “S’ not you. But nothing’s wrong.”

“Something certainly seems wrong. I-I am aware that I’m often chattier than you, but you usually at least, well. Chat.” With a little sigh, Aziraphale searched his face. Crowley found himself grateful for the new sunglasses that shielded his eyes from the side, too. “Quite frankly, I’m starting to worry.”

There it was. The phrase that would always get him to reply at least a bit, even if he masked the worst of the trouble. “You don’t need to worry, angel. I’m just… kinda down. S’ not a big deal.”

Ducks splashed in the water, totally absorbed in their own lives. It looked peaceful.

“Yes, well. You’ve been ‘kinda down’ since that whole incident in Edinburgh.” Aziraphale swallowed hard, twisting his gloved hands together. “Of course, it’s not that I can blame you, considering the trouble you were in. I merely wonder if I could be of assistance.”

After a minute, Crowley shrugged. Then he looked around nervously for observers. No one seemed to be paying any attention at all to them. “D’ya think ducks ever have a bad day? Or are they just, y’know… happy as a duck, as the saying goes?”

Aziraphale gave him a baffled look. “I’m not entirely sure that is a saying, my dear. Although I’m not always entirely on top of slang…”

That was an understatement. Normally, Crowley would have teased Aziraphale a little about that. Right now, it seemed like too much work.

When he didn’t answer, Aziraphale gave a little huff. “Well, would you rather we met up another time? If you’re having a bad day?”

“I didn’t say I was having a bad day. I was just asking about ducks,” Crowley protested despite knowing that Aziraphale would never buy it. Aziraphale gave him a look. “Okay, okay. Yes, I’m having a bad day. But I just want to…”

He snarled in annoyance, unable to admit it. He just wanted to be with Aziraphale. Not doing anything, not talking. Just together, where the world didn’t feel so bleak.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said softly. “Well, in that case, I’d be more than happy to stay together. We don’t have to talk, if you’d rather not. Why don’t we go sit on the bench for a bit? It’s actually quite a nice day, sun and everything.”

“Nnnh.” Crowley glanced towards their usual bench. It was usually comfortable. “My legs are killing me today. Sitting on wood doesn’t sound terrific. But I don’t really wanna walk back to the shop, either.”

“I could carry you.”

“I am not letting you carry me. That would definitely make people look at us.”

“No, I mean…” Aziraphale snuck a quick look around. “Not in this form. You could turn into a serpent. We could even sit on the bench like that, if I’d be a more comfortable place to rest.”

Biting his lip, Crowley regarded the angel beside him. Aziraphale was definitely the most comfortable place around, no question about that. “People would still look at us.”

“And then they would assume that I’m merely an eccentric, taking my pet snake out for a walk on a nice, sunny day.” Aziraphale held out his arms. “Shall we?”

Crowley snorted. “You’re not even gonna let me sit down first?”

“We can, if you feel like walking.”

Oh. He really, really didn’t feel like walking.

With a soft hiss, Crowley leaned his cane against the fence and laid his hands on Aziraphale’s forearm. “Okay. Okay. But I swear, if you let any humans pet me…”

Aziraphale beamed. “No humans petting you. I promise.”

Reassured, Crowley shifted into his rarely used snake form, coiling around Aziraphale’s arm as he did. The pain in his legs morphed too, distributing to most of his body. But at least it was different, and less intense.

He opted for a pretty big snake, big enough that he would probably scare most observers away. Aziraphale cooed and hugged him close, supporting him carefully. “Oh, my dear. You’re so adorable in this form.”

Crowley hissed his disapproval.

“My apologies. You’re… very striking. Handsome. Stunning. Also quite large.” Chuckling, Aziraphale shifted Crowley’s weight to one arm, then picked up his cane. “Shall we?”

That didn’t mandate a reply, so Crowley didn’t bother getting one. He was too busy being a snake, enjoying the way it sanded the sharp edges off his mood.

It shifted his priorities. Sure, he was still depressed and exhausted and in pain, not to mention constantly worrying about everything going wrong again. But all of that receded. All the snakey side of himself cared about was warm angel, and he definitely had warm angel.

“Here we are.” Aziraphale sank down onto the bench. He leaned the cane nearby, then wrapped both arms around Crowley’s coils. “Would you like me to talk at all, or be silent?”

Right now, talking was too much to process. Crowley hid his face under Aziraphale’s fluffy cravat thingy.

Aziraphale gave a soft chuckle and stroked his coils, then simply wrapped his arms around Crowley and lapsed into silence. Crowley emerged from under the cravat, resting his chin on Aziraphale’s arm.

The previous pileup of anxious worry faded, retreating deeper into the background as he sank into the comfortable lack of conscious thought. Right now, none of that seemed to matter much. He was with Aziraphale, being hugged to incredible warmth. Nothing could be more important than that.