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leahplayz13 · 17 days

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Rockstar Revelation

Chapter 1

[Male reader-insert, amab, reader is mistaken as a woman but doesn't correct anyone. Andrew x Male reader.]

She always looks so peaceful on stage. Even though she’s shouting and saying wild things, she remains surprisingly calm.

Ashley always forbids me from going to (stage name's) shows, but I still go. (Stage name) is captivating when she sings. However, the current lyrics she’s performing are rather unconventional: "I bleed for you, and now I’m gushin. I bleed for you, but you never cared." Although it is quite a strange lyric to be singing, everyone has appreciated her songs very much.

At the end of the show, Y/N walks to the center of the stage. "Thank you everyone for coming out," she waves as she walks off the stage with her bodyguards. Everyone runs up to her, trying to get any type of attention from her. Which she happily turns around and agrees to sign autographs.

Whenever Andrew gets to the front of the line, he has a plushie of her, and she smiles as he nonchalantly hands her the plushie, not wanting to seem too eager. She takes the plushie and signs the tag, then lifts it up and smiles. "I hope you had a nice time at the show. This is the second-to-last show." Y/N smiles as she hands him the plushie back.

"I'll let you in on a little secret." Y/N leans into his ear to whisper, "My next album is going to be pop rock." She then backs away, smiling, "I've already written a song for the album. Wanna hear it?" she says, putting her hands behind her back. "Yeah, sure," Andrew says, trying to act cool and collected even though his favorite singer is whispering in his ear. He almost lost his balance there.

"Oh, I think you're standing on my left foot; it's hurting, but that's ok cause I'm in your way. You'll break that foot that you're standing on; I'll walk with the other one." Andrew was mesmerized by her singing and how she was composing and sharing a lyric with a fan she just met. "That was amazing," Andrew responds after he sees Y/n waiting for his feedback. "Thanks; also, do you want a picture?" Y/n gets up from her chair to take a picture.

Andrew takes out his phone to take a picture in a slight hurry as she leans on him and throws a peace sign as Andrew takes the photo. Y/n smiles as she gets off him. She waves goodbye as she walks off with her bodyguards. Andrew looks at the photo as he also walks away to his car. He can't let Ashley ever know about this.

|A few weeks later|

When Andrew gets home from grocery shopping, he sees Ashley sitting on the couch on her phone, waiting for him. "I didn't want you to go out by yourself; some girl could have hit on you." She watches him put the groceries away, gets up, and heads to the kitchen, crossing her arms as soon as she gets in there. "What do you care if a girl hits on me? We needed food anyway." Andrew takes out some premade chicken wings and pops them in the oven as Ashley walks close behind him as he walks to the couch, turning on the TV. On TV, it shows Y/n and some interviewees talking about her new album.

"So, (stage name), what is your plan for the new album?" The interviewer sips his coffee, not really all that interested in what the artist has to say. "On my new album, it's going to be a pop rock genre, and I wanted to do something new and exciting," Y/n said with fake laughs, knowing nobody the interviewer didn't really care. "Oh, my (stage name), what made you want to change the genre? I can also see it in your outfit that you're making a big change," he laughs if you dissect his words. He's making fun of her outfit, thinking it's tacky.

"Thank you," Y/n fake smiles, trying not to acknowledge his jab at her outfit. "What made me want to make a change was this amazing fan of mine that I met after my last show." She smiled as she asked one of the people offstage to put up a picture she told them to put up before the show started. The picture was of her and Andrew. The picture she had her photographers take was taken in secret.

"If the person for whom I took this picture is currently watching this show, I would love it if you came to my last show and sat in the front row because I really want you to be on this next album with me." y/n laughs and then starts talking again, but it's very muffled to Andrew because of the shock. Ashley is staring at the woman on the TV angrily.

"You went to her fucking show when I told you fucking not to," Ashley screams as she jumps on her brother to fight him. "Ashley, did you not hear her? I'm going to be on her next album." Andrew still looks bewildered. "No, you're fucking not; she only wants to exploit you for money, or maybe she found you hot and wants to have your babies." Ashley punches his chest. Andrew just blushes at the thought. "You fucking dick," Ashley screams as she beats him up.

|At the show|

"Before the show starts in my latest interview, I talked about a certain fan, and if that fan is on stage, can you please come on stage or my bodyguards please let him on stage?" Y/N shouts out into her mic. Andrew then pushes himself to the front, being pushed by people also trying to get to the front. Once Andrew gets to the front, he taps on one of the bodyguards, and the guard recognizes him from whenever he took a picture with Y/N. The guard excorts him to the stage.

As Andrew walks on stage, Y/N sets her mic down and goes over to him. "Hey, so glad to see you. I'm glad you were watching my interview." Y/N smiles as she talks to him. Andrew can only think this is a dream. "So here is my contact information so we can talk about the album and so I can get to know you." Y/N hands him a paper from her cargo pants. "Alright, I hope you enjoy the show," Y/N yells so everyone can hear as she runs back to her mic on stage.

Andrew walks off stage surrounded by bodyguards, so he doesn't get jumped by jealous fans. As he looked at her number on the paper, he blushed slightly. He enjoyed her last show, not just because he got her number but because she kept glancing and smiling at him during the show. Man, was he lucky?

#andrew graves x reader #tcoaal #the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves #ashley graves #male reader

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withasideofshakespeare · 1 year

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We all know I shouldn’t be allowed to make Tumblr posts after 1 AM, but here we go again… This has been in my brain for so long so now I am going to ramble about it (shoutout to the Hamlet Discord server for joining in the Thinking)

Surveillance Hamlet!!!

(Or, rather, the theme of surveillance in Hamlet and some fun and exciting ways I’d like to see it portrayed on stage assuming this mythical theater program has unlimited money)

(Warning- this thought is undercooked. This is going to get rambly…)

Surveillance is a major theme in Hamlet. Nearly everyone in the play engages in some kind of spying or scheming or is the victim thereof (or both). I love plays as a medium for the fact that each individual performance has the opportunity to completely change which themes get the most emphasis and surveillance is a theme I’d love to see take center stage with Hamlet specifically!

Hamlet is a pretty meta play. It ends with a message on the act of storytelling within the specific context of the story the audience has just watched just after it calls out the “mutes and audience” to the ultimate tragedy for their inaction during the runtime of the play. It’s also been performed and adapted plenty of times with a modern lens. Grief, depression, existential anxiety, and gay people are, apparently, universal pieces of the human experience, but if anything looms larger than ever over today’s society, it’s surveillance. Hell, I’m typing this on a device that is for sure selling my data to the government and probably also scam artists! So give me a performance where extreme surveillance heightens all the other aspects of the play, where Hamlet’s paranoia is exceedingly justified.

First, choose a good venue. Outdoor theater is almost always my favorite, but in this case, choose a massive indoor theater with a movie theater style sound system. Hang massive screens above the stage like you’d see at a big concert.

Now, these actors are going to be doing some major method acting. Put cameras above the stage at all angles. Put cameras in the wings. Put cameras on the crew. Put cameras in the audience- maybe some employee plants instructed to stream the show to the screens from their view or even to obnoxiously take photos and video throughout the show. No matter where these actors go, so long as they’re in character, there’s a camera on them. Put mics everywhere too, so even low whispers are heard from the backrow.

I want this play to start with an attempt at secrecy. The ghost appears, Hamlet begs his friends not to speak of it, but he can hear his whispers echoing right back to him and he knows it’s useless. The curiously missing line where Marcellus, Horatio, and Barnardo do finally swear upon Hamlet’s sword isn’t implied to be there as usual. It doesn’t exist. The ghost is only “satiated” by the coming of dawn, even this first, simple wish remains unfulfilled.

Hamlet spends the end of act 1 wavering between a genuine breakdown and an acted portrayal of madness. Pretending shields him from showing legitimate emotion on those screens.

To be or not to be is performed offstage, but on camera. Hamlet seems to think for a moment that he’s truly alone or perhaps it’s all part of the facade. Either way, emotion gets the best of him eventually and he realizes he can’t escape the cameras (or mortality). He comes on stage for get thee to a nunnery, frantically trying to get away from his ever-echoing voice, only to find a spotlight on him. The lines come across as cruel as they are pathetic. Ophelia is also being watched. Ophelia didn’t decide alone to speak to him. In some ways, she has far less privacy than he does, but Hamlet isn’t looking for solidarity in the watched. He wants to be alone. He wants to not be seen.

When he stabs Polonius, Ros & Guil track him down on the cameras. There’s no need to run, but he tries.

The only time Hamlet is truly outside of surveillance is on the ship to England (and then with the sailors who return him to Denmark). Maybe Claudius doesn’t want the world to know he has sent the prince to be executed, but it is clear that he too has lost any real control of this surveillance system. You saw him praying. Or was it a publicity stunt? Hamlet returns and simply tells Horatio (and by proxy, you) what happened on the ship, maybe resentfully. The only time he gets privacy, he doesn’t need it.

By the final scene, he no longer wants not to be seen. He isn’t sure you see him at all. No, you mutes and audience look right through him as if you know infinitely more than him, as if he hasn’t proven that he knows he is a sparrow that will fall. But you know the lines and he doesn’t.

He asks Horatio to tell his story. Maybe there’s something personal about being told a story rather than watching one play out. Maybe you can’t look through a storyteller.

Hamlet canonically knows he’s being watched. He uncovers Ros & Guil’s spy mission in the span of minutes, kills Polonius in the act of spying on him, and comes to mistrust the people around him because almost no one seems to be genuine with him (besides horatio). But it’s not just the characters, it’s the audience. In his darkest moments, he looks out for just a second, almost begging for help, only to discover that no one is coming to his aid. When he tries to exit, the spotlight follows him and so do the cameras. It’s inescapable. When he delivers the “mutes and audience” line, it should be as accusatory as it is pleading. You, the audience, have seen his life projected on massive screens, you’ve heard his every word and whisper, you know him, don’t you? Yes, you know him better than his closest friends. He’s spilled his soul to you because he knows you can’t be escaped, that you, rows upon rows of darkness to this actor blinded by spotlights, are always watching. Will you help? he asks, one final time. The answer is an obvious no, not because you’re heartless but because that’s not why you’re here. You’re here to see a play.

#hamlet #shakespeare #SURVEILLANCE HAMLET!!!#what does this mean? you tell me #I’ve been in one stage play ever #and what I remember most is the lights #they’re so bright that the audience becomes a mass of darkness #like that super black paint. it’s like the lights are sucking up all the light and leaving you to act in front of no one at all #I was also an audio technician for a musical #I checked our mics and the soliloquy I used was actually to be or not to be #there was something very different about hearing that raw emotion echo right back at me #anyway #maybe we’re the metaphorical government spying on our phones right now or maybe we’re death or just the general unknown #or maybe not #I came up with bits and pieces of this and never reached any conclusions on what it would actually mean if I did the play like this #the budget version is asking the audience to bring binoculars #that’s all I’ve got #can you tell I watched the Jacob Geller infinity video?

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spidermanscientistsimp · 1 year

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mamma mia!

miguel o’hara x performer! reader

author’s note: okay, i’m sorry, this is lowkey a really stupid idea but WHO KNOWS, maybe people will really like it :)) i was going to make a really long fic, but i’m splitting it into multiple parts, with the second one maybe coming out tonight (if y’all enjoy it!). there’s not a lot of RoMaNcE this first chapter, pretty much just scenario setting and character background stuff ❤️❤️❤️

•

“what the HELL am i doing??” miguel pondered as he looked into his mirror. the fearless protector of the multiverse, the spider person to end all other spider people, and the man whom everyone believed was a hollow, shell of himself, was spraying cologne all over his body, sweating up a storm. he was on his way to the theatre on earth 441, something very unlike him, in his finest crimson suit and tie, stressing over every little detail about his appearance. he didn’t know WHY he was so worked up about this night. YOU clearly wouldn’t care. YOU clearly wouldn’t see him in the crowd of thousands… and yet- he hoped. he hoped he could mend things, the damage he had done and make you notice him without a scowl on your face. he missed your smile, and would give the moon and stars to see you beam at him just one more time. the chances of this however were, to put it quite plainly, impossible… and still, miguel ignored odds for the first time in his life, and was swiftly transported to your universe.

•

“charlie, how many minutes do we have until curtain??” you whispered to the elderly stage manager, tying your hair back and trying not to mess up your mic.

“about twenty miss y/n”, the kind man replied, putting a hand on your shoulder kindly, recognizing your nerves.

“perfect, thanks a bunch,” you replied as you trotted swiftly in your heels towards the closed curtain. your line of sight was limited, of course, but it appeared that there was a full house out there.

“well of course there’s a full house, this is broadway after all… nobody knows who you are, no one is judging you y/n l/n”, you reassured yourself. and still… you were terrified. your dream was to sing, to dance, to make millions of people happy. and yet… you still felt like something was missing. was it…. NO. not HIM. you were about to perform for all of new york city, and you did NOT need thoughts of your ex-lover running through your head. he was done. you were done. y’all were done. period.

“PLACES EVERYONE!” charlie yelled, and beckoned you towards the wings, nearly ready to start the show. you zipped offstage, about to grab your prop suitcase and cross to the other side, when you heard your name being called so softly by the man who had known you since you were nothing but a quiet, ambitious girl in manhattan.

“miss y/n… i just wanted to let you know- i’m so proud of you, really. and, your daddy would be so proud too, i just know it. i’m sorry i-”

“damn it charlie”, you thought to yourself as you felt a few tears slip down your face, and you embraced the elderly tech, cutting off his sentence, while muttering a soft “thank you”, before skittering away, wiping your eyes as you went. “this is my big DEBUT, AND I’M NOT HAVING MY MAKEUP RUNNING DOWN MY FACE BEFORE I EVEN START, NOOOO M’AAM”, you yelled at yourself internally as the orchestra began playing, the lights began to illuminate the hardwood stage, and you stepped into the false sunshine, ready to do what you believed you were meant to do. you were going to leave everything out on that stage even if it killed you. but what may have ACTUALLY killed you was the fact that your ex-boyfriend was out in the audience, hand covering his mouth, thinking you were just as beautiful as the day you left him.

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel #miguel ohara #x reader #x reader female #atsv miguel #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #spiderman #spiderman atsv #spiderverse #fanfic #across the spiderverse

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curiosity-killed · 8 months

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I think it would be fun to have a play where you have two casts, so each role has 2 actors who are very intentionally chosen for looking very very similar and then a “director” character. And as the play goes on, the characters start breaking the 4th wall in increasingly desperate ways—less comedy, more you’re just sitting there while someone bleeds out onstage—but every time they do, the show freezes, crew hustles then offstage, and the director character comes out to apologize, throw t-shirts into the crowd, etc. the second cast person is brought out by crew and starts playing the role like nothing’s changed but every time, they’re much more by-the-book and wooden compared to the first and the remaining cast members kind of share looks/get tripped up by the change, etc. Until all the cast has been replaced one at a time and it’s turned into a sort of plasticky Stepford production, but then you start hearing noises offstage and seeing like glimpses of people running behind the scrim or being dragged back into the wings, etc

I don’t know where this ends but somewhere in there toward the end, the original cast would come thru the doors into the audience and essentially turn the seating into part of the stage as the stepford cast continues to sort of go through the motions, increasingly ignored as crew, director, OG cast duke it out amongst the audience

#imagining like at some point the og lead or smth is straight up killed in the audience and the stepford cast #like starts happy birthday or the bows or smth in the midst of the shocked silence #idk this is not original but svss and modern journalism are pointing around my brain #like windows screensaver shit #and i am Unfortunately so wide awake #personal

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wangxianficfinder · 2 years

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Fic Finder

***Remember to go follow @wangxianficfinder, which will be the new source for these posts. (And place to direct your Asks!)***

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1. Hello, I have been trying to find a fic since I accidentally clicked out of it. It’s set in the Burial Mounds settlement days and they start selling produce. The most popular is the black radishes, and lots of people from the gentry, common folk, etc. come to buy the radishes. @boyzcult

FOUND! @allgoodurlsarealreadytaken says this one is Arrivals in Yiling by Crystelia (G, 5k, Wangxian, yiling wei sect) Spanish translation on Wattpad here

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2. Hello! I just found your blog recently but I'm loving it. It has been really helpful. I need help finding a fic a read a few years ago. All I remember is that it was a Wangxian fic, Madam Yu trained Wei Wuxian and taught him some 'female things' (I don't consider it being characteristic of women but for the time it would probably be) and he dresses up as a dancer for a mission on a brothel. Sorry if it's not much, it has been a while. Thank you and have a good day. @multitudeofmes

FOUND! The Darkness Before Dawn by PsycheStellata707 (M, 114k, wangxian, WIP)

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3. hi! can i ask for a fic to be found? the most specific thing i remember is that it's post cql canon, theyre both in the habit of writing letters to each other, there's a part where wwx is drunk and sneaks into a house to write a letter to lwj to begin with something to the effect of "before i lose my nerve," and then a confession. the mode of the paper message was either a paper pigeon(?) or a jin butterfly.(in addition to my previous as, omg im so sorry i just remembered) that wwx fell off the roof (? well it was night) and was also very drunk about it. the whole exchange happened later in the fic than the beginning @xervos

FOUND! tight around my ribs by fruitys found by the asker (M, 22k, Wangxian, two part series)

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4. Do you know a fic where wei ying and lan zhan study a book of stages of qi cultivation i think and they learn how to do it together and then they show it in class because lan qiren was talking about it , but lan zhan could not get pass a stage, so wei ying said that he could not do it so lan zhan was not embarrassed. @angelastro0097

FOUND? 💖 Gentians in bloom by teawater, part 1 of the series (M, 250k, wangxian, series in progress, bookmark by MojoFlower) **I think it might be this one, it has something super similar to that ~Mod L

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5. Do you know a fic was where we ying made their sword have like elemental powers, I think it was because jiang cheng did not have a core but I am not sure and huasiang has like a fan with wind power and fought in the sunshot campaign and his brother was impressed, i think sandu has lightning power like zidian and I think wei ying made the theory with wen qing but I not sure about that also. I also do not if it was a fix it or somo canon divergence but wei ying was like a mad genius @angelastro0097

FOUND! Yearning for Miles by Murahi (M, 346k, wangxian, WIP)

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6. Hi, I love your post and fic finders. There is this fic I have been trying to find in like forever! I only remembered a part though. It was like Wwx was like a vampire? He met baby Lwj maybe the time where lwj's mother recently died. Wwx bought lwj sweets and gifts and rabbits! And sent lwj in jingshi with his talisman. After some time wwx left. In the time waterbone abbys time lwj saw wwx again and hugged him tight lxc was surprised also the disciples to see the stoic jade run and hug someone.

FOUND? Under a Blanket of Black Wings by ChaoticAndrogynous (T, 19k, wangxian, vampire au, social justice, necromancy & vampirism, offstage sex, angst w/ happy ending, fluff)

FOUND? Say Goodbye by letterando (G, 3k, WangXian, LWJ & WWX, it is NOT romantic love, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Hurt/Comfort) WWX is an Immortal Ghost King

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7. Hi! I am looking for a fic where in the war. A maid gives baby A-Yuan to WWX because he was crying and inconsolable . I think he was in a war meeting or something. I’m sorry I don’t remember much about it. Only this scene. Can you or your followers please help me?

FOUND! Lan Yuan’s War by BurningTea (G, 180k, wangxian, WIP)

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8. Hi! I have rec for the fic finder. There was one fic with Mafia leader(?) LWJ and WWX was a pediatrician and he got kidnapped by the mafia because they thought he put a bomb somewhere

FOUND? See What I’ve Become by Vamillepudding (T, 24k, WangXian, Mob, Yílíng Lǎozǔ WWX, Hurt/Comfort, LWJ Needs a Hug, Sickfic, Protective WWX)

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9. Good day. I'm currently looking for two fics and in need of some help. Fic a) I remember LWJ tries to set the jinshi on fire and fic b) has to do with a magic garden where he revives(?) WWX. Thanks in advance ^.^

FOUND? Both A and B might be 💖From my heart's ground. by orange_crushed (E, 38k, wangxian) in which LWJ plants/revives his mother’s garden. I think the burning is towards the end of it. ~Mod L

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10. Hiii!! I hope u r doing well! So glad that ur back! Can I get some help finding a fic? I remember that LWJ is cursed to follow whatever the person tells him to do or smth like that, and JGY uses it against him and ordered him to kill WWX. It's a really good fic, but I can't find it :(( thank u so much💖

FOUND! @mikkeneko, @vasterthanempires and anon say this is Obedient and Bellicose by thunderwear (T, 20k, Wangxian, fix-it, angst w/ happy ending)

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10b. (because I mis-numbered, oops!) Hi! I was hoping you could help me find a fic? It’s Wangxian and was on AO3, where Lan Zhan either owns or manages a bookstore and Wei Ying comes to work there, and when he’s there he keeps trying to make changes to the store. @la-diabla

FOUND! @itsthenerdwonder says, “10b is absolutely read me loud and clear by ana_cp but” it’s hidden behind a challenge wall called “Editing” on AO3. The Wayback Machine captured it 2 times, but I can’t get past the ‘proceed’ page. *** @notsobabblespace provided this enhanced link (make a note of the ?view_adult=true&view_full_work=true following the ao3 address and IT WORKS. (Half the time. I had to start scrolling immediately to keep it on the screen. But this is the most effective thing yet!) ***

SIMILAR! @notsobabblespace says this reminded them of 💖Every book its reader by twigofwillow (T, 22k, Wangxian, library au instead of bookstore, post by Mojo)

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11. hi! there's a fic i'm looking for where lwj and lxc are both royalty and i think wwx was some sort of sorcerer/healer?? lxc is courting wwx at one point even tho wwx says that he likes lwj and later on lwj sees lxc/wwx kissing and misunderstands. wwx doesn't hear from him for a while and he thinks its bc lwj doesn't want to talk to him but he actually broke his arm, and lxc had already explained the situation to him. i can't find it anymore and i've tried every single tag possible ;; thanks!!

FOUND! A Heart Made of Jade by makkurokuro93 (E, 67k, wangxian)

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12. Hello! I am looking for a fic that I have lost! I can’t remember whether it was a time-travel or a canon divergence fic, but Jiāng Fengmian was alive. For some reason WWX had been denied having ownership of any land and is later gifted some? There’s a scene where JFM says something about how WWX is not responsible enough for any real kind of leadership and WWX over hears and is sad. But he’s gifted a city later and he and LWJ move to a house there part time? Then at some point they find Xuanyu of Slaughter eggs and end up raising baby snake-turtles? It’s a rather unique fic; I can’t believe I lost it. Thanks in advance! @shapeshifters-anon

FOUND! 💖 Gentians in bloom by teawater, part 1 of the series (M, 250k, wangxian, series in progress, bookmark by MojoFlower)

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13. Hi! I've been looking for a particular one shot. WWX wakes up after jumping off the cliff and finds himself in a modern hospital, and they think that he's a victim from golden core trafficking, because there's evidence of the removal, and the general starvation. JWY is reluctantly immortal, and they transfer the core back. Thanks! @rebeccabobecca

FOUND! ❤️ Confusion by Vrishchika ( Not rated, 5k, wangxian)

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14. Thank you for all your hard work! I'm trying to find a modern AU fic where LWJ and WWX meet because WWX has a pet rabbit Suiban that keeps escaping. JC was in it too, I think he and LWJ are coworkers. @ldyliberty

FOUND! Mod L thinks (and @justgot1 confirms) it might also be The Bunny Next Door by detailsinthefabric (E, 43k, Wangxian, fluff, soft, bottom!lwj)

FOUND! @notsobabblespace says this could be The Late Great Custody Debate by stiltonbasket (G, 9k, Wangxian) or

SIMILAR! Summer Rain by Sweetlittlevampire (T, 15k, Wangxian, cottagecore)

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15. Here's one for your next Fic Finder post: It was a WX modern AU where the magic element was the first time you touched someone you loved, it left a colorful mark on their skin. Wei Wuxian had no marks at all, which made him think he was unlovable until Lan Wangji investigated the matter. It turned out to be either because of a generalized curse or because of one that YZY put on him (there may have been two different fics with the same premise, I am not positive?) @mikkeneko

FOUND! @xervos says this one is leading tone by silencemostofall (M, 32k, Wangxian, angst w/ happy ending, soulmates)

FOUND! @notsobabblespace says it could also be pastel by antebunny (G, 3k, Wangxian, angst w/ happy ending, soulmates)

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16. Hello you precious being! May I ask for help finding a fic? I recall LWJ & WWX is caught being frisky in a conference or smth, but WWX is disguised so the disciple who caught them thought LWJ is cheating and then suddenly clueless LWJ is the receiving end of many glares and people are subtly being mean to him. Thank you in advance mojo!

FOUND! Anon says this one is ❤️A Flower in Bloom (or Wei Wuxian Crashes a Party) by UmbrellaMartialGod (E, Wangxian, post-canon, crossdressing, post by Mojo)

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17. Hello, there is this fic where..WangXian is punished with 20 discipline whips and they share it by half. But because WWX doesn’t have a core, he can only take a few and LWJ end up receive the rest of the punishment..Can you help? 🥺🙏🏻Thank you in advance! @yellowridge

FOUND! By yellowridge themselves - Ch.8 from Back To Gusu by Museaway (M, 58k, Hurt/comfort, Married life, Corporal punishment, First time, Canon Divergence)

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18. Hello, do you know the fanfic where JC is demonic cultivator while JYL was the sect leader and WWX was already married to LWJ. At qionqi path exept for xuanli it was wangxian child A-yuan (1st month?) celebration. LWJ was injured badly but alive when he went to meet JC in qionqi path. WWX was devasted. JYL tried to talk to him that JC didn't mean it that it was not JC fault, but when LXC found out what she was doing to his brother in law telling him in his emotionless state he was furious.

FOUND! @allgoodurlsarealreadytaken says this one is Down with the Yiling Laozu!! by Marinelifeclub (T, 6k, Wangxian, role reversal, major character death, not jc friendly, wx happy ending)

~*~

19. Hello! I can't find a fic that I read once, maybe you or your followers can help? It's a modern AU and WWX was in a cult, a-yuan was born, and then he left because no one was taking care of a-yuan properly. He's not sure if a-yuan is his kid or not, but he loves him. The fic happens after he's clean and reformed, trying to take care of a-yuan, the cult stuff is the backstory.

FOUND! both @vthx and @immoralq say this is Like a House on Fire by KouriArashi (T, 82k, Wangxian, modern au)

~*~

19b. Hi there! On your next fic finder could i please ask help on finding a fic. It was a wangxian mpreg(?) or something like that. Wwx and lwj had a lovechild (lwj didn't know about him) alongside a-yuan but instead of lwj finding them they're adopted by a woman in a village near the burial mounds and during the years wwx was gone jc through jin ling find them. Wwx also believed that both of them were dead and they reunite at burial mounds when the juniors were kidnapped. Thank you :) @ebbster2012

FOUND! Lost children by EonaSPN (T, 42k, wangxian, LSZ & OCs, JL & LSZ, canonical character death, canon-typical, violence, post-mpreg, LWJ doesn’t find a-Yuan, secret child, ABO)

~*~

20. Hello love your blog!!! Thank you for doing this. I'm looking for a fic where Jiang Cheng strangles Wei Wuxian like in the field when it was raining scene and like he thinks he killed Wei Wuxian and then he meets Lan Wangji who was going to help them and tells Lan Wangji that he killed Wei Wuxian but when Lan Wangji goes and checks finds him alive but barely? It's not the fic by qiankun_pouch but it starts exactly like that but Wei Wuxians alive in the one I'm looking for. Thank you! @mybestfriendisacinnamonroll

FOUND! @mondengel thinks this one might be a star called sun by thelastdboy (E, 53k, wangxian, songxiao, jiang siblings, WIP)

~*~

21. Hi! Can I ask for a fic? It's an AU, where LWJ turns into an animal (bunny, if irc) and any who gets a token or smth around his neck would win his hand. It's not the one set in canon AU, and WWX doesn't know LWJ beforehand. WWX arrives at caiyi, and just hangs around, and knows the bunny's significance, and as such doesn't touch the token? Thank you!

FOUND! Mod L and @notsobabblespace think this is ❤️heartkeeper by postingpebbles (G, 7k, Wangxian, my bookmark, shapeshifting!lwj, cute)

SIMILAR! it’s you, it was always you by myung (G, 8k, wangxian, my post)

*both these stories are based on this tumblr comic and/or this tumblr post by pakastekaappihomo

~*~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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moostaronce · 2 years

Text

Play the Ping Pong

Requested

Pairing: Dami x 8th member!Reader

Word Count: 665

A/N: Anotha One

Tip Jar

Today is concert day. This is your first time doing a cover performance with Yubin and you both are monumentally excited. Truthfully, you find yourself in awe of the situation. Only weeks ago had she done a special clip of this same song with Siyeon but afterwards she came to you with the mind to perform it live with you.

Everyone on the team including your staff knew that the two of you are a couple and they have all been teasing you about the performance. Your CEO made it clear that if a scandal were to come of it then he’d let you decide what to do as far as exposing your 4 year relationship.

With that in mind, you thought you might be a little less nervous but you really can’t settle your mind. You’re pacing back and forth before the start of the concert when you feel a hand slip into yours and squeeze your own. There’s no need to look because you already know who it is.

“Honey, are you alright?” Yubin’s deep voice sends a calming wave over you like she’s just wrapped you in the world’s softest blanket. You squeeze her hand back in turn.

“Just some nerves but I’ll be okay once we’re out there.” She doesn’t say anything else but she remains close to you until it’s time to make your way on stage to open up the concert.

Everything goes well before you find yourself backstage changing for your performance with Yubin. The both of you get ready and wait in the wings for Minji and Yoohyeon to finish their performance. When they wrap up the stage goes dark and they both wish you luck on your way to your opening stage positions.

The performance is going well and you feel yourself letting loose and having fun with it, basking in the joy of performing a couple song with the love of your life. Then comes the finale. You and Yubin had just agreed to do the dip and that was it but when the time came your usually collected and professional girlfriend did something shocking. The members in the wings, and all of your staff gasped in surprise while the audience lost their minds as they all looked on to see Yubin leaning down to give you a strong kiss.

Even through the shock your instinct is to kiss her back so you do. The kiss is much too long to be considered anything but a public display of affection between two lovers and when you separate to go off stage your face is a red as it can possibly get.

You both run offstage to get changed into your group outfits and the whole way the other girls are whooping and hollering after you. You decide not to address the kiss until after the concert ends. It was Minji’s idea to do a brief video to be posted on the Youtube channel and wherever else to come forward with your relationship.

Neither you or Yubin were big on having to talk at length so the video wound up being about 30 seconds where you just stated that you are indeed in a relationship for 4 years going strong and that you hoped Insomnias would look upon your relationship kindly and with lots of love. The outpour of love and support for you both was overwhelming. You took pleasure in watching the fan edits that were made for you and the videos of “evidence” prior to you coming out.

The two of you didn’t really change a whole lot in how you presented in public except for the occasional hand holding photos and people catching you out on dates together. Neither of you were really the type to flaunt your relationship just for the sake of it but the natural affection and loving looks provided more than enough to feed the media and show everyone just how truly in love the two of you are.

#Girl group scenarios #Dreamcatcher scenarios #Dami scenarios #Lee Yubin scenarios #Dreamcatcher x reader #Dami x reader #MooStarOnce

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anxiousbean33 · 3 years

Text

The Black Sails - Chapter 1 - Oh Shit a Fire

Word count - 1673

@sitting-around-and-fantasizing thank you for helping me out with alot of this <3

Slight derealization warning - Just at the end though

Summary -

The Minecraft family has to move due to the recent attacks from the dark kingdom, 7 years after the conclusion of the first war. Unfortunately, the day they had planned to move, there is a raid on their town from the Dark Kingdom, causing chaos throughout not only the town, but also Smp.

ao3 link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30826130/chapters/76099421#workskin

“Wait Mumza, what's going on?” Wilbur questions pulling his old guitar out of a box, “Mum! You can't get rid of this! This was my first guitar!”

“Wilbur,” Kristin says, grabbing the guitar back, “That's the box of stuff we are keeping. We're moving to Smp in a few days, and we need to pack up.”

“What.” He stares in disbelief, “Mum, does Tommy know? You know he won't want to move. I don't want to move!”

“Ayyy seems the Big Man hates the news! HaHA! Take that Wilbur, you are gonna be stuck with me and Tubbo,” Tommy says, throwing his stuff on the couch and dragging him to the other room. “Wilbur, a bunch of other magic users will be at Smp if we go there, then we will be able to fight better! We could be like Dream! Or GeorgeNotFound!”

“Let go of me,” he responds, shoving Tommy off of him, “I don't care about becoming a hero Toms, I want to stay here and play for the town, not move to a crowded kingdom where we only know the Sparklez family.” Walking back into the living room, while Tommy walks back to his room, “Mum, what's the real reason we are moving to Smp? I know it's not to improve our magic, as you taught us really well for people without gems, So What is the real reason?”

“Wilbur…” She sighs, replying solemnly, “I know your 23 and you can move out, so I’m warning you of what's going on, but if you truly want to stay here, you can. I don't want to leave, but if you are happier here, neither me nor Phil can stop you,”

“Wait? What's going on? Something bad has happened right?” he says shocked, as Phil walks in.

“Hey Wil- Oh Kris, did you decide to tell him? Has he decided if he's coming with?”

“No! She hasn't! What's going on Mum? Dad?”

“Will…” His father says, while fidgeting like someone would attack everyone if he said the wrong things, “You know the attacks on Smp and the Towns nearby - the ones that have been happening since the dark war? They recently found out that the Dark Kingdom has risen again, and are going now by Black Sails, they are the ones behind the raids and attacks. We are headed to Smp not only to help them if they need more fighters, but also to protect Tommy.”

“No... this can't… No- There is no way that- but... I thought Blade killed their leader? How are they back?”

“I don't know Wilbs, all that's been released to the public is that they finally found out who was behind the attack's nobody knows who's leading them though.”

“Ok dad, thanks for telling me, if you need me, I’ll be packing.”

Wilbur walks back to his room and starts packing his clothes. Looking out the window, he thinks back to the story his mom told him 7 years ago about the dark war. He continues packing until he hears them. The sirens. Wilbur has never heard them so loud before, it's almost as if… Suddenly there is a loud crash that shoves Wilbur back. He stands up and sees that his door frame has exploded into flames.

“TOMMY! OH, GOD TOMMY FIRE!” He rushes to his brother's room hoping to get him out, but unfortunately the door is stuck and catches fire, “TOMMY STAND BACK I'LL GET YOU OUT!” He shouts while bashing his shoulder against the burning door, once he opens the door, he finds an empty room, Tommy was already in the house. Recognizing that he is out, the adrenaline runs out, and he starts realizing the pain in his shoulder and falls to the floor coughing, a figure rushes over to him, “Dad…?”

“Hey it's okay, c'mon, just stay awake,” a soothing voice talks to him, “My name is BBH, we need to get you out of here. You'll be okay.” He slowly looks up at the hybrid that is saving him, and his necklace that is glowing like the color of fire. “My power is fire, c'mon quickly we need to get you out of here.”

“Bad! Was there anyone in that house?” another voice shouts as Wilbur's eyes start shutting.

“Yeah! Shoot, c'mon kid stay awake! Sap he needs help immediately, his shoulder is badly burned, and he was in the hou-” Bad starts to say as Wilbur out of strength falls unconscious.

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

“Oh boy... Everyone listen here! My name is H. If you don't know where your family is, head to the left. If you need to find a place to stay, head to the right. Someone should direct you to a place where you can stay for tonight, if you live here or already have a place to stay, just head straight and don't be afraid to ask for help,” says to the crowd of townsfolk flooding into the kingdom. “Oh right! If you need medical attention, head to the left and then take a right, we are trying to help as many people as possible!”

Tommy looks around trying to find any familiar face. He looks up and sees Dream talking to the announcer guy, H. Dream turns around and spots Tommy staring up at him, hops offstage and walks over to him. “Hey Tommy, sorry you were moving on a day like today, we weren't expecting there to be an attack today. Just head over to our house, it's the multi colored one you can't miss it I'll send the rest-”

“Dream, who attacked our town?”

“Wait that was you-”

“Yes Big D! It was our town!”

“Shit. Uhm okay... Fuck... that complicates things. Are you hurt? I'm still going to send you to Puffy but I’ll keep my eye out for Wilbur, Phil, and Kristin. Fuck… oh and to answer your question it was the Dark Kingdom, I’ll explain more to you and Tubbo later.” Dream starts running back to the gates to fight off the mobs that have started coming out due to the sun setting and the mass amounts of people flooding into the kingdom. H then starts to repeat his speech to the newcomers and Tommy starts walking towards the house Dream said was the Sparklez house afraid of what happened to his family.

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

When Phil finally arrives in the kingdom he is also greeted by H giving his speech for what seems to be the last time, “Is this all of you? Ok that's good… if ya have a place go straight, need a place go left, right if you were separated from your family the dream team should help you with that and right if you need medical” H then yawns, “Shit- sorry I meant right for if you need a place, and left for medical and finding your family… Man I’m really tired Imma go take a nap, g’night everyone”

Phil does a quick scan around and then walks straight with his luggage to the Sparklez household, anticipating that everyone would be there already, as he stayed behind to fight some of the dark soldiers, just like in the past. He slowly opens the door and is greeted by Puffy, who is watching some cooking show with Jordan and Tommy and Tubbo asleep on the couch. “Where is Will and Kristin? I was one of the last people to arrive at Smp, they should be here by now…” he whispers to the two awake.

“Dream told me Wilbur got caught in your house when it went aflame. Bad was able to get him out, but he was severely injured and is getting medical attention now. We haven't gotten any word on where Kristin is, but Dream will let us know if they find her.” Jordan replies, pausing the show. “We just have to wait for them to find her now, hopefully they find her before the raiders. You guys have had a long day, we can talk to Eret about it tomorrow”

“I’ll probably go check on Will tomorrow then. Uh thank you again for letting us stay here…” Phil sighs, terrified of what happened to his family. “I am going to head to bed now, wake me up when you two plan to head out.” Walking up to the guest bedroom

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

TW - Slight Derealization

“We need to do something… Her army is approaching, we know how to wield magic and fight without it, we can try to fight against them.” Wilbur hears when he starts waking up.

“Dad?” He says confused, he starts to open his eyes and looks around, noticing that his necklace was glowing a gold color, “My magic! Holy shit!” He stands up and starts to look around the house when he hears his parents start talking again.

“What about the kids though? If we do this, my angel, they could be put in danger.” his mothers states.

“We haven't shown anyone our magic, plus you can shift and I have my wings. We could keep our identities secret and leave to fight at night. If we don't do anything, they could get hurt more.” This shocks wilbur, didn't his parents say they never had magic? They weren't hybrids and weren't shifters and were never gifted a piece of magic jewelry, unless they were lying to both him and Tommy.

“What is going on!” Wilbur screams, trying to understand why his parents are talking like he isn't in the room, like he is invisible, like there wasn't just a fire. Irritated, he slams his hand against the table, shocking him awake.

Wilbur looks around again, and instead of being in his house perfectly fine he wakes up in a hospital. Looking down he realizes that his necklace isn't growing any more, and he has lots of bandages on him. “Will! You're awake! The doctors said you probably wouldn't wake up until tomorrow, you got badly burned Wil do you remember what happened?” a voice said, he couldn't tell who it was though before he passed out once again from the pain.

#tw derealization #Kingdom of darkness au #tubbo #philza #mumza #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #captain sparklez #captain puffy #hbomb #dreamwastaken #i did a thing #fanfiction #eret

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slipper007 · 3 years

Note

For the Technical Theatre asks: 14, 16, 22, 24, 33. (Any or all of them please <3)

Good morning, Elly!

I'm going to answer all of your questions from this under the cut because I am dreading starting tech week in an hour, especially because I have over 130 cues to call and sound doesn't know what they're doing

14. Funniest theatre story?

This actually happened Friday (it might not be the absolute funniest but it's all that's coming to mind right now). We brought in our social media dude, Z, to film a TikTok promoting the show, right? So I'm giving him "oh, go now they'll change scenes in a minute" and "this is a good scene, film it from upstage" and so on and so forth. We make it to scene 11 of 12 and he comes back to me, looking devastated. He accidentally deleted all of his footage. So we comfort him as the show carries on, and then our lead starts saying "Z! Z!" (because those are some of her lines) and Z's head just snaps up before he realizes and has another existential crisis. We carry on with the show and get to one of the final moments, where a character self-imolates offstage and his expression goes from existential crisis to pure shock. It only gets funnier when we end the show with the Charlie Brown song for curtain call where they all come out to bow. I really cannot describe how funny his expressions were but just know it was hilarious to see

16. What’s a theatre related inside joke you have?

sooUUPPP

22. Best props experience?

I don't do props very often, but my best experience was probably getting to design and make the title and end cards for our online show last year!

24. Best stage management experience?

I've been managing for 5 years (this is my 6th) and this is my 11th show managing, so I've had a fair number of solid experiences (and some shitty ones, like this show 🙃) but the best one is probably working on Fiddler on the Roof my senior year of high school (even with the actor vs tech drama). Rehearsals went smoothly and stayed fairly energetic. I got to train two new people, who stayed in the wings, and on show nights I got to wander and do all the specialized stuff on stage! I got to be in charge of the fog machine, which is always fun, and helped with setting all major transitions, as well as make sure all tech people were doing things the most efficient way. Plus I perpetually had the bottle of spirit gum because everyone's mustache kept coming off. The music was literally magical and I was able to wander to each of the wings to see my favorite scenes. And there was tasty bread to eat each show night!

33. How did you get in to theatre?

High school had theatre, tried to get involved for fall but never heard back about it (apparently the email got eaten or something). Had Drama 1 in spring, so I was able to do tech (run crew!) for the 2016 spring show, Hairspray. I did run crew again in fall started in stage management 2017 spring and have been doing it ever since :)

#thank you for the ask!#now off to Q2Q for six hours #hhhhhhhh sam stressed #sam answers #elly tag #theatre #technical theatre

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love-and-monsters · 4 years

Text

Emery the Incubus

Hope you’re all in the mood for a short, but sweet piece about two musicians. Also, my finals are coming up in the next two weeks, so I’m going to take a break from writing until it’s all over. I just need a little bit of extra time for school.

M Incubus X GN Reader, 2,793 words

You sat onstage. Your fingers trembled as they worked over the strings, your bow drawing out the notes in long, mournful chords. The song was not complicated, but it was your own, and that bit of nerves makes everything more difficult. When your fingers shake, it is hard to keep them on the right strings. The hand holding the bow was slightly numb and you hoped that you weren’t going to drop it onstage.

The song came to a crescendo, then down to a close. You took a deep breath, stood, and dipped your head in a bow.

Applause filtered up from the audience. You straightened back up, hoping that no one could see your knees shaking from a distance. You couldn’t make out anyone’s faces in the audience, couldn’t tell if they were politely disinterested or genuinely enthusiastic. With another deep breath, you straightened and walked offstage.

Your professor was waiting in the wings and he nodded at you as you moved backstage. “All right. Persimmon, you’re up. Head to the front of the stage. Can we get one of the stagehands to clear everything off?”

Slowly, you made your way all the way backstage, into the little room for performers, and sat down. Your knees refused to stop shaking.

There was only one other person in the backstage room. He did not help your nervousness. He was an incubus- you thought. You were pretty sure. Technically, he could be a tiefling. Both had large, curling horns, thin, often spine-tipped, tails, and larger-than-average canine teeth. Teiflings, though, often had red, blue, or purple skin, while the man in the room with you had deep tan skin. It didn’t mean he couldn’t be a tiefling, though- sometimes they had human-colored skin. What made you suspect that he was an incubus, though, was exactly how pretty he was.

There was something strong and sharp in his features, with an elegant profile and a perpetually thoughtful, half-lidded expression on his face. He was muscular and strong-looking, with long legs and his shiny, black hair was slightly curly and always tied off with a ribbon. It wasn’t just you that thought so. You had seen at last half the students in any class you had with him alternating between staring and desperately trying to look like they weren’t staring. An incubus couldn’t attract people who weren’t attracted to his gender, but anyone who was attracted to men, regardless of whether or not he was strictly their taste, would find themselves drawn to him.

Given exactly how much everyone seemed to fall over him seconds after meeting, you thought that incubus was a good guess for his species.

He fiddled with his bow, plucking a few strings on the violin he held under his chin. His musical skills were fine, if a little bit middling, but he also didn’t need great skill. He was only aiming for a minor in music, his major being taken up by biology.

“How did it go?” You jumped, slightly startled. He rarely spoke, even in class, and his voice tended to be rather quiet.

“It went fine,” you said and felt pleased that you hadn’t tripped over your own tongue. “Are you up next?”

He plucked a few more strings before retuning. “In two.” It was the single longest conversation you’d ever had with him, which wasn’t hard considering that the only competition was an exchange of apologies after you’d run into each other. He drew his bow across the strings, producing a low chord.

“You’re sharp.” The words came from your mouth before you even thought about them. It was practically a reflex. He looked at you. His eyes were a startling shade of purple, and the shock of realizing that prevented a hasty apology for your intrusion.

He stared at you for a moment, then looked back at his violin and twisted a peg. He drew his bow over the strings again, and looked at you in askance.

“Yeah, that’s better,” you said.

“How did you know that?” he asked.

“I have perfect pitch. And a cello and a violin aren’t that different.”

“Ah,” he said. He sank down into a chair and rested his violin on his lap. “I should have guessed.” He rested his hands over his violin, fiddling with his fingers. “I heard your performance.”

You nodded. “And?”

“It was good,” he said. “It was… beautiful.” He picked up his violin, examined it for a moment, placed it back in his lap. “You wrote it?”

“Two of the pieces are my own. The other three are just classical pieces I thought fit the theme.”

“They were all very good,” he said. You shrugged.

“I missed a note in my second piece.” You had also failed to crescendo the preferred amount in one of your own songs and the other had a bit of complicated playing at the end that you hadn’t been entirely been happy with, but hadn’t had the time to keep going over.

“Only one note?” He barked out an anxious laugh. “I’ll be lucky if I miss less than half of them.”

“I’ve heard you play before. You aren’t bad.” There were occasional class performances, and he’d managed to be perfectly adequate every time. He’d never managed anything overly tricky, but he’d also never bombed any pieces.

Persimmon left the stage. The incubus watched her as she passed and as the next performer took the stage. He played with his violin bow, tapping it lightly against his leg.

“I wish I was as good as you are,” he said. You glanced at him. He was staring at the ground, a tight smile on his face. “Then maybe I wouldn’t be so nervous to go onstage.”

“I still get stage fright. I thought I was going to drop my bow when I played tonight,” you told him. He looked faintly surprised.

“Really? But your playing is so beautiful…” He trailed off.

“It never feels good enough. And no matter how many times I practice, I could still miss a note or forget a section. And if I miss one note, I am much more likely to miss more. I am always nervous before I go onstage.”

His expression shifted. “You’d never know. You always look so calm.”

“Practice,” you said. “If it helps, you could probably get away with a charming enough smile. Looks are half the battle when you’re onstage.”

He laughed softly, though he still looked anxious. “Maybe. But I don’t think a nice smile is going to help the audience overlook it if I forget half the song.”

“Emery.” Your professor leaned through the doorway. “You’re on in two minutes.”

“Oh.” He stood up, tail twisting and flicking nervously around his legs. “I’ll... see you.”

He stepped through the doorway. After a moment of considering, you stood up and followed him.

There was a secluded spot in the wings where you could watch the stage. Already, a small group of people had gathered to look. You couldn’t quite see the stage from behind them, but you could hear everything. You closed your eyes and focused on the playing.

The first song was low and mournful, some kind of slow, sad song you didn’t recognize. It was technically well done, but you could almost hear the nervousness in his playing. The beat was just slightly too fast and you could tell his hands were shaking a little on the strings.

The next song was jauntier, more of a dancing tune. He seemed to be less nervous and the crowd took up a rousing clap along with the beat. One or two notes were slightly sour, but they were hard to pick up under the obvious joy of the crowd.

The third and final piece was back to the slower, more solemn theme of the original. It swelled and crested like a wave and made something stir in your chest. There were a few missed notes again, but the emotion of the piece got through. He’d obviously spent time practicing, and his heart was in the music. You decided he’d had no reason to be so nervous. It wasn’t the best playing, but it was certainly good.

Thunderous applause sounded as he exited the stage. You moved back into the back room and started putting your cello away.

Emery entered the room and promptly collapsed into a chair.

“There’s a flower in your hair,” you told him. He reached up distractedly and plucked it free.

“Someone threw a bouquet out of the audience,” he said, twirling the pink flower in his hair. “They’re cleaning the stage off.”

“It sounds like you have an admirer,” you said. He snorted.

“I have many admirers,” he said. Then he winced. “That sounds conceited. I don’t mean to be-”

“Because you’re an incubus,” you said, taking a chance and hoping you were getting his species right.

“Mm,” he said. “I have a myriad of people who would love to be around me because of what I am.” He sounded thoroughly bitter.

“There are worse things,” you said. Emery pulled a face, then sighed.

“I know. I must sound like a whiner.” He leaned back. “It’s gotten me quite far, you know. Or… it did?” He tilted his head, looking thoughtful. “I was an actor, briefly. And a model.”

“In anything I would know?” you asked. He snorted.

“Only if you watch a lot of commercials. Or read fashion magazines for children. I only did it until late high school, but I stopped when I decided to go to college.” He shrugged. “I’m glad I did it, though, if only because it lessened my need to take out student loans.”

“You didn’t like it?” you speculated.

“I was pretty neutral on it, actually. It wasn’t fun, but the money was good. There’s a big demand for incubi in modeling, even if I’m only three-quarters-”

“Really?” you said. He smiled toothily.

“Full incubi and succubi can turn it off,” he said. “Or, at the very least, target it. Shapeshift. I can’t.” He shrugged. “I just have an aura of… attraction. And, of course, the horns and the tail.”

“And the eyes,” you said. He looked at you, startled, then laughed.

“Those aren’t natural, actually. It was a spell they used on me in my modeling days. It went a little wrong- they set the duration for four years, rather than four hours.”

Your mouth opened. “How junior was the spellcaster?”

“It wasn’t her specialty. She was just there to supply makeup and contacts, but she asked me if I would prefer a more magical solution. I’m afraid I can have an allergic reaction to the colored ones, so I agreed. After about four hours, she realized her mistake, went over the spell again. She wasn’t competent enough to undo it, and I’ll admit I like it this way.” He slipped his violin into its case and buckled it closed. “Might even ask for a redo when it’s worn off.”

“I think it suits you,” you said. He nodded.

“I thought about changing my appearance recently,” he said. “But it doesn’t work.”

“You can’t change it?”

“Oh, I can. But my intention was to… dampen my aura? Stop the attraction, I suppose. It gets frustrating. People always look at me, always try to win my attention, I suppose. I can’t ever be… unnoticed.”

“Is that why you gave up acting?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. Well, that and the fact that I wasn’t terribly good at it. Why do you think I never moved beyond commercials?” You laughed and he continued, bolstered. “I don’t particularly want to be famous. I considered music, but you had a point, earlier. Onstage, people do care about the music, but also about the looks. Doing this professionally would just be another way to get eyes on me. Or praise I don’t deserve.” He frowned at the ground. “My applause was just as loud as yours.”

“That’s a strange thing to be upset about,” you said.

“Because they were clapping for me, not my playing. If they had been, your applause should have drowned out mine several times over.”

“Thank you,” you said, “but I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

“It’s true. Your playing is impeccable.”

“We’ve already been over the fact that it was not,” you said.

“I’ve heard you play several times before. Maybe there was a wrong note, but it was wonderfully soulful.” He laughed. “I am convinced that when I hear you play, I can hear your heart.”

There was silence in the room, except for the distant sounds of the concert still going on. He ducked his head. “I’m sorry. I’m usually not that poetic. Um. This is embarrassing.”

“Actually, I think it’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me about my playing,” you said. He looked relieved.

“I… am not that good at playing,” he said. “And I certainly can’t write anything.”

“Coming from you, that’s quite a compliment.” He smiled, looking quite pleased. There was a glimmer of something in his eyes, but it was gone when his lids flickered closed for a moment.

“If you aren’t aiming to be a musician, then what does interest you?” you asked.

“I want to work with animals,” he said. “They’re not affected, you see. I have to work to earn their favor.” He smiled. “It took me three months to earn Baphomet’s affection. Oh, that’s my cat. Grouchy old thing.”

“You have a cat?” you said. “Don’t you live in the dorms?”

There was a moment of shame, the a spark of mischief entered his eyes. He lifted a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell. Please?”

“I promise I won’t,” you said, “as long as you promise to let me see him.”

His brows rose. “Are you trying to get me to take you back to my room?”

It was your turn to dissolve into stammering. He waved his hand to dismiss your worries. “I’m teasing. I’m sure Baphomet would be pleased to meet you. After a fashion, anyway.” He looked at you a moment, seemed to be gathering his courage for something. “Would you mind- and you certainly don’t have to if you don’t want to- but I was wondering…”

His courage failed. His tail flicked rapidly and he seemed to be struggling to speak. “I can’t answer until you’ve actually asked something,” you reminded him. That got a tight smile and he tried to speak again.

“Your music. I was wondering if I could hear some more of it?” He worried his lip and you wondered how his sharp teeth didn’t break the skin. “I know it might be personal, but I… It was beautiful and I’d like to hear it again.”

“I think I can arrange that,” you said. “But not all my pieces are as polished as those, so you might not be as pleased by them.”

“I’m sure I’ll be pleased with whatever you want to play,” he said. He shifted his legs, tail stilling with obvious effort. “And would you be willing to help me learn how to play better?”

“There are better people to teach you,” you said. He sighed and gave you a look under his lashes.

“Maybe I would prefer to spend time with you,” he said. You opened your mouth.

“Are you-” The words were stuttering. “You’re asking me out?”

“I’m trying to,” he said. “I haven’t been clear enough, have I? I’m not used to being the one doing the asking, I’m afraid. It’s a bit of a novelty, actually.” He gave a sort of half-shrug. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’ve had an attraction for a while now, actually. From, uh. The first time I heard you play, actually.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “But I’m usually very cautious about asking people out. I know that some people thing incubi just use people for sex. And others… aren’t shy about doing it the other way around. So, I was waiting to make sure that you liked me back. For me, not for anything else. But you corrected me earlier. And you haven’t fallen over yourself with me either. So.” He coughed. “All this is a very long way of saying that I would like to go out with you. And I’m hoping you feel the same?”

He was just as handsome as before. But the only part of him you really noticed were his unnatural eyes. They were bright with affection.

#exophilia #incubus #incubus boyfriend #incubus lover #monster lover #monster romance

180 notes · View notes

just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi · 4 years

Text

Mark Davies: BBU Popstar

CW: exercise whump, BBU so the general for those (pet whumpee, collar mention, human trafficking, dehumanization) implied past noncon, vomiting/emeto, electrocution

Brief/vague disordered eating, (Just general bad attitude about the relationship between exercise and food, not by choice)

“You guys have been a great audience! Goodnight everyone!” Mark pumped his arms up, saying goodbye to the screaming crowd one last time before he jogged offstage. The wings were filled with movement as the crew rushed around him. One tech was waiting for him, well, waiting for the mic pack. Mark unclipped it from his back and handed it over.

“Great job, dude,” the tech ventured as he took the mic. Mark smiled at him. It was a blinding white smile that filled his whole face, even his eyes.

The cameras could always tell if the smile didn’t reach your eyes.

“Thanks, what’s your name?” The tech faltered, a little starstruck, but trying his best to hide it.

“Jimmy.” Mark nodded and grabbed his water. Stage lights were hot, and he was sweating hard.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” he corrected himself automatically. Manners and personal touches were the best way to keep up his reputation. People paid attention to the tabloids, but people also paid attention to the twitters of the stage crew. “Tech was perfect tonight. Please tell the rest of the crew ‘thanks’ from me if I don’t get the chance.” Jimmy nodded, looking like there was something else he wanted to ask.

“Hey man, I’m sure you’re sick of this, but my niece would kill me if I met you and didn’t at least get a selfie.” Mark smiled again and put out his hand.

“Sure. What’s your niece’s name?” Jimmy handed his phone over, and Mark slid over the camera quickly.

“Uh, Megan.” Mark nodded, grabbed Jimmy around the shoulder and held the camera up and out for a good angle.

“Hey Megan! I’m just here hanging with your Uncle Jimmy. Next time I come to town, tag along backstage. I’d love to see you in person! Stay positive! Bye Megan!” He added a wink and ended the short video. Videos were easy; say the name, say the connection, hint at meeting in the future, give a positive affirmation, say the name again in closing. Jimmy smiled wide and took the phone back reverently.

“Oh, she’s gonna flip when she sees this. Thanks! I know I already said it, but tonight really was a great show, man.”

Mark smiled again, reaching his eyes a little less. It hadn’t been a good show.

He missed a cue.

Mark gave a lazy salute and started to walk back to his trailer. The trailer he really didn’t want to go back to. He ducked through the crew and arena staff running around, weaving through them until he was at the backdoor. He pushed through and felt the cool air on his flushed skin.

He walked much slower outside. The back lot was empty, save his trailer, so he didn’t need to worry about people for right now. He didn’t have to worry about cameras, or press, or fans, or staff, or his Manager, or his image. For just a moment, he could stop and look up at the sky.

He knew there were stars there, but he couldn’t see them. There was too much light in the city, too many thin, grey clouds in the sky. Even without the stars, the cool breeze was heavenly, even if it would only last a few moments.

If he was any other artist, finishing a show would be exciting, a time to celebrate. A time to sit with his friends or family and decompress after the adrenalin of the lights and the screaming fans. If he was any other artist, his trailer would be a comfortable space for him. A space where he could relax and rest.

If he was any other artist, he could pause under the moon just to look at it.

But he wasn’t any other artist; he was Mark Davies, and he was too well trained to disobey.

The trailer door opened with a squeak and the floor dipped every so slightly as he stepped in. His eyes scanned the room and hallway quickly, letting out a shaky breath. He was alone. Maybe his Manager was busy somewhere else. Maybe he didn’t even catch the show. Maybe he was just feeling generous.

Mark rubbed the back of his neck. He was glad Sir wasn’t here, but also a little sad. Sir would always take his collar off before a show, and put it back on after. It had been kind of hard at first, but it was better now.

Collar off, he was Mark Davies; platinum artist and performer. He knew how to charm people, to entertain, to perform, and how to keep everything marketable and acceptable to the widest general audience. He knew how to smile and laugh and wink his way through anything. Which ways to angle himself to the paparazzi, which times to pause for a longer fan interaction, which interviewers he could distract with a bite of his lip and the tilt of his head.

Collar on, he was just another pet. Waiting silently by his Sir’s side, following his orders when he gave them. Behaving. Going to the people Sir told him to go to. He knew how to keep close and not get in the way, how to keep his eyes down and keep quiet. He knew how to be a good pet, and he liked it.

He liked the kind words and soft pats of his head. He liked it when Sir wrapped his arm around his shoulder, pulling him close to show him off to his friends. He liked it when they were home and he could just sit by his Sir’s chair and watch tv. He liked being a pet, it was calm and simple.

Being Mark Davies was exhausting, and he was ready to go to sleep. He wanted his collar and to curl up with his Sir. Sir didn’t want him like he was trained, but it was enough to just be close to him. He could only really sleep with another body in the bed, and he really wanted to sleep tonight.

The trailer dipped slightly again, and Mark turned around. His Manager was alone, so he let the smile fade from his face, eyes drifting down submissively.

“You missed a cue.”

Mark swallowed, but he didn’t look up. He had tried, he really had, but it was his third month on the road. The tour was exhausting; eyes on him all the time. It was hours and hours everyday without his collar, and it was starting to get to him. His head hurt almost all the time, and it felt like the skin on his neck crawled. He had asked if he could wear a choker, just to feel a little better, but Sir had shot it down. Said it didn’t fit with the image the stylist created.

Said it was too reminiscent of pets.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

Douglass Archer huffed. “Yeah, you should be. Should be sorry, especially with the combination of that and your little fiasco with the interview yesterday. Keep making stupid mistakes like that and people are going to start digging deeper into your past. Do you want them to come and take you away from me?”

Mark’s heart beat faster, heat rushing to his cheeks. He had said he was sorry for forgetting the lines Sir gave him. The interviewer had this symbol on his necklace, it made Mark’s head hurt to look at, and he felt like he had recognized it. He had lost his train of thought and gotten the dates of his next release wrong. He had tried to fix it, and the interviewer didn’t even seem to notice. But Sir had.

“No, Sir.” He didn’t want to be taken away. He really didn’t. Sir wasn’t mean to him, and he let him sing and perform. Sir didn’t want him like he was trained, but that was okay. He was for Sir, not for his training. He was fine. Besides, Sir gave him to other people sometimes. And sometimes it wasn’t so bad.

“Well then, you need to stop making these stupid mistakes. Shirt off and change out of those jeans,” Douglass ordered, locking the trailer door.

“Yes, Sir.” Mark turned to the side of the trailer and pulled a pair of navy running shorts from the luggage. He slipped off the jeans his stylist had set out for the show and put the shorts on. He pulled off the leather jacket and white t-shirt, hanging the jacket up and putting the sweat-soaked shirt in the laundry. When he came back to his Manager, Douglass was standing next to the treadmill with a thin black belt with little boxes hanging off it in his hand.

“Position 15.”

It felt like Mark’s body was moving automatically, feet planting in the laminate floor, arms raising above his head. Douglass secured the belt with the heartrate monitor around his chest, the prongs of the shock box digging into the skin on his back.

Tears were welling in Mark’s eyes. He was so tired, he just wanted to sleep tonight. He was tired, he wouldn’t be able to run and then it would hurt. He didn’t want to hurt, he wanted to sleep. His Sir tightened the band and pushed him up on the treadmill. He whimpered softly as he shifted on the rubber track.

“Oh hush. You’ll be fine. Besides, summer is coming up and we’ve got a couple brands that want to do some photoshoots. Two birds, one stone.” He started it at the third level, but Mark knew he would raise it later. He let Mark run for a few moments before he set the base heartrate with a small remote. Any heartrate lower than that would activate the shock box.

For the first few minutes, it was fine. Sir had set up a fitness plan for Mark, including a personal trainer when they were home, so he was fine to run for a few minutes. Or he would have been, if he hadn’t been touring for three months and just gave a two-hour concert.

A minute passed and Sir reached over and ticked the speed up.

Mark changed his pace, determined. However, his determination had already been undermined by his worn-out body. Too soon, his legs began to ache, and his heart was raging in his throat. Soon, every movement made his stomach roll. He popped his feet up to the plastic sides of the treadmill, trying to catch his breath. His head was down, watching the rubber belt fly underneath him at a concerning rate.

“If you throw up, you won’t get anything else tonight.” Douglass was barely paying attention, scrolling through his phone on the couch across the small room.

“Yes… Sir…” Mark panted. He knew that. He knew, but it was impossible. Sir always made him run so hard that he threw up every time.

He only stops when you vomit. He wants you to.

Mark pushed the thoughts out of his head and pressed his sweaty hair out of his face. No, no that wasn’t right. He hated throwing up because Sir was so thoughtful to keep him on a strict meal plan. He was so thoughtful to keep him healthy and in shape. He was thoughtful and Mark was grateful. He had to be grateful.

He had to start running again. If he let his heartrate get too low, it would hurt. It would hurt, and he would hurt, and Sir would just make him get back on. Maybe if he just pushed through Sir would let him stop, just tonight. Maybe. Mark took a last breath and started again.

It was even shorter this time, stopping about a minute after he started. Sweat was dripping off his brow, itching on his nose and lips. His legs burned and his chest felt tight. His stomach - no he couldn’t think about that. Not now. He closed his eyes and held onto the bar as he felt his balance wane.

Closing his eyes was a bad idea. Just the thought of sleep clung onto him strongly, too strongly. He focused on his breathing, on calming the fire raging in his chest, trying to make the room stop swaying. Finally, he got a proper breath, letting it out slowly.

Then his back lit up. Electricity stabbed through his muscles, convulsing and locking them tight. He let out a cry as his legs gave out from under him. His shoulder hit the belt of the treadmill hard, but he was only there for a moment before it flung him into the cabinet behind him.

He hit it with his back and his head. His vision blurred and the room tilted even farther. Mark’s neck went weak, and his temple dropped to the ground. There was a sharp pain in his side, and vaguely he guessed he must have hit one of the cabinet’s handles. His back was already starting to feel sore from the shock, muscles screaming at him in despair. His chest heaved, trying desperately to make up for pain of the shock and the exercise.

Douglass grabbed his shoulder roughly, turning him on his stomach. Mark groaned at the movement but went pliant.

“Idiot. That’s gonna bruise. Thankfully it’s just on your back.” He pressed down on the red mark, a perfect imprint of the handle, and Mark cried out.

“S-sor-rry, Sir-r” he mumbled, fighting his own mouth to make the sounds.

“Sorry isn’t good enough kid. What even was that? I spend all this money on a personal trainer, and you can’t go ten minutes?” He crouched down next to Mark’s head before he hit the button on the remote. Pain shot through his back again, stabbing under his sin. Mark cried out, back arching. He kept crying even when jolt stopped. He curled in on himself, arms tucked into his chest.

“I-I’m-m-m so-r-rry, Sir. P-l-lease, I’ll, I’ll do be-e-etter,” he stuttered. His breath came in short gasps, never enough oxygen to stop his fully body shakes.

“Yeah, you will. Get up.” Mark wanted to, he really did, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t move. All he could do was curl tighter and cry. Douglass rolled his eyes and grabbed Mark’s forearm, hauling him up and back to the treadmill. It was still running at the same speed, so he turned if off and pulled Mark onto it.

Mark kept his arms tucked into his chest, tears streaming down his face, not daring to look any higher than Sir’s belt.

“Do I have to tie you to the bar? Hmm?”

Mark shook his head desperately. He didn’t want to be dragged against the belt as it moved under him. Sir wouldn’t like the marks it left either, and he just wanted his Sir to be happy. He tried to make him happy, every day, but he could never do enough. He had to be perfect, he knew that Sir had paid a lot of money for him to be perfect, but he couldn’t do it. Not all the time, every day.

“Good. Go.” Douglass turned the machine on again, and Mark let it move him for a moment before he started walking. Sir was being kind, he put it on a lower setting this time around. Even after Mark had messed up and damaged himself, Sir was still being kind. Mark wanted to do better, to make Sir happy, to be good, but he couldn’t. But he had to try.

Douglass turned the speed up again until Mark was running and stood back. Less than a minute later, Mark nearly dove off the side, making it to the small trash time in time before he threw up. Internally, Douglass was impressed. He had made if farther than he though he would, especially tonight. Still not far enough, but the progress was clear. He would let his trainer know.

Mark lifted his head from the trashcan and rolled over onto his back, ignoring the pressure it put one the box and how it dug into this ribs. He had tried, and he had failed. Again. Like he always did. His mouth felt acidic and bitter, nose stuffy, tears running down his temples. His chest heaved and he closed his eyes. Whether Sir liked it or not, Mark was going to pass out any minute.

Douglass crouched next to him and loosened the band around his chest. He took it in one hand and grabbed a blanket. He balled it up and threw it at Mark where he lay on the ground, landing on and around his face.

“If you can get up, clean yourself up before you go to sleep. We’re rolling out at 6:00 am tomorrow morning, and I expect you to be ready.” He turned off the lamp in the hallway and left, locking the door behind him.

Mark wanted to sob, to curl up in a ball and never come out, but he was too tired, too sore, too miserable to even move. He reached up slowly and pulled the fabric off his face. His fingers curled around the blanket, but that was as far as he got. He was too hot and sweaty to put it over himself, but he would still grab onto it. It was all the comfort he was going to get tonight.

No collar, no body to lay with, no bed. Just the cold floor and his overwhelming sense of failure. Even then, he was asleep in minutes.

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psycho-slytherin · 5 years

Text

Sinner

In which Romeo hates Juliet, but not as much as Juliet hates Romeo.

Pairing: Actor!Jimin x Reader

Genre: fluff; drama; enemies to idiots to lovers

Warnings: Swearing, Old English

WC: this was gonna be a drabble 5k

A/N: A happy, happy, happy birthday to my most beautifullest darlingest @chimchimsauce. Congrats! I hope you have a fantastic day and ily!!! <3

|mlist|

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief. See how she leans her cheek upon her hand– Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!”

You look out into the darkness, sighing. “Ay, me.”’

“She speaks. Oh, speak again, bright angel!”

“Romeo, Romeo…” you wring your hands. “Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father, and refuse thy name. Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love–” your voice catches. “And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.”

~~~

“Some shall be pardoned, and some shall be punished. For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.”

You hold your breath, waiting in the wings. There’s a pause, silence, before…

Thunderous applause rings through the theater. You peek around the curtain and see some audience members already on their feet. Yes! The applause rises in volume by the end of curtain call, when you and your Romeo step back onstage to bow once, twice, give credit to the orchestra, bow again, and done.

“Did you see that?” Hoseok, who plays Mercutio, whoops before chugging the rest of his beer. “Standing ovation, bitches, for a touring production! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

You smile from the corner of the green room. You’re happy onstage, but you can’t help but let your natural shyness come into play when you’re back to playing… well, yourself.

“Let’s hear it for the stars of our show– Juliet and Romeo!” Momo, the costume designer and your best friend on tour, nudges you forward. Across the room, Hoseok is doing the same to your Romeo. Oy vey.

You press your lips together. “Hello, Jimin.”

“Y/n.”

“Damn, not even a greeting?”

“I’d rather save my breath for the stage.”

You feel the deep, familiar coil of rage in your stomach begin to tighten. This guy… “I’m sure pretending you have a heart saps most of of your strength.”

“At least I can pretend decently, since it’s my job. What’s yours?”

“Hey, hey, let’s keep it civil.” Hoseok moves in between you two. “Alike in dignity, right? It’s Friday night, there’s no matinee tomorrow… let’s party like it’s 1391!”

The cast and crew cheer as they load into multiple SUVs, surely headed for the nearest bar.

“You sure you don’t want to go?” Momo asks, poking your arm as the cars leave.

“And spend more time than I have to with a certain coworker?” You wrinkle your nose, grabbing your things from your locker. You’ve already changed back into your civilian outfit, a longsleeved shirt tucked into loose pants. “I’ll pass.”

“Don’t let him ruin your night, y/n. He’s the devil, and he’s got an ego as big as his dick is small.”

You snort. “Classy.”

“Like, okay, let’s be honest, he is hot.”

That, you can’t deny. “But he knows it, which makes him more of an annoyance. Ever since I landed this role he’s been so rude and entitled!”

“It’s ‘cause he thinks he’s such a panty-dropper, and how dare you not sleep with him.” Momo giggles. “I’ll bet you money that he doesn’t spend tonight alone.”

You feel a pang in your chest at the idea of Jimin spending the night with some faceless beauty. God, you hate him. “How come Casanova Montague is getting more action than me?”

“I’ll tell you how– he’s at the bar right now, meeting and seducing people. He’s playing Romeo, the flirt that makes the first move. Now stop being shy little Juliet, go out, and get some!” Momo strides to the costume closet and pulls out a leather… thing.

“What’s that?”

Your friend huffs. “It’s a dress. And it’s your ticket to showing up Park Jimin tonight.”

You laugh, examining the outfit. “Not only did I say I wasn’t going out, this probably doesn’t fit me, and who says I care about showing up Jimin?”

“Not only are you friends with the resident fashion guru, but you also deserve a fun night out! All you’ve done this tour is get through the show and head to the hotel. Which means the only guy you’ve kissed for two months is a prettyboi with his head so far up his ass that his headvoice is his belt.” Momo thrusts the leather number at you. “Now go change. I don’t care what demons I have to summon to have this dress fit you, we’ll make it happen.”

~~~

“Why did I agree to this?” You say through a forced smile, your back to the wall. You tug at the hem of the dress, attempting to cover more of your thighs. You’ve worn revealing costumes onstage before, sure, but that’s not you.

“You never really agreed, actually, you’re just too weak to fight me.”

“You said a bar, Momo, this is a club. People are dancing! I can’t dance!”

“I can’t believe I need to tell a professional actress to let loose and have fun. I hear wild stories about your cast parties all the time!” Momo looks effortlessly flawless in a loose red top and shorts, and she actually seems comfortable in the loud, warm, energetic setting.

“Y/n’s never been to our troupe’s cast parties,” Yoongi, the cast’s Benvolio, approaches and slings an arm around you. You and Yoongi have always had good banter, and at first you mistook his wisecracking for flirting. Now you know better.

“Because I want to be able to walk the next day, maybe?” You laugh, stealing his beanie. Or because Jimin is there.

“It’s an important bonding ritual!”

“Getting drunk and high with Park Jimin is the last thing I’d ever want to do,” you announce dryly.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine.” Even with the blaring music, you hear his voice clearly. “It’s not on my list of priorities either.”

You jump, seeing your costar approach. “Jimin!”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “No, please, go back to talking about me. I was so invested.”

You clench your jaw in frustration and Yoongi chuckles nervously. “That’s my cue, ladies and gents. Momo, care to get a drink?”

Momo looks from you to Jimin with worried eyes and you nod at her– you’ve never needed help dealing with Park Jimin.

The two leave and, despite the crowded club, it feels as though you and Jimin are alone. You hate to admit it, but in his civilian clothes he looks really, really hot.

“Complaining about me behind my back? That’s really mature, y/n.” Jimin runs his hands through shiny black hair, his tight shirt straining to accommodate muscles that you’ve never noticed through the Romeo costume.

“Would you rather I complain to your face? Because that I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’d rather you keep your pretty mouth shut offstage– maybe onstage too, so I don’t have to spend half my performance making up for yours.”

The familiar fury that Jimin always manages to trigger tinges your vision red. You stomp closer to him, your heeled boots bringing you to eye level with Jimin, your blood boiling beneath your skin. “Why do you hate me so much? I earned this role. I do the work. I get results. You don’t do anything besides stand there and look good. You barely deserve to be an understudy!”

Jimin mirrors your movement, drawing closer to you before smirking. You’re almost nose to nose, so close you can feel his breath on your lips, and you almost shiver when he speaks. “You think I look good?”

“You– ugh!” You’re so tempted to wind up and punch the guy but you can’t afford to get in trouble. “The only one who thinks you’re good-looking is you, Jimin, and given that your personality archetype is ‘Entitled Swine’ you’re goddamn lucky you’ve got that going for you.”

“Ooh, perfect Juliet can swear.”

“Dumbass Romeo can leave.”

“At least this dumbass can dance.” With that, Jimin turns on his heel and makes his way to the crowded dance floor before stopping and looking back at you over his shoulder. “Admiring the view? Or you just hate to admit that you can’t dance?”

A very small voice in your psyche pipes up: Is he trying to reverse-psychology me into dancing in order to make fun of me?

Nah, he wouldn’t be that conniving or immature. You’re sure Jimin is happy just rubbing your nose in your skills… or lack thereof.

Hey, just because you said you can’t dance doesn’t give him the right to make fun of you. You’re half tempted to follow him onto the dance floor, join the mass of sweaty, tipsy, hormonal bodies… and just act like you belong.

But that’s not you. You glare at Jimin before moving to find Momo. You encounter her at the bar, along with Yoongi and Hoseok. Namjoon, who plays Lord Capulet, is there as well, and his eyes light up when he sees you. “Hey, our star decided to join us for once!”

“Y’all are making me feel like I live under a rock,” you complain. “I just like sleep.” Or, you’re just trying to avoid Jimin as much as possible.

“Then girl, you picked the wrong career. Why do you even do stage plays if you’re so uptight?” Hoseok is clearly well on his way to drunk, not that he needs alcohol to speak his mind.

“I-I-” You look down, embarrassed. “It’s different when I’m acting. I’m not uptight on stage. I just get nervous when I’m being myself, I guess.”

Momo slams back a shot. “That’s it!” she gasps, her face contorting as the liquor sears her throat. “That’s how you can loosen up tonight. Act!”

You look down at the foreign leather dress. It does feel like you’re already wearing a costume.

“Hey, I can get behind that! Y/n, be someone else for the night!” Yoongi winks. “Someone confident!”

“Someone exciting!” Namjoon chimes in.

Momo grins. “I’d say someone sexy, but you’ve got that down. Go, channel Romeo for a bit.”

“But, uh… how do I start?”

Yoongi gets a mischievous gleam in his eye. “By dancing.”

You look over. The dance floor is dimly lit, save for a multicolored pulsing light show. Jimin is somewhere on that floor, probably looking as comfortable as he does onstage.

“Momo, come with me?” You ask desperately. You’ll do this, but you don’t want to be without backup.

“Of course! But first, a round of shots. And two for my girl here! A toast to y/n, and whoever she’ll become!”

“Oh, I don’t like drinking,” you say.

“Yeah, but your new persona does!” Momo replies, and you laugh. Surrounded by your coworkers, your friends, you feel more comfortable than before. As you relent, downing shots in quick succession, you feel… different. Confident. The alcohol wouldn’t affect you so quickly, right? When you rise, you stand straighter, at last at home in the tight leather. Whoever you are now, she likes feeling sexy. She doesn’t mind attention. And she doesn’t care if Park Jimin says she can’t dance.

“Let’s go, Momo.”

Your friend whoops. “Bye, boys! We’re gonna have ourselves some fun!”

Together, you join the crowd on the dance floor. The DJ is playing some electronic music you don’t recognize– but it’s got a strong beat, and that’s all you need. Momo is a fantastic dancer and you follow her lead: you jump, shimmy, and spin. The real you would feel awkward as hell, your body would seem clunky and unfamiliar. But now, with the lights down low and the music blaring, all you feel is adrenaline.

“That guy is making eyes at you!” You shout in Momo’s ear to be heard over the music. She turns and checks out the man who’s been looking her way the past two songs. “Ooh, he’s cute. But I’m here with you, y/n!”

You flash her a smile. “Who’s y/n? I can handle myself fine, darling. Talk to him if you want!”

“You sure you won’t mind?”

What are you doing? This isn’t you. It’s not even drunk you. It’s different. You wouldn’t want to be this girl every day, but for right now… you’re relishing in the feeling. You love it. This is acting.

“I’m sure.” You wink. “And have fun!”

Momo dances her way over to the guy, who breaks into a grin when he sees her headed towards him. You turn your attention back to the music, the melodies you don’t recognize, the beat you feel in your bones. You’re not y/n, you’re just one messy soul among dozens swaying to the same song.

The spell is broken when you feel a hand on your ass.

“Hey beautiful…” a husky voice growls in your ear, his chest pressing into your back. You want to yell, hit him, anything, but terror floods you and you feel frozen to the spot. “That dress looks great on you. It’d look better on my bedroom fl– oof!”

You turn just in time to see the man double over, and standing above him is Jimin, looking angrier than you’ve ever seen him.

“You don’t get to touch her,” he growls, “ever.”

“J-Jimin?”

He glances at you, eyes softening. “Are you okay?”

“I- yeah.” You feel nervous again, your new persona having slipped for a second.

“I’m gonna get security to throw this scumbag out. I’ll see you later, y/n, okay?” He nods at you and melts into the crowd, dragging the creep with him.

“Y/n? Oh my god, what happened?” Momo asks, appearing beside you.

You stare after Jimin. “I don’t know.”

~~~

You silently pretend to have a conversation, yet you feel his eyes burning into you.

“Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.”

You’re oblivious, you can’t hear him, you’re super engaged in this fake conversation.

As Lord Capulet argues with Tybalt, played by your friend Taehyung, you allow yourself to sneak a glance at Jimin. It’s your first performance together since Friday night at the club– your understudy took on Saturday’s show, and Jimin’s played on Sunday. The whole weekend has passed and even now, Monday, you can’t stop thinking about that night. Why should Jimin care if you were getting harassed? Sure, it was probably him feeling protective of a fellow cast member, or just being a decent human being for once. Still, that raw fury in his voice... before you know it, it’s time for your first scene with your Romeo.

Jimin takes your hand. He really is handsome with stage makeup on, not that you notice or care. Though his body is angled towards the audience, his eyes bore into yours. “If I profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

And, still staring at you, he presses his lips to your hand. His gaze is so intense that if you didn’t utterly despise him, you might have felt flustered.

The scene continues, and before you know it…

“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake,” you say your line teasingly. Your characters are young, and flirting. Despite your and Jimin’s true feelings for each other, you both agreed to leave your rivalry in the dressing room.

“Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.” Jimin draws you in, like he’s done a hundred times in a dozen cities, and lightly touches his lips to yours. “Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.”

“Then have my lips the sin that they have took,” you manage, breathless. You turn away, hiding your face, before Jimin takes your hand and whirls you around. You end up pressed against him, much closer than the blocking you had rehearsed, but it does make the scene more intimate.

“Sin from thy lips?” Jimin cups your cheek– his hand seems extra soft today– and tilts your chin up. “Oh, trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.” And this kiss is nothing like the first, no, it’s desperate, messy, hormonal, secret, his plush lips move against yours hungrily and his tongue–

Eventually you pull away, almost lightheaded. You hate him, and you hate to admit it, but… “You kiss by the book.” Especially tonight.

After curtain call, you’re changing in the dressing room when Momo pokes her head in. “Yoo-hoo! How’s my favorite Juliet?”

“Hey!” Hyuna, your understudy, complains good-naturedly.

“I heard the kiss scene today was intense,” Momo continues, helping you out of your costume. “Do I sense underlying sexual tension?”

You roll your eyes, swatting your friend. “As if, darling. My standards have yet to fall low enough for Park Jimin.”

A knock at the door startles you. “Who is it?”

The voice makes your heart drop into your stomach. “The walls aren’t soundproof, darling, and you’re right next to the men’s dressing room,” says… shit. Jimin.

“Oh damn, he heard that?”

Momo flaps her hand dismissively. “Since when have you cared about speaking your mind around Jimin?”

“I…” You shake your head. “You’re right, I don’t.” Right?

Once you’ve changed, you shoulder your bag and head down the hall. You’re almost to the door when Jimin steps out of the green room. “Well, if it isn’t Miss High Standards.”

You sigh inwardly. You haven’t spoken face to face with him since Friday, and you’re too tired to fight Jimin right now. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“Wow, y/n apologizing? Let me mark the date on my calendar, we’ll call it a holiday.”

“Whatever, Jimin.” You’re so tired of arguing with him every single day.

“No comeback? What’s gotten into you?” Underneath the snark in his tone, he almost sounds concerned… or so you’d think, if you didn’t know him better.

“Y/n, a bunch of us are going out tonight, want to come?” Taehyung calls behind Jimin.

You nearly laugh. Given how Friday went? “No thanks, I’m just gonna go back to the hotel.” With a curt nod to Jimin, you continue to the back door.

“Alright, good performance tonight,” Tae replies.

“You too.” You call a taxi and head to the hotel. You’re rooming with Hyuna, but if you know her at all you know she won’t be sleeping in her own bed tonight.

After brushing your teeth and hair, you take a breath and finally relax. Even when you’re offstage, at work it feels as though you have to be ‘on’ all the time. And with Park Jimin around, you can never let your guard down. It’s nice to have this time alone and finally wind down. You pull your sudoku book from your purse and curl up in bed to work on the puzzles. You like reading, but ever since high school you felt most at peace when you were able to channel your focus into problem-solving. Back home, that meant doing puzzles. On tour, your sudoku book is much more portable. It’s nearing midnight when you hear a knock on your door.

That’s weird. “Hyuna?” You call, padding to the door and pulling it open. “Did you lose your key ag-”

“Hi,” Jimin says.

What.

Your mind goes through about nine stages of panic, and for lack of a better plan you swing the door closed, with Jimin still on the other side.

“Uh… y/n?”

Your mind a whirling dervish, you can do nothing more than stare at the door. What is he doing here? Why is Jimin, of all people, outside your door? Sure, the whole cast is rooming on the same floor, but that doesn’t explain why he’s here. Is he hooking up with Hyuna? Does he need to borrow some toothpaste? Did he lose the revised blocking script?

Does he… want to talk to you? A rush of guilt nearly topples you. Did you really just close the door on him?

Wait, it’s Park Jimin. You hate Park Jimin. You should slam a door in his face, as regularly as possible.

“W-what do you want?” you squeak, inwardly cursing. Get a hold of yourself. You’ve dealt with Jimin ever since the first table read, so why are you nervous now?

Jimin’s reply, though muffled through the door, sounds almost...sheepish. “I just want to talk.”

“Since when do you ‘just want to talk’ to me?”

“Can you just open the door, y/n? My ego is hurting enough as it is.”

What does he mean by that? Your curiosity alone is enough to make you open the door. Jimin is standing there, his cheeks tinged red, holding out a bottle.

“What’s this?” You take the bottle from his outstretched hand. It’s cold.

“Call it… a peace offering.”

“Champagne?”

“Sparkling apple cider. I noticed you don’t like to drink.”

“Oh.” You can think of nothing else to say– what is going on? “Uh, thanks. Do you want to come in, or…?”

“Actually…” Jimin shifts from side to side. “Do you want to go for a walk? The walls in the rooms are pretty thin.”

Befuddled, you follow him into the elevator, watching as he presses the R button.

“Roof, huh?” You finally have your voice back. “Is this it? Are you at last gonna murder me?”

“Yep, that’s definitely what’s going on here,” Jimin replies sarcastically, taking the bottle from your hand. “And apple cider is my weapon of choice.”

“Seriously, Jimin, what’s this about?” you ask as the elevator stops and you step out. “I mean, it’s not like you to– woah.”

Stars. Hundreds, thousands of stars blanketing the night sky, more than you’ve ever seen in your two months on tour. Spending all your time in big cities meant light pollution got in the way of stargazing but here, above the busy city streets…

“So pretty,” you whisper. “And the moon is so bright!” So much for being a snarky force of nature– you really, really missed the stars.

“Stars, in your multitudes…” you sing under your breath, forgetting who you’re with, where you are.

“Scarce to be counted, filling the darkness with order and light.” Jimin’s rich tenor voice chimes in behind you. “Always a sucker for Les Miz. Apple cider?”

“There aren’t any cups.”

Jimin pries off the bottlecap and takes a swig directly from the bottle. “Who needs ‘em?”

“Really, Jimin, where’s all this coming from? Why are you being… well, nice?”

“Who says I’m being nice?”

You stare at him, unamused, although it’s too dark to tell if he’s noticed.

“Alright, alright. Look, I just…” Jimin’s words turn soft, and he sits down. You settle next to him. “I wanted to apologize for how I’ve behaved lately. You’re right, I’ve been an utter cock. My behavior, the shit I’ve said to you… it’s probably unforgivable. I wouldn’t blame you for getting up and leaving. I acted completely unprofessional, and created a bad working and social environment for you. I’m–” he pauses, takes a breath. “Y/n, I’m really, truly sorry.”

Well. He sounds genuine. But how can you trust Park Jimin? “Why were you always so hard on me?”

Jimin sighs. “I’m not going to try to justify my behavior. I’m not always the friendliest guy at work, but, uh…” he takes another swig of the cider. “Damn, now I wish this was alcoholic.”

You steal the bottle and take a drink yourself. “You were saying?”

“This sounds childish, god. The last troupe I was in, before I joined this production… my girlfr- ex-girlfriend at the time was an actress too. She wanted to do screen work but she wasn’t finding opportunities, and I introduced her to our director. She made a good impression and joined the troupe– we toured with In The Heights, I was Usnavi and she got Vanessa.”

“So you played love interests onstage? Neat.”

“It was, yeah… until we broke up. She’d been sleeping with the director, of all people.” The hurt and betrayal in Jimin’s voice is so potent you feel an urge to comfort him. But it’s Park Jimin, how do you know he’s telling the truth?

“There were still two months left in the tour– so even after we broke up, even after she cheated on me, I still had to kiss her and act like I was in love.”

“Jimin, I’m sorry…” you murmur. You want to reach out and touch his shoulder, but would that be inappropriate?

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be dumping this on you. The truth is, when I first saw you, and saw you were cast as Juliet, I got nervous. You’re smart, funny, talented, beautiful…”

“I’m sorry, did you just compliment me?”

“And I was honestly scared of falling for you. I didn’t want to go through that again. But how I acted was awful– Momo told me Friday that the reason you didn’t join our cast parties or nights out was because you wanted to avoid me. I didn’t realize what a toxic environment I was making it for you.”

“Oh, I mean…” dammit, Momo.

“When I first met you, I figured you’d be meek, a pushover. You were so nervous! I didn’t expect you to bite back,” Jimin laughs. “I never should have messed with you. You can fend for yourself better than anyone.”

“I guess you weren’t alone in escalating things,” you admit. “It’s not like I was nice to you either. I’m sorry for talking behind your back– and to your face.”

There’s a moment of thoughtful silence. You feel more relaxed than before, which is nice.

“Did you listen to the new Mean Girls musical?” Jimin asks suddenly.

“A few times, yeah. Why?”

Jimin lays back and points at the sky. “I see stars, so many stars tonight, you could make diamonds dull, you are so beautiful~”

You suddenly regret that your troupe is performing Shakespeare and not a musical. How you’d love to hear that clear, emotional tone every night. “You sound great.”

“Oh, ah…” Jimin’s voice rises in pitch. “Thanks.”

“Y’know, I never thanked you for helping me out on Friday with that dude.”

“Anyone would do the same.”

“But you’re the only one that did. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. That guy is part of the reason I came here tonight, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Obviously you’re a human being and also a troupe member, so those are two good reasons I didn’t want him to harass you. Later, though… jeez, this makes me sound like such a yandere… I dunno. I got so mad at that asshole, and I realized it’s because I care about you as more than just a troupe member.”

“What? J-Jimin?”

“And the show today. I feel like such an idiot, but I have to know: did the kiss scene today… did it feel different to you?”

Is that a tremor you hear in his voice? Is Park Jimin, with his endless confidence, nervous? Because of you?

“It… yeah, it did. I thought you changed the blocking.”

“I thought you did.”

You laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. “What is going on?”

Your costar joins in, chuckling mirthfully. “I have no clue. But I like it.”

What’s it? Does it mean you? This? The two of you together? Because if so, you’re starting to like it too.

“I’m supposed to hate your guts, man. You can’t come here, acting all adorable, bringing me apple cider, and still expect me to hate you.”

“So you think I’m adorable?”

“That is not what I said. The only person who thinks you’re adorable is you.”

“How narcissistic do you think I am?”

“I never realized you had enough room in your heart for more than you, to be honest.”

“There’s enough room for you too,” Jimin whispers, contrasting with his fast-paced quips.

What does he mean by that?

You sit back up, and Jimin joins you. You stare at the night sky shoulder to shoulder for a moment before you speak.

“Y’know, Momo always said you were the devil,” you say, keeping your voice light. “But I thought the devil was too high-class. There’s only one Satan, you know. You’re just a regular sinner.”

“Oh, so I’m a sinner? Then give me my sin again.” And Jimin is right there, leaning forward, a thousand questions in his eyes and you answer every one by pressing your lips to his.

Suddenly you’re kissing Park Jimin, which you’ve done a thousand times, but this time it’s different. Jimin makes a happy little “mmph!” noise when you kiss him before snaking his hand into your hair and gently pulling you closer. You’re finally kissing him like no one’s watching– it feels so familiar, and yet entirely new.

After not-long-enough, you pull away. “Should I say you kiss by the book or is that too cliche?”

“Well, I did fall for my beautiful costar who I specifically didn’t want to fall for– so I think we’re past cliches at this point.”

You laugh, a clear, genuine sound you thought Jimin would never hear. “I can’t believe this. Should I ask what happens now, or…?”

Jimin quiets. “I’m scared,” he admits. “I don’t want…”

Right, his ex. “The tour ends next month. Do you want to maybe… see where things go from there? Once we don’t have to be Romeo and Juliet?”

“Call me but love, and henceforth I will never be Romeo,” Jimin quotes.

You swat him. “Nerd.”

“No, but that sounds good. Yeah, that sounds…” you can hear his grin, it sounds like sunshine and sugar. “That sounds really, really, good, y/n.”

“Good. So… now what?”

Jimin chuckles mischievously. “Give me my sin again?”

A/N: Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to like, reblog and/or comment. I really appreciate it! <3

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dontgotothenetherworld · 4 years

Note

Can I maybe request an reader whose bj's friend but has been for too long so they know BJ all too well saving the maitland from his advances and falls in love with them?

beetlejuice’s friend

i am incredibly tired rn so i’m not sure if i fully understand what you’re asking, but i’m vibing w/ what i think you’re asking so yea (the maitlands x beej’s friend reader). you say beej’s friend, so reader’s a demon ahaha

also, i (before writing) feel like there are some lines that’re in the script that i can work off of, so there is a good bit of fourth wall breaking. only beej and reader can talk to/ interact with audience.

1493 words

cw: gnreader.

”the people who live there? i’ve been watching them for a while, and yeah it’s very creepy.” beej monologued. or would it be soliloquyed? soliloqueyed doesn’t sound as good, so let’s go with monologued. “and now, finally, they’re about to die!” beej liked talking to the audience. it made him feel important. you rolled your eyes. “they’re gonna be my new best friends!”

you stepped out of the wings. “and what would that make me?” while beej was more of a musical theatre kind of guy, you were much more of a sitcom kind of guy, so you imagined a camera zoom like in the office.

”i’m this asshole’s best friend, and trust me when i say this, that’s not a position you want.” you addressed the audience.

”oh? what position would you prefer?” beej lowered his voice.

you scoffed, “case and point. you’ll be getting a lot of that in this goddamn show. single men, take notes on what not to do!”

beej frowned.

”barbara, i’m home!” speaking of sitcoms, here comes the loving husband. damn, can’t relate.

beetlejuice turned from you to the audience, “adam and barbara maitland!”

”was there traffic on the bridge?” barbara asked like she actually cared. damn, can’t relate.

”bill hadley on his tractor. i was like, “pick a lane, bill.””

”isn’t this amazing? it’s the last day of their entire lives and this is what they’re talking about.” said beetlejuice.

”beej, take you on a random day and say that’s your last day ever. do you say any impressively insightful shit?” you ask.

”absolutely.” beej grins.

”not.” you finish his sentence. the scene returns to the maitlands before he can say anything else.

i’m sure you’ve seen the show, you know how it goes. maitlands are boring, maitlands sing fast because they have anxiety, maitlands conveniently die at the end of their song, beetlejuice rejoices. whatever, we don’t care about that part. i mean we do, just not right now.

”sometimes, puppet shows are sad.” you say, directed at the small child in the third row. who brings their eight year old to see beetlejuice?

”barbara are you alright?” the moment passed.

you and beetlejuice hide offstage as the maitlands figure out they’re dead. It’s rather annoying, when breathers die. they always have the same reaction. they could spice it up sometimes.

you suppose that’s what beej is here to do. to spice up their reactions.

beetlejuice rings the doorbell. without waiting for either of them to answer, he walks right in. he introduces himself and starts singing. you walk in behind him, arms crossed.

one of the cheerleaders runs past you, knocking into your arm.

”i’m the b to the double e j f q and jesus, i can’t spell.” beetlejuice eyed the maitlands up and down.

the maitlands seemed like nice people. they don’t deserve what was sure to come to them. you stood yourself up from the door frame, and made your way to the center of the room where the trio where.

”let’s all get naked!” beetlejuice screamed.

”no!” the maitlands screamed back. you swung your backhanded fist into his stomach.

”oh!” he let out a guttural noise. “worth a try.” he reasoned.

”what is happening?” barbara asked in a shaky voice, her eyes flashing between the two demons before her. one, who hadn’t spoken a single word, and the other who wouldn’t fucking shut up.

beetlejuice went back to trying to convince them that they should ‘hire’ him. while insulting them, of course, because why wait until a relationship turns unhealthy when you can just start it off that way?

”i’m like a ghost zombie jesus!” god, you needed new friends. maybe you can steal the maitlands away. if you think about it, and you do, it would really only be a win situation from that. you wouldn’t have to deal with beej, you’d get some new friends who would be kind to you. the maitlands wouldn’t even have to think about beetlejuice again, and they would get to hang out with you, and not to toot your horn but you’re pretty damn cool. at first, beetlejuice would lose, with the whole everyone abandoning him thing, but you’re pretty sure that it’s be this time that he changed himself to be a better person.

you hope.

”i think we’re a perfect fit! come on, let’s make out a bit!” you physically pushed beetlejuice away from the maitlands.

beej just gave you an annoyed look, and went back to right next to them, giving them is sales pitch.

you slunk off to the couch. you spread your body across it as if you owned it. adam spared you a curious glance. barbara, soon after.

the four of you made your way off stage, to the attic, as the deetzes and their furniture invaded the house.

”hey beej,” you needed to get beetlejuice away from the maitlands, so you could talk to them, but how? “you better spy on the new homeowners so we know what we’re working with.”

”good idea!” he said.

you grabbed his tie in your hand and pulled him close, “and don’t come back until you know what’ll scare them so hard they wished they’d never been born.” beetlejuice wasn’t very sure of himself, so you’d have a while.

”sir, yes sir!” he ran off like a cartoon character, legs going the full 360.

you turned to the maitlands, eyes flicking between them, trying to decide where to start.

”who are you?” asked adam.

”i’m y/n,” you said, “and i’m a demon, just like beetlejuice.” you grinned like the cheshire cat.

the maitlands shared a concerned glance. “are you going to help us too?” asked barbara.

”well, yes, but not the way you think i am.” you began pacing the floor. “first things first, don’t listen to a word that bastard says. the only things he wants is to be alive, and to get into your pants. the former being more important to him, no offense.”

”so he wants to use us?” asked barbara.

”yes, of course.”

”and how do we know you don’t want to use us either?” she asked.

”good question.” you paused to collect your thoughts, “i suppose you’ll just have to trust me.”

the maitlands exchanged another look. do married people do that often? it was starting to get annoying. well, annoying that they weren’t looking at you like that.

after a moment, adam said, “i don’t think we can fully trust you right now, but hopefully that’ll change.”

”quite the optimist, huh? i envy you.” you said.

how to best gain their trust? probably by being the antithesis of their experience with demons so far.

about an hour later, the trio was still brainstorming a plan. “so, why can’t we just lock him into the netherworld again?” adam asked.

”his mother.” you said.

adam nodded, “right, right. we don’t want to put him through that.”

barbara jumped in, ”and if we leave this place, we’ll be eaten by sandworms, but if we go to the netherworld,”

”you’ll be in that waiting room for the rest of eternity, exactly.” you finished.

you sat in silence for a minute, mulling over your options. so far it was seeming that beetlejuice was going to have to go back to his parent’s house.

”what about sending him out to the sand worms?” asked barbara.

”barbara, you’re a genius!” exclaimed adam.

you imagined what would happen. “i think that’ll work.” you said. “oh! and we can put a protection spell on the house after he’s left! then , no demons will be able to get in.” you pulled out a copy of the handbook for the recently deceased, from seemingly nowhere. beej burned barbara’s copy of the book, but not adam’s.

you placed the book on the floor, and you began looking for the spell with the maitlands looking over your shoulders.

”do you know that a spell like that exists?” asked adam.

”of course i do, i just don’t remember how to do it.” you said.

”and do you know that it won’t expel you from the house too?” asked barbara.

”i guess we’ll find out.” you turned to face her.

”i hope it doesn-” barbara was cut off.

”here it is!” exclaimed adam. “and it doesn’t say anything about expelling demons, just keeping them out.” adam skimmed the instructions.

you turned back to the book, and the group sat in silence as you carefully read it all.

you sat back, “i- we can do this.”

the maitlands high-fived. god, they were adorable.

”the real question is, do you still want the new homeowners out of this place? because if i’m being honest, beej would be better at that than me.” you said.

the maitlands shared a look.

”i-” barbara looked at adam, “i think we should talk about it.”

”oh, of course.” you replied. “do you want me to give y’all some privacy?”

”yes please.” said barbara.

@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy @eliza-is-confused @boredomimi

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice fanfiction #lawrence beetlejuice shoggoth #adam maitland #barbara maitland #adam x reader #adam maitland x reader #barbara x reader #barbara maitland x reader #barbara x reader x adam #barbara maitland x reader x adam maitland #fic

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hanniiesuckle17 · 5 years

Text

Offstage

A/n: y'all about to get on me for doing another Jisung imagine………..shut up he is my soulmate okay.💕💕💕 if I got request for other people I wouldnt do him as much😂😂 also this is probably one of the longest imagines ive ever written holy crap

Member: Han Jisung ft Bangchan, Felix, Changbin, and Seungmin

WARNINGS: Swearing (it’s me guys come on, also tumblr I put it in the warnings stop flagging my posts), Jisung being the cocky bitch he is.

Summary: The Dance Dept. and Theatre Dept. have never gotten along. It’s just the stereotype of the arts. However, the teachers are done with that and have decided to include the Dance Dept in the school’s musical this year. What happens when the Queen of the Thespians and the King of the Dancers are forced to cooperate?

Genre: fluff, comedy, romance, enemies to lovers, highschool au, theatre au

“WE’RE WHAT?” I screamed at my closest friend, Bangchan. He took a deep breath before putting his hands on my shoulders. “Y/n, it’s not the end of the world.” No. This was the end of the world.

“Chan, we aren’t seriously letting those cocky small-brained dancers into the show are we?” He nodded and placed a stack of papers on the table. “I just got the notice from Mrs.Kwon.” Fuming, I flopped down in one of the auditorium chairs. I had worked my ass off to get to the status I had in the theatre department. This was my third lead and I wasn’t about to let some dancers ruin the show I cared about.

“Think about it this way. Legally Blonde is a huge dance show. Now some of the pressure for choreography is off. I talked to this guy Felix and he said he would choreograph.” Chan was my best friend and he was graduating this year. This was his last chance to direct one of our shows before he left. If he had to compromise….then I guess I could. “How does Seungmin feel about this?” A crash was heard from the wings.

“MINHO! I NEED YOU TO NOT DROP THE $300 SET PIECE! PLEASE!”

We both flinched at Seungmin’s loud voice. “He’ll be fine……probably. He’s the Stage Manager he is used to problems popping up.”

“MINHO! I SWEAR TO GOD!”

He sighed and shifted through the papers on the director’s table. He looked stressed. This was obviously not how he wanted his show to go. “You want me to stay with you for the extra auditions?” Running a hand through his hair, he turned to me with a tired smile. “No, it’s okay. Woojin wanted to go wig shopping with you anyway. We can’t have a brunette, Elle.” Playfully he shoved me up the aisle.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah! List will be posted outside.”

My eyes bore holes into the clock on the wall. I tried to drown out the loud boys next to me. Felix and Hyunjin were part of the dance department and had too much energy in my opinion. The second the bell rang I sprinted out of my seat and raced to the auditorium. Seungmin and Woojin stood in front of the call board when I arrived.

“What’s up?” Seungmin turned to me with a look that could kill. “Why are there dancers in my show?” Shrugging I turned my eyes to the list and scanned through the names.

“Technically it’s Chan’s show-”

“IT’S MY GOD DAMN SHOW TOO!”

“Ah Fuck.”

The two boys turned to me and asked what was wrong. Without another word I pointed to a name next to the male lead spot. “Han Jisung,” Woojin read aloud. A loud laugh could be heard coming down the hall. We all turned to find Jisung, Felix, and Hyunjin strolling down the hall towards the theatre. They stopped when they saw us.

“L/n.”

“Han.”

“Tightass.”

“Douchebag.”

“You want me.”

“To jump of a cliff? Yes.”

Smirking he ran a hand through his brown hair. “See you in there.” If only real daggers ended up in his back instead of my glare. “Can he even sing? How could Bangchan give Emmett to that……asshole.” Sharing a look the two of them shrugged before opening the door of the auditorium and entering.

The house lights were on and Chan was standing at the edge of a stage with a clipboard. I took a seat in the front row next to my friends Irene and Changbin. Seungmin and Jeongin joined Chan on stage and waited for everyone to quiet down.

“Welcome guys and congratulations for making it onto the Legally Blonde cast and crew!” Everyone clapped and cheered as Chan smiled broadly. “I’m Bangchan your director. This is Seungmin, your Stage Manager. And that is Jeongin our Assistant Director. Cast if you have any problems come to me or Jeongin, and crew you can go to Seungmin.”

Chan hesitated before speaking again. “Just make sure it is a real problem before going to Seungmin. We can’t have another Little Mermaid fiasco again.” The theatre kids laughed, but an obvious silence came from the dance crew.

“Okay. Y/n once again is our amazing lead!” I smiled and waved to my friends who were cheering. “And we have a new addition to the cast! Han Jisung will be playing Emmett, and Hwang Hyunjin will be playing Warner.” I felt eyes on me and turned to find Han smirking a few rows back. Rolling my eyes, I turned back around to listen to the rest of the cast being read off. I congratulated Changbin for getting Callahan and continued half-listening to the rest of the speech.

After the welcoming speech, Chan handed out the scripts and wanted to go directly into blocking. He told us the scene number and the characters needed jumped on stage. Chan amazingly lead and directed us through starting positions for the scene while answering Felix’s many questions about choreography.

Han was polite enough. He took Chan’s coaching well and did okay for his first day. I almost forgot that he was a major dickhead for a moment. Bangchan decided to not do musical numbers on the first day but told us to go home and practice for tomorrow’s first Saturday rehearsal where we would start doing choreography and songs.

My old car sputtered to a stop in the school parking lot. I was maybe an hour early to rehearsal, but that never hurt. I pulled my crop top down and adjusted my leggings and flannel. Reluctantly, I came ready to dance today.

On my way to the auditorium, I passed the dance and stopped when I heard a voice.

She was so close she could taste it

She’s gotta chip on her shoulder

Guess you never can tell

With little Miss Woods comma Elle

Hesitantly I entered the dance studio with my duffle on my shoulder. I was shocked to see Jisung standing in front of the mirror focused on adjusting to the high note, repeating the last few bars over and over again.

“Maybe try singing from your diaphragm.” He jumped at my voice and turned, shocked to see me leaning against the wall. “I mean, you aren’t bad. You just need a little coaching.” I threw my duffle on the ground and walked over to him. It was then I noticed something different about him. That cocky, confident, headass air he had was gone. He looked almost nervous as I came to stand in front of him.

Grabbing his wrist I placed his hand on the upper part of my stomach. “With little Miss Woods comma Elle,” His eyes widened and stared straight into mine. “See. It’s a completely different muscle.” He nodded and continued looking into my eyes.

“Now you.” Placing my hand on top of his I moved it to his own stomach above his diaphragm. “Go on. Try the last stanza.” He looked down at his stomach and took a breath of hair before looking back at me. “Guess you never can tell, with little Miss Woods comma Elle,”

“Yeah! That was great!” I didn’t seem to notice the smile that spread across my face. “Feel better doesn’t it?” He nodded, shocked at his own voice. “That’s actually really cool. Thank you.” He grabbed a water bottle near his bag and handed it to me.

“No problem. You aren’t as bad as I thought you were going to be, Han.”

“Just because I’m a dancer doesn’t mean I can’t sing.”

I shrugged and took a small sip of his water before handing it back to Jisung. “So what is this show actually about?” I laughed and took his script which was sticking out of his bag. Surprisingly it was marked up with notes, and question marks, and highlighted to all hell. “So there is this girl, Elle, that’s me. And after a terrible breakup with her boyfriend, Warner, ‘Hyunjin’, she decides to follow him to Harvard law school so she can win him back.”

“Okay. But he broke up with her?”

“She’s not very smart.”

"Anyway, she goes and she realizes she sucks at law school. So she meets you, Emmett, who is like a Teacher's Assistant who grows a soft spot for her. He helps her study and she actually gets really good at law. So the whole story is about overcoming adversity and stereotype and self-worth and strength. And Elle actually ends up telling Warner off and ends up with Emmett."

Jisung nods along and listens intently the whole time I speak. "This must be your favorite show if you know so much about it." I shook my head and sat down against the mirror. To my surprise, Han sat in front of me. “No. My favorite show is a little more morbid than this.” He scoffed and took a swig of water.

“Aren’t musicals like all happy and we love life and let’s all sing a song!”

“What is it that you think we do?”

“That.”

I sighed, seeing the stubborn personality he had start to shine through. “Listen if you are going to be in this show you have to understand that theatre is a way of expression.” He looked down at the floor. “Like...dance?” My eyes shot up to his face. “Yeah, actually. It’s not enough to just act the character’s feelings. You have to think of them as a real person and find a moment that you can connect to their feelings.”

He seemed kind of spaced and simply stared at me. “Well- um...my friend is in a show next weekend and I think it is a show you might really connect with. Would you maybe want to go? I mean, to see what theatre is actually like.” Why was I offering this to him? I didn’t care. Well, I care about the show.

“With you?”

“It could be like a bonding thing. I’d rather not hate my co-star.”

“Okay. I’ll see you next weekend.”

Looking at the time, we both scrambled to get our things and race to the theater. I couldn’t help but smile at Jisung as we both sat in the back row listening to the schedule being called out.

Nervously I twisted the ring on my right hand. Since when did I become nervous to see Jisung. It had only been a week of rehearsals, but somehow I had grown to like him. He was nice and cracked jokes with me in between scenes. Jisung had also stayed behind several times to help me with choreography.

I smoothed out the dark green dress I had chosen to wear. Was it too tight? Irene did tend to call it my ‘Ass for Days’ dress. The heels I was wearing were also starting to hurt. I stood outside the theater waiting for Jisung. The sun had just started to set and my friend Rocky sent me a text that the show was starting soon and he reserved my seats.

“Holy shit...”

Looking up I saw Jisung stop in his tracks. His eyes looked me up and down, but not in a lustful way. More like a surprised way. I couldn’t help but look at him the same way. He wore a casual fitted black suit and a white dress shirt underneath without a tie. His brown hair which was usually fluffy and tousled was now purposely parted on the side and combed through.

“Hi...”

“You look grea-” “You look beautiful-”

“Sorry...”

Holy fuck. He only looks hot because he is in a suit. That’s just science. All guys are hot in suits. It’s totally not because his hair looks great and I could see how slim his waist was compared to his chest. Oh fuck. He is in suits for the entire second act. Am I going to think like this every time I see him in a suit?

“We should go in!” I said interrupting my own less than pure thoughts. He cleared his throat and nodded, closing the gap between us as I turned to go inside. I mentally scolded myself for blushing when I felt his slender fingers grazing my lower back.

Once we (mostly me) were emotionally and hormonally safe in our seats, the two of us started talking. “So L/n, what is the show called?” He turned to me with a nervous smile. It’s not cute Y/n. It’s the suit. I swear to god it’s the suit. “It’s called A Chorus Line. It is a very dance-heavy show and the actors don’t leave the stage unless it’s intermission.”He nodded and looked around the auditorium for a moment before turning back to me.

“What’s it about?”

“Oh. Um. Well, it is about an audition for the ensemble of a Broadway show. And it talks about the lives and trials each person has had to go through just to be on stage. It’s a really great show.”

Just as he was about to speak the lights dimmed and the orchestra picked up. Throughout the show, I tried to focus on Rocky as he played Paul San Marco, but I couldn’t keep from glancing at Jisung. I couldn’t help but be fascinated by his reaction. He listened intently to the stories and monologues and when intermission came around he asked me all sorts of questions about the show and which character my friend was.

The lights dimmed once more and I couldn’t help but notice that Jisung’s hand gripped the chair tightly during the scene where Paul fell and injured his knee. Worried I looked up to see slow quiet tears on his cheeks. I turned back to the stage and looked up as the scene progressed. Carefully, I let my hand graze over his and I held it lightly. I heard him take a breath and glance over at me, and I hoped my face still seemed intent on the performance.

I tried to ignore the way my heart started beating faster when he moved his hand to lace his fingers with mine.

“I really do appreciate this opportunity to work with you.” My fingers pushed a piece of blonde hair behind my ear as I sat down on the desk near Changbin. We were running the assault scene in the wig and with full set today for the dress rehearsal. Usually I would have met up with Jisung and worked on lines together, but his call time was later than mine. “I have learned so much.” I could see Changbin give me the signal with his eyebrow. An almost ‘are you ready’ secret message that we had between us.

“No, what you’ve learned isn’t the point. You have instincts...and instincts, legal instincts or otherwise can’t be taught.”

His fingers tapped on the desk while he sustained eye contact. If I hadn’t known it was fake, a shudder would go down my spine. My ears picked up the auditorium door opening and closing, but I remained in character, waiting for Changbin to act on his cue.

“Trust... your instincts.”

There was a pause and I continued acting oblivious. ‘Suddenly’ Changbin’s lips were crashing against mine and his hands were groping at my ass. After waiting for my cue from Hyori, I pushed Bin away and did the slap we practiced. Bin laughed quite sleazily and touched his cheek. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

“Awesome! Let's change the set for Elle and Emmett.” Bangchan called from the director’s desk.

Turning I saw Jisung standing in the middle of the aisle, his grip tight on his backpack. He wore the tank top and sweats he always wore after coming from dance practice and a backwards white cap. Even from the audience I could see a mix of emotions on his face, and none were good. Things between Jisung and I had become more flowing. It turns out it wasn’t just the suit. However, I didn’t want to get into anything serious with my castmate. I didn’t even know if he liked me.

I jumped off of the stage to let Seungmin yell at the underclassmen to move sets. Running up to Jisung I greeted him with a smile. “Hi!” His face still looked sad, but he tried to cover it with a small smile. “Hi...I saw your scene. You were great. I almost couldn’t tell you were acting.”

“Thanks! You look cute in hats.” Playfully I grabbed it, letting his fluffy hair loose and placing the white hat over my blonde wig. “Yeah well, I like your natural hair better.” That same sad smile came over his face. It didn’t quite reach his eyes and I was surprised I took notice of a detail so small.

“Hey...you look nervous. Are you okay?” My hand reached out for his arm and he looked down at the touch. “Yeah. I’m fine, Y/n.” I smirked and looked up at the boy before putting the hat back on his head. “What? No more L/n?” He shrugged, but I saw a flash of a smile. “Will you help me with choreo after rehearsal?” He nodded and tossed his stuff in a chair next to Hyunjin. With a smile I thanked him and walked over to Bangchan who gave me notes on the next scene.

Three hours later Jisung and I were in the dance studio running over the biggest number I had. “And mark the lift, 1 2 3 4. Good!” He smiled and turned off the music.

“I mean, you aren’t bad. You just need a little coaching.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as Jisung used the same thing I said to him on me. “Well what have you been doing the last four weeks, huh? Should I ask Hyunjin to help me instead!” Laughing I jumped onto him and playfully pulled him down to the floor. He rolled me off of his chest and propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at me.

“Nah. I’m much better than him.”

“Really. Should I tell him that?”

“.......Since when are you so close anyway!”

He jokingly yelled. That bright smile beamed on his face and ran all the way up to his eyes. There was a moment of comfortable silence and we just lay looking at each other. In that moment, I started to question if he didn’t have feelings for me. Then he broke the silence.

“So, how do you do that thing?” He looked down at the hardwood floor. “What thing?” “You know...you and Changbin. It wasn’t real.....right?” He looked up at me, almost hopeful. Pushing my self up, I sat cross-legged and looked down at him. “What? The stage kiss. No. Bin is gay. Trust me.”

“Wait what?”

“You haven’t seen Felix and him making out in the light booth?”

“WHAT?”

I laughed at the shocked look on his face and slightly pushed his shoulder. “You’re oblivious.” He shrugged and looked back up at me. “So, how do you do it?” He started playing with the ring on my right hand. “Are you nervous about our kiss--Oh- Have you never kissed anyone!!?” Jisung shot upright.

“I have kissed lots of girls!”

“Oh, okay.”

“I HAVE!”

“Yet, you are still nervous for our kiss.”

He brought his knees up and rested his arms on them. It took every inch of my self control not to stare at his arms. “Well, it’s gonna be in front of hundreds of people so yeah. A little.”

“It’s easy. Ours especially.” I snatched his white hat from him again and he chuckled when it was a little too big for me without my wig. “Explain, good madam.” “Both are at the end of the show,” I said have laughing and him nodding along.

“The first lasts exactly one eight count and then we do the rest of the song. The second is the cue for the blackout. Not long at all.” He nodded again, yet I didn’t think I had put him at rest. “Would it help set you at ease if we rehearsed it? That way you’ve done it when it is just you and me and not six hundred and eighty four people.”

Thinking about it, he nodded and followed my lead when I stood up and cued up the music. “Okay, so I’ve just proposed,” I stated getting done on one knee. I looked up to find him smirking.

“Having fun done there?”

“I will punch you in the nuts and not regret it. You really will be singing tenor then.”

“Okay moving on.”

He laughed and looked down at me slipping the pretend ring on his finger. He sang his line with the track. A real laugh left my lips when he picked me up in a hug and spun me around. The note sounded loud and clear in the dance studio and ended when my feet touched the ground. He looked into my eyes and his hand came up to my cheek before he kissed me.

I tried to ignore the tingling sensation that ran through my body as soon as his lips touched mine. I tried to ignore how even though he had been dancing for hours he still smelled like vanilla and the grass after a storm. I tried to focus on measuring the eight count, but my mind went foggy when I felt his hand bury itself in my hair. Well if I’m not counting he is, so it’s fine. It’s fine.

Jisung subconsciously took the control I gave him. He slowed the kiss from its original pace. Every time I thought he was pulling away he came back to my lips and I thought I could feel him smiling. After a moment he pulled away and looked into my eyes. At that moment I snapped out of it, realizing the song had already ended. He was still looking at me with his big brown eyes.

“The song is over...” His voice was low and almost a whisper. “Yeah...we kinda missed our cue.” What should I do? For once in my life....my mind was blank. “Uh...I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess?” He said with the corner of his lips quirking up. After a nod, he smiled and pulled away from me. Jisung stole glances back at me frozen in place as he picked up his bag and left.

The next day I walked into the auditorium in a crop and shorts. Immediately my eyes found Jisung and a wide smile spread across my face. Slowly it fell when I saw him talking to Hyori, a smirk evident on her small face. Her eyes met mine for a second before she reached out to Han’s arm. Suddenly he turned and saw me. A cold expression resonated over his sharp features.

After saying something to her, Han looked away and headed backstage. While my heart screamed to storm over to Hyori and ask what kind of game she was playing with Han, but my head told me to let it go and focus on tonight’s show.

Woojin caught up with me and helped me get in costume and makeup for the show. Every time I tried to talk to Jisung he would just avoid me and tell me some random excuse. Even Hyunjin came up to ask me what was wrong with his friend. Soon the wig came on and it was time for the start of the show.

The laughs and cheers sounded from the crowd but in the back of my mind and in the corner of my eye I could see Han in the wings, watching me with that cold expression.

I feel so much better...

Than before

My throat burned and my stomach clenched as I held out the last note. If I couldn’t know what was going on with Jisung, I was damn sure going to give the best show I’ve ever done. Even if it destroyed my vocal cords and my body. My voice was the thing I could control right now, and it would do what I told it to. So, I told it to keep the note strong and not take the second breath.

With the conductor’s cue, I stopped and smiled brightly at the audience before the stage went black for intermission. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bangchan bolted from his front-row seat in the audience and sprinted backstage. Seungmin and Changbin both rushed up and gave me a bottle of water.

“God damn Y/n! I knew you had pipes but I thought fossil fuel was the reason we were running out of oxygen.”

“Y/n!”

Chan rushed up to me and threw me over his shoulder. “I love you. I love you. I love you, but please save your voice. We kinda need it for the second act.” I smiled and nodded, my eyes looking everywhere for Jisung. I had ten minutes to change costumes, wigs, makeup check, and somehow get him to talk to me.

“Where’s Jisung? I need to-umm...ask him about the costume change for ‘Take it Like a Man’“. I asked as calmly as possible after I had changed. Woojin told me that he was in the guy’s dressing room changing suits. Charging down the dark cramped backstage hall I opened the door to find Changbin and Jisung. With look towards Changbin he scurried out the door leaving me and Jisung alone.

“We have three minutes until curtain. You better tell me what the fuck is going on, Han.”

“Why don’t you tell me, huh?”

His brows furrowed as he raised his voice. His outburst stunned me for a moment. “Is this just this thing you do? Messing with your co-stars? Huh, L/n?” I could see in his eyes he was truly hurt. “Where the hell did you get that from!” He scoffed and finished doing his tie. “Hyori told me all about you and Jungkook.”

“Hyori?”

“Yes.”

“Hyori? The girl who Jungkook cheated on me with? Only so I would so devastated to miss the opening night and she could fill in for me.”

His expression changed drastically. “She lied?” He sank down in one of the cheap metal chairs. “Yeah it’s kind of her shtick.” He ran a hand through his hair before looking up at me again. “Y/n I am so sorry-” “I just can’t believe you trusted her word over anything I would have told you.” A heavy silence came between us and all I could do was stare at him in disbelief.

“Come on people! WARNING is NOT a suggestion! PLACES is NOT a category on jeopardy! GO is NOT A FUCKING OPTION!”

Seungmin yelled down the hall and Jisung sighed and got up from the chair. “Y/n, I-” He stopped when I put up my hand. “Listen...we’ll talk after the show.” I just had to get out of there.

Han grabbed my arm and blocked the set door. “Hey. Hey. We’ll fix it. We’ll fight it.” Something in his eyes told me the emotion was real. “Emmett. There is no reason for me to stay.” I opened the door and closed it walking onto the other side and closing it. The music started to swell and I could feel all this pent up emotion in my chest. “What about love? You never mentioned love.”

I could hear the crack in Jisung’s voice that wasn’t usually there. “You never mentioned love. The timing’s bad, I know. But perhaps if I’d made it more clear, that you belong right here, then you wouldn’t have to go.” My throat started to close up but I pushed through it and took a breath for my part of the song where we sang over each other. “Because you know that I’m so much in love-”

Back to the sun

Back to the shore

Back to what I was before

Lie on the beach, dream within reach

Don’t stray beyond

I felt real tears come down my cheeks as I moved downstage to face the lights. In my side vision I saw Jisung do the same. I had thought that I could be different. That he was different. That maybe we could put this unspoken rivalry behind us.

If you can hear, can I just say

How much I want you to stay

We returned to the door, but this time something felt different when I pressed my hand to the door.

It’s not up to me just let me be legally blonde

Seungmin pushed everyone on stage for the final scene and Woojin tugged the graduation camp over my wig and hurriedly covered the curtain call dress with the robe. Throughout the scene I couldn’t help but steal glances at Jisung. It wasn’t his fault. He had no way of knowing about Jungkook and Hyori.

Walking over to Han, I gave him a genuine smile and got down on one knee. “Emmett Forest please make me the happiest woman I know!” I sang with sureness. He spun me around like once before and took my face in his slender fingers.

And kissed me.

The grin on my lips was so big that it hurt my cheeks. I had to tap him on the shoulder when we needed to sing, but pulling away his smile was so big and genuine. He knew I had forgiven him. It felt so hard not to just stop singing and just jump into his arms. We both rushed up to the platform upstage and stood in the center.

Jisung smiled down at me and moved the tassel onto the other side of my cap, like he was supposed to. With the final cue of music, I couldn’t take it anymore and I tangled my fingers into his soft brown hair and crashed my lips onto his. I heard the roaring applause which meant the stage lights were in blackout for curtain call, but he was still kissing me. “Curtain call?” I whispered against his lips, in case my mic was still on. I felt him nod and pushed me further back on the platform and behind the center curtain without parting from my lips.

I laughed as he tried to help me pry of the robe for curtain call. “Take a break for a sec,” I said laughing and he joined me. He and I both fumbled with the buttons and tossed the hat and robe off stage to reveal the bright pink and sparkly dress for the closing of show.

“I’m impatient. Come back here.”

His hands pulled me back by my waist and pressed a heated kiss on my lips once more. Kissing him felt like time stopping. At first, I didn’t notice the cheering audience as the curtain rose again, and I honestly didn’t care. Han pulled away and smiled at me before doing his bow and then he motioned to me and the audience cheered. We clapped as Bangchan and Seungmin did their bows.

“There’s a party later. Are you going, L/n?”

“Duh. Cast party.”

“You gonna wear that green dress from last time?”

“You gonna wear that suit from last time?”

The entire cast did another bow and the curtain closed fully. When the red fabric touched the floor of the stage the cast and crew went crazy and Jisung wrapped me up in another kiss.

“HEY! NO MAKING OUT ON MY SET!”

“Sorry, Seungmin.”

“THAT DOESN”T MEAN DO IT AGAIN!”

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goodticklebrain · 5 years

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Q&A August: Austin Tichenor of the Reduced Shakespeare Company

They say you should never meet your heroes, but obviously “they” were never enlightened enough to consider Austin Tichenor of the Reduced Shakespeare Company a hero. Like many Shakespeare geeks, I was exposed to Reduced Shakespeare Company’s performance of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (abridged) at an impressionable young age. Once the DVD came out, I watched it over and over again, soaking up the irreverence and affection for Shakespeare like a sponge. It never occurred to me that I would one day meet the curly-haired pompous idiot in the black pants whose antics had entertained me so much, let alone be lucky enough to call him a friend, but that’s exactly what has happened.

I first met Austin (after exchanging mutually admiring tweets with him) in April of 2016, during their world premiere of William Shakespeare’s Long Lost First Play (abridged) at the Folger Library. I was prepared to be utterly starstruck, but Austin was so wonderfully down-to-earth that within minutes I felt like I’d known him forever. Totally lacking the pomposity and idiocy of his stage persona, Austin was overwhelmingly encouraging and supportive of my work, immediately welcoming me to play with him in the Shakespeare comedy sandbox. I had literally just started working full-time on Good Tickle Brain, so his enthusiasm meant the world to me.

I could gush about Austin for many more paragraphs, but I’m sure you’d rather hear from him, so here he is, my Comedy Fairy Godfather, in his own words!

1. Who are you? Why Shakespeare?

I’m Austin Tichenor, a playwright, director, and actor. I'm the co-artistic director of the Reduced Shakespeare Company, a three-person comic theatre troupe that reduces long serious topics into short silly comedies.

My first exposure to Shakespeare was undoubtedly in the original series of Star Trek! I read Shakespeare in high school English classes and got to see fantastic productions of Shakespeare at American Conservatory Theatre in San Francisco and the Berkeley Reprtory Theatre, but I didn’t get to actually WORK on Shakespeare until grad school where I both played Claudius in a production of Hamlet and reduced my first Shakespeare (it was a directorial exercise: a five minute reduction of Much Ado About Nothing). My first professional theatre job was creating plays for young people so I went to Shakespeare immediately, creating 45 minute cuttings of Much Ado, Midsummer, and The Tempest.

So the opportunity to join the RSC in 1992 and perform its signature work The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (abridged) (written by the RSC’s founders) in London’s West End for eight months combined all my theatrical loves: smart silly comedy, non-realistic theatricality, and Shakespeare — which is kinda redundant, now that I think about it

2. What moment(s) in Shakespeare always make you laugh?

My favorite moments are typically when characters make incredible discoveries about themselves, and these are usually comic. Malvolio’s “I am…happy!” Terrible actor Francis Flute fully committing to the moment on “Dead, my dove?” Benedick’s “There’s a double meaning in that.” Hamlet toying with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, or telling Claudius he “shall nose” the dead Polonius as he goes upstairs. Olivia’s “Most wonderful!” when the penny drops and she realizes “Cesario” is actually Viola (and Sebastian’s twin).

3. What's a favorite Shakespearean performance anecdote?

I have two!

1) We were performing William Shakespeare’s Long Lost First Play (abridged) for the Shakespeare Theatre Association conference — the savviest and most knowledgeable group of people I’ll probably ever perform for, ever. I was playing Richard III and limping downstage to say my first line, one of the most famous first lines in all of Shakespeare. But I was distracted because I saw there were people sitting on the sides and I didn’t want to limp too far downstage for them to see — and in my distraction I said, “Now is the moment of our...” As soon as the word was out of my mouth, I knew I’d blown the line (it’s supposed to be “Now is the winter of our discontent”) and I knew I couldn’t pretend that it hadn’t happened; not in front of that crowd, not in our style of show. So I quite audibly said, “Oh f&$# me,” and limped back offstage to come in again. This time I said the line right and emphasized the first word: “Now is the winter of our discontent!” It brought down the house and everyone asked whether I’d planned it. Sigh…no, I hadn’t.

Mya interjects: I was in the house for this performance and this moment remains one of the highlights of my theatre-going career. What Austin neglects to mention here is that Reed, who had been left alone onstage after Austin had retreated, went over to the wings as if to confer with Austin, and said, sotto voce, “No, I don’t think anybody noticed.”

2) We were performing The Complete Works on a stage that had a little runway that circled the orchestra pit. In one of the scenes, Adam Long (one of the RSC’s founding members) decided to hop over the pit, from the stage to the runway, and he ended breaking the runway floor and falling through the boards. Thankfully uninjured, and delighted that he had this opportunity, he immediately uttered the immortal words, “Don’t worry, it’s just a stage I’m going through."

4. What's one of the more unusual Shakespearean interpretations you've either seen or would like to see?

I’m glad that nowhere in here have you asked what my favorite play is. I don’t have favorite Shakespeare plays, but I do have favorite productions. Here are two:

1) The Folger Theatre at the Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington DC’s production of Love’s Labor’s Lost was delightful from start to finish: Incredibly smart, wildly funny, and wonderfully charming. The director and her team made the King’s desire for “a little academe” quite literal by re-creating the Folger Library’s handsome reading room onstage. (I wrote about this terrific production here.)

2) The Chicago Shakespeare Company production of The Tempest, co-directed by Aaron Posner and the magician Teller, turned Prospero into an actual wizard and filled the production with literal magic. (There must have been magic in Shakespeare’s original production as the First Folio has a stage direction that mentions that characters disappear by means of “a quaint device”. Teller filled his production with many quaint magic tricks and devices!) With music by Tom Waits and great comedy from its clowns, it was the most entertaining and completely realized production of The Tempest I've ever seen.

Favorite moments?

When Henry IV (Jeremy Irons) slaps his snotty son Prince Hal (Tom Hiddleston) in The Hollow Crown adaptation of Henry IV, Part 1 taking him (and the audience) by total surprise.

When Francis Flute’s (Sam Rockwell) emotions bubble to the surface unexpectedly in the ridiculous “Pyramus and Thisbe” in the film version of Midsummer.

When Juliet (Claire Danes) stirs and almost wakes up in time to prevent Romeo (Leonardo DiCaprio) from killing himself in Baz Lurhmann’s Romeo + Juliet.

When Antigonus (Gregory Linington) distracted the Bear, dooming himself but preventing the death of Perdita, in the Goodman Theatre production of one of my least favorite plays The Winter’s Tale.

5. What's one of your favorite Shakespearean "hidden gems”?

The hidden gem of Shakespeare is actually right out in the open: He’s written incredibly theatrical plays, filled with rich and elusive characters that still fascinate us 400 years later, and even the most serious of his plays (including his Histories and especially his Tragedies) contain more comedy than is generally realized (or pulled off). Shakespeare was a showman whose livelihood depended on entertaining his audiences, so he created plays filled with music, devices, comic bits, fascinating characters, time jumps, changing perspectives, and shifting tones that are always serious (especially his Comedies) but never solemn.

(You don’t ask what my Shakespearean pet peeve but here it is: Productions that lack urgency and ignore the above, as in: Comedies that are beautiful-looking and melancholy but not funny. Histories that ignore the comic chaos that Shakespeare layers in. Tragedies that are one-note, over-the-top, and not in any way believable. Romances that equate pastoral with languid and not compelling. Argh.)

6. What passages from Shakespeare have stayed with you?

Oh so many...

Beatrice’s “Kill Claudio,” which comes seemingly out of the blue and yet is so right.

Falstaff’s honor speech, when done right, in front of a live audience.

And I find Miranda’s “O brave new world that hath such people in’t” just incredibly moving. (I’m always moved by Joy. Tragedy can suck it.)

Mya interjects: “Tragedy can suck it” might be my new personal motto now. Thanks, Austin.

7. What Shakespeare plays have changed for you?

Henry VI, Part 1. Reading it again recently, I was struck by the level of chaos Shakespeare depicts in a kingdom struggling without a ruler. It’s almost like Monty Python meets Veep: Sentences can’t get finished because people are running in and out, declaring “I’m in charge! I’m in charge!” with grand impotence. Of course Shakespeare would write it like that: He needed to entertain his audience, who were probably also nervous about their aging queen who had yet to declare a successor. Shakespeare created a chaotic warning that England shouldn’t descend into that kind of comically dangerous madness again — a warning that wasn’t really heeded, unfortunately.

8. What Shakespearean character or characters do you identify the most with?

Having played so many of them (albeit in reduced forms), that’s a tough call. But because I’m also an actor and a playwright, the ones I probably identify with the most are Shakespeare's seemingly autobiographical ones: Peter Quince, the only (I think) actor-playwright in the canon. Hamlet, the Danish prince with surprisingly strong opinions about theatre’s power and how certain speeches should be played (and how annoying comedians can be). Benedick, who struggles with his writing so comically. Suffolk, who in Henry VI, Part 1 declares, “I’ll call for pen and ink and write my mind.” And Bottom, of course, who thinks he can play anything.

Mya interjects: PETER QUINCES OF THE WORLD, UNITE!

9. Where can we find out more about you? Are there any projects/events you would like us to check out?

I’ve spent the last several years doing incredibly deep dives into Shakespeare, across many media:

My RSC partner Reed Martin and I wrote Pop-Up Shakespeare, an incredibly fun (and useful) introduction to the Bard’s life and works with beautiful, amazing, and funny illustrations by Jennie Maizels.

I contribute monthly essays about the intersection between Shakespeare and popular culture for the Folger Shakespeare Library’s Shakespeare & Beyond blog.

My weekly podcast (now in its 13th year) is a backstage glimpse into the life and works of the Reduced Shakespeare Company, featuring interviews with our many comedian, actor, playwright, author, director, composer, dramaturg, and artist friends and many many deep dives into matters Shakespearean.

Reed and I also wrote the definitive irreverent reference book, Reduced Shakespeare: The Complete Guide for the Attention-Impaired (abridged), which is still inexplicably in print (perhaps cuz it’s definitive).

We also wrote the stage play William Shakespeare’s Long Lost First Play (abridged) (“An absolute resolute hoot of a bawdy comedy of errors!” Broadway World), which premiered at the Folger Theatre in 2016, has toured the US and the UK, and is available for licensing via Broadway Play Publishing.

And in November 2019, the RSC will perform the international premiere in Israel of our brand new script Hamlet’s Big Adventure (a prequel) — what would happen if Tom Stoppard wrote Muppet Babies. It’s the comedy of the Prince of Denmark!

If after reading all this, for some insane reason you still want to get in touch, come find me here on Twitter. I think Mya will agree that it’s a much more civilized and fun place than its reputation suggests.

(Back to Mya) Thanks so much to Austin for taking the time to answer my questions! If you want to HEAR us actually talking to each other check out:

Reduced Shakespeare Co. Podcast #493

Reduced Shakespeare Co. Podcast #532

Reduced Shakespeare Co. Podcast #653

Q&A August continues next week with two phenomenal women who are using Shakespeare to build the most amazing things.

#Q&A August #shakespeare #reduced shakespeare company

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adabassist · 4 years

Text

COMMUNICATION BREAKDOWN

After over 15 years of dealing with the symptoms of a neurological auto-immune disease, you start to wonder if you’ve seen all the various permutations of the day-to-day things that get in your way. At the completion of this performance, I can safely say the answer is a big fat NO… although the “disability” didn’t come in a form associated with MS this time.

These days, when I gig out, I gotta have help. That’s just all there is to it. I warn everyone I perform with that I am not self-sufficient; to my utter amazement, nobody has refused to help or even complained. I am always very grateful for these wonderful people, whether bandmates, fans, or SWMBO (who does it a lot and even revels in directing traffic to a large extent).

When SWMBO doesn’t tag along, I have to tell people what I need help with: what’s coming out of the van, where it goes, who’s willing to park my van if a space isn’t convenient, here’s what I need out of which bag, what assistance I need getting on/off stage, where things go when they go back in the van, etc.

All of which is easy to do - unless you have LARYNGITIS.

I happen to be prone to this mostly-just-annoying condition for some reason. I think this bout made it an even dozen for me. I even used to keep a “Flintstones Magic-Slate” around - where you would write on the wax paper with a plastic “pen”, lift the paper, and the writing would vanish - for just such occasions. I used to get it every other year for quite some time, and then it quit showing up. Until the day before a certain gig in the local metropolis…

I had been rehearsing with a group that played Dominican music — bachatas, merengue, etc. — and I didn’t even know there was such a thing a year ago. Through the various contacts I’ve made with the salsa bands I’ve been working with, I ended up being the only “non-Caribbean” musician in a group that was doing a tribute to Antony Santos. Easy stuff if you grew up listening and playing it; very difficult to sound authentic if you didn’t. Our first gig was opening for a Dominican artist at a big club about 70 miles away. There were going to be about 500-600 people in the audience, so it was a pretty big deal.

The night before the show, my voice drops an octave and a half. I have a good time imitating Darth Vader and Lurch from The Addams Family.

Wake up the next morning and my voice is GONE. Nothing.

So I warn the band members via text: I will require extra consideration at the gig because I have no voice. A few jokes made at my expense, sure, fine, whatever.

What’s making this even more difficult is that a Winter Storm Warning went into effect at 4 pm, and they’re expecting about 8” of snow. Great.

So my mind begins taking stock of the situation: no voice, unfamiliar club, long drive through dangerous snowy conditions, Friday night traffic. Hoo boy. This oughta be fun.

I had texted the bandleader earlier in the day asking what the odds were that weather might cancel this show. He replied that the only way this show would be cancelled is if the end of the world came that afternoon. Uh-huh.

So I leave early, expecting the worst.

First 40 miles of the trip were fine; just barely damp roads, and hardly anyone out there. I’m guessing the storm scared most of the drivers off. Those that were willing to brave the freeway were scared enough of the left lane for some reason that I made pretty good time to that point.

By then the snow was starting to stick and collect, and I’m officially glad I left early. The last 30 miles of the trip take an hour and a half, including 25 minutes for the last 3 miles on surface roads. I’m starting to get annoyed at myself, thinking that no one is going to show up for this performance in a big snowstorm, regardless of what the bandleader said earlier, and I’ve risked life and limb for nothing.

I arrive on time - hooray! Amazing! However, nobody else managed to make it by the time I arrived. (How does the guy who had the farthest to go get there FIRST?) I drive to the back of the venue to find the sketchiest loading ramp I’ve ever seen, and to make matters worse, the snow hadn’t been shoveled or dealt with in any way. And so, with no assistance, I go and park in the HC spot up front, and wait. And wait some more.

Bandleader was right - the main parking lot was full, and overflow was nearly full as well. I watch everyone in their finest concert-going clothes — short dresses and high heels, partially covered by ski parkas — pass my van as I continue to wait.

After 40 minutes, a band member shows up! Hooray! He gets stuff out of my van, and I get my rollator (rolling walker) out and follow. I am given instructions to “go in and go straight back to the stage”. Before I could get better details, he was off. So I follow as best I can.

Got to the front door, and am waved over by the ticket guy who gave me a wristband. After a once-over by security I’m sent through to the dance floor. The bandleader wasn’t exaggerating; there’s got to be nearly 1000 people in here. It's a sea of Latinos! Latinos who apparently have never seen a rolling walker before, too, judging by their reaction. Or maybe their expressions said “I wonder if this gringo is in the right place”…

Now I'm left to guess what "straight back" means. Stage left or stage right? I pick stage right, and 200 feet later I see the guitarist, who happens to be the only non-english speaking member of the group. I sit, shake his hand, and wait.

And wait.

So I check my phone to see if there are any updates. The bandleader is stuck in the snow on his way to the venue. The band member who grabbed my gear is looking for me; apparently I should have picked stage left instead of right, as there is a barricade in front of the stage right steps, and I can't convince anyone to move it (I picked a very inconvenient time to lose my voice). The guitarist is just happy to wait and do nothing until someone gets his attention in spanish.

The other band member finally finds us (I guess he doesn't know what "stage right" means!) and leads us through the mass of humanity on the dance floor to the stage stairs on the other side. Stairs are a bit treacherous, but traversable (stairs are NEVER good, but there are always ways up and down even if your leg doesn’t work).

My gear is onstage waiting for me. I find my chair, sit down, plug in, have my case/etc. moved offstage, tune up, and wait.

And wait...

The soundman comes by and tells me I've plugged into the wrong DI box, and gets me set up and running through the amp. It's pretty quiet though, and the chair was placed in such a way that there's NO way I can reach the knobs to turn up. So I signal to a bandmate to help, who says he'll be right back.

So I wait some more... 10+ minutes later, he shows up again and helps me out.

Keep in mind that communication for me involved getting as close to someone's ear as possible and "shouting" to be heard. I've seen more ears close up in the last 24 hours than I want to for a while.

After what I'm sure is another 15 minutes, everyone else has arrived, set up, and been soundchecked, and we begin (30 minutes late). Very receptive crowd. Lots of folks dancing. Band sounds good, everyone is paying attention, I only made a few mistakes, and the bandleader later said that I did an amazing job. Very pleased, considering this is a totally new style of music for me!

So we finish our 8-song set, I take my bass off, unplug, and watch everyone leave the stage....

....and wait.

All this waiting because I’m sitting on a chair, my walker has been moved to the wings, and I have no voice with which to holler for help. So I can’t move or talk. I literally have to wait for someone to take pity on me, as woe-is-me as that sounds.

Finally someone comes and gets my walker, bass case, etc., and I get stuff put away and make my way towards stage left where the stairs are. A band member follows with my bass and cords bag.

I get to the stairs, someone takes the walker and parks it at the bottom, and as I begin my descent, a series of women (groupies?) try to pass me going UP the stairs - like one every 10 seconds - wanting to talk to someone from our band or the one following us. It was a bit of a confused shouting match between those who wanted up and those who were trying to help me down to explain that they need to WAIT or they were going to knock me over.

One bandmate kept saying, "Take your time, you got this, don't let them rush you." That was really helpful, just to know that someone is watching and advocating for you when you’re unable to do that for yourself (one of the many amazing things about SWMBO, for that matter).

Once I was safely down the stairs, I made my way to the back entrance w/ aforementioned loading ramp, blessedly very near the stage stairs. A band member took my bass, bag, and keys, and pulled my van around back for me. I knew the loading ramp was in no better shape than when I arrived, but I was willing to take my chances because the crowd was much larger and rowdier than when I went in. But I began to regret that decision as I made my way down what had to be a 25% grade with a rollator whose handbrakes needed to be adjusted. It took well over 5 minutes to get me about 45 feet.

Made it down a very snowy ramp, through some "plow drifts", and finally to the van. Thanked everyone profusely (if silently!), got in, and sent a message to SWMBO that I was headed home.

Surface roads might have been WORSE on the way home. Thankfully I'm very experienced in snow driving — even with my convoluted method for operating a motor vehicle — and didn't hit anything, get hit by anyone, or panic at all. Enough gas in the car, no deadlines, slow and steady wins the race, made it home in one piece.

The show must, and did, go on!

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