the west wing musical

he think he slick

3

Someone on twitter tonight very kindly informed me that, waaaaay back once upon a time in 2011, @linmanuel posted his dream cast for a West Wing musical on his now-defunct blog. And since the internet never forgets, I share it with you all now.

I support everything about this casting (Patti LuPone as Marion Coatsworth-Hayes! Audra McDonald as Nancy McNally!) and wish to see it become reality as soon as humanly possible.

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I’m not ready to agree with that this was the best 5 minutes television ever produced but … I might?

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ginger, get the popcorn…

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Comfortable

I think this might fall under @leiascully‘s Rest challenge … yeah … I’m gonna slap it under that category and call it a day :)

Also, it’s a post-ep for ‘Millennium’ … 

Enjoy 8^)

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Mulder hadn’t seen her this weary in a long time … months since she had shadows that dark under her eyes, skin as pale as winter sunshine, lips faded to a hint of the rose they should be. Walking towards him, he stood immediately, taking in her exhaustion with a blinking glance, “hey there.”

She didn’t really answer, more like nodded her head with the illusion of giving a shit that she was upright and mobile. Dropping her bag on the floor by the coat rack and her shoes beside it, she brandished a file folder, tossed it to his lap, missed, didn’t care, ignored the sheaf of paper fanned across the hardwood and crawled, wobbled, swayed, landed face first across his couch.

He didn’t argue, taking in her rapidly encompassing coma state as a sign to keep his mouth shut of any and all sarcastic comments regarding the commandeering of his furniture for her hedonistic napping session. Not caring to move much himself, given his wrapped shoulder and still pulling scabs on his neck, he eventually picked up the folder, glancing through the final report on zombies or reanimated human-like entities before tossing it back to the floor.

He really didn’t give a rat’s fuzzy butt about the case, preferring not to remember it as his apartment fell to the early winter darkness. He wasn’t a fan of fire; he wasn’t a fan of cold; he wasn’t a fan of conspiring assholes and now he knew he definitely wasn’t a fan of reani- … zombies … whatever the hell they were. He mostly just wanted to forget them and enjoy some TV and a nap.

But Scully was in his TV watching spot, face squished into the cushion where he usually sat, the compressed foam perfectly indented to his rear after countless years and which was now cradling his soon-to-be drooling partner, her arm hanging to the floor, hand bent at the wrist, fingerprints pressed to woven striped rug.

And she was fairly cute doing it.

Settling back in the office chair he currently occupied and would occupy for the foreseeable future, he shifted his good arm up, resting his head against his hand, deciding that since he didn’t have a decent angle for the TV now, he’d just watch her.

Turned out to be the best entertainment of the night.

“Mul … ler?”

That startled him a little. She’d been snoring not half a second earlier and he never expected her to say anything.

“Yeah?”

“Muller?”

“Yes, Scully?”

Still not answering, she broke into a grin, her face shifting enough so he could just make out her mouth in full, “Muller.”

By now, his chuckle had emerged, head tilting further to the side to see her better, “Scully.”

Pulling her arm up, she languidly twisted onto her side, back against the back, knees sliding over each other until she settled again, left arm draped over belly, breasts pushed together in tantalizing, nearly spilling out cleavage.

He could see her knees as well.

Shit.

He had a thing for her knees. He’d been watching them peak out from underneath skirts for what felt like decades now and he had been fantasizing about his hand on one of them for just as long. Oddly, he had pictured her on her knees doing … things … to him for nearly as long but those fantasies were nowhere near as frequent as the ones where he simply sat beside her, warm palm cupped over her rounded knee, the beautiful 90-degree joint that carried her beside him everywhere and anywhere without fault and without fail.

He was utterly beguiled and bewildered at the sight of her knees. He’d shake his head to bring himself back to a sense of manly reality but, really, why.

Granted, the cleavage did fight for his attention, don’t get him wrong but tonight, he took his voyeuristic time, enjoying his blue-glowing Scully in all her napping glory, knees out for the world to see.

He chuckled again at the realizing that he was so far under her spell, it was shocking he could still function at all in society.

Then again, his society for the time being, consisted of Scully and zombies.

He gave himself five more minutes before forcing himself to stand, go to the kitchen, silently find some dinner, forget his partner on the couch in order to take a deep breath, sort his head back to the here and now.

“Muller?”

Like a snapping rubber band, he was back at her side before he knew his feet were moving, “Scully?”

This time, though, her eyes were open, staring up at him, confused and squinty, “am I hungry?”

“I … I don’t know.” Giving her a soft smile, “I was just making myself some food. You got here about an hour ago so you probably are hungry. It’s after 7.”

Time stamp sinking in, “hey, we’re missing ‘Wheel of Fortune’.”

God, he really should just propose now and get it over with, “want to find the channel and I’ll heat up whatever the hell isn’t nasty in my fridge?”

Hand already digging in the cushions for the remote, “deal.”

Sooner than later, they were buried deep in the couch, Mulder’s feet on the coffee table, Scully’s tucked underneath her, knee touching his thigh and blanket haphazardly thrown over them, empty plates near his toes. As they waited for the final ‘Jeopardy’ clue, Mulder debated whether it was time.

Scully chose action over debate.

Reaching towards him, she quietly gripped his pinkie finger and slowly dragged his hand from his leg to hers, stopping once her knee rounded out his palm.

In answer, he slid a little further down in the cushions, elbow resting on her upper thigh and fingers curved more securely around the sacred bones.

Mulder left it there through the last question, through two episodes of something he didn’t have the capacity to pay attention to because Scully was real and beside him, only one layer of blanket between skin on skin. Then, around nine, he gathered boldness from points unknown and deftly moved from above blanket to below, back to knee, heat on heat, watching her out the corner of his eye and relaxing when he saw the smallest of smiles curve her lip.

He was golden tonight.

And he sure as hell wasn’t going to push it.

Soon, cliched date night situations aside, her head landed on his shoulder, the credit music of ‘West Wing’ filling the room as she quietly asked, “would you mind if I stayed here tonight?”

“Of course not. Tired?”

“Yeah … but …” he could hear the hesitation beating the space between them, “mostly I … I’m comfortable and don’t want to go home right now.”

Squeezing her leg, he moved to stand, “let me go find you something to sleep in.”

She let him stand, missing him instantly and watched him trek away, sling band across his back, gait stilting slightly because a jostling walk sent pains through his unhealed bones. Following seconds later, she stood in his bedroom doorway, blanket over her shoulders, “anything is fine.”

Turning, “why’d you get up? You said you were comfortable on the couch?”

“No, I said I was comfortable.” Stepping closer, her eyes twinkled and sparked, “I’m comfortable with you and with your hand on me and being in this apartment and I don’t want to go home. There’s a difference between that and not wanting to get up from the couch to follow you.”

After keeping his grin to mere epic proportions, he gathered a t-shirt and some sweatpants, handing them to her after he moved to stand in front, “here you go and does that mean you’re not ready to go to sleep yet? Should we go see what else we can find to watch?”

Nodding, “go start looking while I change.” Quick like bunny, she came back into the living room and Mulder lost his powers of speech. Looking from her bare knees and the bottom of the shirt he gave her, which fell an inch above the aforementioned knees, to her face, she laughed as she settled back beside him, blanket once again over them, his hand moving under the blanket and back to its spot with little hesitation, “I’ll put the pants on before I go to sleep.”

&&&&&&&&&&

The next morning, with the blinds closed and the sunlight non-existent behind layers of gray cloud, she didn’t wake up until after eight and that was only because an especially exuberant burble from the fish tank invading her senses. Ignoring the clock, she puttered around the place while she made tea and found a box of semi-expired PopTarts, settling on the couch once again to have her breakfast before she decided to give any kind of thought to work. Mulder ventured forth halfway through her second cup, hair askew and shirt twisted under his immobilizer. Attempting and failing to straighten himself out, he dropped beside her, “when did you wake up and do you know you’re late for work?”

Doing her best not to spew forth a torrent of crumbs when she answered him, “woke up 20 minutes ago and not too sure I care about work today. How are you?”

Taking the bite of PopTart she offered him, he chewed thoughtfully, “better because you’re here.”

“I meant your shoulder but thank you.”

“You make everything better, shoulder included.”

Moving the blanket to cover his legs as well, mirroring the night before, she watched him put his hand back under the blanket, his eyebrows raising when he ran into skin instead of flannel, “still no pants, young lady?”

“Nope.”

“You should play hooky with me and not wear any pants at all.”

Pretending to debate, she tucked the blanket in closer under her legs and wiggled against him, “you should find me some cartoons. Flintstones if possible … or Scooby-Doo.”

With a non-chalant and non-presumptuous kiss to the top of her head, “I love you and your cartoony, pantsless ways.”

“I love you and your expired PopTart owning ways.”

Finding the Flintstones on some backend cable channel, “today is going to be a good day.”

Already planning a nap, probably in Mulder’s bed and probably not alone, “a very good day.”

Where's that damn tunnel?

I had to sit through an afternoon of MATH INSERRVICE today. All elementary teachers of all contents had to go to MATH INSERVICE. Something about common core blah, blah, blah.

Here is a list of annoying things in the Music Education world I would rather do than sit through those kind of meetings:

1. I would rather give tambourines to KINDERGARTNERS to play with…than sit through those types of meetings.

2. I would rather plan Music Programs for 200 kids…than sit through a math inservice

3. I would rather listen to 40 recorders playing Hot Cross Buns on the first day of recorder…than sit through a math inservice.

About 5 minutes in, I remembered a scene from The West Wing wherein President Bartlett was looking for a way to tunnel out of Church because of the less than stellar homily he and Abby were sitting through.

I’m with your Mr. President, where’s that damn tunnel!

Wieners & Peaches (2)

Originally posted by kimsjaehwan

< - previous chap. // next chap. - >

Characters: Wanna One x Reader


Summary:
The apartment building you were living in was brand new, so there were a bunch of available apartments to rent, including five other apartments surrounding yours. All of the neighbors you’ve met so far were the sweetest people, and it’s so nice and quiet around the area, it was safe for children and safe for somebody like you. The five other apartments are finally sold, and you couldn’t be happier to have someone to share the floor with. Two families and a duo of boys moved in on the east wing of the 22nd floor, and on the west wing, where your apartment and the two others were located, was now occupied by four other guys, two in one respectively. And now, after a few months has passed by, you’re regretting your wish of wanting neighbors.

WARNING: Inappropriate behaviors and use of curse words!

A/N: So I was hella excited when I saw how many enjoyed the first one hahah, didn’t think y’all liked it so it took me awhile to finish the second one. the pressure was real, no joke. enjoy I guess? pls have mercy if it sucks. I’ll admit, kinda rushed this as well? and I wrote this while I was halfway drunk. I’ll have to proofread it when I got time again. enjoy & thanks a bunch. <3 



Before Seungwoo had the opportunity to harass you some more, a hand came from behind and hit him straight in the back head. You dropped the grip on your twins and curiously looked over his shoulder as your features softened up by the sight, there stood a glaring Jisung.

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Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Final Bows in ‘Hamilton’ on Broadway (NYT):

Lin-Manuel Miranda’s final bows for his farewell performance in “Hamilton” on Saturday night seemed routine, if overly humble for the departure of the show’s star and mastermind. He even shared his bows with the other cast members also exiting the show, including Phillipa Soo and the Tony winner Leslie Odom Jr.

But then the theme song to “The West Wing” kicked in from the orchestra pit.

Mr. Miranda giggled and took a couple of shy bows, only to turn around and be embraced then pushed back to the front of the stage by Christopher Jackson, who plays George Washington, for a proper bow.

Still, the curtain call lasted no more than two and a half minutes, despite fervent applause, which had been consistent throughout the night. The opening number received multiple standing ovations, as did many others. But Mr. Miranda and other performers would pause for only a minute each time before moving the show forward.

Afterward, in the pouring rain, hundreds and hundreds of fans filled West 46th Street, waiting for Mr. Miranda to emerge from the stage door at the Richard Rodgers Theater.

Instead, Mr. Miranda appeared, “Evita”-like, on a balcony atop the theater’s marquee. Holding an umbrella and waving to fans, he paced from one side of the marquee to the other, occasionally stopping to hold his left hand over his heart to show gratitude.

Then he was gone.

“It’s over, folks,” a police officer yelled as he tried to keep the crowd out of the street. “There’s no more.”

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For our last digital #Bam4Ham #Ham4Ham show at the White House, we had to pay respects to The West Wing.

I had a bad day and I was on my way home. I took the train because that was the fastest way to our house. While inside the train, a thought came to me “Where should I go?” I asked myself. I don’t know. I don’t want to go home that time, what’s wrong with me?

Minutes passed and I am way too far from home already. Instead of going down, I enjoyed the trip. It was an ordinary afternoon that day, not much people are taking the train because there’s no rush. While it is still on going, a woman sat in front of me with a child. The girl looked so amazed while gazing on the window. I saw her mother’s smile and eventually I just missed mine to. My mom. She used to like this kind of adventure, riding the train without knowing the destination. For the past years I’m here in this city, I’ve never reached the end of the line. I don’t know, maybe it’s too far? 

It’s almost night and the sun starts to set. A guy on the west wing is reading a book while listening to music. During my college years, I used to play with my friends in the arcade, bond with relatives. Now that i’m over it, I started to work and my social life came to an end. To ease the stress earned in a whole day computer work, I read a book, listen to music, or do both while on my way home. Books and music became my only escape since after my childhood days ended.

The train’s journey ended, and to my surprise, I ended up being in the last station. For the first time. This is what it looks like, it has a beach at a far side 20 minutes walk from the station. I stayed there for a while, alone. I took off my shoes and run of the sands to the waters. It feels cold. I stand my ground on the waters and it actually makes me happy. For a while, all my problems were gone. The solitude, the feeling of being alone surrounded me that time. i put my earphones on and played my favorite music. The moon shines bright that night “Thank you.” I said as my eyes were on the moon. It calmed me. It’s hard to let go of that place. The water, sand, moon, and solitary are priceless. I packed my things, get ready to go home. i smiled before I leave and promised, “I will come back.”