#posting this for the cr crowd tonight

[laconicmoon]

Critical Role meets Northanger Abbey

in my Imogen / Laudna fic-in-progress, become a living soul ! 💜🖤

👗If you're a Jane Austen fan but wish her shit was gayer and magicky...

💜🖤If you miss Imogen and Laudna together....

🕸️If you enjoy spooky fun-scary Gothic times...

Now is a great time to dive in! I'm about halfway finished and update on Tuesdays! <3

[pico-digital-studios]

Into, Across and Beyond! Scripting: OMH Final Battle

PREVIOUS POST

During One More Hero's climax, the yet-to-be-named Blur Gang (sans OMT!Tails) were sneaking towards the Death Egg site together, each of them looking down at a new docking station not there previously.

EX!Alice: Okay. Nega's got a private elevator entrance from the laboratories to the interdimensional energiser below.

Mini Sonic: Didn't count on having an audience, huh?

They headed down to...

Death Egg Zone - Entrance Salon

Some guests walked past massive banners depicting Sonic: "THE SONIC MEMORIAL FUND".

All except Mr. Needlemouse: You've GOT to be kidding me...

Eggman Nega stepped out, waving to the crowd as the heroes watched from above.

Eggman Nega: Thank you, everyone, thank you! It's lovely to be here this evening to celebrate the legacy of our beloved hero, Sonic. He sure inspired many in his life. Kids love the Blue Blur, don't they? Still do, heh.

OMT!Mina (disgusted): Hmph. What a hog he is.

Mr. Needlemouse: I'm right here!

Mini Sonic: Hang on. Look at how the waiters are dressed. It's in poor taste, but...

He saw some waiters in Sonic outfits, or variants thereof.

Mini Sonic: ...it can't be that easy.

Cut to a moment later with them in fancy disguises and carrying a trolley through the fundraiser area.

Mini Sonic: Yeah, it's that easy.

Eggman Nega: I'm just sorry my grandfather can't see this event tonight.

They carefully weaved through the crowd, soon coming across Johnny as one of the bodyguards.

Johnny: Can I help you?

CR!Sonic raised his fists, though OMT!Mina lowered him down.

OMT!Mina: Yeah, sorry about that. It's our first day on the job and we were just looking for the kitchen.

Mini Sonic: Yeah. We just wanna make a good first impression for the gala tonight.

CR!Sonic raised his fists again, though OMT!Mina yet again lowered them without looking his way.

Johnny: Okay, let's see what you've got on this trolley.

He lifted the croche, revealing Mr. NM conveniently disguised as a pig dinner, with only his quills and ears noticeable amidst the disguise, complete with an apple in his mouth.

Johnny: Hahaha! I didn't know you were really going all out with this tonight. You even decorated the dinner's head with stuff fitting for the gala.

OMT!Mina: Uh, yeah! That's what it is.

Mr. NM briefly coughed up the apple before putting it back in his mouth, and before anyone could see him do so as well.

Johnny: A shame, really. I can't really eat roasted rabbit, or whatever your dish is.

Mr. NM: You don't deserve a cooked rabb-!

OMT!Mina hastily covered the plate up.

Johnny: Well, then. Kitchen's just right through there. Have fun, then!

CR!Sonic: Yeah, thanks!

The group headed off as Johnny sneakily raised a communicator.

Johnny: Yeah, they seriously think we're that dumb.

The heroes entered the kitchen.

CR!Sonic (amused): Oh, they are dumb!

OMT!Mina: They are so dumb!

EX!Alice: Over this way!

They stepped into an elevator leading downstairs. In the energiser control room, Zeena was firing the machine up.

Computer: Initialising primary ignition sequence.

As Eggman Nega entered his office, and the door closed behind him, OMT!Mina used her web-shooters to hoist the guards out of sight and sound. Inside, Nega reached the observation platform.

Eggman Nega: Prepare the ignition sequence!

Zeena nodded, a scientist taking one of Gerald Robotnik's old hairs to sample into a DNA sequence.

Scientist 1: Uploading Gerald Robotnik DNA sequence.

Scientist 2: Beginning scan for dimensional matches.

The energiser fired up, a computer monitoring and calling the machine's status.

Computer: Secondary ignition in 5... 4... 3... 2...

Nearby, the five heroes entered the chamber as the quakes got MUCH worse than before, causing panic back in the city as OMT!Knuckles, OMT!Amy, OMT!Cream and the SIGU Chief took note. In the Death Egg, CR!Sonic and OMT!Mina were nervous about what was coming, seeing the beginning of a dimensional collapse.

OMT!Mina: Sonic, you don't have to stay behind. I can do it.

CR!Sonic: It's okay, Mina. I already made up my mind.

They leapt to the ceiling of the room.

CR!Sonic: I'll put the goober in and take over the controls. Once you're gone, I'll blow it up. Good luck, guys!

They headed forward, and Sonic was about to activate the stick when their super-senses went off.

OMT!Mina: They know we're here!

Zeena leapt down from the ceiling.

Zeena: Nice to see you again, Maurice!

She threw CR!Sonic into the ceiling and pinned him there. The others tried to help him, but were flanked by Johnny and Surge as a joint force. As the dimensional rifts merged, the five fought the three henchmen of Eggman Nega. After Mini Sonic started glitching, EX!Alice made a mighty bound to rescue him.

EX!Alice: I got you covered!

OMT!Mina came flying in, seeing Surge hot on her tail.

OMT!Mina: Urgh... These guys are the pits!

CR!Sonic: Why is this always difficult?!

CR!Sonic struggled to work the device as Zeena strangled him.

Zeena: Any last words, rodent?

CR!Sonic: I-I need a minute to think about it. D-Do you have a pen?

Zeena (smiling sinisterly): Goodbye, Maurice Hedgehog.

Suddenly, she got punched seemingly out of thin air, which CR!Sonic reacted to in surprise.

Zeena: What was that?!

She looked around before seeing OMT!Tails and Kaede leaping towards her.

CR!Sonic: Tails?!

Zeena: Detective Ghost?!

Kaede/Ghost: Take this!

The duo knocked her backwards, letting OMT!Tails catch CR!Sonic as they landed on a balcony.

CR!Sonic: Wow, Tails! You're a professional at this!

OMT!Tails: About time, right?

The others reacted to seeing Tails in action for real.

Mr. NM: Hey! Look who showed up!

EX!Alice (overjoyed): Tails!

OMT!Mina: You figured it out, buddy!

CR!Sonic: I love you, man! I'm so proud of you! (to himself) Do I want kids now?

Zeena leapt back up.

CR!Sonic: Oh, yeah. Forgot about her.

The group notice a box entering the energiser.

OMT!Tails: That doesn't look promising.

Kaede: Sure doesn't.

In the control room...

Scientist 1: I've got genetic matches! Hold on... It's too risky.

Eggman Nega: Shut up and turn it up!

The seven heroes worked together to fight the bad guys as the room descended into pure chaos, and upstairs, OMT!Tails's family of choice and the SIGU were guiding people back out to the mainland.

OMT!Sally: Get to safety, everyone! We'll be right there!

Back in the chamber, fragments of other worlds started seeping through as things got crazier.

OMT!Tails: Guys, are you seeing this?!

OMT!Mina: Looks like our dimensions are coming to us.

CR!Sonic: Looks cool, though, right?

Kaede: We need to get back up there. Hopefully it's not too hard-.

The four quickly leapt out of the way as Zeena threw explosive snowballs at them. Nearby, Mini Sonic and Johnny were in full fist-fight mode, each putting up one hell of a fight before Mini Sonic grabbed Johnny by the legs.

Johnny: Get off of me! If I go down here, my name will be soured in the history of speed!

Mini Sonic: Hasta la vista, sharky boy!

Mini Sonic spun around at ridiculous speeds before lobbing Johnny sky-high, leading him to explode in a flashy style. Eggman Nega quickly entered the room when he saw what was going on.

OMT!Mina: Nega!

Eggman Nega: What's the meaning of this?!

CR!Sonic: The end of your endgoal, that's what, Egghead!

EX!Alice attacked Surge with her hammer, not making the same mistake twice this time around.

Surge: Why, you...! I'll hit you so hard, YOUR HEAD WILL SPIN!

She charged up her electricity and charged towards EX!Alice, before Mr. NM leapt up with a giant boulder.

Mr. NM: Rocks away~!

He threw it on top of Surge, catching her off-guard as the pair took her down as one.

EX!Alice: Alright, Surge! Back to your dimension you go!

They threw her through a dimensional portal.

Mr. NM: Aww, did dat feel like a wittle cartoon to you? (blows a raspberry)

OMT!Tails, OMT!Mina, Mini Sonic and Kaede then turned their attention to Zeena, tag-teaming to take her down as a group. During this, Mina was knocked backwards toward the big beam.

OMT!Tails: MINA!

Tails leapt after her, pulling her back out of danger.

OMT!Mina: I like the metallic sheen of that nanomachine suit!

OMT!Tails: Thanks! I made it myself!

CR!Sonic pulled the duo back to safe ground.

CR!Sonic: Heh, that was adorable, team. Now, hold on tight!

The three worked together to attack Zeena, finishing with Kaede kicking her into a wall.

Zeena: ARGH! ...If these stains don't come off later, YOU'RE ALL DEAD!

She leapt toward them, laughing like a pure maniac.

OMT!Mina: Buckle up, guys! This is going to take a while!

Just as suddenly, a huge truck flew past, hitting her and knocking her out of the fight.

OMT!Mina: Okay, never mind. Let's end this thing!

OMT!Tails was ready to take the lead.

OMT!Tails: I got it, guys.

CR!Sonic: I'll go. I'm the one with the goober, afte-.

He looked in his hand and saw it vanished, before noticing OMT!Tails had it.

CR!Sonic: Oh, come on...

OMT!Tails: Don't watch the mouth, watch the hands!

OMT!Tails did the iconic finger wag, before jumping through the chaos in the room.

CR!Sonic: Tails!

OMT!Mina: Be careful!

Eggman Nega: All defences, stop him NOW!

Lasers fired at him, though he flawlessly performed Kaede's manoeuvre from before, landing near the control panel.

OMT!Tails: Heh, wow. That was crazy.

CR!Sonic: We taught him that, right?

OMT!Mina: I didn't teach him that. And you definitely didn't.

Kaede: Heh, guess he's already learning a lot from me, too. Now, let's go!

They leapt up to join OMT!Tails as the rest of the multidimensional heroes followed.

OMT!Tails: Alright. I got control of the energiser!

He inserted the goober, beginning to disable the energiser's world-ending protocols.

Computer: Alert! Quantum polarity has been disabled!

Eggman Nega looked on in disbelief, FINALLY losing his shit for real and dashing to his Egg Mobile to settle the score once and for all.

OMT!Mina: Guess this is it.

EX!Alice: Well, it's nice to know we're not alone.

OMT!Mina: Yeah.

They looked at each other. They knew they needed to go for now, but part of them wanted to stay. OMT!Tails activated the machine and prepared a portal after entering a code.

OMT!Tails: I got the portal open. You first, Alice.

EX!Alice (smiling): Thank you, Tails. I really mean it. Until we meet again!

She leapt through the portal as a new one opened and that one closed.

Mini Sonic: Er, you guys are the coolest! Well, I'm taking this cube thing with me. I don't quite understand how it works yet, but I'll work it out.

Mini Sonic let go and disappeared. Next up was Mr. NM, holding up two huge mallets.

Mr. NM: You two, I want you to have these.

Kaede: Woah, those are pretty big.

Mr. NM: Don't ya worry! They'll fit in your pocket!

The two took them, putting them away in their equivalents to pockets.

Mr. NM: And with that, that's all, folks!

He leapt into the portal.

CR!Sonic: Wait, can he legally quote that?

OMT!Tails turned to OMT!Mina, for more than a moment.

OMT!Tails: Is it... alright if I say how beautiful you look, Mina?

OMT!Mina: Heh, you know I'm older than you, right? A couple of years, but it's pretty significant, if you ask me.

OMT!Tails: Well, Einstein did say time is relative, right?

OMT!Mina: Heh, nice.

OMT!Tails: ...Friends?

She smiled, giving him a sweet hug close to her.

OMT!Mina: Friends!

OMT!Tails: Hehe, cool!

OMT!Mina: Well, see you around, hero!

She made her departure with an elegant leap, leaving only CR!Sonic to go.

OMT!Tails: Your turn, Sonic.

CR!Sonic (hesitant): Yeah, yeah, right...

The three felt their senses go off as Eggman Nega smashed through the flying buildings to get to them.

Eggman Nega: You're not going ANYWHERE!

CR!Sonic: I'll hold him off! You guys shut the energiser down!

He leapt forward.

OMT!Tails: Sonic, that wasn't the plan!

CR!Sonic: Push the green button! Don't wait for me!

He prepared to charge at Nega, but was quickly hoisted back by Tails and Kaede's enerbeam bracelets.

CR!Sonic: What are you doing?

Kaede: You need to go home like they have!

CR!Sonic: This guy might kill you! I can't let this world's new hero die...

OMT!Tails: Neither can I.

CR!Sonic: It's okay.

OMT!Tails: Yeah, it is okay.

Tails drop-kicked him, holding him over a portal.

OMT!Tails: It's time to go home, Sonic. Your friends there still need you.

CR!Sonic (now sad and scared): H-How do I know I'm not gonna mess it up again...?

OMT!Tails: You won't, buddy. Trust me.

CR!Sonic: R-Right. I gotta take that first step.

Sonic let go, ready to make that change, smiling to his newfound friends as he fell into the portal.

CR!Sonic: Heh, not bad, kid.

This left OMT!Tails and Kaede to take on Nega together.

Kaede: Alright, Nega! It's go time!

They began their attack, with Tails swiping the gun out of Nega's hand.

OMT!Tails: Nuh-uh! That's cheating!

They leapt onto a flying subway train and saw the control panel in the middle of the room.

OMT!Tails: We gotta reach that button.

Nega grabbed OMT!Tails angrily, dragging him into the subway train and attacking him head-on. Fortunately, Tails could predict the hits and fought back, but ran out of energy to do a venom strike.

OMT!Tails: O-Oh, no...

Eggman Nega: Not so easy doing this all on your own, is it?

He grabbed Tails by the neck.

Eggman Nega: I can't wait to kill Sonic's little idiot friend!

Kaede watched helplessly, but suddenly, visions of Gerald Robotnik in multiple universes flashed around them, causing Nega to let go of Tails in shock.

Gerald Robotnik (in different realms): ...I plan to give you a taste of my revenge, once all the seven Chaos Emeralds are collected. Once I initiate this program, it cannot be disabled. All of you ungrateful humans who took everything away from me, will feel my loss, and despair!

Eggman Nega: W-What?!

OMT!Tails: I-Is this what you wanted? To see your grandfather be imprisoned and executed across multiple worlds?

GUN Officer: Is there anything else you want to say?

Gerald Robotnik: No...

GUN Officer: Ready!

Gun shots sounded out as each vision vanished, causing Nega to collapse to his knees in disbelief.

Eggman Nega: N-No! Spare him!

The train was now empty as Kaede and Tails made a dash for it, with Nega leaping out and glaring bitterly at the two.

Eggman Nega: You're not stopping this. Not today.

OMT!Tails: Sorry, Nega, but we ARE stopping this!

Kaede: And we're doing it NOW!

Nega did NOT hold back on pummelling the two, throwing them between flying structures in the chamber as Tails's family and friends watched from the observation tower. And by the end of it, Tails and Kaede were exhausted, finding it difficult to get an edge over the doctor.

Eggman Nega: The real Sonic couldn't beat a malware without giving his life up! You are both nothing! You took my grandfather, and now I'm going to make sure you'll never see EITHER of your families ever again!

Tails was hyperventilating, the trauma from OMT slamming right back into him, giving Nega the opening to throw him and Kaede into the ground. They were close to being finished off, when...

OMT!Knuckles: Tails, get up!

Their eyes snapped open hearing their friends and family rooting for them.

OMT!Sally: Come on, Tails!

Luna: Ghost, please get back up!

Max: Come on!

OMT!Tails: Come on... Come on...

It took the duo a few wobbly seconds, but they managed to get back up again, staring Nega down.

Kaede: There's something important you forgot, Nega. People like us WILL always find a way to get back up!

OMT!Tails: And no matter what life throws at us, unlike you, we'll ALWAYS have our families! Besides, you ever hear of a "shoulder touch" technique?

Eggman Nega: Er, what?

OMT!Tails flew right up close to him, using his tails to boost his height to ensure he'd nail it this time.

OMT!Tails: Hey~!

He put his hand on Nega's shoulder, the energy from his hand catapulting the doctor sky-high. Kaede threw her lasso at Nega's arm, pulling him towards the control panel.

Kaede: Hey, doc! Push that green button!

She slammed him down onto the control panel, nailing the impact and causing the electricity to go into the entire machine and begin frying it. The beam began sucking what it dispersed right back in, with OMT!Tails and Kaede hanging on for dear life, before exploding, blowing everyone in range backwards.

As the smoke cleared, the close ones stood back up, seeing OMT!Tails and Kaede still alive and well, having used the Chaos Emeralds as a last-minute trick to save themselves and those in the building, to which they received applause for saving the world, and by extension the multiverse, together.

That evening, OMT!Knuckles watched Eggman Nega be hauled off to prison to serve his time, as OMT!Sally and OMT!Amy watched as well. Tails came down to their level.

OMT!Tails: Hey, everyone!

OMT!Cream: Tails!

OMT!Sally: Hey, little bro!

The five shared a group hug.

OMT!Knuckles: You know, Tails. What I said back at school, it wasn't just talk.

OMT!Tails: Heh, I know.

OMT!Sally: So, maybe we could find a nice wall, privately owned, and you could "throw" up some of the art you've been doing with Uma?

OMT!Tails: Heh, okay, Sally.

OMT!Amy: Heh, you know, Tails, you definitely deserve a break after all that craziness today. You've done our home proud!

OMT!Tails: Aww, thanks!

Kaede leapt down with Max close by.

Kaede: Knuckles?

OMT!Knuckles: Oh! Detective Ghost! Listen, down there, that was- I mean, we all owe you big time.

Kaede: I'm looking forward to properly working alongside you guys!

OMT!Amy: Us too, Ghost!

Kaede: Heh, just call me Kaede. Just keep that between us, okay?

OMT!Sally: Fine with us.

OMT!Knuckles: Yeah, me too, I guess. I mean, I don't approve of the whole secret superhero style you got going on, but I guess we gotta agree to disagree.

Kaede: Thank you for your bravery tonight, heh, knucklehead.

OMT!Knuckles: Haha! ...Wait, what?

Kaede hoisted OMT!Tails on her shoulders as they headed out to the cheering crowd, their friends and family watching with shared smiles.

OMT!Tails: Thanks, everybody!

OMT!Tails passed the petition sheet back to Crafty who was amongst the crowd, who cheered from getting the required signature count.

Crafty: Yes! We did it!

Daylight: Absolutely impressive, Crafty!

Bobby: Way to go, Crafty!

Naksh smiled softly, applauding her.

Kickroyale: Never thought you'd be able to pull this off, but the kid did it! ...Wait, who are some of the other names on there?

Crafty: As long as it gets the job done, it shouldn't matter.

Picky: Well, let's go get that petition forwarded to the government!

OMT!Tails waved to Crafty to wish her good luck, to which she waved back, feeling confident that her aim to ban AI art could successfully go through. With that, the two heroes continued high-fiving the crowd members.

Bystander 1: Yeah, thanks, Tails and Ghost!

OMT!Tails: Yeah, I'm the new hero, at your service!

Bystander 2: Woo! You go, guys!

At the far end, OMT!Tails and Kaede shared a high-five.

Kaede: You go ahead and have your well-earned break, Tails. You really deserve it!

OMT!Tails: Heh, come on, Kaede. You deserve it too.

Max came by with Luna.

Luna: Heh, he's right, honey. You and Tails have worked so hard this week to save us all, and you definitely deserve some time out.

Max: Yeah! To me, it doesn't matter what style you are, you'll always be my big sis AND hero, Kaede.

Kaede smiled while tearing up, hugging both of her loved ones close.

Kaede: Aww, come here!

Max: Hehehe!

OMT!Tails returned to his friends, holding Sally's hand.

OMT!Sally: How about a trip to Balloon Park as a treat?

OMT!Tails: Of course!

OMT!Cream: Yay!

They headed off together as OMT!Knuckles and OMT!Amy watched, alongside OMT!Robotnik from afar. The multiverse was saved, and they were all proud of OMT!Tails for making that big step and becoming a hero in his own right.

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Party Night - Sarah Reese x Reader - Chicago Med/One Chicago

Request: Request (feel free to combine this with others if you feel it fits) but Reese picks the reader up like fireman carry and the reader is squealing and squirming like "Sarah! Put me down! Your noodle arms are gonna drop me!" While Sarah is just laughing her head off

A grimace crossed the girl’s face as she stepped into the party atmosphere, giving Ava and Nat forced smiles as she passed them, only her goal on her mind.

Finding you in the crowd of Connor’s party.

April waved as Sarah walked by her, raising an eyebrow as she watched Sarah reject the offering from Connor of a drink, instead asking him something that had him pointing out past where a lot of Firehouse 51 were partying.

“Connor, what’s wrong with Sarah?” April called out over the music, grabbing Connor’s attention as he raised his voice over the tunes too.

“She’s trying to find Y/n!”

April nodded, watching as Will all but whisked Connor away. whilst Sarah headed towards the area Connor pointed out, trying to spot you through the bright dancing lights that lit up the darkness.

Sarah knew what you were wearing from the Instagram photo you’d posted. Fishnets and glowsticks included. She wasn’t going to tell you how red her face got at your post, ever. Glancing around the room there was no sign of you where Connor had said he’d last seen you.

“Hey, Sarah!” Noah waved her over, any attempts for her to dance with him failing as Sarah cut to the chase.

“Have you seen Y/n?”

“Y/n? Really? Um, I think they were outside by the pool getting some fresh air.” Noah explained, pointing towards the back doors that lead to said pool, the music quietening down slightly, but not much.

Sarah nodded, heading outside as she spotted Sylvie, Kim, and Hailey by the hot tub.

“Sarah? Hey, Sarah! We didn’t know you were coming; Y/n was whining about…” Kim covered Sylvie’s lips as she realised Sylvie on bubblegum vodka meant she was rather loose lipped.

“Have you seen Y/n? Feels like I’ve been searching this entire place for them.” Sarah let out a sigh, walking over to the three women.

“They went to request a song, then said they were going to get another drink, since they didn’t think you would come tonight.” Nat explained, smiling slightly as a song began to play over the speakers.

“Pretty sure that’s the song Y/n requested, so they’ve probably gone back to the bar… or kitchen, since this is a glorified house party for Connor’s birthday.” Nat elaborated as Sarah turned her head to listen to the lyrics in more detail.

🎵 “Lights are off, music is on, minds are unlocked, this feeling is amazing…” 🎵

Sarah cleared her throat, recalling the rest of the lyrics as her ears burned a fiery red.

“I’m going to go… find them…” Sarah stammered over her words, tongue twisting as she wondered why you had chosen that song, of all the songs you could have picked.

///

The lyrics were on repeat in Sarah’s mind as she walked through the house, heading towards where Kim had told her the kitchen was.

There you were.

Sat at the counter, sipping from a red solo cup. Glowsticks around your wrists, contrasting your fishnets nicely, along with the choker around your neck.

“I finally found you!” Sarah called out over the music, smiling widely as you turned to her.

“You’re here- whoah!” You yelped, slipping slightly before Sarah caught you, her arms around your waist as your hands went to her shoulders, the two of you staring at each other as the song continued to play.

🎵 “This feeling is amazing, hands on your waist, liquor is all we taste, your freckles lead the way, I trace the constellations, I trace the constellations…” 🎵

“How much have you had to drink?” Sarah asked over the music, her eyes flickering to the red solo cup that was previously yours and how you had stumbled slightly.

“That was Fanta. Last time I had anything alcoholic was two hours ago…” You explained, dumping out the cup in the sink as your other hand remained on Sarah’s shoulder, Sarah’s hands still on your hips as a mischievous smirk creeped onto her face.

“What are you smirking about- oh my god!” You yelled as Sarah picked you up, heading outside to where she had last seen Kim, Sylvie, and Nat.

“Sarah! Put me down! Your noodle arms are going to drop me! No, no, please not the pool!” You squealed, squirming slightly as you spotted the pool’s glow in the corner of your eye.

“I’m not dropping you in the pool, silly!” Sarah laughed, plopping you down on the empty sunbed as Kim, Sylvie and Nat laughed at the sight of the two of you.

“Surprised you didn’t carry them home.” Kim teased, knowing about your crush on the psychiatry resident as you pouted.

“You scared me.”

“I wouldn’t drop you in the pool, Y/n. It would ruin your outfit.” Sarah cooed, removing an eyelash from your cheek without a second thought, whilst your face went warm under Sarah’s touch.

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight.” You quietly admitted when Kim, Sylvie and Nat had left to go get more drinks.

“You were here. I saw your Instagram post. I came for you.” Sarah explained, her pinky finger brushing yours as the two of you sat on the sunbed, talking like nobody else was around.

“Do you want to go watch a movie at my place? It’s a lot quieter than this…” You asked, your nose crinkling up as you glanced around the chaos.

“That sounds nice, but do you think Connor will mind?”

“This party wasn’t even Connor’s idea; it was Will’s idea of a surprise party.” You elaborated, standing up and taking Sarah’s hand.

“Ava was my ride here, I’ll text her and say I’m leaving with you… you drove here, right?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s over here.” Sarah pointed out her car, the two of you walking over to it as Sarah entered in your address to the GPS.

Your soft smile was hidden in the darkness as Sarah focussed on driving in the dark to your place, whilst you watched her with your bottom lip between your teeth.

///

Ava: you left with Sarah? I require details!

Y/n: we watched a movie then both fell asleep on the couch?

Ava: wow, Y/n, just wow

Y/n: what? What am I missing here?

Ava rolled her eyes as she left you on read.

“Completely oblivious…”

[pumpkinpot]

Jealousy turned submissive

A/n: Hi! this is my first post, I am sorry for any grammar errors. Yes, he calls us Little Crow. i thought it was cUTe. enjoy. 

Tag warnings: this is smut. use of vibrator, Y/N dom themes, jealous themes, 

*

*

Y/n," I say, offering my hand.

The man takes it in his with a firm shake. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Cooper," he announces over booming club music. "you look as bored as I feel," gesturing to my now flat soda and open laptop. “What are you doing in a place like this?”

The setup does give off that feel. As I suppose, was proposed, but his company is appreciated. You can only monotonously skim Pinterest for so long. “I’m waiting for someone to finish their weekly chores.”

“Ah,” he confirms, “Bartender or dancer?” 

“Neither.” 

Over the next hour, I learn my new friend is a recently widowed father who was dragged out by his friends but isn’t quite ready to start dating. He spends my attention showing off pictures of his wife and toddler son. The conversation comes easy, I tell him about my most recent publication, only for him to reveal his wife's affinity for my work. 

Cooper and I shuffle along the outskirts of the crowd to the bar to refill our non-alcoholic drinks. Along the way, he sneaks subtle cheers at his friends to ease their prying excitement while I slip winks at my secret date at the catch of his eye. 

“So, why aren’t you out with your date?” Cooper asks. 

“I’m not the public type. His job forces him to be, I’m here for moral support, but from a

distance.”

“Ah, so he’s a hero?” 

As the question mark finishes drying at the end of his sentence I feel a soft trail draw down the side of my neck. 

Warmth presses against my back, the feather suspended at the crook of my chest. 

“Don’t let me interrupt,” comes a grating voice from behind me. 

One look at Cooper's face says the look on Hawks is not a friendly one. Without a glance back I slip my hand around my boyfriend's waist, pulling him to my side. 

“Cooper,” I greet, “this is Hawks.”

His wing extends possessively around my shoulder, every feather fanned in attention. I work my hand under the seam of Keigo's silk black shirt delicately trailing a finger up the joint of his left-wing. His knees nearly buckle at the touch, his grip of anger forcibly stripped from his body. 

“Nice to meet you, my wife and I were really big fans.”

“Really," Hawks confirms, "Where is your wife?” 

“-Okay,” I interrupt before more can be said. “Hawks, shall we head home?”

I exchange a brief apologetic goodbye with Cooper before leading hawks out the back gate.

I am yet from the club's threshold when Hawks sweeps me into his arms, taking flight. I choke on profanities swallowed down with two AM air.  

Keigo says no words the entire way home, only sparing me a glance to set me properly on our balcony, yet he waits not for my legs to stop shaking before pulling me against the glass of the sliding door. 

“You made me very jealous tonight my little crow.” He whispers, slipping a hand around the curve of my waist.  “Watching you talk and smile with that man all night, drove me crazy. You’re lucky I-” One hand around my wrists. "-had work to do tonight or-" the other he tugs up my dress. "-you'd gotten this punishment much sooner. 

I allow him to take me as he wishes. hiking my legs along the curve of his hips as he pulls me into our bedroom and stripes me. He takes his time to leave small lovebites along my collarbone and inner thigh, marking me as his. 

I allow him to slip his cock between my lips, even gag a few times just to see the power well in his eyes. 

He teases my cunt, drawing circles around my clit a string of possessive promises tumbling from jealous lips.

At the softest whimper, he loses control, slipping inside of me starved by his own punishment.

He pushes further into me hungrily, pulling my arms around him and kissing me with a consuming desire. The familiar shutter of his wings announces he's near climax.

Heaves come in broken commas of release, his wings sweeping behind him, slacking in exhaustion. 

"Keigo," I whisper, through the wave of his orgasm. 

"Hmm," he answers through a kiss. He sets inside of me, pumping slowly through the deflation of his erection. 

"what's our safe word?" 

His body tenses under the question and he pulls back slightly, "what?" 

"Our safe-word, what is it?" I say, slowly moving to straddle his lap.

"Pomegranate, why?"

"Hmm, remember that."

I slip a silicone vibe over my fingertips while distracting him with a drunken kiss. 

I dance my fingers under the curve of his wing joints before turning on the oscillation.

A broken whimper tumbles from his slacked jar. He digs temporary grooves into my back, burying his face into my shoulder.

"Ah, baby-"

"Now that you're reveling in your oversensitivity," I whisper, "you're going to answer some questions for me, understand?"

His deflation comes to a halt, blood rushing back to his groin. "little cr-"

"understand?" I say, upping the vibration. 

He stifles an outcry between his teeth, nodding, "y-yes-"

"yes what?"

"Yes, mistress-"

 He presses his hips up into mine, soaking any relief my clenched thighs allow.

"You embarrassed me tonight." I affirm, "you asked me to be there and paid me no mind all night."

My fingers weave the roots of his feathers not yet to touch the joint itself.

"Fuck.” He moans, “baby I-"

"Stop talking," I command, stiffing another attempt at a thrust. cockwarming inside of me I begin to massage the connection of feathers to the nexus.

His moans fall to feeble whimpers and broken expletives.

 "Keigo, do you think I would allow anyone to come between me, and this?" I ask, giving one full-length, slow thrust. 

I bite back my own moan with a tighter grip on his wing, refusing him any power at that moment. 

He pulls my shoulder between his teeth, suppressing a gasp. 

“No, no, look at me,” I say, using my unoccupied hand to lift his chin level with mine. “What came over you to believe I would entertain the idea of a mere man taking away what I have here.”

“But he-” 

I raise my hips, pulling off him nearly completely, only the head of his cock breaching my insides. He fights against my hips, pleading kisses being left across my chest. 

“I didn’t ask about him, I asked about me." I slip back onto him not forgoing my own pleasure for his mistake. "Answer the question.” I grid just enough to grant to feel his stubble tickle my clit but not enough for him to get any real reprieve.

Nail marks decorate my arms and no doubt my back. his fight to stay in control slipping from his grasp. 

“I should have trusted,” He breathes, “I-I’m sorry” another heave, “please let me-”

I pull up once again, undulating the tip to pull him further from his orgasm and keep him teetering on insanity. 

  “Little crow please I need-"

My nails scrape against his scape as I pull his head back by the roots of his hair. His chin tips to the ceiling and I take my time to lick up his ear before pulling the lobe between my teeth. “You ever act out like that again, I’ll fuck you until you cry.” 

He gives as much of a nod as he can, collapsing into a fit of hungry thrusts as my hips open to him. 

[badassbiburgerbob]

Hogans Hero’s fic. As part of a fun writing game on discord, but I thought I'd post it here too. 😄

Before I start here is the link to the server!

Klogan Prompt: "Oh fuck. Oh fuck"

Klink exited the bar and sighed. Why did he see that man everywhere he went? The night air was much colder tonight than he had expected. But the chill that shot down his spine had nothing to do with that.

He watched as a G4 stopped across the street. Burkhalter pulled himself out and slammed the car door. He glared at Major Hochstetter, who was now standing beside him. They argued briefly before the Major seemed to falter and fall silent.

Klink shivered. Not now. Scheiße! What are they doing here? They weren’t due until next week. Was zum Teufe. Why does everything always have to be so damn complicated?

A man in black stalked around the car and stood beside the General. He was more of a shadow, standing just outside the halo cast by the streetlamp. His scarlet red armband seemed to glow in the dark.

Schutzstaffel. But why was he here? The man stepped into the lamplight and spoke to Burkhalter. Klinks heart froze. Colonel Alexander Sauer. A rising star in the SS. He was quickly becoming known for his ruthless disregard for life and fastidious loyalty to the Führer. And even that was an understatement for how dangerous the man was.

Sauer had a short word with Hochstetter and motioned toward the bar.

Klinks eyes went wide. Terror settled in his gut. Oh Fuck. Oh Fuck!

Hogan! Hochstetter would definitely recognize him. All he'd have to do was mention that he thought Hogan was an underground agent and Sauer would zero in on him like a nuclear misile. Hochstetter and Sauer would probably take turns torturing Hogan just for laughs.

Klink spun on his heels rushed back inside. He pushed himself through the crowded entryway and with a quick scan of the room he found Hogan, dressed in a white overcoat with glasses a grey trilby. He had his arms around the barmaid, giving her that devilish grin of his. She placed a small note (probably a phone number or adress) into the breast pocket of his overcoat and spun away with a wink. Klink nearly tripped as he hurried over to Hogan, stopping momentarily to grab his hand before dragging him past the bar and into the supply room.

"Was ist das?" Hogan protested, "wissen Sie, wer ich bin?!" *what is this? Do you know who i am?!*

Klink shoved him further into the room and cracked the door open. He could just see the dining area, and Burkhalter snapping something at the Gestapo Major. They sat and were joined by Sauer and one of his SS lackies. Apparently they hadn't seen Klink or Hogan. Thank heavens.

He turned back to the disguised American.

"Gut? antworte mir, Dummkof!" He spat. *well? Answer me dummkof!*

"Oh drop the act, Hogan," Klink retorted even though his heart was racing, "I know it's you."

Hogan did not drop the act. He started berating klink, with a stern low voice. Something about being a high-end business man in between very important deals with Himmler and Goering. Klink had stopped paying attention halfway through.

He studied the man's face, worried that maybe he had been wrong. But no, this was definitely Hogan. All the marks and curves... the lips. And that grin he'd seen earlier. The man hid his voice with a faked accent, but it was still Hogan. Although Klink had to admit, he was a good actor.

Klink tuned back in to what Hogan was ranting about.

"Get out of my way or I will have you shot!" Hogan ordered sharply.

"Mein Gott, Hogan," Klink replied exasperated. "You can explain all of this," he gestured vaguely to hogan's costume, "later. And I will want a full explanation." He walked back to the storage room door and peared out at the table. The barmaid was just dropping off their first round of drinks. "But now, at this very moment, you are in terrible danger."

Hogan's glower faded, replaced by pursed lipped confusion.

Klink sighed. "On the other side of this door, enjoying a wonderful evening of beer and schnapps, is General Burkhalter, Major Hochstetter, and Colonel Sauer. Und if they see you... that's a nightmare I'd rather not adress." An image of a bloodied Hogan stuck itself in his head. He hated the whole idea. His chest tightened and for a moment he couldn't breathe. They couldn't get Hogon. Klink wouldn't let them.

Hogans persona evaporated. "Colonel Sauer? The Beast of Berlin? Now that sounds like a party." He gave Klink one if his mischievous smiles.

"Hogan.." he warned. "Don't miss the point."

"I didn't know you cared Colonel." He took a step towards Klink. And the door.

"Of course I care. Why wouldn't I?"

Hogan froze and blinked at him. "Why would you?"

"Well... I..." Klink had never thought of that. There was just something about the American that pulled him in. He hadn't seriously questioned it before. He shook his head. Now was not the time for this. "Nevermind that!" He waved frantically, as if he could simply shoo that problem away. Truthfully, Klink didnt want to think about it. The way he felt about Colonel Hogan made him uncomfortable. It was forbidden. Hogan was the enemy. A particularly irritating troublemaker with great hair and gorgeous eyes and that stupid, wonderful, impish smile. And if anything happened to him...

"Scheiße," he cursed to himself. He looked back to Hogan "Now is not the time for this!"

"Oh! I know! Let's go crash the party," he said with a wide grin and started again for the door "It'll be fun."

"What? No!" He pushed Hogan back. "Did you not hear a single word that I said?" He asked incredulously. His chest tightened further and panic settled in his bones. "You can not go out there! It is too dangerous. Those men are ruthless and If they see you-"

"They won't see me."

"They're sitting right there!"

"So, I'll sneak around. I'm quiet like a mouse ya know."

"These aren't stupid men, Hogan. They will see you. And then what?"

"I'll just tell them what I told you. Only this time it'll be more convincing. I promise."

"Hogan, I don't think you understand."

"Nonsense! Let's just give it a shot. What's the worst that could-"

"Nein! Verdammt!" He felt sick, but he couldn't let it happen. "For once, just this once will you listen to me?! Listen to me, Hogan." He clenched his fists to keep them from shaking. "You can't go out there. You can't. I won't allow it! Not with all three of them. Those men," he pointed angrily at the door, "alone they are dangerous at best! But together they are a death sentence! They're already dissatisfied for God knows what reason, and are more than likely looking for some sorry soul to maim and shoot! And if you go out there, Burkhalter or Hochstetter, or both, are going to recognize you, just like I did! And they are going to drag you to the deepest, darkest basement they can find and beat the life out of you looking for answers that you won't give them, because that's who you are, and when they can't get those answers, they're going to put a bullet between your eyes and toss you aside like trash! And I won't allow it!" He finished his rant, pink faced and chest heaving. The shaking had run from his hands up to his shoulders. Hogan didn't understand. There was no sneaking by or talking his way around them. If there had only been one of them, maybe. After all, Hogan had already proven himself a talented liar. But idiots they were not. Especially Colonel Sauer. Even Hogan couldn't face them all at once. God why wouldn't he listen?

Hogan stood in shocked silence for a few long moments before stepping closer. "Klink... I... well." He sighed. It was a rare moment for him to be lost for words. He tapped his fist on his chin, thinking.

As if he was still scheming.

Klink sighed, anger fading into tired desperation. "Hogan, please. I can't-" he cut himself off and stared up Hogan. I can't Lose you. Lose him... Hogan wasn't even his to lose. But still. "Just... please don't go." It came out as almost a whisper.

Hogan gave Klink a gentle smile "Alright Klink," he said softly with a gentle nod. He then threw an arm around Klinks shoulders. "If it means that much to you. I suppose we can have a party of our own right here." He gestured to the rest of the room and gave Klink a sturdy pat on the back.

They made a makeshift table with one of the larger containers and each pulled over a smaller box to sit on.

They sat in silence for a while before Hogan stirred up the conversation. "So Colonel, " he started, "we gonna talk about all that?" He gestured at Klink.

"All of what?"

"You know, the outburst," he stated with a half hearted shrug, "or the very colorful way you predicted my demise?"

Klink was startled by the proposition. He'd much rather forget it ever happened at all. "How about we start with you, hmm?"

"You're deflecting, sir." He shot Klink an amused grin.

Klink returned a wide smile. "Yes I am." He folded his hands on top of the makeshift table. "What are you doing here Hogan?"

"A fun night on the town?" He offered.

"Try again."

“A date with a pretty Fraulein.”

Klink glared at him suspiciously. He raised an eyebrow. He didn’t believe Hogan. But he also knew that Hogan wasn’t going to tell him the truth. Klink may have been a coward but he wasn’t stupid. He sighed. A date was as good a reason as any. “fine,” he grumbled.

“My turn.” Hogan stated cheerfully. He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.

“What?” Klink wasn’t expecting that.

“My turn.” He repeated with a grin. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t have any real official reason. He didn’t have any vacation days or passes. That’s why he snuck out in civilian clothes. He technically wasn’t supposed to be her either. “One evening off.” He said finally. “I felt I needed just one evening to relax. A drink, a small chat, maybe. Maybe a kiss or something along those lines.”

“Aw, aren’t you just a heartless romantic.”

“Hopeless.”

“Either way.”

Klink glowered at him. “You’re terrible.”

“I know,” Hogan sighed. He looked back up at Klink, “so, you were hoping for a good time.”

“More or less,” Klink shrugged.

Hogan leaned forward, “Well, Colonel,” he reached across the table and placed hand on one of Klink’s, “the night is still young.”

~fin~

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [2]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

➜ Words: 2.2k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

“In this recipe, we’re using baking soda instead of baking powder. Why? Does anyone remember the reason when we talked about our recipe of mille-feuille?”   You’re twirling your pen in your hand, bored out of your mind while someone answers that baking soda doesn’t have the acid that baking powder would normally add and how baking soda has much stronger leavening power than baking powder.   Theory has never been your area of expertise. You’ve always preferred to do the actual baking and go through trial and error than learning through the textbook. So with your mind wandering and from fear of falling asleep, you pull out your phone to text Seokjin. He’s been answering your texts slower these days.   “Alright, next class we’ll put our hands to work in the kitchen. Don’t pack up yet! I got some emails asking about the midterm so I just wanted to answer those questions here! Yes, it will be a collaborative exam and you can re-make anything that we’ve learned thus far in the semester. Baking is all about working together, so before I leave, I’ll post who everyone’s partners are. Come down and take a look before you go.”   With the lecture finished, you pack up your belongings, shoving it all into your bag and swinging the strap over your shoulder to walk down the steps. It’s crowded already, but as people filter out, you’re able to get ahead to look at the paper.   And as luck would have — you’re partnered with Jeon Jungkook.   It’s outrageous. As if having the same internship for three months wasn’t enough, now he’s your midterm partner.   You spin around to the teacher, beelining straight to him. But Jeon Jungkook beats you to it.   “Is there a possible way I can switch my partner?”   “I second that.” For once, you back him up. It’s probably the only thing you can agree on.   Jungkook looks to you before redirecting his attention back at the man who has his brow quirked. “Is there a legitimate reason?”   “Umm….”   “Our schedules don’t align,” Jungkook lies without batting a lash.   “Yeah.” You nod. “He has classes when I don’t and uh, he’s working on different projects when I have work….”   “It would be more convenient if we had different partners.”   “Wow, you two figured out you have incompatible schedules a minute into finding out you’re partners? Well, I’m sure you two can work something out.” Mr. Chu smiles, overly positive in a way that irks you. “Things have a way of working themselves out.”   In these circumstances, you’re not too sure about that.   Jungkook swallows hard, finding whatever excuse he can. “I’m afraid Y/N won’t pull her weight.”   “Excuse me?!” You can’t believe he blatantly threw you under the bus in front of your face. “That’s completely untrue! He won’t be able to pull his weight.”   “We’re just incompatible partners.” Jungkook outright ignores you. “I am happy to work with anyone, Mr. Chu. Just not her. Park Jimin said he would be fine to switch his partner and work with me.” He hitches a thumb over his shoulder to his timid friend standing near the door who realizes he’s being talked about and gives a polite wave.   Yet, the teacher gives a long sigh. “Look, you two. I know there’s bad blood between you both but wouldn’t this be a great opportunity to overcome that like the adults that you are?”   “I—”   “Mr. Chu—”   “I’m sorry, but there won’t be any switching.” He shakes his head. “Often times, you can’t choose who you work with in the real world. You just have to get over it and be professional. Learn a two or thing from that. That’s the point of this midterm. If there are concerns about the project, then you can visit my office hours. Otherwise, you’ll be working together and that’s final.”   It’s official. You hate your fine pastries class — and it used to be your favourite too.   “Fuck. Fuck,” he’s muttering, kicking the gravel from underneath his feet. You approach him with crossed arms.   “You don’t have to keep saying it.”   “What? That this fucking sucks?”   “Look, I don’t like you anymore than you like me. You don’t have to make it harder than it needs to be.”   “Oh yeah? You want to make it less hard? How about you stop existing then.”   “Okay, fuck you, Johnson. Stop pouting like you’re fucking four years old. Are we going to talk about the project or do you want to flunk?”   “Stop calling me Johnson.”   “Or else what?”   Jungkook rolls his eyes. “You’re so childish.”   “I’m the childish one?” you scoff in disbelief. “I’m not the one practically throwing a tantrum.”   “Whatever. But what’s there to talk about? We’ll make carrot cake.”   “What the hell?” You’re appalled. He’s not even going to ask you? “No, we’ll make the charlotte royale.”   “No, you idiot.” He pinches the bridge of his nose.   You scoff again. This was absolutely unbelievable. It’s a shame that no one’s listening into this conversation — there’s no way you would be able to retell just how absurd this was. “Did you just call me an idiot?”   “Yes, carrot’s the easiest. We’ll get it done and over with.”   “I don’t want to get it done and over with.” You point right at him. “Unlike you, I care about my grades, okay? So what if it’s easy? It won’t get us the marks we need.”   “Since when did you care about your grades?”   “Okay, fuck off, Jeon.”   Having enough of him, you decide to walk away but Jungkook soon calls out after you. “Are you going to give me your phone number?”   You’re horrified enough to spin around and regard him with a disgusted expression. “What? No!”   “For the project, you dumbass. You think I’m asking because I want to know?”   You roll your eyes to the back of your skull and close the distance with three strides again. Surprisingly, the both of you civilly exchange contact information without ripping each other’s heads off but you don’t want to be with him longer than you need to. “When are we going to meet up? We should decide so I don’t have to text you.”   “I’m fine with whenever.”   “Tomorrow then.”   “Sure.”   You leave already texting Jin your grievances. He doesn’t answer since he’s so busy, but you’re ready to unload.   //   The next day comes too quickly.   The first person you see in the morning is the last person you ever want to see — and Jungkook isn’t amused either. He regards you with a lazy gaze, dark circles, oversized black hoodie and jeans that he probably picked up off his floor and put on after giving a good sniff.   Other partners are already in the kitchen figuring out their recipes, but you have yet to decide what to make. You swear the asshat is just disagreeing with you to make it harder and more miserable.   “What don’t you understand? What you’re asking for is too unreasonable.”   “Really? You think whipping meringue by hand is too difficult? Maybe you shouldn’t be baking then, Jeon.”   “It’s time consuming,” he groans and rubs his temple. “And it’s not worth it. If you want to spend your time doing something impressive than we should make something like fucking I don’t know, Napoleon cake and call it a day.”   “Okay, sounds good to me.”   “What? Actually?”   “I don’t see why not. You can make the puff pastry while I make the custard. We assemble together.”   “You make it sound easier than it’ll be, but fine. We can meet up tonight. What, don’t give me that look. It’s not like you’re busy. And spending time with your boyfriend doesn’t constitute as being busy. The sooner we get this done, the sooner it’s over.”   “Fine. How about eight?”   “Seven thirty. See you then.”   You’re exasperated. He’s a jerk. And you go on your way while shaking your head.   8:21 am. Y/N: still cant believe my luck   5:43 pm. Seokjin: Hey where are you?  5:44 pm. Seokjin: We should meet

Jungkook lives his life precariously. He is flexible and follows his instincts. That’s not to say he’s irresponsible, reckless or that he’s fickle. He’s adaptable and it’s the reason why he started baking anyways — a whim that he fell in love with. 

  Jungkook prefers to go with his gut feeling than plan every step of the way. And it’s his gut feeling that tells him you’re nothing but an absolute headache.   “Let me suck on your muffin.”   Yoongi’s expression dies, washing over into an impassive state. “Say that again, Kim, and I’ll never bring my extra muffins again.” Taehyung whines on the couch while Jimin laughs. Yoongi looks over at Jungkook. “Hey, want one, Kook?”   He tosses him a blueberry muffin anyhow but Jungkook chucks it at Hoseok who catches it in both hands, almost missing. “Nah. What time is it? I gotta go.”   “Where are you going on a Friday night at seven?”   “Ooh, it’s a date, isn’t it?” Taehyung grins. “What kind of girl?”   “Who is it?” Hoseok clarifies the question, cheek full of muffin. “I haven’t heard you talk about anyone ever.”   “He wishes.” Jimin giggles, have an inkling of where it was he was going.   “it’s not a date, dumbass. I have a meeting with my midterm project partner.”   “Damn,” Yoongi comments, biting into the muffin he baked earlier in class. “That’s rough.”   “His partner’s Y/N,” Jimin says with a sparkle in his eye, watching Jungkook get up from the couch.   Taehyung’s eyes bulge. They nearly fall out of their sockets and he wheezes, pounding his chest as part of the muffin stuck in his gullet. “You’re partners with that psycho bitch?”   “Yeah.” The youngest of all of them sighs. “I couldn’t change.”   Jungkook walks past, but Yoongi stops him, plopping a hand on his shoulder. The usually cold man seems sympathetic for once and holds up his muffin. “Are you sure you don’t want one?”   He dreads it — having to ditch his friends on a Friday night and the warmth of his dorm room. All in exchange for the chilly wind outside and the empty kitchens that’re eerie without souls inside them, just metal bowls and silver appliances. But Jungkook drags himself there anyway.    He’s ten minutes early since he’s not one to leave people waiting.    But when seven thirty eventually rolls around, you’re nowhere in sight.   7:34 pm. Jungkook: Are you coming or not   He waits for an additional twenty minutes, sitting on the stool, playing games on his phone. Then he realizes the time and gets started anyhow. The puff pastry always takes longer to make anyways. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t frustrated — Jungkook’s frankly pissed off and if you decided to ditch him, you’ll have one or two things coming, that’s for sure.   Jungkook beats two ounces of butter with a tablespoon of sugar. Then he folds in two beaten eggs, one tablespoon vinegar, cold water, three tablespoons of vodka, and salt. He folds in the two and a half cups of flour and forms a dough in his hands until it’s soft and pliable.    Right when he wraps the bowl in plastic and slides it into the fridge to chill for an hour, the door to the kitchen opens.   “You’re late.”   You’re not even dressed in an apron nor is your hair tied back like it’s supposed to be but he doesn’t comment.   “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you? It’s been an hour and I’m done my part.”   Silence.   You don’t respond. Jungkook scoffs.   It was a new low for you to give him the silent treatment when you’re the late one. Your head is downcasted, facing away from him, giving him the cold shoulder. You don’t spare him one glance as you go over to the fridge, pulling out eggs, sugar, flour, milk, vanilla beans, and butter.   You pour milk into the saucepan haphazardly and it splashes everywhere on the counter.   “Hey, watch it!”    Jungkook rips the carton away from your hands. He didn’t know you were this much of an amateur.   He watches you in mortification as you move to the flour bag, scooping out a whole cup instead of six tablespoons. He wonders if you had a stroke. “Y/N, you’re supposed to do the eggs next. What the hell is wrong with—”   You burst into tears.    Jungkook’s heart stutters. He pales. He freezes in place. He feels his entire body go rigid.    And his brain breaks.   …..   What.   Tears. Full on tears are streaming down your face. You’re wailing, covering your face with your floured hands and crying into them. Your entire frame shakes as devastation wrecks through your entire body. He’s never seen you look so small before. He’s never seen you cry.   Jungkook puts milk down, swallowing hard. He watches you with eyes as big as saucers. “I...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”   You sob. “J-Jin brok..e up w-with m...e.”

[letsnotandsaywewantedto]

No brownies, only pie tonight. <3 Hubby is picking up the kiddo from practice, so I don’t have to miss the first few minutes. Do we have an over-under on Travis getting a character tonight? 

- During Sam’s ad, Matt laments that he’s ‘lost control’. Sweetie, that ship sailed years ago! (Also, watching Robbie touch the business end of the toothbrush right after Travis turned it on, and then freak out and yeet it off the table was *chef’s kiss*.)

- {omg, this pie is amazing. did i mention my dad said he likes my pumpkin pie better than my mom’s?}

- THEME SONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

- awww. it’s classic CR cheesiness <3

- L’otters are not afraid!

- Laudna shouts “fire” in a crowded theatre! {if you are unfamiliar with the actual history of the “fire in a crowded theater” supreme court case, context can be found here. i highly recommend checking it out, especially if you live in the US.}

- Hey, Sam is a real cleric!

- ashley is very my favorite

- fucking theatre kids

- Scanlan gets a name drop!

- how long will Matt keep up the “what are you” routine? 

- Fucking Theatre Kids

- Faun describes Laudna as “gorgeous” because Ashley will romance Marisha’s character, damnit!

- FUCKING THEATRE KIDS

- Liam giggles about rerolling ones. Bet that continues the entire campaign.

- faun: I WANT SOMETHING

- “i’M GoiNg tO tAKe iT”

- {i forgot that my plate was sitting on the windowsill, but mischief didn’t. now he’s licking whipped cream off his whiskers!}

- {i thought he wanted to cuddle, when he jumped up here!}

- Laura can’t read her die, but Ashley can!

- {trouble jumped into my lap, headbutted my chin, purred in my ear, and then jumped back down. he wasn’t just using me for my plate!}

- “i’m gonna look in the hole. it’s my turn.”

- “get into her head space” *fluff’s hair* “i’m unhappy in my marriage.”

No joke, MIL just texted that she got locked out of the theater without her car key, and she’s not answering her phone. I think I’m going to have to go rescue her. Um, guess I’ll catch the rest of the ep on Monday?

P.S. In my rush to get out the door, I didn’t hit post, so I guess I’ll add that MIL was very cold (it was 36F when I arrived at the theater), but I did find her and give her a ride home. I assume FIL was in bed, but it’s possible he had taken his car and was out looking for her when I dropped her off, but at that point, not my monkey, not my circus. CR is still on, but I’ll wait for Monday, since I’ve missed over an hour.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

July 25, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

Both Democratic Senator Mark Warner of Virginia and Republican Senator Rob Portman of Ohio told television hosts today that they expect an infrastructure deal on the $579 billion bill this week. Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY) has said that he will delay the Senate’s upcoming recess until this bipartisan bill and another, larger bill that focuses on human infrastructure are passed. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-CA) says she will not hold a vote on the smaller infrastructure bill until the larger bill, which is a priority for Democrats, passes the Senate.

There are a lot of moving pieces in this infrastructure bill that have more to do with politics than with infrastructure.

First, what is holding up the bill in the Senate is a disagreement about the proper ratio of funding for roads and public transportation. When Congress passed the Federal-Aid Highway Act in 1956, starting the creation of 41,000 miles of interstate highways, lawmakers thought that gasoline taxes would pay for the construction and upkeep of the highways. Congress raised the gas tax four times, in 1959, 1983, 1990, and 1993. But, beginning in 2008, as fuel efficiency went up, the gas tax no longer covered expenses. Congress made up shortfalls with money from general funds.

In 1983, in order to gain support for an increase of $.05 in the gas tax from lawmakers from the Northeast who wanted money for mass transit, Congress agreed to establish a separate fund for public transportation that would get one out of every five cents collected from the gas tax. This 80% to 20% ratio has lasted ever since.

Now, Republican negotiators are demanding less money for public transportation and more for roads, sparking outrage from Democrats who note that a bipartisan agreement has stood for almost 40 years and that changing the ratio between public transportation and roads will move us backward. According to the Environmental Protection Agency, in 2019, fossil fuels used in transportation produced 29% of U.S. greenhouse gases.

Portman, the lead Republican negotiator, says that Republicans have made a “generous offer” and that it will provide a “significant increase” in transit money. "Democrats, frankly, are not being reasonable in their requests right now,” he said.

Republicans want to deliver money to rural areas where people depend on driving, even though there are far more people who live in areas that benefit from public transportation. Rural areas, of course, are far more likely than urban areas to be full of Republican voters.

Democrats in the House are eager to address climate change. On July 21, Chair of the House Committee on Transportation and Infrastructure Peter DeFazio (D-OR) and 30 Democratic members of the committee wrote to Pelosi and Schumer to urge them to include instead the terms of the INVEST in America Act the House passed on a bipartisan basis earlier this month. That bill offered a forward-looking transportation package that expanded public transportation even as it called for road and bridge repair. “We can’t afford to lock in failed highway-centric policies for another five years,” they wrote.

But there is a larger story behind this transportation bill than the attempt of Republicans to change a longstanding formula to keep themselves in power. Republicans who are not openly tying themselves to the former president want to pass this measure because they know it is popular and they do not want Democrats to pass another popular law alone, as they did with the American Rescue Plan when Republicans refused to participate.

Democratic leadership wants to work with those Republicans to pass a bipartisan bill because it will help to drive a wedge though the Republican Party, offering an exit ramp for those who would like to leave behind the increasing extremism of the Trump Republicans.

Trump Republicans are, indeed, becoming more extreme as the House’s select committee on January 6 takes shape. After the Senate rejected a bipartisan commission to investigate the insurrection, House Speaker Pelosi and the House voted to establish a select committee. Its structure was based on one of the many committees established by the Republican-controlled House to investigate the attack on U.S. government facilities in Benghazi, Libya, in 2012. It permitted the minority to name 5 members, to be approved by the Speaker.

Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy (R-CA) tried to undercut the committee by appointing three members who had challenged the counting of the certified votes on January 6, including Jim Jordan (R-OH), who was at a December meeting with Trump and other lawmakers when they discussed protesting the vote count on January 6, and Jim Banks (R-IN), who attacked the committee, saying: “Make no mistake, Nancy Pelosi created this committee solely to malign conservatives and to justify the Left’s authoritarian agenda.” When Pelosi rejected Jordan and Banks, McCarthy pulled all five of his appointees.

But Pelosi had already established the committee’s bipartisanship when she appointed Representative Liz Cheney (R-WY), a staunch Republican who voted with Trump more than 90% of the time but who openly blamed him for the January 6 insurrection. Today, Pelosi added Adam Kinzinger (R-IL) to the committee as well.

Kinzinger is an Iraq War veteran who was one of the 10 House Republicans who voted to impeach Trump in January. "Let me be clear, I'm a Republican dedicated to conservative values, but I swore an oath to uphold and defend the Constitution—and while this is not the position I expected to be in or sought out, when duty calls, I will always answer," Kinzinger said in a statement.

McCarthy promptly tweeted that the committee had no credibility because Pelosi had “structured the select committee to satisfy her political objectives.”

McCarthy is scrambling, not least because he will almost certainly become a witness for the committee.

But there is more. With Trump out of office, pressure is ramping up on those who advanced his agenda. News broke on Thursday that the FBI had received more than 4500 tips about Brett Kavanaugh during his nomination proceeding for confirmation to the Supreme Court, and had forwarded the most “relevant” of those to the White House lawyers, who buried them, enabling the extremist Kavanaugh to squeak into a lifetime appointment to the court.

In Georgia, law enforcement officers indicted 87 people in what they are calling the largest gang bust ever in the state. Seventy-seven are part of the “Ghostface Gangsters” gang of white supremacists whose network stretched from Georgia to South Carolina to Tennessee. “The gang’s culture, structure, leadership, chain of command, and all involved in the furtherance of this ongoing criminal enterprise have been charged,” law enforcement officers said.

Meanwhile, vaccinated Americans are becoming increasingly angry at the unvaccinated Trump supporters who are keeping the nation from achieving herd immunity from the coronavirus. Some Republicans are starting to call for their supporters to get vaccinated.

As pressure mounts, McCarthy is not the only one who has signed onto the post–January 6 Trump party who is ramping up his rhetoric. This weekend, when presented with a gun, Trump’s disgraced former National Security Adviser Michael Flynn told the crowd, “Maybe I’ll find somebody in Washington, D.C.”

Representative Paul Gosar (R-AZ), who has been linked to the planning for the January 6 insurrection, suggested at an Arizona rally for the former president last night that the rioters were peaceful and that the real criminals were “insiders from the FBI and DOJ.” It seems likely he is hoping to discredit those organizations before more information comes out.

At the same rally, the former president spoke for almost two hours, reiterating his lie that he won the 2020 election and suggesting he would be reinstated into the White House before the next election. (He was weirdly fixated on routers.) He blamed Arizona Governor Doug Ducey, Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, former Vice President Mike Pence, and Kavanaugh for his loss of the White House, and praised his former lawyer Rudy Giuliani.

“The radical left Democrat communist party rigged and stole the election,” he said.

A final note tonight: We lost a great American, Bob Moses, today. I don’t want to tack him on to tonight’s letter; he deserves his own. So hold this space. Until then, Rest in Power, Dr. Moses.

—-

Notes:

https://fas.org/sgp/crs/misc/R45350.pdf

https://www.epa.gov/ghgemissions/sources-greenhouse-gas-emissions

https://transportation.house.gov/news/press-releases/chair-defazio-leads-30-transportation-and-infrastructure-committee-members-in-urging-congressional-leadership-to-include-transformational-policies-from-the-invest-in-america-act-in-infrastructure-legislation

https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/congress/transit-money-emerges-last-major-obstacle-bipartisan-senate-infrastructure-deal-n1274788

https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/congress/senators-hopeful-bipartisan-infrastructure-spending-bill-could-land-monday-n1274960

https://www.npr.org/2021/07/25/1020464213/nancy-pelosi-adam-kinzinger-january-6-committee

Ron Filipkowski @RonFilipkowskiMichael Flynn is presented with a rifle as a gift in Yuba, CA, and says that now “maybe I’ll find somebody in Washington, DC.”  609 Retweets1,212 Likes

July 25th 2021

https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2021/01/13/ali-alexander-capitol-biggs-gosar/

Aaron Rupar @atruparRep. Paul Gosar turns reality on its head by portraying January 6 as a mostly peaceful affair, then pushes an absurd conspiracy theory that the real criminals on that day were "insiders from the FBI and DOJ" 1,182 Retweets4,650 Likes

July 24th 2021

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/07/22/us/politics/kavanaugh-fbi-investigation.html

https://www.wrdw.com/2021/07/22/georgia-gov-kemp-will-visit-augusta-discuss-large-scale-gang-bust/

https://www.politico.com/news/2021/07/24/trump-election-claims-rally-500719

https://www.wrdw.com/2021/07/23/87-locals-charged-biggest-gang-bust-state-history/

Aaron Rupar @atruparTrump has been speaking for more than 90 minutes now. He's currently goading his audience into booing the US women's soccer team. 735 Retweets3,061 Likes

July 25th 2021

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[bechloeislegit]

14 Days of BeChloe Valentines

DAY 13 - FINDING THE RIGHT GIRL 

Prompt Author: Beca proposes and gets told no because her girlfriend wasn't ready for marriage. They break up, and three months later she meets a girl who she falls for instantly, and she also comes face-to-face with her ex.

SPECIAL AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the time it took to get this posted. I wasn't feeling very motivated. I still owe you Day 14; not sure when that will be posted. Thanks for hanging in there with me.

It was a chilly day in mid-November as Beca Mitchell sat on the window seat with her knees to her chest, staring down at the engagement ring that she had spent months picking out. She wiped at a tear that ran down her cheek as she watched her now ex-girlfriend, Stacie, packing her stuff.

Beca had planned to propose on Christmas Day, but Stacie had found the ring, and they had argued. Stacie wasn't ready to be married no matter how much Beca claimed she loved Stacie.

"Beca," Stacie said. "I'm sorry it came to this. We were having so much fun and had a good thing going. Why would you want to ruin that by proposing?"

"Sorry, for thinking that the woman I loved might want to marry me," Beca said bitterly. "Just keep packing and get the fuck out."

Stacie sighed and walked over and sat on the window seat to face Beca. She went to put a hand on Beca's knee, and Beca jerked away from her.

"Don't touch me," Beca said and put her feet on the floor.

"Beca," Stacie said with a sigh from beside the smaller brunette. "We both know I'm not the marrying kind. We've had fun together. But, that's all it was for me - fun. I'm sorry you didn't see it for what it was."

"Just go," Beca said quietly.

"Will you help me take the boxes to my car?" Stacie asked.

"Nope," Beca said and stood and walked to the kitchen.

Stacie sighed and finished packing her last box and began taking everything to her car. Once she had loaded everything, she went into the house for the final time. She found Beca sitting at the kitchen counter with a bottle of water in front of her.

"Here are the keys to your house," Stacie said laying a key ring on the counter.

"That car you're driving is still mine," Beca said. "I want the keys to it."

"But, I-" Stacie started and stopped. "I'll need to use the car tonight. I'll have someone return the keys and the car tomorrow."

"Fine," Beca said glaring at the taller brunette. "Just make sure it's back here tomorrow, or I'll be forced to report it as stolen."

Stacie turned to leave and stopped. "If you find anything I've forgotten-"

"I'll burn it," Beca said.

Stacie nodded but didn't say anything. She turned and walked out of the kitchen. Beca remained seated at the counter. Even with two other rooms between her and the front door, she could hear the soft click of it as Stacie shut it for the final time.

~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day 13~~

It was a Friday in early February, and Beca was DJing at one of her favorite clubs. She looked out over the crowd and smiled at how many people were on the dance floor. Beca turned when she heard someone at the door to the booth.

"What's up, CR?" Beca asked.

"I need to talk to you when you get a break," CR said. "I have a DJ opportunity for you."

Beca nodded and said, "Give me ten minutes, and I'll meet you in your spot."

CR gave Beca a thumbs up and left the booth. Beca put together a playlist that would run about forty minutes and left the booth. She stopped at the bar and got a bottle of water before heading up to CR's private VIP area. Being a hot-shot music producer had its perks.

"Beca!" CR called out.

Beca turned at hearing her name, and her jaw nearly hit the floor. Sitting next to CR was a gorgeous redhead with a beautiful smile looking at her. Beca shook her head slightly and made her way over to CR.

"Hey," Beca said. "I got about thirty minutes before I have to get back to the booth."

"That's fine," CR said. "It shouldn't take that long."

"Your music is awesome," the redhead said.

"Thanks," Beca said and smiled.

"Beca Mitchell, aka DJ Titanium-B, this is Chloe Beale," CR said indicating the redhead on her right. "She's a friend of Denise's from college."

"Nice to meet you," Beca said and put out her hand for Chloe to shake.

"Nice to meet you, too," Chloe said shaking the offered hand.

Beca pulled her hand back and looked at CR. "So, you said something about a gig?"

"Oh, right," CR said. "I'll let Chloe tell you."

Beca looked over to Chloe with raised eyebrows. Chloe looked back at her and smiled.

"My best friend is getting married in two weeks," Chloe said. "The DJ we originally hired canceled on us this morning, and we're in desperate need of a new DJ. Denise told me that she and CR knew of a DJ and invited me to come and listen to you tonight. From what I've heard, you'd be perfect. I know it's short notice, but we can pay whatever your going rate is plus a bonus."

"What's the date of the wedding?" Beca asked.

"February fourteenth," Chloe replied. "I know it's Valentine's Day, and you probably have a significant other you want to spend it with, so he's invited as well."

"Her," Beca said.

"Excuse me?" Chloe said.

"If I had a significant other," Beca said. "He would be her."

"Oh," Chloe said with a small smile.

"It would be good for you, Beca," CR leaned in and whispered to Beca. "Chloe's friend is a well-known lawyer, and her fiance is a supermodel. This is a perfect networking opportunity and could lead to more high-end gigs. They could fill in the time between artists."

Beca chewed on her bottom lip and thought about the offer. She did need something to do for Valentine's Day, so she decided she'd do it.

"I'll do it," Beca said as she pulled out her phone and held it out to Chloe. "Put your number in here so we can set up a time to discuss the music. I'll need to know if there are specific songs that must be played, what the brides don't like, that sort of thing."

Chloe took Beca's phone and put in her number. She sent herself a text so she'd have Beca's number, and handed the phone back to Beca.

"Are you free this week?" Chloe asked. "We only have two weeks."

"Are you available tomorrow?" Beca asked. "I'm between artists, so I'm free just about any day if that doesn't work for you."

"Between artists?" Chloe asked.

"Beca's also a music producer like me," CR said. "She likes to keep it low key, so people don't know who she is."

CR's phone pinged and she looked to see who was texting her. "I have to go," CR said. "Denise is home and waiting for me. Chloe, you can stay if you want. I'll let the bartender know to put your drinks on my tab."

"I would like to stay," Chloe said. "But I can start a tab."

"Nonsense," CR said and stood to end the conversation.

"Give Denise my best," Chloe said. "And tell her we'll have to get together soon."

"You got it," CR said and turned to Beca. "Beca, Chloe's a friend so be nice."

"Got it," Beca said.

Beca and Chloe watched CR leave. Beca sat on the sofa next to Chloe. "Do you know anyone here tonight?"

"Just you," Chloe said.

"Well, if you want you can hang out with me in the booth," Beca said with a grin. "Or you can stay here, and when you get tired of all the guys hitting on you and giving you their lame pick-up lines, you can come and hang out with me in the booth."

"What about the women who hit on me?" Chloe asked with a grin.

"Their pickup lines are just as lame," Beca said with a laugh. "Same offer, too."

"I'd like to hang out in the booth with you," Chloe said with a smile. "Who knows? Maybe I'll get to use your number for something other than hiring you as a DJ."

Beca's smile grew wide as she stood and held out her hand to Chloe. Chloe took the offered hand and let Beca lead her to the DJ booth.

~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day 13~~

Beca woke the next morning with a smile on her face as she stretched and rolled over to wrap her arms around the naked redhead laying next to her. Chloe pushed back against Beca and turned her head slightly to look at her.

"Morning," Chloe mumbled.

"Good morning," Beca replied and kissed the side of Chloe's head. "Can I take you to breakfast?"

"Mmmm," Chloe said and turned over to face Beca, snuggling into Beca's neck. "I'd like that. But, I need to go home first to shower and change."

"You can shower here," Beca said. "I have something you can wear. And we can talk about the set list for the wedding at breakfast."

"Okay," Chloe said and leaned back so she could kiss Beca. "Do you want to shower first or shall I?"

"You can go first," Beca said. "I'll get something for you to wear, as well as a toothbrush."

Chloe got up and hopped off the bed and headed for the ensuite. Beca got up and loosely threw a robe on before looking for some clothes for Chloe. She found everything she needed and placed them on the bed. She then went into the bathroom to find Chloe putting her hair up in a loose ponytail.

Beca went to a cabinet and pulled out clean towels and a washcloth, as well as a robe for Chloe.

"Everything you need should be in the shower," Beca said as she set the towel and robe on the shelf outside the shower.

Chloe bit her lip as she walked over to Beca. She looked Beca up and down as she reached down to untie Beca's robe. "Care to join me?"

Beca smiled as she dropped her robe. She opened the shower door and said, "After you."

Chloe giggled and stepped into the shower with Beca close behind her. After their shower, Beca took Chloe to brunch since it was later in the morning. They discussed the set list for the wedding and finished brunch.

"I know this is going to sound weird," Beca said as they sat sipping their drinks. "But, I don't want this day with you to end."

"I feel the same way," Chloe said. "I don't know how to explain it."

"Would you think it was weird if I asked you to stay the weekend with me?" Beca asked.

"Nope, I don't think it's weird at all," Chloe said. "And, I'd love to spend the weekend with you."

Beca's smile grew wide as she signaled the waitress for the check. "Do you want to go by your place and get some clothes and whatever else you need?"

"Yes, please," Chloe said.

Beca paid their bill, and the two left the diner.

~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day 13~~

Beca parked in front of Chloe's house and shut off the engine.

"Oh, good," Chloe said as they got out of the car. "Brey's home. You can meet one-half of the bridal couple. And before we go in, do you want to be my plus one for the wedding?"

"What does being your plus one entail?" Beca asked as they made their way to the door.

"You have to dance with me at the wedding," Chloe said with a grin. "And you get to come with me to the bachelorette party."

"Hmmm," Beca said as they stopped outside the door. "Sounds like it might be fun being your plus one."

"You ain't seen nothin' yet," Chloe said and pulled Beca into a kiss.

"Oh, my God," a voice said breaking them apart.

They both looked to see a blonde standing in the doorway looking at them.

"Sorry, Brey," Chloe said with a giggle. "Brey, this is Beca. Beca, this is Brey."

Beca held out her hand, and Aubrey shook it. "Nice to meet you."

"You, too," Aubrey said.

Aubrey stepped aside and let Beca and Chloe in. She closed the door and turned to look at Beca and Chloe.

"Chloe, could I see you in the kitchen, please?"

"Sure," Chloe said. "Becs, have a seat. I'll get my stuff after I've talked to Aubrey."

Beca sat down as Chloe followed Aubrey into the kitchen.

"So, you're bringing your one-night stands home with you now?"

"Don't be like that, Brey," Chloe said. "She's not just a one-night stand. I think she's going to be someone special in my life. I can't explain it, but it feels right. "

"Just be careful, okay?" Aubrey said. "I don't want you jumping into something too soon."

"Says the woman who is marrying someone she's known for less than six months," Chloe said with a teasing grin. "I was concerned that you two hadn't known each other that long, but I get it now. When you know, you know."

Aubrey blushed and smiled. "She does seem nice."

"She's awesome," Chloe said. "And, she's my date to the wedding as well as your new DJ."

"Leave it to you to find a date while looking for a DJ," Aubrey said with a laugh. "How did you find her?"

"Denise and CR know her," Chloe said. "She works with CR. She's a music producer and a DJ."

"Have you heard her stuff?" Aubrey asked.

"Yeah," Chloe said. "She's awesome. CR invited me to the club she played at last night. I think you'll love what she plays. Oh, and I gave her a list of songs I know you'll like. Plus, we talked about the first dance and the father/daughter dance songs. It's all covered. I promise."

"I trust your judgment," Aubrey said.

"Don't worry," Chloe said. "I'll ask her if she can download some of her stuff so you can listen to it."

~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day 13~~

One week later, Beca and Chloe were having dinner together. Beca looked at Chloe and smiled.

"What's go you all happy?" Chloe asked with a smile of her own.

"You," Beca said with a loving smile. "I'm just glad I met you. I didn't think I'd find anyone like you so soon after my ex-girlfriend and I broke up."

"May I ask what happened?" Chloe said.

"We were on different pages in our relationship," Beca said. "We had been together for two years, and I was ready for the next step. I thought she was, too."

"You were going to propose?" Chloe asked surprised.

"Yeah," Beca said. "But, she accidentally found the ring and freaked out. That's when she said she wasn't the marrying kind. We broke up that night, and she took everything she had at my place and left. I haven't seen or spoken to her since. It's been almost three months."

"How, um, how do you feel about her now?" Chloe asked with some concern.

"I don't feel anything for her now," Beca said and gave a small laugh. "I realized about a week or two after she left that I wasn't in love with her, I was in love with the idea of being in love. She was hardly ever around because she was traveling all over for photo shoots. And when we were together, it was, um, just more about, um-" Beca blushed and looked down at the table.

"You can say it was just more about sex than love," Chloe said.

"It was," Beca said glancing back up at Chloe. "I'm sorry. Is this making you uncomfortable?"

"No," Chloe said shaking her head. "We've only known each other a little over a week, and I feel like we have something special between us. I don't want to upset you, but I feel like I need to ask, is what we have just about sex to you?"

"Oh, God, no," Beca said quickly. "I never felt like this with Stacie. I feel like you are my future. Like I've found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I love you. Oh, my God!" Beca sat back in her seat. "I can't believe I just said that. But, I do mean it. I love you, Chloe."

Chloe had a tear in her eye as she looked at Beca. "I love you, too."

"Really?" Beca asked and smiled. "So, does this mean we're exclusive? I'm with you, and you're with me, and there's no one else for either one of us?"

"Yes, I'd like that," Chloe said fighting back the tears.

Beca reached across the table and took Chloe's hand. "Remind me to send the biggest bouquet I can find to one Stacie Conrad for breaking up with me."

"Stacie Conrad?" Chloe asked, her eyes suddenly widening. "As in Stacie Conrad, the supermodel? She's your ex-girlfriend?"

"Yeah," Beca said furrowing her brow. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Oh, my God," Chloe said. "You've said Stacie a couple of times, but it never occurred to me you meant Stacie Conrad." Chloe's face paled. "Beca, Stacie Conrad is Aubrey's fiance."

"Oh," Beca said. "Shit!"

They both sat quietly, not saying anything as they digested the information.

"You said she wasn't the marrying kind?" Chloe asked breaking the silence.

"That's what she told me when she found out I was planning to propose," Beca said.

"I need to tell Brey," Chloe said after a moment. "I don't think Stacie's told her about you. Brey is going to go ballistic. She's only known Stacie for six months, and she cheated on you with her."

"Oh, I hadn't thought of it like that," Beca said.

~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day 13~~

Chloe pulled into the driveway of the home she shared with Aubrey and turned off the car.

"Thanks for coming with me," Chloe said as she turned to look at Beca.

"No worries," Beca said. "Maybe I can explain things to Aubrey, and she won't hate me."

"It's not her hating you that I'm worried about," Chloe said. "I don't know how she's going to take the news about Stacie."

"She loves Stacie," Beca said with a shrug. "If she didn't, she wouldn't be marrying her after only knowing her for such a short time. Stacie and I weren't meant to be; obviously, Stacie and Aubrey are. Aubrey has nothing to worry about."

"I hope she sees it that way," Chloe said. "An unhappy Aubrey Posen is not someone I like dealing with."

Chloe sat in the car just looking at the house. Beca watched her and then gave her a small smile.

"Maybe we should go in and get this over with," Beca said.

"You're right," Chloe said with a heavy sigh. "Let's go."

Beca and Chloe got out of the car and went into the house.

"Brey?" Chloe called out. "Are you home?"

"In the kitchen," Aubrey called out.

Beca followed Chloe into the kitchen. "Brey, we need to tell you-. Oh."

Chloe stopped suddenly, and Beca grabbed her to keep her from falling as she ran into the back of her.

"Careful, Chlo," Beca said before she suddenly froze.

"Beca?" Stacie said her eyes wide.

"You two know each other?" Aubrey asked looking between the two brunettes.

"Um," Beca said and looked to Stacie.

"Yeah," Stacie said with a sigh.

Silence filled the air as the four girls looked from one to the other without speaking.

"I'm guessing there's a history with you two," Aubrey said breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Stacie said again. "I need to tell you something."

"Maybe we should go," Chloe said turning to look at Beca.

"No," Stacie said. "Please stay. Have a seat."

Chloe and Beca looked awkwardly at Stacie but sat at the counter. Beca grabbed Chloe's hand and squeezed it.

"Stacie, what's going on?" Aubrey asked. "How do you know Beca?"

"Brey, you know I love you, right?"

"Yes, I know. But, what does that have to do with Beca?"

"Beca and I used to...date," Stacie said.

"Oh," Aubrey said and looked at Stacie. "There's more to it isn't there?"

"Yeah," Stacie said. "Um, we were together when you and I met."

Aubrey's eyes widened, and she looked from Stacie to Beca and back again. "What?"

"I was with Beca when we met," Stacie said. "We didn't break up until about three months ago."

Aubrey opened her mouth as if to say something, and then snapped it closed. "You cheated on Beca with me?"

"It wasn't like that, Brey," Stacie said. "I was never in love with Beca. I'm in love with you."

"How long were you together?"

"Almost two years."

"Two years?!"

"Aubrey, Stacie's right," Beca said quickly. "We were never in love. It was more a sex thing. I know that sounds crass, but it's true. I thought I was in love with her but realized about a week or so after she left that I wasn't. I was in love with the idea of being in love with someone."

"Brey?" Chloe said getting Aubrey's attention. "Beca told me all about it. And, maybe you and Stacie need to talk more. Um, Beca told me-" Chloe stopped and looked at Beca. Beca nodded her head and Chloe continued. "Beca told me she was going to propose to Stacie."

Aubrey let out a gasp and looked at Stacie. "What happened? Did you tell her about me?"

"No, she didn't," Beca said.

"I found the engagement ring, and we argued," Stacie said. "I told her I wasn't the marrying kind because I didn't want to hurt her by telling her I was in love with you. To tell her I had been cheating on her." Stacie wiped a tear that ran down her cheek. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Brey."

"You should be apologizing to Beca for cheating on her," Aubrey said as she wiped at a tear and looked down at the counter.

"Aubrey," Beca said causing Aubrey to look up at her. "I'm not even upset to learn that you two got together while Stacie and I were still a thing, and I don't have any feelings whatsoever for Stacie. I get how Stacie fell for you so quickly because I fell for Chloe just as fast. We haven't known each other that long, but I swear I see a future for us. And, I can tell that Stacie loves you. I've never had her look at me the way she's been looking at you." Beca looked at Stacie. "And, Stacie, I'm sorry for the way I acted when you left. I was hurt, and I acted like a child." She gave a small chuckle. "Honestly, you're leaving was the best thing to happen to both us."

Stace gave her a thankful smile. "I'm sorry, too. I should have told you about Aubrey from the beginning. I guess falling in love with her surprised me because I had absolutely no intention of getting married. Ever. But, I know Aubrey's the one for me."

"I'm happy for you," Beca with a big smile on her face. "I'm happy for both of you."

"Thank you, Beca," Aubrey said. "I'm sorry about the cheating part of this."

"As I told you," Beca said. "I don't condone it, but I'm not upset by it. I probably would have been if Stacie had told me before she left. But, now, not so much."

"Brey?" Stacie said. "I do love you, and I still want us to get married. What do you want?"

Aubrey looked at Stacie and smiled. "I love you, too, and I still want to marry you."

"I'm so glad to hear you say that!" Stacie said and pulled Aubrey into a kiss.

"Well, that went way better than I expected," Chloe said softly as she put her head on Beca's shoulder.

"Yeah, it did," Beca said with a smile.

They both looked over to see Aubrey and Stacie still kissing.

"Are you sure you're okay with that?" Chloe asked as she lifted her head to look at Beca.

"Honestly," Beca said as she smiled and leaned toward Chloe. "It doesn't bother me a bit. Especially, since I get to do this."

Beca crashed her lips against Chloe's, and Chloe put her hand behind Beca's neck and pulled her in closer to deepen the kiss. They finally broke apart to see Aubrey and Stacie watching them with smiles on both their faces.

~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day 13~~

Aubrey and Stacie's wedding went off without a hitch. Beca sat in the crowd smiling as Chloe caught her eye and winked at her. Once the ceremony ended, Beca hurried to the DJ set-up to introduce the new brides.

Once Beca started playing her music, the dance floor was always full. She managed to dance quite a bit with Chloe, and the smiles never left either of their faces. Beca was back at the DJ table when Stacie walked up to her.

"Thank you for doing this," Stacie said.

"No thanks necessary," Beca said. "If it weren't for this, I never would have met Chloe. She's something else."

"Real love looks good on you," Stacie said with a smile.

"On you as well," Beca responded.

"I want to hug you, but my wife and your girlfriend are both looking a bit nervous," Stacie said.

Beca looked up to see the two friends standing together and looking over at them. She let out a small laugh. "Hug me anyway."

Stacie laughed as well and hugged Beca. Beca pulled back from the hug.

"I'm happy for you, Stacie," Beca said.

Before Stacie could say anything, Aubrey and Chloe were standing in front of the two brunettes. Chloe looked at Beca gave her a big grin.

"Want to dance?" Chloe asked as she held out her hand.

"I was hoping you'd ask," Beca said and led Chloe to the dance floor.

Beca pulled Chloe to her and started dancing. Their foreheads were touching, and Chloe had her hand behind Beca's neck, playing with Beca's hair.

"I almost forgot," Chloe whispered. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Chlo," Beca whispered back and kissed Chloe.

"How long have they been together?" Stacie asked as she and Aubrey watched Beca and Chloe dance.

"About two weeks," Aubrey said.

"Something tells me they may make it to the altar faster than we did," Stacie said.

"You're probably right," Aubrey said and laughed. "Let's dance."

[loquaciousquark]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E29 (August 7, 2018)

Tonight’s preshow: favorite moments from the live show at GenCon last week. Y’all, Dani is so short in real life, I can’t even. Less adorably, I’ve burned my popcorn. Why must life be so cruel?

Music fades out, then hard smashcut to Brian passed out in his chair. Bless, he looks tired. Smashcut to Marisha and Liam also sleeping on the couch. Get these kids some rest, I tell you what. Tonight’s guests: Liam & Marisha.

Announcements: Tonight’s sponsor is Dwarven Forge, who’ve recently launched their kickstarter for the Cavern’s Deep set. See more at critrole.com/dwarvenforge. Honey Heist 2: Electric Beargaloo airs this Friday at 7:00pm PST (on top of the regular episode on Thursday). They actually shot it last night, and it’ll air unedited on Friday. Liam: “No audience, no fucks left to give.” Marisha and some of the others will hang out in the chat Friday night to share the experience, and Brian will be posting some behind-the-scenes photos and videos at the break. The Mighty Nein shirt is back in stock and available at critrole.com. 

CR Stats! The MN reached 159 “9″s this episode, which includes all rolls ever. The 150th 9 goes to Beau--dex save against the fire trap. Beau dealt 147 damage this episode, the most for anyone in any episode in C2 so far. Liam: “This is the class you were born to play.” Marisha: “I’ve never been a Grog before. I’m so excited, you guys.” In Episode 7, the Bust of Estelle Getty attacked twice and hit both times. In Episode 29, the Bust of Nefertiti attacked four times and missed all four. Lorenzo’s last action was Cone of Cold; after that, the party dealt 117 of their total 146 damage. The 6 rounds of this fight is the longest fight of this campaign.

Sam’s outfit? Liam: “What are you going to do next year?” Sam’s panicking. Xenomorph? Cthulhu? Matt Mercer costume? Marisha: “What, are we talking prosthetics? Long hair and a henley aren’t really amping it up.” Liam: “He could wear a vest.”

Liam likes both the intimacy of being around the table and the live theater’s energy. Seeing people cosplay as their characters chanting and screaming is unreal. It feels like a bottle rocket going up next to them. Brian always cries at live shows because of the impact that it has on people--reading tweets is one thing, but seeing the love in person is beyond words.

Liam wasn’t surprised at all at how useful Frumpkin was as a spider. “I don’t know why anyone would think it would be a bad idea.” Marisha: “I got shit for the things I turned into for THREE YEARS! It’s my turn to make fun of other people’s animal choices!” Liam: “#thankskeyleth.”

Beau’s newfound confidence with ladies is both luck and Molly’s influence; she’s always been a bit of a flirt, but Marisha thinks “disaster lesbian” is totally accurate. Liam pitches a 70s exploitation-style spy movie on the spot. Marisha talks about a few times that she almost pursued something with Yasha/Ashley, but then she left and Marisha didn’t get the chance. Brian commiserates. 

Beau waited until Keg could walk off into the sunset to avoid morning-after awkwardness.

Caleb’s first impression of Caduceus is “he’s really ready to put his life in danger. There’s that. I mean, he wanted to get out, so he could have taken a train ride through Alaska, but instead we invaded a compound.” Beau doesn’t have impressions yet. She’s been so desperate for help that any help was a win.

Caleb doesn’t enjoy having power over others. He has an ability to think critically and get things done, but hasn’t been in that position for a long time; he has big plans but no ability to achieve them. He wants to just start getting comfortable again. “Caleb is a mess of contradictions. I change my mind as to what he thinks or I think any given moment.” He wars with liking people and needing to walk away from people because what he’s doing is “more important.” He isn’t sure which part is lying to himself--he just knows that as he lies to himself, he’s still doing something completely different.

To an excellent question about character development by Brian, Marisha talks about finding ideals for a character that you have to go all in on, while still knowing that the world is going to go in on you at the same time and that you’ll change whether you like it or not. Some characters are more stubborn (Caleb); Beau is a little more vulnerable to outside forces of change, such as the death of Molly--she’s never had someone die that she cared about before.

Liam talks about how Caleb has that ability to bring back some fundamental aspects of the person he used to be, in part because he’s now forming connections with people he doesn’t want to admit to even himself. However, what happened with the Shepherds made him angry in a way he never anticipated, plus losing so much of the party... ”I want to do the impossible. If I can’t do this?” The Caleb at the beginning of the campaign was happy to sit back and skulk; this new Caleb, who has been angry, and who is now one of a very small party, cannot skulk. “There was no hanging back. Decisions had to be made.” He doesn’t want to be a leader, but he’ll get things done if he has to.

Beau doesn’t and will never feel vindicated for Molly’s death. BWF: “Revenge and closure aren’t always the same.”

After the live show and Keg, Taliesin told Marisha, “Molly would be so proud.” One of the things that lingers with Beau is that she put on a front in her last conversation with Molly while he was trying to be totally genuine, and then he died before she ever opened up. She’s processing the fact that she missed that opportunity, which is why she jumped on that opportunity with Keg. Marisha also talks about the documentary about Glow on Netflix, where the woman who played the “heart” of Glow talks about her regrets of being in love with the producer but never telling him, and now twenty years have gone by and she’s still in love.

GIF of the Week: @seraphinedreams, which is a Star Wars-style scroller about the Anti-Wheaton Ashly Burch and all her 20s/19s/18s from the live show.

BWF talks about one of the theatre workers recognizing Brian and pointing out the Tal outfit was “worse than last year’s.”

The Nefertiti lamp was a loan from the Egyptian Room of the Murat Theatre.  Khary saw the lamp and went off about how much he needed the empowered figure. Liam: “Thank God we had her, though. Really turned the tide of the battle.”

Going into this fight, Caleb was still furious at the Iron Shepherds. Even so, even during the fight, Caleb was telling himself, “You need this, you need this,” so that he can go to the next thing.

Marisha likes Matt’s revision to the Cobalt Soul class. She’s still figuring out the right things to ask but is liking it much better in terms of expertise costs.

Liam: “I don’t think many moments in my life will rival the impossible moment of that motherfucker dying, on stage, with so many people watching. It was bewildering [to have so many people watching] and it made that moment of blind luck so much more amazing.” Marisha’s not sad at all that he’s dead. Everyone talks about the crazy energy of the HDYWTDT in front of 2500 people.

Brian isn’t apologizing in advance for or after the Honey Heist. Consider me piqued.

Beau cares about Caleb’s mental health. She’s sympathetic, especially since she’s starting to care for the rest of their group. She still believes in the importance of keeping teammates healthy out of both care for them and selfish concern for herself in a fight.

Marisha talks about how emotional she got when Shakaste talked about them being good people doing good things, leaving places better than they found him, especially since Khary’s not caught up on the campaign. Now Beau has to think about the themes that keep cropping up. Caleb knows what they’ve done here is good, but still thinks that the universe is pretty random & that even if they saved an entire orphanage, Caleb will still find himself unforgivable and terrible. “Nothing will erase what he’s done.” BWF: “Nothing?” Liam: “Nothing.”

They hid Khary the whole weekend to keep him from the critter crowd. “It was like telling a 12-year-old in Las Vegas that they had to stay in the hotel.”

Fanart of the Week: this lovely piece by @emtousi12 on twitter, featuring all the guests of the campaign so far.

Caleb/Liam regretted the invisibility scroll casting even before he cast it. He was stressed, the haste was a dud, and he was almost totally out of spells. Liam commiserates with Marisha about having planned very badly on selecting his first level spells for this fight-- “I had a bunch of spells I couldn’t do dick with.” However, he really, really, really didn’t want to die, so even though he desperately wanted to save the scroll, he wanted to live more. 

Neither Beau nor Keg think they plan to make this a recurring thing. “Hit it and quit it.”

Liam’s asked again about why he dedicated the kill to Frumpkin & not Molly (same question as was asked at Gencon). Liam starts talking about how Caleb had a girl cat as a child (also named Frumpkin); later, he recreated his cat using magic, except this one was male (oops?). This--boy, this is a lot very quickly. Marisha: “Is this something you worked out? Is that a narrative beat you thought of in your head?” Liam: “That was a ‘yes/and’ improv thing because Liam also had a cat named Frumpkin as a little boy, and that cat was a girl. But I decided when I was creating my character that Frumpkin was a boy. But because I have real memories as Liam of the cat as a girl, I kept messing up the gender of the fucking cat in the game, so then I retooled my story. So the first part of my answer is that Frumpkin is more important than a magic spell. Frumpkin is a piece of his lovely childhood, his wonderful childhood, and he wanted to have a piece of that in his miserable existence. The second half of that answer is that [the kill] wasn’t dedicated to Frumpkin. Caleb was exhausted and bleeding out, on the verge of death; that line was the equivalent of ‘fuck this day,’ and to say [points emphatically] ‘That was for Molly’ is too--on the nose! I mean, they were all thinking it. They’re all weighed down by it. There’s no need to say it--the day is awful, and what’s more, Molly’s dead--for all they knew in that moment, the other three are dead too, they don’t know! This is a torture chamber! They’re in a Saw movie. They don’t know how the other three are. So maybe they’re all dead. Certainly Molly’s dead. So no, it was not dedicated to the cat.”

Beau felt the same thing, especially since Nott already went into the cage and had the moment with Jester. They were all feeling it and thinking it--it was there--and no one felt the need to say it aloud. “To quote Scarlett O’Hara, ‘I can’t think about that right now. I’ll think about it tomorrow.’“ Liam: “The bottom line is that Caleb is in love with his cat, and the shippers need to focus on that. Send me fiction about that.”

Everyone dreads telling Jester, Yasha, and Fjord what’s happened to Molly. Marisha thinks Fjord will be pragmatic, Yasha will be angry, and Jester will blame herself.

Marisha hypothesizes that since Lorenzo seemed interested in capable fighters, he might have been creating almost Winter Soldier-type slaves that he could use to fight for him.

Everyone’s relieved Sam didn’t fall off the stage in the rollerblades. Apparently he had a dry run out of costume that...did not go well.

Marisha loved the stunning strike moment and the HDYWTDT moment for each of them. Liam loved Nott’s kissing Caleb while he was invisible. BWF does NOT encourage this behavior and we should NEVER DO IT AGAIN and he does NOT WANT THIS IN THE FUTURE but he laughed pretty hard at whoever yelled “It’s High Noon” at Matt towards the beginning of the show.

Liam had a great time playing exhausted--yes, it’s awesome to have the amazing moments, but he loves the fun of the failures too. 

Travis made it to the actual studio today and got a round of applause. “It’s like seeing a hologram of Tupac.”

After Dark: They’re So Tired I’m Tired For Them Edition

Oh, God. Twenty minutes in I realize my video froze during the break and I had no idea. I wondered why it was taking so long. Where are we? I’ll fill it in in a second.

Would BWF ever allow Sam to pick his outfit? He doesn’t know if he has the guts. Sam’s closet is full of ties and sneakers according to Liam.

Liam loved two critters cosplaying as gelatinous cubes at GenCon this year--he recognized one of them as one who came as a beholder last year and applauds her creativity. Marisha loved how their swords were floating around them.  Liam swoons over all the Vaxes with functioning wings; Marisha loved Opening Title Sequence Matt; BWF gushes about the pair who came as him from Signal Boost and Liam Las Vegas; Marisha loved the Percy with the Orthax shadow. There was also a pair of little girls who did the twins one day and Yasha and Beau the next; all three get a little fluttery.

Most of the panel from GenCon is up on Critical Scope.

Marisha would prefer to face a party of wizards over a party of monks. Liam would prefer avoiding both, but if forced would take the monks since they have range requirements.

Thanks, broadcasting.

Liam isn’t bitter the two clerics didn’t heal him. Not at all. Not bitter at all. He was at two hit points before he healed himself with the potion.

Marisha started tearing up when they found the party members in part because the game is very real to them, and they miss Laura, Travis, and Ashley so much. Sometimes the very real reactions catch them off guard. Liam points out that they’re family and it never feels good with part of the family gone.

Live show was the best thing they did at GenCon, but seeing the booth was pretty cool too. Everyone was “cranky” Sunday morning. BWF: “Oh my God, you’re being so nice right now.” Marisha was annoyed from the moment the makeup artist knocked on their door the next morning to get Matt ready to be Pumat. The entire group didn’t say a word to each other over breakfast except to snipe at each other. “Do you know what time it is?” “You’re looking at your phone.”

Liam talks about some cool oversized minis he got for his daughter’s Ravenloft game at the Privateer Press booth. BWF got some new dice (as did Marisha for both her and Matt at the Level Up booth), a Wyrmwood box, and some Iron Kingdoms books.

BWF admits he is a deep nerd and loves Warmachine; he could have talked to the Privateer Press people for hours about the lore if he didn’t think they’d have chased him off.

Did Vax take Molly to the other side? Liam doesn’t know. He has his own ideas--Ariana, their official artist, did a picture of Vax on an obsidian throne & surrounded by obsidian, with white antlers growing out of his shoulder & holding a raven skull, and that’s what he feels his afterlife is like. He does like to think that Vax took Molly to the other side. “He was so colorful and full of life. I’d like to think so.”

The VOD of Matt’s Fireside Chat is up on the critrole Twitch! BWF: “He’s so articulate.” Marisha: “A living bard.”

That’s all for today! Is it Thursday yet?

[lifeofpalace]

Rushed Hours: Tokyo Drift

Not sure if it was sheer brilliance or plain stupidity but I landed in Tokyo Narita for a layover but I had to depart from Tokyo Haneda, a completely different airport.

Tuesday, June 4, 2019

After securing my eight-hour layover in Tokyo, I contacted Natsumi, who just finished her year-long abroad study in Los Angeles. I asked her to recreate the stairs scene in Kimi No Na Wa/Your Name and show me around Shibuya, since I never had the chance to during my first trip last year. In exchange, I agreed to bring her some snacks and sweets that she misses from Los Angeles.

First mistake - self check-in. I completely forgot the deal with luggage tags. You get three stickers, one to wrap around the handle, one to stick on the suitcase, and one for you to keep to locate your baggage. My naïvity posted both stickers on my suitcases so when I asked the flight attendant where I'm picking up my luggages (in Narita or Changi), she couldn't find out unless I had my luggage tag. Woe is me.

Eventually, I had to pick up my luggages from Narita and check them in for my flight leaving Haneda, which means that I had to carry my suitcases throughout Tokyo. With two checkin luggages and one hand carry, I arrived in the warm Tokyo summer weather starting to be drenched in sweat. I connected to the airport Wi-Fi before planning to buy my Keisei tickets to Nippori Station.

My phone exploded with notifications.

"GUYS THE NEW GRAD APPLICATION IS UP"

"THE BOARD JUST SENT ME THE APPROVAL TO REGISTER FOR THE NCLEX"

Great. Just as soon as I left the country and was halfway across the world.

I graduated with a Nursing degree last month, and hospitals would release their New Graduate Residency programs at different times so we had to be on a lookout constantly. I was eyeing this OR program for one of the most prestigious hospitals in the country and prepared all my application requirements the day prior to my trip. I had a feeling that it would be posted while I was away in Asia, so I gave all my information and documents to Simi so she could apply for both herself and me.

"Done. Sent Chris's application too". Simi commented on the group chat.

To be a registered Nurse in America, graduates must take the Nursing Certification and Licensing Examination, colloquially called the NCLEX. Students do not get to choose their test dates until the School of Nursing approves of their degree and sends the transcripts to the Board of Registered Nursing, in which they would, then, send us the thumbs up to register for a test date.

While I was en route from Los Angeles to Tokyo, the Board sent out emails for the approval to register for an exam date, and by the time I arrived in Tokyo, all of June was booked.

Luckily, I wanted to take the exam this July, so I could have a bulk of my summer to prepare for it and managed to snag a test date towards the end of next month.

I would have approximately five weeks to prepare for the biggest exam of my entire career (and life).

I walk through Narita Airport, completely covered in tarp - apparently the whole airport is under construction, perhaps in preparation for the Olympics next year. I bought my Keisei tickets to Nippori Station from a lady who could only speak Japanese and was yelling at me for not realizing the meanings of her body movements and hand gestures. I got lost while looking for where to board the train and on top of that, my string bag ripped because of how heavy it was becoming from my selfie sticks and umbrella.

Flustered with the multiple situations I had to deal with right after arriving from a 12-hour flight, I sweated through my search for a seat in the train; before I was told that each seats are assigned in their appropriate train car. Great. More things to deal with.

Two hours. It took me two hours to go through arrivals, deal with my residency applications, and getting lost looking for my assigned seat before being on my way to Downtown Tokyo.

I repressed the memories from last year when I had to carry an entire summer's worth of suitcases all around the city, but I had to relive through traumatic experience because I found myself carrying all my suitcases up and down a lot of stairs once again (Shinjuku Station and Yotsuya-Sanchome Station, I'm referring to you).

I toured around East Asia last year with my friend, Simi, where we visited Hong Kong, Macau China, Japan, and South Korea - with that, I rationalized the fact that I had to bring my entire closet with me so I'd have something different to wear everyday. Being the first time traveling outside the country without my family, my mother managed to convince me to carry around a portable pharmacy in my suitcase complete with diarrhea, constipation, allergy, and pain medications. I managed to check-in two large suitcases with my duffel bag; yet little did I realize that I had to carry them around East Asia for the next two months.

I never made full use of the elevator or the ramps for reasons unknown, but it's usually the flight of stairs that greeted Simi and I whenever we step out of the subway cars.

This was prominent in Yotsuya-Sanchome station this time around when I followed the signs leading to Exit 3. There was neither an elevator nor an escalator on site, so I had to carry my luggages down one floor and up another floor. This lead to my reunion with Natsumi being red as a tomato and drenched in sweat, but even in that state, we were on our way to the iconic stairs in the movie under the dimming Tokyo skies.

Three hours down.

"I went to check the route earlier so we're good". Natsumi gave me brief descriptions of the places we passed by on our way to the stairs of Yotsuya Suga Shrine. She talked about the houses in Tokyo and how different they are than the ones in Los Angeles; and asked me which Japanese foods I was willing to eat with her tonight.

"Takoyaki". I answered lacking hesitation. I spent a huge amount of time and money eating takoyaki during my Japanese trip last year. Wherever I found myself (Tokyo, Osaka, Kyoto), I was chewing on the octopus balls during the day, under the sweltering afternoon heat, and again before going to sleep.

The last time I had takoyaki was in Los Angeles at this nice cafe in the 626, an Asian enclave that is packed with Asian restaurant in every nook and cranny of the area code. I was with my friend, Lesley, sipping on floral teas when I decided it was a good idea to pay $6 USD to eat four pieces of takoyaki - a price that does not turn heads in the area since that was the normal number.

Not in Tokyo - for obvious reasons. With $6 USD, I could feed myself and two other people enough takoyaki to last us the rest of the night. I will never pass on any opportunity to get takoyaki every time I find myself in Japan.

"Great - I know of a good place in Shibuya that specializes in takoyaki".

We turned left and found ourselves in the middle of a Shinto shrine, apparently the Yotsuya Suga, and Natsumi pointed at an unfamiliar set of stairs. I climbed it up and down and gave her the disapproving shake. "I don't think this is the one", I muttered while confirming with Google Maps that we were indeed at the right location.

We decided to exit the shrine and enter through a different area when I recognized the red railings just a few feet away from the wrong set of stairs.

"THAT'S the one!" I ran to the area, where I found myself at the top where the familiar scene took place. Each corner in my visual field found itself embedded within the animation of the movie: the houses, the streets, the trees, the sea of homes that stretched towards the horizon.

The sky was preparing for sunset as it engulfed it in pink hue. There were elementary boys using the staircase for their exercise and they stopped and rested out of view once in a while as Natsumi and I recreated the scenes on the stairs.

Four hours out of the airport and I was halfway through my layover time. As long as I make an hour before my departure, then I should be safe - that means I had three hours left.

After the photoshoot, we took the Fukutoshin Line to Shibuya eat at Gindaco Highball Sakaba, specializing in takoyaki from different Japanese prefectures. Natsumi also had me try a sweet alcohol called omeshu (お目しゅ), made from plum.

Here, I learned how to ask for more of something, おかわり/okawari or も一つおねがいしあす/mohitotsu onegaishimasu; I also found out there's a different word for water (水/mizu) used mostly in restaurants (お冷/ohiya).

After takoyaki, we headed to her favorite purikura (プリクラ) for pictures and managed to take and edit eight photos which we gave each other as a memorabilia of tonight's visit.

One hour remaining - this will be the rush hour.

Before crossing back to Shibuya Station, we took some time to take pictures with the crowded Shibuya intersection as our background to showcase Japan's busy lifestyle. In relative to the last time I crossed the intersection, there were less pedestrians, but the vibe was retained - Tokyo never sleeps, there's always a reason to be preoccupied within the megacity.

The Shibuya intersection is the busiest of its kind in the world - sometimes reaching up to 1,000 people crossing at one time. From the area's brightly-lit streets leading to restaurants catering to both the local and foreign faces of Tokyo to the loud buskers at the street sides, attracting a crowd large enough to pique the curiosities of the on-lookers, constantly wondering what's going on.

A group of cyclists crossed with me to the middle of the intersection where I posed in-front of a marquee that promoted the Japanese boy group V6 and their new single that was being released within the next week.

Not even a few seconds passed by when a red flag on a stick protruded above the sea of people held by a young lady where she made way to the middle of the intersection, yelling at the people forming a line behind her in Chinese. Oh great, this tour group is about to take over the intersection, in which they did. The crowd eventually blocked every photo opportunities for the rest until the red stop sign signaled the end of the cross.

Time is running out and I might miss the window of comfort for me to go through check-in and immigration comfortably.

We headed inside Shibuya Station right after when Natsumi bid goodbye, then I was on my way to Haneda International Airport.

Wait -

"I FORGOT TO GIVE YOU YOUR SNACKS". I texted her halfway through my commute; she laughed it off.

[mint-syuga]

transformer; chanyeol

img cr

title: transformer

length: 1.5k (oops)

genre: it’s not angst fluff or smut but it is kinda suggestive I guess lmao

notes: this picture destroyed me so you have it to thank for the monstrosity below, it’s unedited so sorry for any mistakes, I’ll correct them in the morning! i just wanted to post it lmao

this is my first time writing in a long, long time *also my first time writing in second person) and i’m slowly beginning to improve! i will work on it (tm)

also sorry for using bts and rv’s names, they were just the first ones i thought of and i went with it! 

part of series: exodus!

The bass rumbled through the floor of the club, flashing lights nearly blinding you as your heels vibrated with the pulsating rhythm. Seulgi shot you a blinding smile, yelling something about drinks as she disappeared in the crowd to presumably find some alcohol.

The heat of the club was nearly suffocating as you squeezed yourself out of the throng of people, managing to push your way to the booth area where Seulgi was waiting with vodka in hand, already chatting with the rest of your group that had come here to celebrate Namjoon’s birthday. Glass in hand, you clinked it against everyone else’s. “To Namjoon’s long life!” Hoseok and Taehyung cheered, downing their shots before Namjoon’s glass had even touched his lips.

“Guys, you’re supposed to wait for him to take the shot first…” Yoongi trailed off as Hoseok and Taehyung had already refilled their glasses and were now pressuring Jimin and Jungkook into playing a drinking game with them. You winked at Namjoon and raised your glass to him, smiling as you tipped your head back and let the vodka race a burning trail down your throat. Namjoon spluttered halfway through, coughing as Seokjin vigorously pounded his back.

“This vodka is shit! Don’t tell me you cheaped out again…” Namjoon looked incredulously at Hoseok, who shrugged sheepishly.

“All vodka tastes like shit. Loosen up, Joon! The point of your birthday is to get drunk as fast as possible, not ponder how refined your shit juice tastes.” Hoseok smirked as he poured Namjoon another and Taehyung, who was already swaying on his feet after taking two more shots, clamped his hands around Jimin and Jungkook’s wrists and dragged them to the dance floor.

“Ooh!” Seulgi giggled and pointed into the crowd as the song changed into something fast and heavy, beat pounding through the speakers. “We’re in luck, Yoongi, they’ve got that really good DJ on tonight!”

You followed Seulgi’s finger and found a tall man folded over the turntables in the middle of the crowd, bouncing up and down with the beat. His long fingers held his headphones to his ear as he expertly transitioned between tracks and you watched, mesmerized, as he effortlessly hyped up the crowd, his deep voice vibrating through the air and washing over you, causing the back of your neck to heat up and prickle.

“Does he play here a lot?” Your voice comes out soft and unsteady and you looked around, realizing Seulgi had already run off to dance. Yoongi, however, stood next to you and quirked an eyebrow.

“Usually on Thursdays and Fridays. He’s also the DJ for the late-night hip-hop radio program on campus, but you knew that already, right?” Yoongi smirked. “After all, he’s usually after my slot, and everyone tunes into my program.”

“Sure, sure. I knew that…” You trail off distractedly as you watched him. “What’s his name?”

“Chanyeol. You seem…interested.” Yoongi’s suggestive tone had you glaring at him, his smirk widening as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “I’m not saying anything, but he isn’t dating anyone, to my knowledge.”

“I don’t really care and I didn’t really ask, Yoongi.” You sighed as you turned away, your eyes drawn once again to his figure. You stiffened in surprise as you made eye contact, Chanyeol’s eyes locked on to yours from far across the dance floor, staring at you intently. You were unable to stop the blush creeping up your neck, feeling your body flush with warmth as Chanyeol’s intense gaze didn’t waver, causing you to look away first.

“Don’t care, my ass.” Yoongi walked away, shaking his head and chuckling.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, with Seulgi dragging you to the dance floor after an unholy amount of shots, thrusting the pair of you into the crowd to dance under the multicolored lights. Every so often, the back of your neck prickled, and sure enough, you would look up to find Chanyeol watching you, quickly breaking his gaze once he noticed you could see him staring. You pulled Seulgi out after an hour or so, feeling the buzz of the alcohol slowly beginning to wear off. “We’ve been dancing for too long, I’m starting to sober up. I’m gonna slip outside and get some fresh air, don’t do anything stupid, ok?”

“When have I ever done anything stupid?” Seulgi gasped in mock offense, pouting. “And is slipping outside code for following this hot DJ who’s been staring at you all night? Because if it isn’t, it should be.”

“No, it most certainly is not.” You rolled your eyes, turning on your heel and finding once again that Chanyeol was staring at you. This time, instead of breaking his gaze, his lips quirked into a half-smirk and he quirked his eyebrow. You tilted your head questioningly, and watched as he slipped out the back exit.

“I swear to god if you don’t follow him I’m going to kill you.”

“Shut up, Seulgi.” You walked towards the exit, hesitating slightly once you reached the door. I’m just going outside for some fresh air. That’s all. He has nothing to do with it. The door swung open and you stepped into the alley, the cool night air a pleasant change from the stuffy atmosphere of the club.

“Took you long enough.” The same low, rumbling voice from before was now suddenly much closer and softer. Chanyeol was leaning against the wall, a picture of ease, his lips still tilted up into that half-smirk that you found a little annoying but undeniably attractive.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You raised your eyebrow at him, casually leaning against the wall next to him, feigning innocence.

“You think I didn’t see you staring at me?” Chanyeol’s voice was overly nonchalant, sounding as if he couldn’t care either way.

“Excuse me? Shouldn’t that be my line?” You countered. What kind of game is he playing? Chanyeol rounded on you, standing close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off his tall frame. Your back pressed into the wall as he towered over you, one of his arms coming to rest on the wall by your head as he leaned over you. Oh. That kind of game.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Chanyeol’s tone was light, distracting you from the face that his face was inching closer and closer. You inhaled sharply as your eyes caught his, gaze locking you in place. You could smell his cologne, filling your senses and surrounding you with the scent of musk and cinnamon, warm and enticing.

You felt Chanyeol’s other hand settle on your hip, large and warm and making your heart speed up far more than it should, betraying the direction your thoughts were going. Chanyeol chuckled as if he could read your mind, letting his nose brush against yours as he rubbed circles into your hipbone with his thumb. His lips barely brushed against yours, speaking softly. “Out of curiosity, who were those guys you were drinking with so heavily with earlier?”

“You don’t even know my name and you’re already jealous?”

“Just checking that I’m not ruining some relationship before kissing you. Common courtesy, really. I’m a compassionate guy.” He was nosing against your cheek, his warm breath on your face, scrambling your mind.

You snort and slowly, deliberately press your lips against his, drawing back quickly. “Does that answer your question?”

“It does.” Chanyeol regarded you seriously for a second before he leaned in again and pressed his lips fully against yours. His hand came up and cupped your cheek gently, angling your head and moving his mouth against yours, lips soft and plump. Your hands automatically fisted into his button down, pulling him close against you as the kiss heated up, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before nipping at it teasingly, drawing the breath out of you. You broke the kiss for just a second to catch your breath before he was kissing you again, arms wrapping fully around you, holding you flush against him as he nibbled again, pulling a small mewl from your kiss-swollen lips. Your hands tangled into his hair and tugged on the soft grey strands as his tongue entered your mouth, skillfully dancing with yours. The kiss was open mouthed and messy and absolutely dizzying, and you could feel your brain sluggishly trying to process everything. Am I really going to make out with a practical stranger—

The door to your left bangs open and your thoughts are cut short as you hear Seulgi’s voice ring through the air. “Sorry to interrupt, but Namjoon wants a group picture and we really should be getting home anyway.” Seulgi pins you with a knowing look, noting your rather disheveled appearance, doing her best not to laugh. Chanyeol grumbled something about getting cockblocked and Seulgi couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. “If you aren’t back inside in five minutes, I’m coming back out here.” She re-entered the club, undoubtedly excited to tell everyone just exactly what you had been doing.

You look at Chanyeol, who was now approximately a foot away from you after jumping back in fright from the slam of the door opening. You quirk an eyebrow at him and run a hand through your hair, trying to arrange it properly so you didn’t look like you had just been making out with some guy, which, to be fair, you had. “Sorry, but my friend’s birthday trumps making out with a stranger in an alley. It was nice while it lasted, though.” You throw him a wink as you open the door to leave.

“Wait! Uh…My name’s Chanyeol.” He was suddenly acting sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck as if he was embarrassed.

“Yes…? And?” You tilted your head curiously.

“Well, what’s your name?”

You pretended to think over the question for a few seconds before you shot him a smirk over your shoulder, feeling rather confident in yourself.

“If we meet again, I’ll tell you.”

[jimlingss]

The Colour of Our Voices [10]

Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 10.5 OR Chapter 11

➜ Words: 4.8k

➜ Genres: 98% Fluff, 2% Angst, Slice of Life, Broadway!AU

➜ Summary: He wasn’t supposed to hear. He wasn't supposed to know. But the instant Jimin came into your life and pulled the curtains back, you couldn't hide backstage anymore. You were no longer merely a phantom of the opera.

➜ Warning: Spoilers to the musical Les Mis.

cr.

You show up in sweats.   If you could, you’d take a swig of the rosette right about now. But you’ve long run out and decided not to buy more after the other day’s embarrassing stunt at Jimin’s doorstep.   You still cringe when you think about it.   So instead, you eat chocolate. You gnaw on the king sized bar like it’s Halloween and you’re indulging in the post-trick-or-treat spirit.    Your hair is also unwashed, a spectacular three day record now. It’s itchy at some parts and when you scratch, white fluff comes dusting from your scalp. You haven’t showered in general for a while. There’s no point, really. Not when you don’t have any arrangements, responsibilities, no job to go to.   The unemployed life isn’t actually a bad one — as long as you don’t think about the inevitable doom of your bank account and having to go into debt to pay off bills.   Your life sort of feels like that picture of that dog that’s sipping on coffee while thinking ‘this is fine’ and the room is on fire. But what can you do?   “Is she…”   “...yeah…”   “....it’s true then?”   There are whispers that you’re not unaccustomed to, stares behind your back that you can feel and sense in your peripheral vision. “...the ghost singer…”   You turn around to look and the girls immediately seal their lips, looking away. They pretend to be discussing other things, but still, you hear it all around you.   “So is she really the Phantom? How is that possible?”   “Don’t ask me.”   “Do you think she can really sing?”   “Probably not. She’s only here because it would bring in publicity. We all know that.”   Your efforts are fruitless. They’re right. You’re not going to get a role. You’re only here to satisfy people’s curiosity.    “L/N Y/N?” The girl reads off her list. “Is there a L/N Y/N here?”   Fuck it.   What do you have to lose? You’ve lost it all anyways.   “Here!”   You raise your hand, voice loud and clear. The murmuring of the girls cease once they confirm that it is you. But you pay them any mind, finishing the chocolate bar in the awkward silence. You chew your mouthful and smear your stained hand on your grey sweatpants, leaving a streak of brown on your thigh.   You toss the wrapper in the garbage.   “Uh...right this way,” the girl says as she gestures past the curtain.   Many auditions take place in closed off rooms, but it’s an open stage this time. A modest size with the pianist tucked in the corner. There are five people sitting before the front row, a panel of them — some producers, directors, writers — you don’t know and you don’t care much for their titles either.   It feels like you’re on some TV show, ready for their judgment.    Your nose runs with snot and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. “Hi.”   “You’re L/N Y/N?” There’s a shuffle of papers, people peering up at you past their glasses.   “Yes.” You swallow the last bit of chocolate in your mouth, clearing your throat. You hope your teeth aren’t stained. Well….if they are, it wouldn’t be the biggest deal.   “You worked at the Phantom of the Opera production?”   You should probably head to the supermarket after this and get some ice-cream. You’d definitely feel better with it, curled on your couch with a warm blanket and some television to drown out the silence of your apartment.   “Y/N?”   The call of your name has you focusing again. “Pardon?”   The woman is dressed cleanly in a blazer with her hair pulled back into a bun like yours. But hers is undoubtedly neater, probably holding a bunch of pins, maybe even hair-sprayed. Yours was bunched up carelessly with a stretched elastic you found on the floor of your closet.   “You worked at the Phantom production?” she repeats.   You give her a bland answer, but one that’s unfortunately the entire truth. “As an intern.”   One of them pipes up, “Can you tell us any details about your previous work at the Phantom production?”   “I did coffee runs.”   “Umm….” The younger female in the middle gestures with her hand. “Did you do anything else?”   “I swept the floor. I did a lot of paperwork and printed things out for the director there,” you list out and shrug. “I don’t know. Things like that.”   They exchange looks with one another, probably not expecting such a boring response. “Did you...contribute to the performance in any way?”   Your eyes dim. Of course — this is what they wanted to know all along. It’s the reason you’re here in the first place. But they shouldn’t have beaten around the bush. If they asked over the phone, you would’ve told them. They didn’t need to waste their time like this.   But unfortunately, the honest truth isn’t as glamorous as they think it is. “The actor couldn’t sing, so I did. Behind the curtain.”   “And how did that come about?” someone asks with a frown, and you can see the girls peeking out from the curtain to your left, listening in.   “They needed someone,” you deadpan. “I volunteered.”   “Well...alright then.” He clears his throat and the others shift uncomfortably in their seats. You wonder what it is that they wanted to hear from you, what kind of gossip they were anticipating. “What are you singing for us today?”   “Do you have a preference?”   “Uh…” They look at one another and some shake their heads. “No, not really.”   You approach the pianist with a sigh. You didn’t prepare, but after countless auditions, you know all the basic audition pieces inside out. Every lyric is embedded into your mind. Pathetically enough. But they’re all the same — they gave you the same outcome of failure.    “Do you have any sheet music?”   The pianist blinks at you and timidly points to the top of the upright piano. “You can look in the binder.”   You flip it open and grab for the first paper-clipped set, passing it to him. “Here.” Then you step up to the middle of the stage again, cueing the pianist with a lifeless hand and the notes start, light and optimistic much to your displeasure.    Usually, you’d begin to feel your palms become clammy. But instead, your fingertips are sticky from melted chocolate. “There’s been a change in me.” Your voice draws from your chest hastily without much care. “A kind of moving on.”   Typically, your heart would be pumping fast to the point where you could feel it all the way in your throat. Your mouth would go dry. A cold sweat would wash down your body. But you don’t feel any of these things.    “Though what I used to be, I still depend upon.”   Your knees don’t quake. You don’t need to hide any tremors in your hands.    It’s not a real audition after all. This is a joke.   And if anything, you feel pissed. No matter where you go, you’re strung along by people for their own entertainment.   “For now I realize. That good can come from bad.”   It’s supposed to be a touching song sung by Belle in Beauty and the Beast. It’s supposed to be gentle. Hopeful. But every word is filled with your aggression. It’s hostile and indignant. You’re exhausted at being humiliated and you wail out the lyrics in grief. It tears from your throat.    If they wanted to hear you sing, they were going to hear alright.   “That may not make me wise. But fuck,” you ad lib, “it makes me glad.”   “And I—” you belt the note in a kind of bitterness reserved for a resentful villain, and a kind of sadness bleeds into it. It’s not at all like a kind protagonist that’s meant to be a delicate princess. Your voice even warbles against your will, cracks at the top, but you don’t care. You embrace it. “I never thought I’d leave behind my childhood dreams. But I don’t mind.”   You look off to the top of the stairs in the small auditorium. You’re reminded of how you once sang on a stage like this, how a brunette boy appeared from thin air and began clapping for you.   “For now I love the world I see.” You shut your eyes to savour the memory. “No change of heart, a change in me.”   You stop. The piano slows and ends. It goes completely silent.   One of the men open their mouth and then closes it. “Um….”   You spare them from having to sugar coat it and tell you how awful you are. “Thanks for the opportunity.”   You step off the stage, grab your bag, and brush past the crowd of males and females preparing to audition. They all stare at you — but for reasons you’re wrong about. Though you don’t dwell long enough to find that their expressions aren’t of detest. You hop down the stairs and take the emergency exit out.   //   You don’t know where to begin with your belongings.   For one, you’re going to need cardboard boxes bigger than those containing your instant noodles. If you’re going to go home, you need to pack up your furniture somehow. But in the meantime, you haul out your dusty luggage from the back of your closet. You kick the busted wheel to roll it a few meters before hurling it on your bed with a sigh.   You’re not sure what clothes to leave behind and which to take with you.   The mattress dips underneath your added weight and you look over to the hanging dresses that you never go to wear, blazers and pencil skirts that are unwrinkled and were only pulled out for the occasional audition….   You stand on your feet after a prolonged moment, not yet feeling the urge to dump all the hangers onto your bed and fold up the clothes into neat squares. Instead, you put it off by heading to the kitchen for more ice-cream.   But as you grab for a spoon, you pass by that counter. The one with the abandoned ticket pushed to the side. It catches your eye and you’re suspended in your spot, feet rooted to the ground. You almost forgot — it’s tonight.   You hold the ticket up to the light. It’s a dark blue with a streak of red, a young girl on it facing the horizon. Les Misérables, a front mezzanine middle row seat.   It wouldn’t hurt to do one more thing before you begin packing to go home…   Right?   //   You’re startled when the bell at the top of the door jingles to signal your entrance.   “Welcome to the Bloom Room!” A female in a green apron turns around with a bouquet of flowers and shears in the other hand. All around her are fancy floral arrangements, from wreaths to overflowing vases. The fresh scent overwhelms your senses, vibrant hues that render you even more uncertain. “How may I help you?”   “Umm..”   She smiles softly at you. “What kind of flowers are you looking for? Anything specific at all?”   You glance at the surroundings, still unsure. Maybe you should get something that’ll convey how sorry you are, for showing up drunk at his doorstep, for saying all those mean things to him. Something that’ll make amends, to tell him you really miss him, his presence, friendship.   You should get something that’ll communicate how thankful you are for him — for always being there even when you pushed him away, for always supporting you, for being your backbone when you needed it.   “Just….something nice, please,” you end up telling her with a modest smile.   “Certainly.” She leads the way, through the shelves and cases of flowers and bouquets. The florist glances at you, sincere in her gaze. “What’s the special occasion?”   “Oh no, there’s not a special occasion.” You shake your head and your hands, and the volume of your voice quiets as you try to explain. “Well, not really. I’m just bringing it with me to a show tonight. Someone I know is performing for the first time on stage.”   “How exciting! What’s your relationship with this person?” She stops at a station that has jars filled with single flowers, an array of brown paper and ribbons on the side. “Friends? Family member? Boyfriend or girlfriend?”   “Umm…..” You don’t know why it’s taking you so long to think about it. “Friends…?”   And you certainly don’t know why there’s a hint of doubt in your voice either.   The florist’s pupils flicker up to you, a hint of a knowing smile gracing her features. “How about peonies? They’re very delicate and I think it’ll be perfect to bring with you to a show. Seven of them and some baby’s breath and lilacs.”   “That sounds nice.” You nod and she begins to choose them. But you wonder if it’s strange to bring flowers to him. You clear your throat. “Is it…” The woman turns to look at you. “Is it weird to give flowers to a guy?”   “Not at all,” she assures you. “Trust me, everyone loves to get flowers.”   “Do you…..think I should deliver it or give it to him?” You’re unsure of what protocol is. You’ve never bought flowers for anyone before.   “Oh, you should give it to him,” she tells you without a trace of doubt. “That’s just me, but I think it’s much more personal to hand-deliver.”   You nod and there’s a moment of quiet before you remember something. It flickers into your mind, a memory hitting you in the face. And your eyes light up.   “C-Can I get them in purple?”   //   The show starts at seven thirty, so you arrive twenty minutes beforehand.    Your ticket gets scanned and you shuffle into the auditorium. There are lots of people, a sea of glamour, couples going on dates to musical fanatics eager to watch their favourite theater performance to critics ready to analyze the show. You tug on your little black number that ends at your knees — it’s modest and simple, but one of the many dresses that you never got to wear. But there's not a lot of time to be self-conscious or to second guess yourself. The people are a tide that rushes in, and you’re overwhelmed, pushed forward by their force and unable to escape.   The theater is grand, brightly lit with the red curtains pulled down. You find your seat and hug the small bouquet of flowers in your lap.   When the show finally begins, the lights dim down completely and it’s glorious. Music begins to play, thundering through the auditorium, and men march onto the stage holding sledgehammers. “Look down, look down. Don't look 'em in the eye.”   Your eyes search for Jimin, but he’s not here.   If you remember the details of his role correctly, you have a feeling he won’t show up for a while. So you sit back and try to relax and watch. But the anticipation and excitement of seeing him keeps you on alert. Any time there are characters entering the stage, your eyes always scan across.   It’s not until an hour later that you finally see the familiar boy at the very corner of the scene, catching the edges of the spotlight. Immediately, a smile tugs into your cheeks.    Jimin’s singing with the others, wearing a long brown coat with disoriented hair. He plays the part of a young man from a rich family well. You can practically see the fire in his eyes.   “Look down and show some mercy if you can! Look down, look down, upon your fellow man!”    The song is similar to an anthem, riling up the crowd for a revolution. “It'll come, it'll come, it'll come... It'll come, it'll come, it'll come…”   Jimin doesn’t have a main role, but he’s still on the stage of Broadway, singing with many others. You’re happy to see him, elated that you know the boy that’s actually performing, and you have to hold back from giving a sudden standing ovation.    “Before the barricades arise?”   The crowd breaks up as the police enter the stage and just like that he disappears again. But ten minutes later, it’s his time to shine again. Jimin’s one of the nine men — the main character, Marius, and the supporting character, Enjolras, taking the limelight, but he’s one of the many students sitting around a table, at a supposed bar.   “Red!” one of them sings.   The male playing Marius faces the audience. “I feel my soul on fire!”    “Black!”   “My world if she's not there!” the main actor responds with vigor.   “Red!” Jimin belts with others.    “The colour of desire!”   “Black!” he sings again, and you can pick up his voice between the timbre of others.    “The colour of despair!”   Jimin sings with the actors and it echoes throughout the theater. While he never sings a line by himself, you can still hear his tone ever so slightly before it melts away. “The dark of ages past! Red — a world about to dawn! Black — the night that ends at last!”   His appearance is sweet albeit short. You see him one more time right before the intermission when the cast comes onto the stage and sings for the hope of the future in ‘One Day More’.    Afterwards, it’s a fifteen minute break. It’s an hour and a half through the show, but the intermission allows people to relieve themselves at the restrooms or grab a drink at the bar. In your case, you stick around, grasping the bouquet. The brown paper crinkles under your grip and you peer at the curtain as if hoping he’ll run out.   Instead, you catch Jimin coming out from the left door as the other people are spilling out of the auditorium.   But it’s bad timing.   He doesn’t come to where you are, but towards the orchestra section, right by one of the closest rows to the stage. An older woman and man stand, clapping and jumping. He runs into the woman’s arms and squeezes him.   It’s his parents, and you smile before turning around to walk away, not wanting to interrupt the intimate moment with your presence. His parents must be proud.   You’re happy for him.   //   The show continues afterwards. Jimin makes a few more cameos here and there without singing any lyrics, simply in the crowd at the barricades. Although, he does say a few lines.   “See! The people unite!” — “So what are we going to do with this snake in the grass?” — “You wear an army uniform.” And when Éponine dies, he comforts Marius. “She will not die in vain…”   But Jimin does sing one line by himself in the song ‘Drink With Me’. His eyes sweep across the audience floor as he steps forward, pretending to take a swig of the empty beer bottle. “Here’s to pretty girls who went to our heads!”    And you swear he looks right at you.   As if he had memorized where you would be seated.   But Jimin looks away right after, his eyes passing your spot. You release your held breath, realizing it was your imagination. There was no way he could actually see you.   The show lasts another forty minutes, filled with the spectacular performances of the leads, their beautiful voices that captivate your attention and everyone else’s. During the finale when the storyline has wrapped up, everyone comes onto the stage again. You see him one last time there.   Jimin is singing, smiling wide, looking out at the audience.    It could not be a better Broadway debut.   You muse that he truly belongs on the stage — there’s no place else he should be. Along with the rest of the audience, you give a standing ovation. The applause roars throughout the auditorium, actors and actresses bowing and waving goodbye.    When it dies down, the bright lights come on again. People begin trickling out and you’d leave as well, if not for the bouquet of flowers you’re still holding onto.   You look around. “U...Um excuse me…”   You stop someone who looks like a worker and they blink at you, confused. You swallow hard and hand over the flowers. “C-Can you give this to Park Jimin? He was an actor in the production.”   “Sorry.” The teenager awkwardly points to a family that’s gathering their belongings to show he’s with them and he offers a kind smile. “I don’t work here.”   “O-Oh. Sorry.” You bow your head and they say it’s no problem. But you’re still cringing from embarrassment, and now you don’t know what to do, how to give it to him without having to face him. You should’ve thought about this better.   But before you can contemplate any solution, you hear a sudden—   “Y/N?!”   Jimin’s sweaty. Like he sprinted here as fast as he could the second the curtains fell. His parents are nowhere in sight, probably in the lobby, but he's here with you. Still in costume. The nineteenth century french clothing — blue trench coat, puffy white shirt underneath, brown slacks.   His hair is riled up with what looks like soot pressed to his cheeks, makeup of some sort that makes him appear even more disoriented and soiled. But he doesn’t care. You don’t either.   His chest rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath. The two of you stare at each other, pupils locked into one another’s, holding the other’s attention. Captivated. Then after a beat, the biggest and goofiest grin spreads into his face. It’s enormous, causing his eyes to crinkle into half-moons.    “You came! You...actually came!”   “Y-Yeah…” You’re stunned and you tear your eyes away, the intensity becoming too much for you to handle. Your arm extends. “These are for you.”   “Flowers?!” He breathlessly giggles and takes them. Jimin doesn’t fail to notice that they’re all shades of purple, from lilac to violet. Because of you, purple has become his new favourite colour. “I love them. Thank you!”   “C-Congratulations on your debut, Jimin.”   He grins, so much that his rosy cheeks look like they’re about to burst. His teeth peek out, eyes crescent moons. “Thank you. I’m glad you could make it.”   “S-Same here…..” You don’t know why he’s gazing at you so intently at you. It makes it hard to keep eye contact. “You were really amazing.”   “I didn’t have that many lines,” the boy giggles, still giddy and hyperactive. It makes you smile.   “But you were still good.” There’s a lot of things you’ve been wanting to tell him, a million versions of an apology that you’ve practiced in the mirror. And now that he’s here and you’re no longer staring at a reflection of yourself, you gather your courage to face your regrets. “You deserve it, Jimin. I’m...sorry for everything that I said. I’m sorry for being resentful towards you. I’m sorry for being jealous. It wasn’t your fault. And all those things I said to you, I didn’t mean it. A-at the time I did, but now I don’t...I don’t know if that makes it any better but...yeah….I just…..you were great, you worked hard, so…”   It’s the shittiest apology. Worse than the first one you practiced. But you can’t get it out right.    You feel nervous for the first time in Jimin’s presence. A kind of anxiousness that doesn’t make you feel sick. Rather, you feel something else in your stomach — it’s fluttery. Something uncertain brewing there, stirring at its pits.   It feels similar in your chest. It isn’t a foreign sensation, but one you had ignored for a long time now.    Jimin suddenly laughs, noisy and hearty. It squeaks, a higher pitched giggle. It makes you look at him, eyes hesitantly lifting off the floor. And then you yelp.   Jimin picks you up right off the ground, arms locked around your waist. He spins you in a circle, squeezing ticklish laughter out of you. Your hands immediately come to grab his shoulders. The boy is unable to contain the adrenaline pumping through his veins and the overwhelming joy of you being here.   “Jimin!” you squeal.   He laughs. “God, I’m so happy that you’re here!”   “Did you think I’d miss it?” you quip and it feels like forever since you’ve been able to joke around like this. “Not for the world, Park!”   He sets you down to your feet again. His swelling smile might just break his face. He nuzzles into you, hair tickling your forehead. Jimin hugs you tight. He’s so happy, you can practically feel it radiate off of his skin. And your chest blooms with pride instead of envy. “Your Broadway debut was amazing. It only gets better from—”   “Can I please kiss you?”   Your heart stutters.   Jimin pulls himself apart from you. The sudden question has you blinking twice. But the temptation for Jimin has gotten too much. If there’s one thing that could make tonight even more perfect, it would be him kissing you…   You glance at his plush lips before your pupils flicker back to his eyes.   “You don’t need to ask.”   Just like that, he roughly tugs you in by the small of your back. The flowers lose a few petals from the harsh motion. But Jimin doesn’t care. He kisses you like he’s been waiting to do it for months now. He kisses you like he wants you. He’s hungry for it and savours your whimper that’s muffled between his soft lips. He’s been wanting to hear your voice like this.   Jimin’s half-lidded eyes soak up your pleasured expression before he gives in, shutting them to succumb to your scent. He breathes you in and you become helpless in his arms, the pad of your fingers pressing against the nape of his neck. You’re unsure if you want to part just to gasp for air, or if you want to push him even closer.   But your thoughts turn to mush as his hot tongue licks inside your mouth, eager. The pair of you don’t care that other people might be watching, that you’re placed in the middle of the auditorium, that you’ve stolen the spotlight.   When the both of you break apart, you stumble back from each other, mouths swollen. You wipe away his saliva that’s made your lips shiny with the back of your hand. The both of you are dazed and embarrassed, catching your breaths, his own cheeks reddened.    You divert your eyes from one another. But then infectious giggles spill over.    God, you might’ve been in love with Park Jimin for a long time now.

Director Lee sits at his desk with a sigh.   He shuffles his papers before sitting back in his swivel chair, unsure. Right at that moment, a blonde, lean man enters with a hot brewing cup of coffee. The assistant sets it on his desk.   “Are you sure you should be taking in caffeine this late at night?”   “Not like I’ll be able to sleep anyway.” He brings the cup up for a small sip. “I’m still deciding on the main cast.”   “Who do you have?”   “The casting director narrowed it down to these people.” He lays out the applicants of possible options and sighs. “Now I just have to decide who’s going to be part of this and who’s who. You should’ve been there today, Kim. If you weren’t late, you might be able to help me right now.”   “Sorry.” Taehyung sheepishly grins. “My alarm clock didn’t ring.”   The director is disgruntled, but still playful. “Same excuse every time, Kim.”   Taehyung laughs, but still tries his best to assist. He scans over the applications haphazardly, but then his breath hitches. He turns his body to get a better look and his eyes grow wide, recognizing you. “Oh. What about her?”   The director follows to where his assistant is pointing and hums a low note. “Oh. Her. We called her since we heard she was the ghost singer of Phantom.”   “Oh yeah.” The blonde nods. “I heard about that.”   “I was thinking about tossing her papers.”   “Why?” Taehyung looks at his mentor, genuinely curious.   “Well, her audition was….” He struggles to find the right words. “Impactful. It was really something. She stood out, that’s for sure.”   “Then….?”   “I just don’t know if we could find the right place for her.” He shrugs and taps his finger against the armrest of his chair. “She might outperform the other actors and actresses.”   Taehyung makes a noncommittal sound at the back of his throat. “I don’t know. But I think she should be considered for a role. That’s just me, but I have a good feeling about her. You said it was impactful, right? Isn’t that what we should be going for?”   Director Lee glances at his assistant, but Taehyung simply smiles and waltzes out the room.

[jimlingss]

The Colour of Our Voices [6]

Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 6.5 OR Chapter 7

➜ Words: 4.1k

➜ Genres: 98% Fluff, 2% Angst, Slice of Life, Broadway!AU

➜ Summary: He wasn’t supposed to hear. He wasn't supposed to know. But the instant Jimin came into your life and pulled the curtains back, you couldn't hide backstage anymore. You were no longer merely a phantom of the opera.

cr.

You try not to let the negative, disgusting feelings get to you.   But envy is a monster that keeps hovering over your shoulder, always peering at what you’re doing, always making petty comments in your weakest moments. You try to tune it out, but it constantly tempts you in whispers to be honest with yourself.   It’s hard to keep it at bay too when every turn you make, you see Jimin’s face. From the moment you step outside the comfort of your apartment to when you get back — he never gives you a moment to compose yourself, to heal, to overcome the green monster. He sticks to your side like gum and you can’t help the way your resentments build into hatred.   “Did you hear?” there are murmurs as you’re cleaning up a spill on the floor, knees sore and bruised blue. The director spilled his coffee and immediately pointed at you and told you to take care of the mess.   “What?”   “Jimin got a role in the Les Mis production.”   “What? Really?” she gasps. “That’s impressive. No wonder he’s not here today.”   “I knew he could do it, he’s cute. I’d let him have his way with me.”   “God, you’re never satisfied, aren’t you?” There are snickers and giggles. “But he must be really good. Didn’t he just come here too? But we should see if we can get tickets to watch.”   “Good idea. I’d love to see him on stage,” she hums. “I wonder if he’ll quit this job.”   “Probably. Working as an intern here is pretty much working as a slave for the director. It’s a shitty ass job,” she mutters and you can feel their heavy stares on your backside. “Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”   “Shame,” she sing-songs. “I was hoping he’d stick around.”   Your hand crumples into a tight fist, into the dirty cloth that’s stained your skin. Then you scrub harder until your fingernails hurt, until it’s as painful as the way your eyes sting.   //   Your appetite is gone. You can’t swallow your food despite having skipped lunch — the director had sent you on a wild goose chase to pick up a package at the post office and by the time you were done, your lunch break was long over.   You play with dinner using your fork, and Jimin doesn’t notice. He keeps talking about all about him and his accomplishments. You didn’t want to be here in the first place, but he insisted on going out for a celebratory dinner, pressured you into it even when you tried rejecting him.   And here you are.    “So I came in today for the first time, and it was so exciting. You wouldn’t believe it, Y/N. You were right when you said the Phantom production was low-budget. These sets that some other musicals have are a world’s difference.”   “I see.”   Jimin stuffs his cheeks with french fries, getting ketchup at the corner of his mouth. “I’m starting officially on Monday, so I’ll probably quit my internship. I already gave the director a call to let him know tomorrow will be my last day and he sounded pretty happy for me. He even said he’d write a recommendation letter if I ever needed one.”   You drop the fork in your bowl, retracting your hands into your lap. “Wow, that’s really great, Jimin.”   “I don’t think I’ll need a letter any time soon.” Jimin smiles and shakes his head, sipping on his soda. “I’m just so psyched to begin rehearsals. They ran me through a few things and what my costume will be and what it’ll look like before we perform in a few months. Sometimes I just can’t believe that I’m actually there. It’s just surreal to think about how I’ll be on stage. Everything at that production is so amazing, Y/N, completely different from Phantom’s production, you should’ve seen it.”   “Yeah. Wish I could’ve….”   “And now people are taking my coffee orders! Can you believe that?!”   You can’t even muster a smile. There’s a thick lump formed in your throat that hurts to talk past and you’re holding back from crying, not wanting to lose the last shreds of your pride.   Jimin doesn’t know that you never asked to hear any of this, that his innocent gloating is grating to your ears.    “I couldn’t have done it without you.” He gives a cheesy grin and then bites into his burger and puts it down after wiping his mouth free of the sauce. “Seriously, if not for you, I probably wouldn’t have made the role. I didn’t know what I was doing before you taught me the ins and outs of the industry. I bet I’d still be at home rolling around in bed.”   Your tight lipped mouth attempts to pull. “You’re welcome.”   “I’d love to make it up to you some time...s-so...uh...I-I’ve been meaning to ask something.” Jimin nervously laughs and scratches the back of his neck.   You wonder why you’re here, why you’re allowing yourself to feel this misery. You should be at home, underneath the covers of your own bed. Not out here in the cold feeling humiliated. You’ve wasted enough time on Jimin and he’s gotten what he wanted from you.   The two of you are no less than strangers.   “O-Of course, only if you want to, no pressure whatsoever, but there was this theater show coming up tomorrow, I was wondering, well I wanted to ask, um, if you wanted to j-join, I got tickets—”   You don’t hear him. Too busy in your own thoughts.   You grab your bag. “I’m not feeling very well, Jimin. I think I’m going to head home first.”   His eyes are owlish, big and rounded, blinking at you. The boy looks at your unfinished food and then back at you in alarm. “Are you okay? Do you need me to bring you to the hospital? What’s wrong?”   “No, I’m fine. I’m just—” You sigh, unable to come up with a coherent explanation. “—tired.”   Tired from the day. Tired of your life. Tired of him.   Jimin stands when you do. “We can go back together.”   “No, it’s fine,” you insist as lies roll off your tongue, “I might actually stop by a friend’s house tonight.”   “Do you want me to walk you to the subway then? I can go right now—”   “No, it’s okay. Promise.” You can’t bring yourself to smile at him, to spend one more second in his presence. You’re scared you might permanently hate Jimin. “See you.”   “Bye…” His hand lifts to wave, watching you walk away.   Once you’ve disappeared from sight, Jimin dejectedly plops back down into the seat of his booth. He peeks into his pocket and sighs as he looks at the two tickets to the show. He shouldn’t have been so nervous. He wonders what he should do with them now.   But next time. Next time for sure, he’ll ask you on a date.

You’re strung around a lot.   You realized this after your many encounters with Jimin, but everyone in your entire life has strung you around like a pet for their own amusement. Even now, the director brings you places to do his dirty work for him while making you believe that he’ll give you a reference someday, that he’ll give you a chance.    But if you’re honest with yourself, you know he’ll never do it.   He’ll never pick up his goddamn phone and call an agent for you. He’ll never give you the praise you deserve for being his ghost singer. And these facts alone are enough for you to want to grab the nearest brick available and smash it on his dumb head.   But you can’t do that as irritated and as pissed off as you are these days. You can’t go to prison and you can’t quit this shitty job. You need money from somewhere, and you won’t be succeeding in any auditions any time soon — you know that too.   You’re stuck. Trapped in your own inability to succeed. Stranded in your own routine. Even when the entire world keeps moving.   You feel like you’re in a glass case, a phone booth in the middle of the metropolis, watching the universe continue, watching how others move past you.   “Intern. Intern!”   “Huh?”   “Did you not hear me?” The director sighs and rubs his temples. “Don’t make me regret bringing you here, alright?”   Except he didn’t bring you here willingly. Taeyeon couldn’t come to the networking event — the stupid party for ‘charity’ that was actually meant for the sponsor to brag about his wealth. The invitation became open and he saw you staring at him intently, so he reluctantly told you to come with. But now the director was acting like he has bestowed onto you a huge honour.   “Go get one of the waiters to bring those finger food platters to us. They keep running out by the time they get to this side of the room.”   “Yes, sir.”   You remind yourself this job is a privilege. A privilege.   You cut through the room and crowds that make you sweaty. It feels as though everyone’s eyes are on your backside despite knowing that logically no one cares. You’re a ghost in the sea of fancy dresses and glamour.   “—And so, one day I just told him that of course we had to eat during the layover, we were in Italy for god’s sake. It’s eat-aly for a reason.”   Seokjin seems to be enjoying himself. He’s drawn in a crowd with his handsomeness and godly appearance. Even his ridiculous jokes rouse laughter. You’d probably giggle along if he ever wanted to entertain you, but at this point, you might end up bursting into tears after laughing.   “You’re so funny, Jin.”   “Am I? Hmm. Always thought I should do stand-up comedy.”   You continue making your way, catching a waiter walking past and in an attempt to grab his attention, you dive straight through a hoard of people. Apologies roll off your tongue while they grunt. But by the time you get to the other side, the waiter is gone.   Instead you see someone else — the person that you wanted to see the least in the whole entire world.   “Actually, I started in community theater.”   “Oh, really?! What did you do?”   “Well, I did a lot, but I think my favourite role was when I did Peter Pan. That was pretty fun and a really good experience.”   “I can see that.” The suited man hums. “Can’t you?”   “Yes.” The woman on the man’s arm is swooning over the younger boy. “I think that role is rather fitting.”   The brunette is dressed in a well-pressed suit that looks brand new, as if he had just got it off the rack yesterday in haste. But he looks comfortable surrounded in his new group, probably members of his production.   You watch for a second from afar, stuck at another standstill, feet rooted in the ground. Jimin gets along with people easily. He’s only shy on the surface. It’s smart to talk to so many people and to expand his horizons, to actively socialize. He’ll probably get more connections here at the event. It’s only up from here.   You’re envious that Jimin is being presented as a new Broadway actor while you’re just an intern.   Though you sigh with a smile despite your inner turmoil. For a second, one small second, you’re almost happy for him—   But the timing is poor.   As you turn away to fully disappear, he catches you out of the corner of his eye. And Jimin takes a step forward, calling your name out loud, clear and crisp in the air. You shut your eyes, hoping your ears are mistaken, but they aren’t.   He dismisses himself from his new colleagues and comes over to you with the biggest smile.   “I didn’t know you would be here, Y/N!.”   “Y-Yeah, um, I’m here as an intern.”   “Oh, I didn’t even see the director. I should go say hi.” Jimin glances up and down at you. You wonder if he’s judging your meager attire when everyone else is glamorous. But you don’t let your thoughts stray too far into self-deprecation.   You inhale a huge breath, trying your best to get along with him.   “You look like you’re having a fun time.”   “Hardly,” Jimin admits. “I just came since everyone else did and I didn’t want to be that new guy who didn’t come to social events, y’know?”   “Yeah, I get it.”   You wonder when it became so hard to talk to him.   “The food here is actually pretty good, have you had a chance to try it yet?”   “No, not yet.”   “I recommend the tiramisu and truffle fries. It’s delicious. Here we should go to the buffet table.”   “Actually, Jimin, I have to go—”   “There’s something I want to tell you,” he interjects with a softened smile. Jimin waits patiently for your response, so you nod, following him for the sake of not being awkward.   The two of you come to a quieter spot by the corner of the room where the tables are.   “What is it?”   “Earlier I was just walking around trying to make conversation with different people and I spoke to this guy and we had a pretty regular conversation, but it turns out he’s the casting director of an upcoming, original production!” Jimin’s excitedly rambling, sharing the good news with you as if you’re close friends. “It’s called When Summer Meets Winter, and there’s nothing official yet, but he said he really likes me. Do you think I’ll get a part?”   You don’t know why he’s telling you this.   “I...I don’t know, Jimin.”   “Can you believe it though? If I had another role lined up right after this one?!”   “Congratulations,” you deadpan.   “Well nothing’s decided yet.” Jimin sheepishly smiles, unaware of how he was literally pouring kilograms of salt into your wounds, gallons of gas into the fire.   “Is this what you wanted to tell me? I should really get going, Jimin. I’m on the job right now. And I can’t afford to get fired.”   “Wait.” He grabs your wrist before you can turn away from him, desperate eyes asking you to stay for a moment longer. “I...a-actually wanted to ask you something…..and I’ve been meaning to do it for a while now but I never really got the chance, well that’s not true, I had a lot of chances but I chickened out because I was a coward—”   “What?” you sigh in exasperation, annoyed beyond belief. “What is it, Jimin?”   He looks you dead in the eyes. “Will you come with me to an improv class?”   “Pardon?”   “There’s an upcoming improv class. I heard about it, and it’s free. It’s just that we had gone to so many shows before but we never got a real chance to participate, so I thought it would be really fun.”   You don’t want to. Thinking about it makes you scared. And you still haven’t healed from your most recent failure.   “I don’t think so, Jimin...I…”   “Please?” he insists, “I think it would be so much fun.”   “I’ve been pretty busy—”   “I haven’t even told you when it was yet! How would you know if you’re busy?” Jimin laughs, the sound bubbling out of his throat. “And plus, they have a lot of days available.”   There’s an extended silence.    It’s too much work to reject him, to find an excuse, to make this more awkward than it needs to be. You just want to leave, want him to let you go. So you agree. “Fine.”   He grins. “Okay. It’s this Friday at seven. I’ll see you then?”   “Sure. But—”   You’re interrupted by a yell. “Y/N! Where did you go? My god, I sent you to do one task and you got distracted like this?” The director is appalled as he comes over, shaking his head, outright humiliating you.   And Jimin smiles. “Director Kang! How are you?”   “Jimin!” The older man smiles and hugs him. “What’s my favourite intern doing here?”   “I came with my new production team.”   “Up on the high ranks now, aren’t you?” Director Kang slings his arm over Jimin’s shoulder as if the pair of them are sharing a secret. “Make sure to remember who got you there. It’s good to show gratitude.”   Jimin steals a glance at you. “I remember.”   But by then, you’ve already turned away, grabbing the nearest waiter and asking him to bring over a platter of finger foods for the director.   People might see you as a timid mat to walk all over. But you just really itch to set the whole place on fucking fire.    //   Friday comes too quickly, and once you step outside to face the consequences of your decisions, Jimin is there to greet you with a smile as if to show how perfect his life is going.   On the way there, he summarizes his week and somehow gives extensive details — from the rehearsals to the new things he learnt, to how amazing the cast is and what it’s like to work with people who are passionate about musicals. You tune him out, and fortunately you arrive soon enough.   It’s a dingy entrance way and a hall that leads to a lit studio. But as skeptical as you were, there’s quite a few people there. There are around thirteen folks who are both friendly as they are invasive. Though Jimin is comfortable with them while you linger behind him.   It quiets down when the teacher steps into the room.   “Hello everyone.” The blonde with bright eyes flashes a boxy smile. He’s dressed in a loose dress shirt, tight trousers, a sophisticated but casual outfit. And he’s charming, outspoken, drawing the attention of the crowd. “Looks like we have some new faces today, so I’ll introduce myself. My name is Kim Taehyung. I am an aspiring screenplay writer and producer, currently assisted to Director Lee if you know who he is. And today, I am your improv teacher, director, leader, whatever you want to call it.”   Kim Taehyung….   Everyone goes around the room to introduce themselves, and your fixation on Taehyung shatters when Jimin, next to you, announces himself.   “Hello! My name is Park Jimin, and I’m currently working towards my Broadway debut.”   “Oh, impressive,” Taehyung genuinely expresses, eyes twinkling with curiosity. “What production are you in?”   “Les Mis.”   “Wow.” He nods with a smile and looks off at you. You feel the entire focus of the room shift onto you and you begin sweating, uncomfortable, panicking.    “I’m Y/N…” You cringe at how awkward you are, at how quiet your volume is. Others have to murmur to each other to confirm what your name is.   But Taehyung smiles kindly. “And are you interested in improv, Y/N?”   “A little.”   He laughs, a glorious sound that’s chirpy and melodic. “Well, let’s hope it changes to a lot by the time this is over.”   Taehyung turns to the class afterwards, reassuring that it’s all for fun while explaining what the theme is for today. He also explains the rules, what to do, and how to set up a scene.   “Oh no, a man’s been shot!” someone screams, startling you to death.   “I’m the paramedic.” Someone else steps in right away. “He can only be saved by true love’s kiss.”   “Oh my god, George!” Another comes colliding onto the set up scene, next to the man laying on the ground. Someone asks if she’s his girlfriend and she responds with, “I’m his sister.”   It arouses some stiff laughter. “Well that’s awkward. We need someone to kiss him!”   “Gross, I’m not kissing him,” the supposed sister drops him back onto the ground. “He has herpes.”   “She’s right.” Jimin seizes the opportunity and comes in. “I’m his doctor and he’s contracted herpes through kissing raccoons.”   “Are you sure that it’s herpes and not rabies?”   “I’m sure.”   “They’re very different things.”   “I’m aware,” Jimin says smoothly, thinking on his toes, “But we need someone to kiss him stat.”   “Well, you’re the doctor! Can’t you go through the medical procedures and kiss him?!”   “Sorry. Can’t risk contracting diseases. It’s protocol.”   Someone on the scene asks who they’ll contact now. But it’s so bizarre. You don’t know what’s going on — you can’t keep up — it’s happening too quickly and each time you gather the courage to jump into it, the development is too fast for you to conjure more ideas of what to do or say.   But you’re the next person to step in and everyone turns to you.   You’re apprehensive, nervous. You know you’re bad, that you’ll mess up—   “You can do it,” Taehyung murmurs, having watched the scene unfold. His arms are crossed, but his grin is welcoming and warm. He encourages you with a gentle gesture.   You clear your throat and try strutting into the scene. “I-I’m nurse Joy. I was told there was a bachelor party at this venue?”   Taehyung laughs. “Creative.”   The scene unravels in absolute absurdity. You exchange a look with Jimin before your eyes stray off to Taehyung and stay there. It’s surprisingly fun. It’s not so nerve wracking when everyone’s on their toes, when there’s no real audience or anyone to scrutinize you.   Everyone’s a part of the performance.   “There’s no right or wrong,” Taehyung tells, approaching your side as another scene is unfolding. “Try to relax more into it.”   “Okay.” You take his advice and he smiles, endeared.    An hour eventually passes and class is dismissed. Everyone bids farewell and you’re gathering your belongings when Taehyung comes up to you while wearing his coat, balancing his own briefcase.    “You’re really good. It was your first time, right?”   “Y-Yeah.” You try not to show how flustered you are over his praise. “Thanks, I don’t think I’m any good.”   “Don’t say that. It all comes with practice and hard work.”   “And luck,” you add. Not everything can be achieved through perseverance — you realized that a long time ago.   “That too. But did I end up changing your mind?”   “About what?”   “Are you a little more interested in improv?”   You consider it for a moment before becoming honest with your emotions. “A little…?”   “Only a little?” Kim Taehyung gives an exaggerated huff, obviously teasing you. “Aw, jeez, I failed, didn’t I? I was hoping you’d love it by the time it was over.”   “Maybe next time I’ll love it more,” you banter back to him and he laughs.   “So I’ll see you again?”   “Maybe.” You shrug.   Taehyung smiles, the corner of his mouth tilted gingerly. He glances down at his shoes before peeking up at you past his bangs and thick lashes. “What do you do, Y/N?” he asks in a husky timbre that has your chest stuttering.   But you don’t know what to say. You’re embarrassed to tell him you’re an intern. You’ve never been proud of that title and somehow, you find yourself not wanting to tell him.   So you opt to evade it playfully. “Why do you want to know?”   He hums a low note. “Because I’d love to know your availability—”   “Y/N?” He’s interrupted by a soft voice and when the both of you turn, you find Jimin has been standing at the doorway, having watched the entire interaction. His cheeks are pink and he tensely hitches a thumb over his shoulder. “We...should get going. Wouldn’t want to miss the train…”   You look back at Taehyung. “Um, I really had a fun time today. Thanks for teaching…”   “It’s my pleasure, Y/N.”    You like the way he calls your name. The way the syllables roll off his tongue. It sounds nice. Pleasant.    When you walk out the door and glance back, you see his boxy grin and cheerful wave. You wave back to him with a kind of smile that hasn’t reached your features in a long time.   “Did...you have fun?” Jimin peeks at you as you’re on your way back.   “Yeah, surprisingly.” You smile up at the night sky before turning to Jimin. “Taehyung’s super nice, huh?”   “Yeah. He is. He’s pretty good looking too.”   “I know, right?” You giggle. “I thought I was the only one who noticed.”   The two of you keep walking, but you don’t realize when Jimin’s steps slow. You don’t come to see the dismayed expression on his face.   It’s the first time in a while that you feel this good.