#deh however...........

[adaricruz]

corpse bride au i came up with last year . inspired by my backstory for connor <3 connor is emily , tate is victor & violet is victoria . connor is wearing tate’s ring . nothing seems more fitting than connor suffering even in death .

original concept under the cut .

switched the lack of nose for an open skull & i added little maggots + a boutonnière to the new drawing .

[nomaishuttle]

since the first spotify wrapped broadway/show tunes has always been in my top genres and by 2020 i was so embarassed abt it and then i got One year of it not being in there and i was like Wow. i have left my past behind the future is bright and happy. And then sweeney fucking got me

[unproduciblesmackdown]

transcribed some parts of this fun & informative podcast interview of will roland’s that i thought were especially so, but also the entire thing is great so feel free to check it out in full via the link in the source:

(re: The Panic of ‘29)

Charles: When you're working on a play like this that's set in a very specific period, how do you sort of do research, and were there any specific people that you based this character on, or...?

Will: Um, y'know, the character is, uh—is loosely based on, uh, [laughs] loosely based on a character that I played in another show? I sort of imagined, uh, Jimmy to be a younger version of, um.... Every year, uh—well, not for the past few years, but for many, many years, uh, we've done, uh, with Joe Iconis, we've done, uh, a big Christmas Extravaganza. Uh, and one of the recurring characters in that, uh, is a character named [in Mr. Macabee voice] Mr. Macabee, the old-timey barkeep! [drops voice] And he's, uh, y'know, he's a sort of mystical barkeep, uh—uh, who sort of serves as a—a spirit guide in that show, and I thought, like, "Oh, I wonder if Jimmy is like—if a young Jimmy Armstrong becomes a—a Mr. Macabee as—[laughing] as he gets older," um, and so, uh, it—it began sort of there...

—

(also re: The Panic of ‘29)

Charles: And have there been a lot of changes made to this play, or—or any changes since you've started with it?

Will: Um, y'know, since—since we started, uh, there have been—there have certainly been some changes? Y'know, some—some little stuff here, reacting to what actors are doing, um, y'know, they added a scene, uh, while we were in rehearsals? Um, y'know, there's, uh.... Without spoiling too much, there's a large explosion near the end of the show, and I think that, uh, one of the things that they wanted to do for clarity was they added a scene, uh, wherein we meet, uh, the people who are responsible for that explosion. That was not in it when we started.

—

Charles: And so now I would love to go all the way back to the beginning to ask you: how did you first become interested in theatre?

Will: Oh, how'd I first become interested in theatre—I think that, um, I have always had a sort of performer's streak? Um, I think, y'know, even as a little kid, uh, my family would identify sort of—I loved sort of singing and playing pretend and—and—and I was a very animated, (Charles: [laughs]) and—and—I—always a storyteller, um, I did, uh—I've always loved the film It's A Wonderful Life? Uh, it's one of my favorite movies ever, uh, and I used to do, like, a George Bailey impression when I was like, five years old. 'S a very—'s a very strange thing for a five year old [laughing] to latch on to, but I—but that was what sort of got me going, um, and then, uh, as I got a little older, um, I started doing theatre in school, y'know, in middle school, and I—and I think that...it started out as, like, 'Oh, I'll give this a try,' and then, as I did it, ah, the thing that kept me there, I think, was less, like, the theatre per se, I think it could've been an—any activity, but I was really drawn to the community, and I was really drawn to the kind of spirit of collaboration, and, uh, y'know, I think I loved being in rehearsals, and building sets, and—and—y'know, doing runs of shows; I think all of—all the people, and the social aspect really appealed to me? Um, and then as I got a little older, um, y'know, as I was starting to go to college, and—and think about where I was applying, and what I wanted to study, um...it sort of occurred to me, and I was like, 'Oh, maybe...I would like to try to be a professional actor.' Which—which is sort of a thing that had not, uh... It wasn't that I'd, like, never thought about it, but it was not, like, I wasn't, like, ten years old, being like, 'I'm gonna be on Broadway someday!' That was not my, uh, trajectory. Um...and I think that, uh, I—I have been very blessed, I—I've had a really wonderful career, um, I didn't really do anything professionally before I graduated college. I was—I was fully nose in the books, um, y'know, doing educational theatre for many, many years. Um, and—and once I graduated college, I sort of tried my hand, uh, working professionally. And—and my first job was actually, uh, here! At 59E59. So. I'm returning to the scene of the crime, as it were. [Laughs]

Charles: And when you made this decision about being a professional actor, were your parents and people around you supportive of it, or, how'd that sort of go?

Will: Yes. I'm, uh, I'm very lucky. I—I have, um, I have a group of, uh, my family especially, uh, is incredibly, incredibly supportive, has always been incredibly supportive, um, it's one of those things that, um... Everybody has their own journey through this world, and I have always sort of marvelled at folks who have done it without family support? I just don't know—personally, I don't think I—I would have the strength. (Charles: [laughs]) Because there are so many...people and forces in this—in this life, in this career, uh, who are telling you, uh, 'You can't, you shouldn't, you're not enough, you're incorrect, if you just fix this one thing, blah blah blah blah blah—' Some of them are trying to be helpful, some of them are not. But there's a lot of energy, uh, that sort of says, like...is not supportive, overtly. Um, and my parents have always been a no questions asked [laughs] unconditional support element. I could do bad work, and they will say it is good. And I think that it is, uh, I think if you're gonna embark on this kind of career, anything where you have to put yourself out there this much, um...you gotta have somebody who is just like, 'You're good!' no matter what. No feedback, no qualifiers, no...like, y'know, helpful criticism, just 'You're good! You're doing great, keep doing it,' because there will always be people who are telling you, uh, what you can fix, and—and what you can improve, um, and I'm—and I think having a group in my life that is just positivity has been a real bedrock of my progress in this life.

—

Will: My high school theatre program was a really exceptional place, run by, uh, really—really smart, wonderful people, um, who understood theatre as a tool for building community, um, which I thought was really great, uh, because they, um... Y'know, I think there are a lot of programs out there that are about, like, training young people to be professional actors? Um, I think that's really valuable, but it was not the kind of training that I needed or wanted, um, and so I'm sort of glad that I didn't, uh...I didn't have that experience. Oh my god, his name is Jimmy Powers! (Charles: Ah!) No wonder I thought it was Jimmy Armstrong, I was like—and then I went back to City of Angels. I was like, Jimmy Powers. So yeah, that was my—my first role in high school... Um, and then in college, uh, I—I got really lucky, um... Every time I tell my story about, like, how I got here, there's a lot of moments where I say, like, 'Yeah, I was really lucky!' (Charles: [laughs]) Um, I—I reflect on that luck, uh, a lot. Um, and, uh, so, a few weeks into my college experience, um, I had a professor named John Simpkins, who's a director, he runs the program at Penn State now, he's an excellent guy—um, and he brought in, uh, a frequent collaborator of his, uh, who is Joe Iconis. (Charles: Oh...) Who I have since had a very long collaboration with. And I met Joe when I was eighteen years old, y'know, six weeks into my freshman year at college, um, and I immediately fell in love with his music, um, and it was the first time in my life that I started to think about, like, 'Oh...like, when you go see a musical on Broadway...if it's not a revival, then it's a new musical! (Charles: [laughs]) And, like, someone made that musical—like, someone wrote it, and, like, all those actors that are in it, like, they...they were the first people to ever play those roles,' and I—I became immediately very, like, taken with that. Um—I—it really—and I, uh... Most of what I have done in the last ten or twelve years, uh, has been development of new musicals. So I was lucky enough to work on new musicals at NYU, um...and also do some great revivals, we did Violet, uh, we did a show called The Fix, which is, like, a weird mid-'90s Manchurian Candidate musical... Um, uh, what else did we do in college? We did Bat Boy, which is my favorite—a—all-time favorite shows, which is so, so, so great... Um...man, I'm trying to remember my—the college stuff, I have much more vivid memories of the high school shows. But a lot of the college stuff was about, uh, sort of discovering my love for new musicals. And—and—and getting to...try my hand at some development. And then...since graduating, I—I've really—that's really where a lot of my energy has gone.

—

Charles: And, so, before The Black Suits, I believe, was The Bus at 59E59—(Will: Yes!)—and, so, what was that play about, for those who...?

Will: Um, The Bus, uh, which was—which was seen by dozens of people eleven years ago, [laughs] um, uh, The Bus was a play about, uh, two young men growing up in a—a sort of nondescript, uh, Midwestern town; it's not clear if we're in Kansas or Ohio, or—but we're sort of somewhere in the heartland of America, uh, and it is basically a love story, uh, between these two adolescents.... Um, it unfortunately does end tragically, um, but one of the things that was sort of exciting about that production was that, uh, it was produced by, uh, this fella named, um, named Nate Phelps, who is the estranged son of Fred Phelps, who is the Westboro Baptist, uh, minister, so, you know, like, y'know, the—the "God hates F-words," y'know, the—(Charles: Yeah.)—notoriously loud, anti-gay church. Um, so this was produced by this estranged son who escaped from this—this cult, um, and so after we did the show at 59E59, we actually went, uh, to Topeka, uh, and we did a performance in Topeka and a performance in Wichita, um, and we were, you know, picketed by Westboro Baptists, it was very exciting, it felt like, um, it felt like—well, what was very cool was that it felt like it got to be a—a show that sort of blended some political beliefs within the show with some real-deal bonafide activism, uh, at a time when, y'know, I mean, this feels like ancient history now, uh, but like, in, y'know, in 2011, like, gay marriage was not legal in this country, and...y'know, it was—the climate was different, uh, than it is now. And so, uh, it—it felt like we were really sort of, uh...fightin' the good fight. Um, so that—that was a really wonderful experience for me. And for that to be my—my first professional job gave me a real sense of purpose and meaning, uh, in the work that I do, and in the power of my work to effect change in the world.

—

Charles: And so, to go to, um, The Black Suits, I'd love to ask: what is your collaboration like with Joe Iconis, and what makes him such a great collaborator?

Will: Um, my collaboration with Joe is hands-down my favorite artistic endeavor of my entire life. Um, I have never met a writer who understands and is so excited by all the dimensions of me, as an actor and a person; I've also never met, uh, a songwriter whose words and music I find quite as exciting as what Joe writes. I—I think Joe is simply the best musical theatre writer alive, um, that—I know it's a big statement, and—but, y'know, it's just—it's just one man's opinion. Um, I think that—I think that what Joe writes is so human; he is so interested in, uh, like, regular people, and regular experiences; he's so interested in—in portraying—in musicals that allow people to be ugly, and human, and sort of warts and all, uh, and he's interested in, uh, y'know, he always tries to fill his shows with people that look like people you might see on the street, uh, but then they sort of open their mouths and all of a sudden they're these incredibly talented actors and singers and dancers. Um, and I think that his—his fixation and his passion is a love of people, uh, and a love of language, and, uh, I think whenever I get the opportunity to see his work or read his work, um, I'm just so...uh, transported by it. Um, it feels so...relatable, and pedestrian, and normal, but also it feels—the stakes feel huge. It feels like Greek tragedy presented in, y'know, sort of regular, everyday speech.

—

(re: The Black Suits)

Will: What happened, was, uh, y'know, there's the—there's a local paper out there, the L.A. Times, Charles McNulty writes for the Times, uh, he real—he really didn't like the show at all! Um, and he wrote a really bad review, and—y'know, there were a couple, like, at—at the time sort of like, blog reviews were not...as present as they are now? And, y'know, so there was like, the L.A. Times, then there was a bunch of stuff that nobody read. Uh, and the L.A. Times hated it, and all that stuff that nobody read, uh, liked it, um, and so what ended up happening was, y'know, we had a six-week run, and every day it was, y'know, a half to two-thirds full, um, and all of those people had an incredible day at the theater. Um, and—and it was, uh, a really sort of difficult and a valuable learning experience, where I was doing this show that I loved, this role that I loved, uh, y'know, all this stuff was—and we knew it was good, because every night, people would—would lose their minds for this show! They'd leap to their feet for this—this like, weird play about, like, boys in a garage band. Um, and, y'know, and I—it—it was this sort of reminder that this—this industry [laughing] can be incredibly cruel, um, at moments, and, y'know, I sort of came back from that show, and...a—a little bit dejected, and a little bit like, oh, I've spent the last couple years of my life really thinking that this show was gonna take me to the next level, um, y'know, and it—and it did in certain ways, internally and emotionally, um, and it really prepped me for what was coming next in my life, but, uh, y'know, in that—in that time between...y'know, I came back in November of 2013 from doing The Black Suits, and then in the summer of 2014 I started working on Dear Evan Hansen, so it's like a eight-month stretch, where I was, uh, like, really, really bummed out. Um, but I think I was primed in a—in a very good way to walk into the Dear Evan Hansen process and—and really sort of, like, y'know, bring my A-game, and—and—and be grateful for what—what was happening there.

—

(re: Dear Evan Hansen)

Will: But I think what started to happen was, uh, with the group of actors that they had in the room, and with the score that Benj and Justin had written, uh, and the—and the way that Steven Levenson, in being a good writer, was really humanizing all of these people, uh, it became harder and harder to poke fun at them? Uh, and—and as time went on, the show became more interested in...like, what is grief, and what is grieving, and...what needs to be true, and what can occur with sort of false truths, and I—I think the show was really interested in saying, like, how much healing can come from a bad act? And I think that's the main question of the show, and—and I think what we see on stage is that...almost all of the characters in the show, uh, end up better off? Because of this terrible thing that Evan has done? Uh, and—and—and I—I think the show is really fascinated by, like, what—what is the harm there, and what does it mean, and—and—and how d—like, wh—uh, what does truth mean? And what does grief mean? And how do they intersect? And I—I—I think that, uh, that was the sort of biggest change, was the way that it really...embraced the healing that people feel, uh, y'know, when a celebrity dies, and they—and they write a Facebook post about it, like, th—we can sort of make fun of that, y'know, being like, "Y'know—you didn't know that celebrity," but...the parasocial relationship means something to the grieving person. And so they—y'know, Dear Evan Hansen is like, [laughing] what if you had a parasocial relationship with someone you knew, and grieved for them in that way. So, that—that was the big—the big shift.

—

(re: Dear Evan Hansen; Michael Greif)

Will: The way that he led that process, of discovering the soul and humanity of this show, and then putting it onstage in a way that was effective and efficient and—and—and really, like, uh—uh, worked for people. Because I think that...it—nowadays, you're like, "Oh, Dear Evan Hansen, it's a big hit, everybody likes it," but I think when we started doing this show it was not so obvious that this sort of...very funny, but also very touching story about this boy who does this terrible thing after this young man dies, and, it, like—we were sort of like, "Are people gonna go for this? Like, is this gonna work?" It was not, like, an obviously good idea for a musical on paper, um, and I think that, uh, Michael especially was—was the one who...knew which way to take it so that it did work, and so that people did take the ride. Um....dyeah I like him so much. He's also a good friend.

—

Will: It's humbling, and it's strange. It's the kind of thing that you don't, um.... There are many talented, successful actors and theatre makers in this world, who have long, successful careers, and never have the experience like we had on Dear Evan Hansen. It's a very strange, sort of black swan event, um, and...I think that it was, it—it—when things like that happen, it's a sort of unique combination of the show itself, and where the culture is, when the show sort of hits its maximum prominence. So, I think that, like, Dear Evan Hansen arriving on Broadway in the fall of 2016, uh, with sort of where American culture was, and where cultural conversation was, created a really specific moment for this show to sort of thrive and explode. Um, and—and I think that—I think at the end of the day, it's—it's—it's really good, it's like a really well-written, well-made, well-produced show, um, but there lots of those out there that don't hit in the way that Dear Evan Hansen did, and I think it's sort of, um.... I, personally, don't have such an ego as to say that, like, "Well, the reason Dear Evan Hansen is what it is is because it's that much better than other shows"—[laughs] that, y'know, um, and I—and I—I don't think it's that, but I think that there is a sort of zeitgeist, there is a sort of spirit, um, and—and what was sort of strange was...uh, y'know, we opened Dear Evan Hansen on Broadway in the winter of 2016, uh, and so...2017, the first sort of six months of that year leading up to the Tonys was the big...sort of time when it all blew up. That's when the album came out, and that's when I went from having, y'know, four thousand Twitter followers to having sixty thousand Twitter followers, and things like that, y'know, that all happened in, like, a six-month span. And at the same time, that was happening with two other shows. That was happening with Heathers, and that was happening with Be More Chill. Um, and—and it was really fascinating to watch the sort of, uh, way that tastes are made, and—and—and influence sort of organically passes back and forth on the internet. Because a lot—a lot of Dear Evan Hansen's success was within traditional theatre success? It's, like, a—a nice review in the New York Times, a bunch of Tony nominations, like—y'know, very traditional ways to succeed, and—and—and—and become spectacular. But it also, uh, infiltrated all of these, uh—these—it—uh, nontraditional, uh, venues. Which is—social media, uh, and all that stuff—and so it was interesting to see the nontraditional path happen for a few shows at once, while our show was also on the very traditional path, um, to being a hit. Uh, and I think that it—it—it really made me aware of...how the shows that I know about, from, say, twenty years ago, came to me through a very specific filter, of, like, did the New York Times critic like it? Did it do well at the box office that season? Did it win Tony awards? Like, these are very.... The shows that I know about, from the ‘70s and ‘80s and ‘90s, usually had those things happen to them. And it always makes me wonder about, like, what are the other shows out there that I don't know about, that I probably would love, if those people had decided they liked it.

—

Charles: And, so, as an actor yourself, how do you sort of balance the having so many followers on social media from Dear Evan Hansen and from Be More Chill with—with just, like, going about life and all that, and...?

Will: Um...I mean, I'm—I'm lucky in—insofar that I'm not, like, uh, I'm not like, famous-famous? You know what I mean? Like, I'm not, like—I can—I can walk out my door, and... (Charles: [laughs]) I can walk down the street, I'm not—I'm not, like, Beyoncé. [laughing] Um, you know, but, uh—uh—uh, it is—uh, it—it's interesting, with social media, I...uh...I—I'm, uh, I—I'm thirty-three years old, um, and I view, personally, like, everything that is on social media is a performance? Um, I think that individuals posting about their...sandwiches at—at lunch is per—is performance, and the stuff that I put out on my, uh, Twitter and Instagram is also performance, um, and—and I think that, uh, y'know, I'm—I'm a—I'm a pretty private person? Um, y'know, I—folks who've met me at the stage door know that I'm—I'm sort of, like, I dunno, I think sometimes I come off as rude, and I don't mean to, but I just sort of, like, am—I get really overwhelmed, by, uh—y'know, when—especially—especially, like, stagedoors being inside of those barricades, uh— (Charles: Oh, yeah.) Sort of—sort of makes my heart race, and—and—and gives me anxiety, and—and I—I don't, uh, I don't like that experience? I'm grateful for the people who are there, I'm grateful for their support, I'm grateful that they're, y'know, that—that they—that they want to see us, um, but it definitely is, like, com—this specific environment is, like, not for me. Um...and so I—I sort of use—I use social media as a way of sort of performing in that sphere, uh, without, uh...uh, putting myself in bodily—physical harm. (Charles: [laughs]) Um, y'know, 'cause most people are very nice! Y'know, there's a lot of nice people out there, and I have no, like...I have nothing but gratitude, um, y'know, for their support, but at the same time, like, sometimes the ways that it is shown makes me go, like, [mimics hyperventilating inhale/exhale]

—

Will: And I think that Dear Evan Hansen is a—a character study in—in grief, and in sorrow, and in truth, um, and what is true.... I think that Be More Chill is a celebration of all types of diversity; I think it is a celebration of—of different personalities, and different interests, and body types, and races, and cultures, and genders, and neurodivergent folks, and I think that it's like, the show is so, uh, it—it—it—it's.... Be More Chill is not ever telling anyone, like, "I know it's sad now, but don't worry, like, it's gonna get fixed later." (Charles: [laughs]) Be More Chill says, like, "No, this is it. And it's time to celebrate what this is." Um, and I think that the finale of the show especially—I think "Voices In My Head" is the ultimate sort of, like...everyone in the company shares their strange, eccentric truth with one another, while our protagonist acknowledges that, like, "Well, this is my lot in life. [Laughing] Um, and—and I'm gonna choose to celebrate it and choose to meet it with joy and choose to love myself, um, even—even on the hard days." Um, and I think that, uh, all of that is—is only made possible when none of the characters onstage are an archetype or a stereotype or a caricature or a device. They have to be real, complicated people.

—

Will: Making sure that, uh, we had enough moments to check in with Jeremy, our protagonist, and...learn what he's thinking about, and learn why he's doing what he's doing, and—and, uh, y'know, that's one of the things that Dear Evan Hansen does really well, is all of the song moments and all of the conversations with Connor, is, uh, that's when you learn why Evan is doing what he's doing. And so, then, I think that—not, like...nobody was talking about Dear Evan Hansen in the room, but I was sort of reflecting on that at the time, it was like, "Oh, yeah, it's good that the audience be given opportunities to meet our protagonist who is doing dumb things, (Charles: [laughs]) and learn why he's doing these dumb things."

—

Will: It was very important to me that we see him try. I was like, there's a lot of text, uh—in the score, and on the page, where Jeremy sort of complains about how nobody likes him, and how he's so uncool, and nobody understands him, and I was—I—I said to Stephen Brackett, our director, and—and to Joe—the Joes, Joe Tracz and Joe Iconis—I was like, it's so important to me, and I want you to—y'know, help me with this—that the audience see Jeremy attempt to be a part of these social circles and be rejected. Because I think if he doesn't—if we don't see him try and try and try again, then he's just like, kind of a whiner. (Charles: [laughs]) Um...and—and so I think what I—what I did was I sort of did my best to, as we went along, really internalize the way that the other characters onstage were treating me? Um, and then, I—I think...ultimately, the Jeremy that I came to was Jeremy believing all the things that people say to him in the first, y'know, half-hour of the show.

—

Charles: So, Be More Chill and Dear Evan Hansen, of course, as we discussed before, were musicals that had a lot of following on social media and all that, but, um, Dear Evan Hansen was sort of able to run for a lot longer on Broadway, and do you think that was another example of the sort of time thing, or—what do you think that was?

Will: Um... Y'know? I think the, uh, I think the—the tricky thing about, uh, that whole process, uh, was—and, y'know, I was talking before about how, uh, there—there are plenty of good musicals, but maybe they didn't get nice New York Times reviews, or Tony nominations, or—or sell a lot of tickets? Um, I think that, uh, Be More Chill was—was, uh, a moment where certain sort of gates were closed to us? And, y'know, especially by way of, like I said, like, reviews, I mean, uh...the New—the New York Times was not kind. Um, and then I—I had this experience very often, after the show, where I would meet someone, uh, y'know, normally there was a younger person, a person in their teens or twenties, they were accompanied by an adult who I perceived to be in their forties, fifties, sixties, um, and the adult would say to me, 'Oh, y'know, I really didn't think I was gonna like this, (Charles: [laughs]) I didn't think it was for me, but I had a great time!' And I would sort of ask them, as politely as I could, like, 'Why didn't you think this was for you?' Um, and—and a lot of times they would say, like, 'Oh, well, I—I read in the Times that it was for kids,' and...I—I was sort of, like, 'Well...we don't think it's for kids, and, y'know, tell your friends.' Um, and I think that, y'know, it—it was—it was a really interesting, uh, y'know, and—and then the—the Tony nominations came around and—and it sort of felt, uh, y'know, kind of cruel, the ways in which the show was not acknowledged, and it sort of felt like, uh, a small group of people, at a few moments, had really sort of, uh, acted to, uh, sort of counter the love of a very large group of people. Y'know, we had, like, hundreds of thousands of fans online whose support, uh, y'know, made this show happen, and they showed up at the theater, I mean, every night they were screaming, it was like a rock concert. Um, and...y'know, it—but, unfortunately, we weren't able to get over these sort of, uh, gates that were—that were set up for us. Um, and so I think that's what ultimately led to—I mean, y'know, the show closed because it—didn't—I—Broadway shows close because they don't sell enough tickets. (Charles: [laughs]) That's the, like, beginning, middle, and end of it, and at the end of the day, like, we were discounting too many tickets to remain open financially, and I think a lot of that had to do with, uh, y'know, the—the sort of, uh...headwinds that came at us from within the industry.

[gontagokuhara]

haters will say its fake

[eury--dice]

inquiring about friendship (deh) 🤲🏻

ooh, so this was basically borne from me wanting to explore zoe and jared's dynamics and have them have a little bit of a rivalry-to-friends pipeline. the basic concept was zoe and evan begin dating but jared is nervous, as evan's closest friend, and he and zoe develop something of a contentious relationship, but over time they become friends and gain a sibling-like bond. it was meant to be a goofy, fun lil dynamics exploration but for some reason I never ended up getting quite past the beginning stages of the fic. anyway here's a little bit of it that, though I never posted it, ended up being the basis for some of my other jared and evan interactions over other fics <3

It’s not like Jared doesn’t know Zoe at all; they were in jazz band together in middle school, so they’re not exactly strangers. Shared trauma, after all; they’re practically soulmates, according to Murray Bauman. 

Except for the fact that he’s gay, and somewhat closeted, and his best friend’s been in love with her for forever, and she...apparently reciprocates. So that’s out of the question. 

“Yes, that Zoe,” Evan says, and even with the disdain in his voice Jared can hear the distinct tone it’s taken. Evan only sounds like that when he’s talking about Zoe -- slightly breathless, a fair amount of whimsy and affection swirling in it. “This Friday. We’re going out to dinner after her concert.” “Romantic,” Jared drawls. 

Evan either ignores or misses his blatant sarcasm. “I really hope she likes the place. It’s the little diner near school, you know? The Deer, or something. We skipped lunch to go there last year.”

Jared pauses for a moment, thinking back to the year before. He smiles. “Decent reuben. I approve. Not sure if it’s the best place to do your wooing-”

“Wooing?-“

“-but good for a nice post-school concert ‘what are we even doing here?’ existential crisis.” He hears a sharp intake of breath on the other line. “Sorry, wrong thing to say. Not what you were going for?”

“No. Not really.”

Oh no. He does not like how uneven Evan’s voice sounds. “Zoe’s chill. It seems like her type of place. I’m sure it’ll be fine, bro.”

Evan ignores the very cringey-placed ‘bro.’ “Maybe. Maybe I should just, maybe I should change it?”

“No, oh my God, Evan, you’re fine. Trust me. She’s not expecting a five-star Italian restaurant.”

“I guess,” Evan says, voice muted, and he can practically see him in his mind; lip quirking and free hand worrying the hem of his shirt. “I just. I really want it to go well. I don’t want to screw it up. I don’t, I don’t even know why she agreed to go on a date with me. Or, well. It was mutual, I guess, but. I don’t know why.”

Jared would never say it out loud, but honestly, he’s not quite sure why either. Even though Zoe is arguably the nicest person he’s ever met, and she’s not exactly the most popular person in their class (hello, jazz band reputation!) she still lies about six tiers above him and Evan on the food chain of cutthroat high school popularity. And, he loves the guy to death, but he’s not exactly an easy conversationalist most of the time, especially when he’s flustered. (Which is all of the time around Zoe.)

“Dude,” he says, shoving all of those thoughts aside, stepping into his lightly worn Supportive Best Friend shoes. “It’ll be fine. Zoe clearly likes you-I mean, she’s nice, but she’s not the type to agree to dates she doesn’t want to go on because she feels bad for you. And, hell, she’s clearly enamoured with your normal stutter-and-apologize song and dance, so you’re all set.” Evan laughs weakly. “Seriously, Ev. It’ll be good. Chin up, man. You’re going on a date with Zoe Murphy! Sophomore Evan is losing his goddamn mind.”

“Yeah,” Evan half whispers, getting all Zoe again. “He is.”

[lunas-musical-theatre-stuff]

Connor: *dies*

Zoe: this is so sad alexa play requiem

[handsome-kakigori]

[IchiRuki: Kesempatan dalam Kesempitan]

The joke doesn’t work in English >:(

The mistake isn’t on my part, it’s on whoever created English smh smh, how dare they—

“Kesempatan dalam kesempitan” roughly translates to “taking chances in small openings”

“idih sinting” translates closer to “ugh insane” but it doesn’t have the same oomph so i changed it to “mf” lmao

In Indonesian “cium deh” can mean “smell (it)” or “kiss (it/me)”. The subject/object (me, it, this, that) doesn’t need to be mentioned so if you wanna be a menace like Ichigo you can interpet it however you want.

The “deh” part isn’t important it’s something that doesn’t have a meaning by itself, like “lah”, but it adds mood(?)/intonation(?) idk “cium deh”, “cium dong”, and “cium lah” is different even tho it’s the same in translation— “cium deh” feels like “hey come on try and smell this”, “cium lah” feels like “aw come on smell this/kiss me”, and “cium dong” feels like “pls kiss me” wkwkwk why am i rambling about this

[crsentfairy]

Maudeley Sonia Fraiser! 🌿

another Simblr Office employee on the house! (+ info below)

her name is pronounced Mah-deh-le-yee. (kinda like Andele with an extra -y)

she's a libra! (oct 19)

maudeley is haitian-canadian!

she works in the marketing & advertisement branch!

her experience with being a social media influencer prior to her current job was made very useful in successfully aiding the launch of simblr office on multiple social media platforms

her half-naked beach photos from 5 years ago resurface and go viral at least once every three months

before being shortly transferred to marketing, maudeley had done customer service. she hung up on rude clients' faces. every time. it was bad for business

only family and close friends are allowed to call her sonia or sony.

almost all of her co-workers have copied her slang/lingo at least once

she is a terrible influence. she is always teaching her non-haitian coworkers how to say cuss words in kreyole

maudeley is always sending mixed signals to all of her male co-workers, and even flirts with the security guards for fun. she does not speak to any of them outside of work hours, however.

her and heaven are work partners-in-crime and they would sneak to each other's department to just gossip and do fuck all.

[rwuffles]

☕️ ❛ depressiboy！ ⚣ deh-press-eh-boy / deh-press-ee-boy

pt: depressiboy. deh-press-eh-boy/deh-press-ee-boy. end pt.

︵︵﹒definition ｜ when one's gender is severely affected by their depression , however , is distinctly a boy in some way. it may be related to / affected by one's coping mechanisms , exhaustion , boredness , apathy , or whatever other symptoms / things that one's depression has caused for them. this is exclusive to those with depressive disorders & is not meant to glorify having depression — simply to describe an experience some with the disorder may have.

pt: definition, when one's gender is severely affected by their depression, however, is distinctly a boy in some way. it may be related to/affected by one's coping mechanisms, exhaustion, boredness, apathy, or whatever other symptoms/things that one's depression has caused for them. this is exclusive to those with depressive disorders and is not meant to glorify having depression—simply to describe an experience some with the disorder may have. end pt.

☕️ ❛ tags！ ⚣ @kagamine-twinz @pawfuu

[prettymrswright]

Lockdown.

pairing: koffee!singer x black!fem choreographer/artist

content: fluff, barely angst, innuendos, a lot of patois (Koffee is from Spanish Town, she has a strong JA accent), mentions of God/spirituality, artistry, choreography, flashbacks.

background: you had been spending quite a lot of time with the reggae artist after meeting her at a Reggae Fest a few months back. as time went by, the two of you grew closer, but in attempt to keep up your guard and protect yourself, you pulled back. the artist didn’t like that too much, and def used she would double down on her interest. she wasn’t letting you go that easy.

a/n: to this day, there are not Koffee fics to be found so guess who’s here to change that like the manifestor human design that I am?? ME! i unintentionally made this character almost identical to me.. by accident. there are so many things about y/n in this book that is my true life story lmaooo.

I’m gone try to insert some translations here and there, even though patois is still english, I know some things are harder to comprehend. But it’s important I insert it because 1, it’s sexy and 2, I like to maintain accuracy. hope unnu like it. <3

translations:

deh - there

yah - here

nuff - a lot, plenty

dung - down

guh - go

unnu - you (plural, like you guys/ y’all)

dem - plural, noun (i.e friend dem (friends) )

pan/pon - on

guh - go

suh - so or how (A suh you feel? That’s how you feel?)

dolly - slang for attractive girl/woman

taglist: @dejaonline @saintwrld @inmyheadimobsessed @venusdraco @vampzxi @msplayas @abenomeiiii @vixentheplanet @pinkwright @verachii @shuriszn @shurislover @sapphicvqmpires @ventingfanfics

if you wanna be apart of my taglist, apply through the link pinned to my page!

If you wan to opt out, or only want to be tagged for someone specifically, those are also options!

LOCKDOWN PART 2!

"Okay sexy!" Your friend and fellow artist, Sabirah-Amani paraded your ear with praises and hype as you checked yourself out in your hotel mirror. You had been working for the past few months, project after project, and although you were grateful, you were two hops and a skip away from burnout. Between choreographing for artists and late nights in the studio in hopes of being your own artist, you hadn't much left to give. You were very clearly overextending yourself in all areas. You were ambitious and focused, precise about your work; You're an artist, and you were sensitive about your shit! However, you were beginning to neglect yourself emotionally and spiritually. You and Sabi came to the mutual decision that a vacation was much needed. The two of you spent the week catching appointments, pampering and refreshing your appearance. You give a small giggle before looking at her briefly and mimicking a hair-flipping motion. "Look you," She continues in her trini-yunese accent. "In short ting. All yuh collarbone outside." The two of you erupted in laughter. "And all of Jamaica will continue to see my collarbone, okay?" you responded, still laughing. Ochi was so beautiful. It was full of sights and bashments and raves and just beautiful people having a beautiful time. For a reason unbeknownst to you, everything out of Jamaica just resonated with you and held your heart so deeply. It had been your first morning in JA, and as expected, the sun was blazing. The bright sun and tropical breeze shone through your plexiglass balcony doors. You and Sabi were going to get breakfast as well as check out the rest of the hotel. A cocoa-beige brown triangle bikini set hugged your body, overlapped with a long, knitted skirt of the same color. A white, knitted long-sleeved cropped coverup laid baggy over your toned arms. Your feet rested in some rhinestone encrusted strap sandals. Your hair was braided in cornrows falling right above the dip in your lower back , swirl designs in every direction. It was entirely too hot for a full beat, so your fresh lash set was holding you down. "You ready to go?" You asked. "Let's do it. " Sabi replied, and with that, you were out of the room and off to the lobby.

After getting off the elevator, the two of you walked through the lobby to reach where you would be having breakfast at. After filling up your plates at the buffet, you took a seat in the far corner of the restaurant, a clear view of the beach across from you. "I know we just got here and everything but," Sabi started. "I kinda wanna jump into the vibes tonight." "Um absolutely, that was the plan from jump," You say in sort of a 'duh' tone. "But I know you need your rest. You know, some unwinding time." She says concerningly. Sabi was always looking out for you in that way, it was one of her greatest assets as a friend. "Girl, mi neva come a Jamaica fi lie dung. I got another week and a half to rest!" You say in a comedic way, but you meant it. You were already starting to feel better being in a newer and fresher feeling environment. Rest would come, but right now? Vibes. "Okay, okay!" Sabi laughed in a hearty manner. "Yo you and this Patois accent, knowing you not even Jamaican is frying me." You playfully rolled your eyes. It was true. You were in love with all things of different cultures, so each one you immersed yourself in, you began to pick up. Growing up in NY, all you were around were Caribbean people, so it wasn't out of the ordinary for you. "Speaking of Jamaicans," Sabi began, and somehow, you knew what direction this was going in. "When's the last time you spoke to Mikayla?" "Who?" You lie, lazily spooning through your bowl of porridge. "Mikaylaaaa, Mikayla, Koffee, Big bad reggae artist from Spaintown, Jamaica, your woman--" She goes into a rampage and you cut her off. "Alrightttt, alright, alright. I get it" You rush her to end her tangent, hoping no one around you guys heard. "I don't know.. March?" You say, voice dying down at the end in cowardice. "MARCH?" Sabi's draw drops. "Y/N..it's June." A guilty expression washed over you. "I know, Sabi." "Why you duckin' her?" Sabi cocks up her left eyebrow and leans forward, curious to hear your answer. "I--" You drop your utensil in audacity. "Why you assume it was me?" "Girl, please okay. She was on your ass like back pockets at that Roc Nation Brunch. We both know you're Miss Ghost Town." Sabi says reading you for filth, pulling an accidental laugh out of you.

“I mean, she’s a big artist, she could have anyone she wants.” You shrug. “Her not hearing from me is barely putting a dent in her life plans.”

The truth was, prior to your disappearance, you two were becoming closer by the minute. You really liked Koffee. And with that, your body began to do that thing that it does when you’re about to be fully consumed by that feeling of infatuation. It wasn’t so much the idea of a relationship that you were scared of, but more-so of the uncertainty of its stability. Koffee was now an international artist, who meets thousands of people every day. You knew how it was in the industry, you were in it. It was one thing to really like someone, but to like someone in the entertainment industry was like setting yourself up for heartbreak. And you had entirely too much on your plate to go through that shit again.

“Who reached out last?” She asks.

“.. Her.” You say in a “so” type of tone.

“Mm.” She responds, strategically setting up her “aha” statement. “And who gave who an unlimited backstage pass for all her shows, in ANY city?”

“…her.” your defeated responses began to get smaller.

“And who—“ you cut her off, in attempts to stop the physically pain of her being right.

“Okay, okay, damn,” you laugh. “But you know how that shit go, Sav. One minute she thinks she wanna be with me and the next, she’s in some European country, with who knows, doing God knows what.”

“Uh, uh.” She says in disapproval. “Now you know she ain’t hunching with no white women.”

You burst into laughter. She could always tie something together comedically while simultaneously giving you the real.

“It don’t hurt to just say wassup, Y/N/N. I mean besides, when’s the last time you had any ‘fun’. Let loose a lil. If anyone needs to, it’s you.” Sab says, voice full of concern, but direction.

You looked off outside the window, pondering on her message. You missed her dearly. Who were you trying to fool? I mean maybe you were a little harsh. She didn't really give you any reason to be. Sure you'd seen some photo ops with her and other female artists, but that was her job. You didn't like the feeling it gave you though. When you look back towards Sabirah and her now empty plate, she was smiling at her phone. "And who exactly got you smiling like that?" You ask, now shining the figurative spotlight on her. "Oh it's nobody for real," She waved off. "Nobody huh," You chuckle. "What nobody say?" "Well actually, Nobody is gonna be at this party tonight that I planned on dragging you too." "Party?" You say frowning. "With all these white folks? Since when you wanna go to a resort party." "Oh girl, be so for real," She says scoffing. "My cousin JJ and his girlfriend are here at her family house, and they're throwing a bashment, off the resort." Your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. You were actually ecstatic to be getting into some real vibes off the resort. I mean, truly you had no real complaints, after all, you were in Jamaica. But country had the homegrown, feel good energy you were dying to be around. It was more authentic. "See now, that's what I'm talking about!" The two of you embraced in a dap across the table. "How we getting there?" "You ever been on a dirt bike before?" Sabi asks sincerely, yet you think she's joking. "What?!" ꨄ︎ Night begins to fall and as you and Sabi make your way out of the resort, a warm breeze surrounds your body. You two are greeted by JJ and his friend, Dwayne, and hop on the back of their blue and green dirt bikes. You wrap your arms around Dwayne's torso, tightly shut your eyes, say a small prayer and with a loud rev, you pull off into the rocky roads. When you finally gain to courage to open your eyes, you're blown away by how beautiful the scenery was. The hue of the sunset was mixed with orange, pink and purple, and tall trees took space along the sides of the open road. Each refreshing breath you took smelled like rain-bathed plants, summer and adventure. As a result of the fast-paced vehicle moving swifter and in the opposite direction of breeze flow, your braids flew past you forwardly. You couldn't help but to smile, in awe of all the beauty around you. "Woooo! JAMAICA WE REACH!" Sabi yells, cheers carrying across the sky, 80-mph. You beamed at her enthusiasm. Truth be told, you were just as excited. 20 minutes later, you pull into a backyard seemingly as big as 1/3 of the island. You were nowhere near the DJ booth, but you could feel the bass bumping through your entire body. If it weren't for the spacious area, you'd be packed like sardines. Everybody from the parish you were in were in attendance. Men dressed in their straight jeans, belts and button downs, marinas and cut-up shorts; most with spliffs in hand. Women in their mesh top and shorts, mini skirts, mini dresses, heels and bamboos, nails done and hair laid to the gods. This definitely wasn't the event to come looking regular. The aroma of seasonings and a burning grill slithered through your nose canal, causing you to avert your attention behind you, where hot plates of food and alcoholic drinks were being given out to the people in the line. It was definitely a vibe. "Ayeee allyuh mek it!" Sabi's cousin JJ comes and greets us both with a hug. "I saved two plates for y'all, cuz if it was any later, you'd be chewing your lip." You all erupt in laughter. "Omg J," you began. "You're the literal best because I am starving." "No sweat," JJ throws his hands up, emphasizing the 'no big deal.' "Your plates are in the fridge in the kitchen. Shelly's mom is holding it down, so you don't gotta worry about nobody theifing it." "Thanks Knucklehead," Sabi pinches his ear.

"Ouch! Remind me, I ent doing anyting nice fa yuh no more, yuh could starve!" JJ says to Sabi, rubbing his pinched ear.

"yUh couLd sTarVE!" Sabi mocks him. The two of them couldn't get along for more than 5 minutes, but it was always love behind their quarrel.

"Well look at you twooo!" JJ's girlfriend, Shelley approaches you with beaming smiles and open arms.

"Hot gyal Shells!" Sabi starts. "It's been a long time."

"Naa tell no lie! When JJ told me you two were visiting a resort so close by, I had to pull you for at least one night." Shelley says holding both you and Sabi's hands individually.

"Your home is beautiful Shells." You sincerely confess. "Thank you for the invite. Look at the turnout! You doing your big one."

"Thank you, babydoll. You know you're welcome absolutely any time. And I gotta put my ex party-promoting skills to some use!" Shelley replies.

Shelley threw crazy parties back in the day. She always was hosting, and was sure to not only bring in a crowd, but a GOOD one. Amongst many talents, she had the gift of gab for sure. She also always had artists in her venues. From Spice to Konshens, Shenseea to Aidonia. Everyone knew Shelley.

"I know that's right. Besides, I was getting tired of the resort food." Sabi says honestly, making us chuckle. The food was still good, but definitely a watered down version.

"Well!" Shelley clasps her hands together. "Dolly nuh come a party fi hug up pan wall. Unnu guh dance!"

"Don't nobody wanna dance with Paula the Preying Mantis." JJ teases Sabi, bending his arms up like the insect.

"Shut up, JJ!" Sabi says, giving his shoulder a hard nudge.

"Leave Sabi alone." Shelley follows up with a back-handed slap over his other shoulder. "I ain't wanna dance with you when we met. I just felt bad."

"Ohhhhhhh..." You and Sabi both say simultaneously, gagged by the way she just read him.

"Now why you had to go there? You ain't ha-" JJ began and Shelley cooed, half consoling him, half mocking. You and Sabi laugh your way all the way to the middle of the backyard, where the bulk of the party was.

You took in the scene around you and allowed yourself to get lost in the music. Sean Paul & Sasha’s I’m Still In Love with You is pouring out of the speakers and into your ears, filling you with nostalgia. You begin to rock side to side and slow whine your hips. It was definitely a bittersweet feeling. This was one of the songs you danced to at Reggae Music Fest with— her. You missed her. But she could’ve reached out right? You know, besides the 3 times she did already, that you were seemingly to busy for? That didn’t mean give up!

You and Sabi spun each other around and shared some whines and some laughs. You truly felt at peace for the first time in such a long time. You broke away for Sabi for one minute, and the next, she had a new dancing partner. You smiled at the interaction, and before you could really take it in, somebody approached you to dance with you as well.

“Excuse me likkle miss,” A tall, brownskin man with locs down his back approached you with a smooth, but respectful hand on your waist. “Beg yuh a dance nuh?” He smiled, showing off his fanged teeth.

He wanted to dance. Why not? You were out there to enjoy yourself. And at least you know the two of you could dance and that be it. It’s not like he was your type anyway— (obviously). What was truly the harm?

You gave him a smile, accepting his request & began to dance with him. Long before you knew it, you were dancing to another song with him. The man knew how to move. And he smelled phenomenal. Your moment was disturbed, however, when you began to notice two men in the far, right corner of the yard staring at you. And not in the admiring way; it was almost as if they were discussing you. Like they knew you from somewhere. The guy obviously felt it too.

“Yuh know dem from someweh?” He asks, semi-concerned. You just gave him a confused head shake, no.

“Yow yow yow, people, if yuh a enjoy yuhself tonight, mek some bloodclat noiseee!” The dj scratched and lowered the track to speak, and the crowd erupted.

“Outside nice, man. Good weather, sexy ladies, hot tunes. If a Jamaica yuh come from and yuh proud of it, buss a blank!” He continues.

Gun finger emotes fill the sky, followed by mimicked gunshot noises.

“This next song yah is fi all a di people dem weh love the Caribbean.”

Soon as the song begins, you feel your heart drop to your stomach and you’re adrenaline begin to rush.

Balenciaga 'pon me structure

Who them talk, push get the duck yah

I-i-i-io!

Everybody begins to cheer and holler to the feel good song.

It was West Indies.

West Indies was your favorite song by Koffee. It was such a feel good song, and you were there while she was constructing it. You knew it was close to her heart. She had even asked for your input. You encouraged her to push it out and make it a single. You knew the people would love it just as much as you did. And they did.

You felt yourself begin to get emotional, but you stopped the tears from advancing their welled-up position behind your lower lids. You migrated away from the main section, simply to avoid being asked to dance again. Not to this song. Too personal.

Sabi found you in the crowd and shot you a look of sympathy. “You okay?” she mouthed. You gave a closed lip smile and nodded. You decided to go get a drink and take some edge of. As bothered as you were, you still loved the song.

“One rum and pineapple, please.” You ask tell the lady serving drinks. You know you don’t have to pay anything, but you slip her a $10 anyway.

The mixed beverage slides down your throat and coaxes your nerves and you begin to let loose.

Coming from the West Indies

And you know say we giving them the best indeed

Anyweh we deh, we do a flex 'pon street

And the stylе weh we do no moderatе stampede

As you sway back and forth, cup in hand, approaching tipsy, you see a group of girls walking by, double-taking your face and your frame. They then begin whispering. All you could make out was “Koffee” and “Girl”.

Alright. What the fuck was going on?

You tried your hardest to ignore it, returning to your state of groove. As the chorus began to approach, the dj lowered the music once again.

“Alright everybody, mek some noise and big up Koffee!!!”

You froze. Immediately. Ironically when all you wanted to do was melt into the ground.

She was here. Of course she was.

And there she stood. In her black tank, showing between her opened and collared olive green button down, with olive green straight pants to match. She stood in black clarks. Her toffee brown skin being complimented by gold chains and gold bangles. Her medium-long locs held back in a hair tie in a loose bun.

Damn. She always looked good. But she would be looking her absolute best when you’ve been semi-dodging her.

If you know me, I'm having the time of my life

Don't you slow me down, beg you pardon me

I wanna just party (yeah)

I wanna just, I wanna just

I wanna just party (yeah)

I wanna just party, yeah

She walked back and forth the backyard stage, she captured the entire audience and held them hostage with her stage presence. If you weren’t in such a state of shock, you’d be in awe too. She was alluring in that way.

Sabi looked back at you from the crowd with wide, just-as-shocked-as-you-are eyes. Koffee spotted her and followed her gaze, making eye contact with you. There she stood, taking you in. Almost immediately, she gives you a warm expression with soft eyes and a wide smile, showing off her braces. A couple people looked back to see who or what she was looking at; others continued to vibe.

Instantly you felt your body heat up, and you failed an attempted fight not to smile back. You missed her, and she looked great, but you couldn’t help but feel guilty for letting so much time go by. However, something was telling you that she wasn’t phased very much. Seeing her up there in her element, you couldn't help but to think back to when the two of you first met at Reggaefest. She had been on the rise, heavy in the media, and the crowd was absolutely losing it. She had amazing stage presence. She wasn't too harmful on the eyes either. She went right after Lila Ike, who's dancers you choreographed. Koffee and her dancers walked up to the end of the stage and took a collaborated bow, hand in hand. Thank you Reggae Sumfest! You sat sideline, watching in awe. Her set was amazing.

Not to mention she wasn’t too hard on the eyes either. She had on a pair of light blue shorts, accented with white lines, a plain white tee, a blue fitted and AF1’s that looked like she bought them right before this set. Neck and wrists laced with that Caribbean gold. Her skin was glowing and glistening, sweat parading the circumference of it. Her locs were out, falling and standing right beneath her shoulders. With her team following, she walked and exited stage right, where you had been standing. She looked at you, and your rose your hands to clap for the artist, giving a closed-lip smile. She stopped in front of you gave you a small bow and a smile, appreciating your acknowledgement. You killed it, are you kidding?

A dat yuh seh?! She exclaims and smiles brightly. Respect, respect mama, thank you. Her speaking voice was just astonishing as her singing voice. The accent wasn’t making it any better either. What's your name? Y/N. She hummed at the sound of your name and repeats it. Y/N. I saw you and your dancers dem inna Lila's rehearsal. You have nuff talent. I'm a fan honestly. You scoffed in disbelief, shrugging off the compliment. Oh please. If any one should be a fan, it's me. Well I'd love if you came by one of the rehearsals. Y-you want me to choreograph? Absolutely. She stood trying to read your expression. Not sure if you were happy about the idea. I mean if yuh nuh want to, yuh nuh have to-- No I'd love to. Cool. She smiled brightly. Gimmi yuh numba and mi wi sen yuh all e details dem. If that's ok with you, of course. Yes of course. She takes out her phone and you type in your information. "Y/N." It was nice meeting you officially, Koffee. You can call me Mikayla. The pretty girls nuh have to call me by fi mi stage name. She throws you and wink and walks off to meet back up with her crew. If you weren't a professional at work and if you didn't have any morals, your clothes would be off. You felt your cheeks warm-up and you began to smile against your will. Not knowing this job opportunity would lead into a far more deeper connection.

You came back to reality, visited with a bittersweet feeling of a fond but seemingly distant memory. How did you get here?

She performed a few more songs before making her way off stage to navigate through the crowd and do her rounds with all her people. Panicked seized you as you ran to grab your friend.

“We gotta go, neowwww” You grab Sabi’s arm and begin tugging her away from whoever she had been dancing with and towards the direction you so desperately wanted to go in.

“N-now? But we just got here!” She replies in a semi-whiney tone. You in fact had been there for a couple of hours.

“Yes now— JJ! You ready?” You ask him.

“You ready to go?” He whisper-mouths. You nod & he takes a small sip of his red-stripe beer, taps his friends next to him and off you guys were.

As the two of you approached the resort again, a feeling of relief washed over you. You were somewhat disappointed that you let your anxiety take over you, but at least you left before you were confronted. And you knew you would be.

You hug the boys and thank them before walking in and heading up to your room.

“That party was active, wasn’t it Sab?” you say, walking in, somewhat telling the truth. somewhat deflecting.

“Yeah, until you busted it, party pooper.”

You drop your jaw and gasp, fake taken aback as if you didn’t know what she was referring to. “Whaaat? me? What did I do?”

“wHaT dId i Do!?” she mocked you. “You chickened out on the vibes cuz your girlfriend came and you dodging her.”

“I did not! And she is not my girlfriend.” You start picking things up around y’all room and tidying up, needing something to focus you.

“Nah, Y/N/N, you on some wack shit right now, I won’t even front.”

She wasn’t wrong. If she did want to talk, what was the harm? She didn’t even do anything to you. But what if she hated you? And now you made it even worse, because she SAW you and you ran. She probably thinks you’re dodging her. But aren’t you? You desperately wished you would get it together.

“I mean what was I supposed to do?” You turned to face her.

“I don’t know, maybe talk to her? I mean what you think she gone say, marry me?” She semi-chuckled.

“K likes you, a lot. I can tell. And I think she’d be really good for you. But you gotta believe that you deserve it. Don’t let your overthinking cause her to slip out of your hands.”

You chewed at your bottom lip in thought, pondering on all of the different ways the night could’ve went. You always did this. Self-sabotage, and then beat yourself up over it. It was starting to get old, even for you.

“Imma let you sit with that. I’ll be back, I’mma hit the bar down in the lobby. Get me another lil drinky-drink, okayyy!” She says grabbing her things and you playfully roll your eyes.

“What? Okay don’t look at me like that, your night is over, not mine!” You give a hefty laugh, and slightly nudge her. You do your signature handshake, and she’s off.

Quickly after she unlocks the door with her key and runs back in.

“Almost forgot my hand fan. You know that liquor coat get serious. K bye love you!” And she’s out again. You laugh to yourself. That girl could drink.

You continue tidying up, even though there’s not much to tidy. But any form of cleaning/organizing grounded you, and now in this moment, you needed nothing more but to be grounded.

You were on your way to sit down when there was a subtle knock at your door. Leave it to Sabi to have forgotten something.

You walked up to the door, unlocked it, and began opening it. “What’d you forget this time S—“

Startled, you jump at the sight of who was actually standing before you.

“M-Mikayla?”

“Oh, so you do know who I am?” She says tauntingly, letting herself in. You close the door behind her, eyes following her movements, still in shock.

“I was starting to think seh yuh did forget about me eno?” And she flashes that smile again.

“How did you find me?” You ask sincerely, feeling sort of turned-on, not that you would admit it.

“The gyal who Sabi cousin deh wid told me you’d be here.” Shelley. I should’ve known. It was no coincidence that out of all people, Koffee would be performing there when I was. It started to click. This was a collaborative effort from Sabi and Shelley.

You gave an exhausted sigh as you prepared to plead your innocence. “Look, K, I didn’t mean to run off how I did I j—“

“Oh so you weren’t dodging me then?” She pries, stepping closer to you, waiting to see if you’d lie.

“I-i mean, no. Well, not on purpose.” You half tell the truth. She wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

“Oh suh yuh dweet fi accident?” She gives a sarcastic laugh. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, and for once, you wish it was from sunburn and not your own shame.

“I just thought..” You paused, debated telling her the truth or not. Awaiting your answer, she folds her arms across her chest and raises her eyebrows.

You decided to give in. She went through all this trouble.

“I don’t know, I ain’t really think you’d be checking for me like that. You know, with everything you got going on.”

Sheepishly, you looked down at your feet, fidgeting with your bracelet, ironically, the one she brought back for you on your second date. She looks down at it, giving a small, satisfied smirk, thankfully feeling not totally closed off from you like she almost thought.

“A mi tell yuh dat?”

You shook your head no.

“So you assumed,” She began. “I mean which part mek yuh feel like seh I wasn’t ‘checking’ for you?” She lightly mocked. “The repeated calls, or the double-triple texts?”

You chuckled bitterly at her sarcasm, and also at the fact that you couldn’t pin her to be wrong.

“If yuh nuh interested anymore,—“ She began and you couldn’t stomach her even continuing that thought.

“No, no.” You quickly interrupted her. You gave a heap of sigh before you would began to be totally honest with both her and yourself at the same time.

“I like you. I really fucking like you. And that’s the problem. You’re charming, you’re charismatic.. you fine…” you say trailing off that last part, making her laugh heartily.

“You have such a big heart. And if I, as the tough cookie and critic that I am can fall for you, I know girls all around the world are. I’d be lying if I said the thought of that didn’t make me ragingly jealous, but I also like you so much, that I don’t wanna deprive you of that opportunity. There could be someone far better for you out there. You could meet her tomorrow, hell, you could’ve met her already. See i’m all over the place and I—“

“Y/N.” She gently grabs your elbow and gives it a tug to bring you closer. “I appreciate your interest in my well-being. But mi neva ask yuh fi do dat, baby.”

“I chose you fi a reason. If mi really felt like seh a somebody better out deh fi mi, mi woulda neva run down yuh phone.” You laugh at her comedic delivery.

“I’m not perfect, but when mi love somebody mi love deep. A you mi want, and I knew that then and I know that now. All mi ask of you is to put it a likkle effort.”

She raises her hand to wipe the couple of tears that began to fall from your eyes. When you finally looked up at her, all you could do was nod. Nobody had ever went these lengths to show you that they cared before, and it meant so much that the person who was doing so was someone you considered your best friend. Mikayla knew you like the back of her hand. She could pull you out of any mood and place you in a better one, no matter the circumstance. And right now in this moment you felt so safe and so seen. And all you could think about was how silly you had been acting, and how silly it would be to let her go.

“Don’t cry baby.” She pulled you close to her and held you tight.

“I-i’m sorry for n-not answering you I—“ You let your vulnerability take over, and she consoled you before you could even get it out.

“Yuh nuh have to explain to me. Just mind yuh nuh pull away from me like that again, y’hear?” She pulls your chin up to her, switching her gaze between both of your eyes.

You lean into her and the two of you share a kiss. A pair of lips you have been longing to feel and haven’t felt in months. Instantly you felt a rush of emotions, all of which you felt when the two of you first met.

“Cuz mi need. All. of dis. yah love yah.” She repeatedly pecked you between each fragment, making you giggle into her lips.

“Okaaay, okay!” You say fake fighting her off. Truthfully you couldn’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be. You wrapped your arms around her neck and hoisted yourself up, locking your legs around her waist. You missed this feeling. You missed her. But you don’t know peace. Not yet.

“.. So who was that girl on stage who was tryna dance with you?” You playfully start an argument.

“Oh nuh start yuh fuckry, Y/N please.” She laughs and carries you out to the next room. And the two of you fall into each other all over again.

[boba-beom]

ᥫ᭡⋆｡˚⊹  I Like U (sorry, I never meant to) | part 1 — 'don't drop her!'

pairing: beomgyu x gn!reader

genre: fluff, romance | non-idol au, strangers to friends to ???

synopsis: after meeting one of your best friend’s friends, you initially found him attractive and thought he’d be a careless crush that would soon dissipate into nothing. that is, until a series of events proved you wrong and perhaps those feelings lingered longer than they should have. would something become of it?

warning(s): slice of life, slow burn(ish), mentions of food, physical affection, bickering, more mentions of star signs, I will try my best to make it as gender neutral as possible as some parts are based off from my perspective. if there's anything I've missed, let me know!

wc: 3.2k

a/n: this celebration I am referring to is very big in the filipino culture. it's called a philippine 'debut' (deh-boo). it's to celebrate one who is coming of age, entering adulthood as a young woman.

prev || masterlist || next

5 months have passed since your first interaction with Beomgyu. however, it was not the last time you had interacted. after you accepted his follow request and followed him back on instagram, you've been going back and forth liking each other's stories, recommending songs and sharing playlists with each other after you found out he also listens to the same niche artist as you. you may have overreacted, but none of your friends knew the artist until you saw his story with your favourite song posted to it.

to think that this happened over the course of the summer vacation, you were almost unfazed that you would be meeting him again for Tara's birthday. almost. you were extremely excited to visit the island again, after discussing Tara's 18th birthday celebrations, along with receiving her invitations through the post. you told yourself that all thoughts unrelated to Tara's birthday were to be pushed to the back of your head, making sure that this was going to be unforgettable and you wanted to prioritise that.

Tara has always been one to be interested in star-gazing, knowing things about star signs; whether she can guess people's star signs based off of their personality traits, or even upon first or second meeting.

you recall the facetime call you had with your best friend just a couple of days before your trip to the island. she had asked a huge favour from you — which was to help with the decorations. after knowing Tara for more than half of your life you know that they will go above and beyond when it comes to celebrations. be it weddings, birthdays, anniversaries, seasonal holidays; her and her family will do the most and it's their branding at this point.

now that you're back on the island again, you've missed everything about it. the greenery of the fields, trees arching over roads creating beautiful tunnels by nature, the fact that your best friend lives by the beach and how beautiful it would be to watch the sunrise and set with the sound of the waves rolling over the shell beach.

"hey, we've got guests coming over just after lunch. we can decorate later this evening, is that okay with you?" Tara wraps her arms around your shoulders, interrupting your gaze on your phone from the pictures of the sunrise you took earlier that morning.

"yeah that's no problem, need me to help you with anything?" you tilt your head to nudge her temple, responding to her affectionate gesture.

"actually, could you just finish the rest of those centre pieces, please?" you hum in response, "oh, and I heard Beomgyu's going to be on his way soon." she shrugs, walking out of the living room to call her other friends to discuss the time for cotillion practice.

Beomgyu. it's been a while since you've seen the name, let alone hear it. you wonder if it'll be a little awkward seeming as the last time you spoke was mid summer. there's not a lot you know about this guy, really, other than the fact that his texts are completely opposite to how he is in person; pretty dry.

pushing those thoughts aside, you pick up the glue gun and start gluing a small assortment of three to four blue and yellow roses in the small glass, cylindrical centre pieces. each centre piece had table numbers handwritten in pretty cursive handwriting, remembering that it must have been by one of Tara's friends.

each cylinder had mini battery-operated fairy lights, pulling the vision together. though there were several elements left for the remaining decorations. the completed ones were starting to look really pretty altogether.

you gather the completed centre pieces and place them in a brown cardboard box, ready for the next batch until you hear the familiar tone of Tara's voice greeting someone by the front door.

"hey Beomgyu, you're super early." you hear her laugh, "y/n's inside, you remember them, right?"

"of course." he says, walking in and making brief eye contact with you sitting on the carpeted floor.

your eyes widen slightly, brows raised and unexpected to meet him again. his hair has started to grow a little longer compared to the last time you saw him. the front pieces of his hair just about grazing his brows, and the back just touching the bottom of his nape.

"y/n?" he calls out, snapping you out of whatever it was that you were stuck in momentarily, "I asked if you need any help?" now he's sitting in the armchair by the window.

"oh. no I'm good, almost done anyway. Thank you though." you politely smile up at him, watching him take his phone out of his pocket and turning it on.

"suit it yourself." he shrugs nonchalantly, his eyes leaving yours and onto his phone's screen. you scoff a little, ignoring his response.

it was silent in the living room for almost an hour, just the occasional mini conversations between you and Tara, or Tara and Beomgyu talking about certain points of the cotillion. they were partners after all.

once you've finished with the remaining smaller decorations, you stand up to stretch before walking over to start the final decoration — Tara's name decor — which was to be placed by the display near the front inside the venue. it was her first name along with her middle name, and although they weren't long, you were aware that the process would be. having to sketch out her name in cursive, then to paint it in gold and to glue gold glitter all over it.

Beomgyu, on the other hand, started the large '18' cardboard cutout with collage photos of Tara from the photoshoot that she took a couple of months back. the pictures were beautiful, especially the few from the beach. she was standing where the mini waves were just touching her feet while she was wearing a long, black chiffon-layered dress with a spaghetti-strap. the sunset in the background created a pretty silhouette with the layers of the chiffon dress blown in the wind, and you were then starting to realise that your best friend is about to be a young woman. the thought of that was almost enough to make you emotional. almost. there's still two more days until the big day.

you start on the sketching, outlining the letters on the A1 styrofoam board, until you hear Beomgyu playing some songs from what you thought was the playlist he recommended to you. you pause for a second or two, trying to figure out which song it was and it was one of the first songs that you recommended to him months ago. smiling to yourself, you assume he compiled songs from both playlists and created a new one after listening further in the playlist.

"Beomgyu, y/n, I need you here." Tara calls after you both, her brows are scrunched up and eyes narrowed at the screen of her laptop as she watches a cotillion choreography that she's inspired from.

the sandy, blonde-haired male looks over at you, his head tilting towards Tara, essentially letting you get up and go to her first. he follows after, trailing a little behind you as you take the seat beside Tara while Beomgyu stays standing behind the both of you, just about leaning over your head.

"okay so," she starts, "I'm thinking of adding an extra move, but it's just at the very end." you watch the video as she presses play and observe the way the debutant's partner gave her a few twirls before preparing to lift her by the hip, then doing half a turn while the debutant was lifted.

you notice the way Tara pouts as she pauses the video and looks over to you and Beomgyu. your brows almost knit together, thinking that it would add a nice touch to the end of the cotillion, but realistically this was all in Beomgyu's hands. literally.

"personally, I think it would look really nice. and I know for a fact that your dress is going to look beautiful during that turn." you replay the video as the three of you rewatch it and notice the way the debutant's dress flows slightly in the air, almost in slow motion. it also reminds you of that one picture from the photoshoot and you were so sure that they'd regret it if they don't try it out.

"I don't know. the debut is in two days and tomorrow we're literally going to be spending the day to decorate the venue, and then—"

"Beomgyu, calm down, you haven't even tried it yet." you turn around and look up at him rolling his eyes at you. "try it out before the rest arrives for practice."

"y/n, are you being for real right now?" his lips twist, he's not convinced just yet, you think.

"come onnnn, Beomgyu try it out~" you sing song, "for Tara." you put your arm over your best friend's shoulders, bringing her in closer while she pouts at him.

it's always hard for Beomgyu to turn Tara down for anything. you'd think their relationship is pretty tight, but as they grew up together and being only two years apart they have that sibling energy about them. Tara is Beomgyu's weak spot, and this is the first time you've witnessed it.

"okay, fine." he sighs, defeated, but you see him smile over to Tara while ruffling the top of her head. you had no clue that you had been staring at the interaction between them for a second too long until Beomgyu calls out your name again. "you need to make sure I do it properly, I'm doing this for Tara." his voice was a little stern towards you, but it didn't bother you too much. he sounded quite defensive over the fact that he isn't doing this because you convinced him to, but you knew that that was exactly the reason why.

Tara makes her way out the back door into the garden, it was big enough to fit six pairings for the cotillion. to your surprise, she's only just told you that they have been practicing for three weeks and they only managed to remember everything the week that had just passed.

you sit on the stool by the door, facing the garden as you wait for the two to get into position for the ending of the cotillion. the pair face each other for a couple of seconds before Beomgyu twirls Tara twice, preparing for the lift. he lifts her hip onto the side of his leg, attempting to pivot in place for the turn with the other leg, but they stumble a little and Beomgyu lets go of Tara. you stand up as quick as you can to catch Tara from tripping forward and falling over.

"don't drop her!" you shout at Beomgyu. he looks at you with bland eyes, deadpan towards you.

"well, this was your idea, right?" he huffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"am I her partner?" you retort, your hands still holding onto Tara's forearm while she stands properly.

"guys, it's fine. Beomgyu, let's try again." Tara looks directly into your eyes and then Beomgyu after, her way of getting the both of you to stop arguing.

after a few attempts of the ending routine, it eventually got better to the point Tara wanted to try it out along with the music to make sure they get the timing right. you also suggest to take a video so they can review it after and they both agree. your index finger hovers over the space bar, patiently waiting for Tara to indicate when to press play.

you watch them do the routine once more until the crucial part came about, "okay, and now!" you shout as soon as the music reaches the part where the lift starts.

you watch beomgyu lift Tara steadily with a clean landing — no stumbling over or minor trips in sight. the music fades as it ends and you end the video before applauding them while you make your way toward them.

"see, I knew you could do it." you nudge Beomgyu, passing him the phone and notice the corners of his lips twitch upwards as he watches the successful move.

Tara's pleased to say the least, looking over at the phone at the same time and giving you the biggest smile.

"I know I'm terrible at thinking of things and adding things last minute, but I think that was one of my best ideas." she crosses her arms, proud of the decision she made regardless of the trouble it caused, especially between you and Beomgyu.

"yeah, you're lucky your partner was eventually convinced to do it." you tease.

"okay, okay. I get it. at least we've got that sorted out now." Beomgyu sighs, not amused with you repeating how you were right.

after heading back inside the house, you check the time and it's still early for the rest of Tara's friends to arrive for the practice. thinking of getting food before they arrive was the best idea, but Tara was called to have a dress rehearsal in case of any more altering. so it was down to you and Beomgyu to go and get food.

༺ ༻

you were grateful that the weather was good for a nice walk; the air was mildly warm with the smallest bit of breeze blown through your hair every now and then.

following Beomgyu in silence wasn't as bad as you thought. he walks in front of you, and you notice the wire of his white earphones dangling out of his pocket while he had the other in his ear.

"what song are you listening to?" you spoke up a little quieter than you expected. luckily you were just around the corner to the pizza shop, so you both stop once you cross the narrow, one way road.

"over eighty-five." he glances at you, holding eye contact for what felt like a minute to you and turns around to walk into the pizza shop.

he left you dumbfounded, remembering that that was the song that started the whole exchanging songs ordeal. you mindlessly blink at the shop front a couple of times before following suit, waiting behind him as he orders four boxes of pizzas for the group later on.

his voice is gentle when he talks to the owner of the shop. there's a lot of people in this part of the island, and everyone knows each other, if not, know of each other.

the way they exchange in conversation seems like he comes here often, the middle-aged man laughs at a bit and you see how endearing it was to see the interaction.

nevertheless, you had to set aside that it could potentially be the fact that the leo in Beomgyu is loving the attention, or it could even just be the big heart in him. either way, quietly observing them kept you entertained until he walked toward you, waiting beside you.

"Beomgyu?" your voice a little louder this time compared to earlier. he turns his head towards you, raising his brow with a hum. he isn't as firm as he was earlier, and he could physically see your shoulders relax in the smallest way possible. "can we go see that coffee shop that we walked past on the way here?"

to his surprise, that was not what he was expecting. he can sense that you've been tip-toeing around him since he arrived at Tara's house, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like you.

"yeah, we can do. we'll take the shortcut there, it'll be quicker on the way back too." he flashes you the same gentle smile he gave you the first time you met, and you notice a small dimple that disappeared not even in a fraction of a second. kinda cute.

༺ ༻

as soon as the pizzas were ready, the shop owner bids the both of you goodbye with a polite smile. you and Beomgyu split the pizza boxes to carry them back while you take up a different route, again, leaving it up to the island boy.

"how long are you staying this time anyway?" he asks you, half turning his head to face you but also making sure he watches where he's walking.

"oh, we're leaving the day after Tara's birthday. so not long, really." you reply with a shrug that he wasn't able to see anyway. you had hoped to stay longer than last time, but it was just about the same amount of days.

"I see." you almost miss his response with his quiet voice, along with a car that had driven past the both of you. but you wonder why he asked, though you knew he was probably curious like the others.

"is Soobin coming for the cotillion practice?" you remembered Soobin abruptly, he was more approachable compared to Beomgyu from the first time you met, and you remember everything clearly.

"yeah." there he is with the short responses again. you almost thought you had somewhat managed to get through to him, but it's going to be tricky with someone like him. you can't read him just yet and you're curious whether it's the same for everyone or it's just a 'you thing'.

after walking for a few more silent minutes, you see the cute, rustic coffee shop that caught your eye from earlier. this time, you were able to scan through the menu that's hung up outside on a brown clip board, reading out the set menu and the coffee of the day.

you balance the piled pizza boxes on your hip as you take your phone out to take a quick photo. Beomgyu doesn't hesitate to take the boxes from your hold and pile it on top of his.

your brows raise from the action, looking up at him with a smile followed after. "oh, thanks."

"just so the pizza won't fall. we have people to feed." his response was blunt but you still thanked him for the gesture. he faces to the side while he waits for you to finish taking your pictures, but you couldn't ignore the way the sun shines over him and some shadows from the lamppost lay over him.

you love taking photos in general. some say you're talented and you should be a photographer, but you just find it as a hobby and you don't want to take that fun aspect away.

finding a photogenic subject with a beautiful background was not easy to find, until you turn around to see exactly that. you had no second thoughts to take a picture or two of Beomgyu's side profile — to which you were extremely fascinated by — only capturing from his shoulders and up.

"let's go? I think they'll be there soon." Beomgyu speaks up, eyes meeting the sight of you holding your phone up and facing him, causing you to swiftly tuck your phone back into your pocket and reach out for the two boxes that Beomgyu took from you.

he turns quickly, so you miss and briefly grab nothing but the air where you were initially reaching out for.

"it's okay. I got it." is all he says before he continues walking in the direction of a different shortcut. a smile is twitching upon his lips as he senses you trailing behind him in confusion. if there's something you didn't know about him, it's that he's extremely observant, and his peripheral vision never fails him.

taglist: @bb-eilish @iggynor4 @ericyjun @bluejin0812 @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @hyuntaena @day6andetcetera @amethysts-1620 @gorechoi-backup @dainsleif-when-playable @choiwrld @yjusei @feyregels @ahnneyong @potaeto-writes-on-wp @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @vatterie @yunkiwii @aprilisque @baekberrie @ashxxkook (let me know if you want to be added to this series taglist or fill this form to be part of the general taglist!)

© boba-beom ; all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, alter or translate in any way or platform.

[dolce-tenebra-toscana]

La squadra's spice tolerance, from highest to lowest 🌶🌶🌶

1) Formaggio 🧀

Cheese man has the highest tolerance among his teammates, can easily eat a whole chili withput breaking a sweat and actually enjoys spicy food. However he has to remember to control himself when he makes " Aglio olio e peperoncino ", last time he sent one of his friends at the er ( more on that later 👀 )

2) Pesci 🐟

I know it's surprising, but pesci actually handles heat like a pro! His nonna and mamma are very fond on heavily seasoned cooking and they taught Pesci that a high tolerance to spices means you have a strong and warm heart.

He may not handle coffee, but he can easily eat a whole jar of 'nduja by himself!

3) Melone 🍈

Now Melone is more fond on sweet and sour than spicy, but his tolerance is actually kinda high! He can't actually explain that to himself and other to be honest cause he rarely eats spicy foods but when he does, you won't hear him complain that much; just some " ooh, maiala scotta scotta!!" Or " Deh che gliè un piccantino sto troiaio?"

4) Illuso 🔍

Now we are reaching the bottom of the pit, and illuso's sensitive tastebuds get a real kick in the shins whenever he eats spicy! Which is weird since he really likes pepper, but put even just a lil pinch of chili powder more than it supposed to be in his plate and he'll complain all night about how is tongue is " ruined forever "...such a drama queen

5) Risotto ✂️

You want the big scary capo out of your way for 2 hours? Make thai food for dinner, or even just season his pasta with the blandest chili powder you can find; you'll see him caugh and cry in no time.

His iron deficiency and his low spicy tolerance are a deadly mix and the only thing it can help him in that case is a 2 hours nap after a good ice cream, poor capo he tries his best when he goes to resturants tho 🤣

6) Prosciutto 🍖

No. Just no, take that f*cking devil dandruff away from him. Not only he can't handle spicy food, he hates it from the bottom of his heart! This includes both ethnic and italian foods, his refined palate only allows sophisticated and delicate flavours inside his mouth....and then smokes Malboro but that's beside the point! You'll never even see Prosciutto eating spicy food...but if you do prepare to see him run to the bathroom to throw up.

7) Ghiaccio 🧊

Tastebuds of a 3 year old child? Y e s!

Ghiaccio can't even SMELL the chili powder in the air that he starts gagging and caughing like crazy!! Even pepper has to stay away from his plate, and no joke he'll straight up punch you if you even dare to put something like that nearby his plate. And yes, he is the poor guy who went to the ER after tasting formaggio's food; apparently the nurses were afraid cause he looked like a rabid dog screaming blasphemies, crying, salivating and spitting....not a good sight at all.

In conclusion, Ghiaccio will have " spezzatino e polenta " grazie~

Pesca has the highest tolerance of the group, the boys saw her eating whole chilis like popcorn and were kinda freaked out 🤣

[unproduciblesmackdown]

truly fitting re: billions to have the lose-lose that if winston is written out i get to be disappointed for obvious reasons and if winston isn't written out i get to be disappointed for being denied ever knowing peace

[oh-no-my-hand-slipped]

Something New to Study

Length: Medium

Genre: Allergies, Having the Kink

CW: Female genitalia, orgasm

Rating: Mature

Description: Dr. Blaine, an uptight man of science, is beginning a new study on the structures and genetics of different types of local flowers. However, an unfortunate pollen allergy is making it very difficult for him. But there is something else stirring inside him besides frustration - something worth studying in close detail.

*****************************

Dr. Blaine turned the fine focus on his microscope with slight, slow adjustments. Between the old equipment and the darkness of the old greenhouse, it was difficult to get a clear image. The most he had been able to get so far was the blurry outline of a wall of plant cells and a few specks of dust that had fallen onto the slide.

Speaking of dust…

Dr. Blaine straightened up, propping his glasses on top of his head and taking a worn handkerchief out of his pocket. His nose hadn’t had any peace since he’d started. But no matter how much he scrubbed and sniffed, he couldn’t manage to focus on the task at hand due to a constant itch that made itself at home in the back of his sinuses.

With a quick swivel of his head to make sure he was alone, Dr. Blaine blew his nose heartily. That seemed to keep his nose at bay, for now. Once he was satisfied, he folded the handkerchief into a tight square and put it back in his front pocket. With a final sniff, he bent down again to look through his microscope.

No sooner had he looked through the lens than the itch came back with a haughty vengeance. Dr. Blaine recoiled, his nostrils flaring.

“What the deh…heh…”

He put a chapped knuckle under his nose. He mustn’t sneeze. But, with the sunlight streaming through the dirty window, he was now keenly aware of the particles floating in the air. Dust had never bothered him before, but now he couldn’t help but -

“hhhhh’CHUH!”

Without any time to unfold his handkerchief, Dr. Blaine buried his nose in his sweater. He groaned, sniffled, and used his handkerchief to wipe the inside of his collar. He blew his nose again, which only served to make him miserably congested.

“Damb by soul,” he murmured, trying to return to his work.

He had barely bent towards his microscope before he was doubled over, leaning on the peeling wall for support.

“HHHH’CCCCHUH! HHHHH’KKSSSHUH!”

The doctor’s gloved hand fell victim to sneeze after sneeze, the latex gleaming with spray. He remained slouched for a moment, trying to gather his bearings. Dr. Blaine panted, wiping his nose on his already ruined gloves.

Once he recovered, he quickly replaced his gloves before circling his microscope, his nose covered with his handkerchief. As a man of science, he ventured to make a hypothesis.

If the dust was making him sneeze, then why did it only seem to get worse around the well-kept, clean lab station? He hadn’t felt a cold coming on - although he did feel a bit flushed. Perhaps that’s what was the matter. He had gone out in the rain the night before to examine the local moss. It wouldn’t surprise him if he simply caught a case of the sniffles.

With a ginger finger, he opened a nearby drawer and procured a small thermometer wrapped in plastic. He unwrapped it and set it under his tongue, keeping the time with his watch and feeling his pulse with two fingers on his wrist. After a minute, he took the thermometer out and examined it.

98.3.

He didn’t have a fever - in fact, he was a bit cooler than usual.

His current theory disproved, threw away the thermometer and returned to a safe distance from the lab station. Dr. Blaine thought, rubbing the bridge of his nose. What else makes a person sneeze?

Animal dander? Pets were strictly forbidden on campus. Light? Though there was a bit of sunlight coming through the window, the rest of the greenhouse was dim. Feathers? Hardly.

Dr. Blaine scanned the room. There were empty soil boxes, a few pots, and rusty tools hanging from the far wall. He turned to his work station.

A new sink, test tubes, a beaker, his microscope, and, of course, his specimens.

His specimens.

The specimens in question were white flowers with pointed petals, sitting in a jar of water to keep them alive for as long as possible. Their anthers were heavy with pollen grains, all the better for studying them. They sat right next to his microscope, the filaments almost touching its stage.

Pollen allergies are very common, especially those who weren’t exposed to it in their youth. And, having been a studious child, Dr. Blaine certainly wasn’t.

But there was only one way to be sure.

He reached over and plucked one of the flowers, a Lillium to be exact, out of the jar. A truly perfect specimen, with six intact petals and fantastic coloration. Dr. Blaine was lucky to find one in such fantastic condition.

He removed his handkerchief and held the flower to his nose, taking a congested sniff.

Immediately, his nostrils quivered, and an all-consuming urge to sneeze overcame him. He grasped the flower in his fist as he tried to keep his inflamed sinuses at bay.

“Fuhuh-! Heh…HEH!”

He pressed his palm to his nose, his eyes filling with tears as more pollen was knocked from the lily’s anthers and into the air. The tip of his nose had become bright yellow.

“D-Damb i-hih-it-!”

He couldn’t control himself. He was completely at the mercy of his sensitive nose, which made him gasp and pant and whine and groan. He could do nothing except bend to its urgent will. Something he fought so vehemently against, and yet so desperately wanted.

Dr. Blaine shuddered at this realization, and something inside him stirred. The ache grew as he hitched and gasped for relief, until, finally, it came.

“HHHHYEESH’CHUUUUUUUH! KSH’CHUH! HTCHHH’CHNXUH!”

Each sneeze exploded out of him. Dropping the flower, he fumbled with his handkerchief, hoping to offer himself at least a shred of dignity. But it was no use. The best he could do was keep the back of his hand close to his nose to catch some of his spraying sneezes before it settled onto the equipment.

After a few minutes, it was finished.

Dr. Blaine sank to the ground, wilting just like the flower next to him. He laid against one of the soil boxes, wheezing. The ache he felt grew into a pounding urge, and he shuddered again.

What did this mean? For once, he didn’t care to guess. He wanted to get right to the experiment.

He stood to his shaking feet, taking another flower from the jar. A large cabinet stood open and empty - supplies were in storage for the summer. He stepped into it and closed the creaking door. The darkness was musky and thick, smelling of soil and rubber.

Sweat rolled down the back of Dr. Blaine’s neck as he reached below his trousers, gasping with pleasure as his fingers rubbed his clit. But he couldn’t finish yet. There was still much to do, if this was to be a proper experiment.

He held the flower to his face, and his nose took over again. He hitched between every moan, trying to foster both sensations as best he could. Tears streamed down his face, and he slid down the inside of the cabinet with his knees bowed.

“H-hah~ Ah~ Snnnf-! H-heh-!”

He was close. So very close. He wanted so very much to feel that familiar wetness pool between his fingers, for his spray to cover the sides of the dented, chipped metal…

There was a loud clanging as he arched his back.

“GYAAAAAAAH’CHUUUUHAAAH~ HAH~ AAAH~”

His vision flashed a brilliant white as he convulsed, his body overcome with the pleasure of a long subdued longing. He held himself against the cabinet, riding out his ecstasy.

Finally, he came dizzily down, panting. He opened one of the doors, letting the cool air bring him back to his senses. After a while, when he could breath again, he was able to stumble to the lab station’s sink and wash his hands, shivering.

“Dr. Blaine!”

Dr. Blaine jumped, and turned to see one of his colleagues standing in the doorway, their eyes wide.

“Er, uh, y-yes?” he stammered, hastily drying his hands on the front of his lab coat.

“Sakes alive, you’re shaking like a leaf!”

Dr. Blaine’s looked down. His hands were indeed shaking, and his teeth chattered.

“Yes, I, er, just…a chill, is all.”

“A chill! You look like you’re burning to a crisp!”

“Ah hah, well…”

His colleague stepped into the lab and put a hand on Dr. Blaine’s shoulder, leading him out out into the hallway.

“You should have told the dean you weren’t feeling well. You’re going to work yourself to death at this rate!”

Dr. Blaine let himself be walked to the quarters, not having any other way to explain his stumbling or shuddering.

“Do you think you can walk back to your room?” his colleague asked.

Dr. Blaine cleared his throat. “Yes, indeed, it was, er, just a spell is all.”

He was hardly able to contain himself. All he could think of was his own personal “experiment.” He could use different flowers, different tools, allergens…!

“Oh dear, you’re getting flushed again. Are you quite sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, yes, I’m alright. Just a bit of rest is all I need. Perhaps it was the heat.”

He walked towards the stairs, then turned back to his colleague, hands tightly behind his back.

“And be sure to prepare the greenhouse for me tomorrow. I’ve made a…ahem…breakthrough.”

[ajajshdhdhdjfj]

ok heres the thing. yes deh is bad. its problematic. it handles heavy topics poorly. i know and acknowledge that there are better musicals out there that should have gotten its popularity. HOWEVER. i still really like it in a guilty pleasure sort of way. i really like the songs. some of them still make me cry. its still a fun musical whose soundtrack i continue to listen to. i like dear evan hansen even though it sucks.

[biscuitbakerbecca]

Stagedorks for the ask game ?

I’ll be honest, I’m not a huge stagedorks fan, I think they’re cute together and all but it just isn’t my vibe

Unpopular opinion but I don’t think Jeremy deserved to get the girl by the end of the show, I wish it had ended more like deh where Evan doesn’t get the girl but they show him making progress and earning forgiveness from those he wronged. However seeing those two losers together in fan art does make me smile, they’re so chaotic together it’s great :)

Idk I never actively seek out stagedorks content but being in the fandom means I see it anyway and I do think it’s cute. They aren’t for me but I see the appeal. Maybe in a *three years later* au I would fuck with them more :)

Thank you Sawyer!! 🩵