#andimpulsive

[andsanctify]

` this is hands down, outright one of the most scandalous things that julia may sugarbaker has ever done in her entire life. taking up an alter ego ? wearing a hair piece ? showing this much leg ? why, if someone had told her last year that she would be spending her free evenings in a jazz club, singing about lovers being entwined - she would've laughed right in their face. yet here she is, applying a last stroke of lipstick, fluffing hair and smoothing out her practically transparent stockings, waiting for her cue to enter. the lights dim, that's when she steps up the side of stage, just out of the spotlight that's focused on the manager currently introducing her. then the lights go out, and she carefully climbs up onto the piano ( she's always been one for dramatic entrances ) the song starts, and she keeps her voice rich and smooth, looking out into the crowd, but the overhead lighting casts a glare, leaving her unaware of the confrontation about to take place.

` the roaring cheer that fills the room sets stomach aflutter with adrenaline. she hops down from the piano and takes a bow before beginning her routinely rounds, going table to table. she's just about to turn towards the last one at the back when the manager interrupts her, and when he requests her presence for tomorrows show she feels absolutely chuffed. she's sure it was clearly woven into features, that is until eyes meet a very familiar pair, and she swallows hard - anthony. gaze then darts around the table, and the sudden fear that overwhelms her is confirmed : they're all here. ❝ oh- i- hello. ❞ attempting to keep voice even, it wasn't like she had done anything wrong after all ? then why does she feel like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar ?

` explaining herself to them had gone better than anticipated, and it makes her wonder why she had kept this new found part of herself locked away. perhaps it's because it was something that was just her's, something that wouldn't be poked and prodded at, or made the brunt end of a joke. there's a part of her that feels guilty for not feeling guilty about this. she had lied, and that in itself was something she did not do to her friends, but she's been too far entranced by the thrill received from each performing to care. though she does feel remorse for not sharing this little token with mary jo, because she is not just a friend - she is a partner. everyone else has finally gone home, and now it was time to address it with her.

` voice carrying that oh so familiar melancholy warmth, ❝ mary jo, ❞ the one she uses when she's about to get what she wants. ❝ won't you come sit with me? ❞ a hand lifts, extending out towards the redhead who remained by the door after charlene's departure. ❝ please? ❞ word comes out laced in honey and sealed with a bat of eyelashes. ... @andimpulsive

[doctorcrushers]

crusher to holloway, @andimpulsive : prompt.

“ once you take the hypothetical reaction i'll have into consideration, i think you'll find the risk isn't worth the possible reward. ”

[waselegant]

@andimpulsive , feat : katherine mayfair ( prompt )

there is a delicate balance between healthy competition and rivalry. they have yet to distinguish the two. when will they finally grasp the idea that they are not opposing one another, but instead cut from the same cloth ? their frayed seams reaching out, begging to be sewn together, to be made whole… you would fail to understand where one ended and the other began. how long must they walk on eggshells before the question that could put an end to this all is finally asked : what am i to you ? friend, business partner, confidant, almost lover. perhaps it is everything and more.

she has allowed herself to become worked up. the idea of being left behind making her fall trap to temptation. it was only a matter of time before hand was shown, nothing's been the same since she moved out, since orson came back. the other is not allowed to finish before she is tackily cut off. " and so you're just going to follow her off into the sunset ? " there's a sharpness that leaves tongue and carries through to the last word, head snapping towards the woman sitting adjacent. it is when their eyes meet that racing thoughts finally slow, and the silence of the room grows heavy - it's suffocating. now overcome with a wave of remorse for allowing temper to take precedent to ration, oh the carnage left in the wake of jealousy. " i - " gaze flicks to the clock, as if watching the secondhand tick by would make the scene she's created conclude any faster. " i'm not sure how you expected me to take this. "