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cavernfullofexistentialdread · 2 months

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My thoughts on FIVE

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LONG POST AHEAD

I found it promising, I’ll tell you that much. I do have to acknowledge my bias towards to this piece of art. It’s WONDERFUL that a musical like SIX has sparked so much creativity and is even getting a parody!! WE’VE MADE IT INTO THE HALL OF FAME QUEENDOM!!

ALSO FUCKING JAIME??? STARKID FANS RISE UP!!

I’m was giving this thing the benefit of the doubt. I was sort of confused when I first learned about it, and I had this gut feeling that I’d hate it. I honestly thought it was kind of weird that we’re using this to make a parody of… TRUMP of all people??? Like these women are still ALIVE to my knowledge.

My only wish is that they acknowledge and give their opinion on this musical in some way because say it with me now; THEIR STILL ALIVE AND HAVE THE RIGHT TO AN OPINION ON HOW THEIR VIEWED!

However I have not seen it yet and I am excited to see what my favorite musical has inspired! …Is what I’d be saying if I hadn’t read some reviews. It seems the general consensus is that while it is funny it’s not as innovative in its humor as it could be. And it may not have done what it wanted

As this TheaterMania review states

“A musical send-up of the women in Trump’s orbit, Five: The Parody Musical, would seem to be just what the doctor ordered as we face the prospect of yet another Trump administration. So why wasn’t I laughing?“

I thought this article was being a little harsh on this musical, until I read THIS.

“The few genuinely funny moments in Five spring entirely from Jen Wineman’s adequate production — her choreography is both simplistic and sloppily executed, which is funny in its own way — and the ingenuity of the actors.”

I was surprised by this, the advertising leaned heavily into the humor of it all. The fact that it was a parody—“LOOK OUT SIX!” And “MAKE AMERICA LAUGH AGAIN!” made me excited to see how they’d creatively dunk on Trump. Like how SIX had done with Henry VIII

Then I remembered what else this article had said in regards to the humor

“The jokes generally hit three points: Donald Trump is orange, he has a small penis, and he likes getting peed on. This is territory that our overpopulated heard of late-night hosts have already stomped to death — without asking audiences to fork over the price of an off-Broadway ticket.””

And I was getting suspicious, so I looked at some more reviews. This article spends a lot of time dogging on FIVE and I was still trying to hold out hope.

This review from StageandCinema is a lot more kind! I was excited to find out what went RIGHT! About this musical!

“Five is much more sexual and crude in its descriptions of being fucked by Donald Trump. Hearing about his small prick and his sexual escapades (especially from pornstar Stormy), I struggled to immediately delete such images from my mind’s eye. The thought of Donald in any sexual act turned my stomach, which may have kept me from laughing. Perhaps nausea and comedy cancel each other out?”

OH… UHM…

Of course in the end they do have the same acknowledgment at the end of SIX, “Just because we were fucked by Donald Trump doesn’t mean we need to fuck each other over.” (A direct quote from the end of the paragraph containing the previous quote)

Through this article I also found out that this is actually a jukebox parody! (Which is when you parody existing songs in order to use it in the plot of a musical story telling medium). Which honestly was a welcome surprise. They’re not ashamed that is a BLATANT parody.

Okay! Let’s see what else we can find!

“It did seem like a clever idea, for at least five seconds”

WOW okay…

This article then goes on to discuss some political and legal matters that has come up surrounding the Sex worker that Trump is going against in court. He IS the first president with a criminal record (he went to court for sexual abuse, and also was impeached)

The article puts it perfectly

“Given such news of late, it’s increasingly difficult for me to appreciate, or even tolerate, a trivial show like “Five.” The creative team hasn’t read the room.”

This isn’t a fuck you to Trump supporters, this isn’t seriously discussing Trump’s effect on these women in ANY sort of fashion, this isn’t even ABOUT discussing Trump’s political status. It’s about parodying SIX and making fun of these women. The main selling point is “WHAT IF SIX BUT TRUMP!?”

“But even those who still view political humor as political armor will be disappointed, because “Five” seems little interested in Trump’s treatment of women, much less his threat to American democracy; instead, its main target is “Six.” As political commentary, “Five” is near witless, tasteless, and toothless. But even just as a parody of “Six,” it’s too on the nose. If some theatergoers will find “Five” entertaining, I suspect it’ll largely be because its talented six-member cast makes the most of the moments in the show that add up to a stealth, second-rate “Forbidden Broadway.”

This review is BRUTAL it points out the flaws it see’s in FIVE with wit full words. This article was my turning point. It made me genuinely start to be dissatisfied with a show I HAVEN’T EVEN SEEN YET.

““Five” is not an exercise in female empowerment; the women in Trump’s lives are most often mocked. Nor is it a takedown of a would-be tyrant; zingers against Trump rarely get more sophisticated than commenting on the size of his penis or calling him the orange bitch or orange troll.”

This is an insult to the very FABRIC of my opinions. THIS WAS A PARODY OF SIX. OF SIX. INCLUDE STUFF FROM SIX. JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE THE MORAL DOES NOT MEAN YOU TAUGHT IT. TRUMP IS NOT A GOOD PERSON.

THIS IS A PARODY OF SIX. BE CREATIVE WITH YOUR INSULTS! IF YOU’RE MAKING A PARODY ABOUT TRUMP THAT HAS TO DO WITH THE SUFFARAGE OF WOMEN AND WHAT WE DO WITH TRAGEDY; FUCKING SHOW IT!

This is so obviously anti-Trump. But it does’t FEEL that way. It feels against these women as well. Which is strange, considering it’s supposed to be like SIX.

Don’t get me wrong I fucking HATE TRUMP CAN’T WAIT FOR HIS ACTIONS TO CATCH UP TO HIM. But HOLY SHIT this is NOT where I thought this musical was going!

I plan on looking more into this musical, but these are my thoughts for now. I was initially a hater, turned skeptic, turned confused and insulted.

Look—I don’t WANT to be so hateful about something I haven’t seen. But if THIS is what reviews are saying (and there’s barely any of them) then WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH IT???

I WANT THESE ACTRESSES TO HAVE AMAZING CAREERS! But if THIS is the show their put on, a show that is INSULTING women… then what???

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bobfloydsbabe · 2 years

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motion sickness: next gen || kids of top gun

Rating: G

Summary: The kids of our favorite aviators take on high school. Jamie Lane-Seresin has a crush on Marcus Fitch. Dalia Garcia-Alvarez may have just gotten the two to go on a date, and poor David Floyd has no idea what's going on.

Motion Sickness is the shared universe featuring Jas Lane (Turning Tables) and @joaquinwhorres' Caro and Dalia Alvarez (Tailspin). This is a next generation fic in this universe.

Warning(s): Dalia being a menace, Jamie being done with her shit, confused David. A wild Jas appears.

Word count: ~2.0k

A/N: This fic is a gift for Anna (@joaquinwhorres) who is celebrating her half birthday tomorrow! I couldn't wait, so it's a day early. There is nothing I enjoy more than expanding this universe with you, so I present to you a little next gen fic for your reading pleasure that no one else will probably read. I appreciate you and your friendship more than you know. Enjoy, friends!

Likes are nice, but comments and reblogs are golden.

Dalia poked her side. “Look who just walked in.”

Jamie raised her head from her sketchbook to the entrance to the cafeteria, where Marcus Fitch sauntered in with the rest of the football team in tow.

It was like a scene out of the movies Jas and Caro always insisted they watch on sleepovers. Marcus moved in slow motion as he laughed over his shoulder at something his friend at said that probably wasn’t even that funny. Jamie swore there was even the faint sound of swelling music coming from somewhere.

Jamie tore her eyes away, looking at Dalia, whose smug smirk reminded her so much of Caro. They really were the spitting image of each other.

“The football team?” Jamie said, shrugging, trying to play it cool. It’s what Jas would have done.

Dalia hummed, but Jamie didn’t love the devious grin on her friend’s face.

“Don’t–“

Dalia opened her mouth and shouted across the expanse of the cafeteria. “Marcus!”

Not only did the older boy’s head whip up, but so did the heads of nearly every kid in the room, as Dalia waved her hand wildly in the air, almost smacking Jamie’s temple in the process.

Marcus said something to his friends before weaving in and out of tables and bodies to make it to them. Jamie begged for the ground to swallow her whole at the sheer embarrassment of being looked at by everyone.

Dalia’s hand landed back on the tabletop unceremoniously. Jamie cursed under her breath.

“Hey, guys,” Marcus greeted, offering them a wide and confident smile that made Jamie’s insides feel funny. She muttered a hello, dreading whatever Dalia would say next.

“Jamie has an art show tomorrow,” she said, looking the picture of innocence, but Jamie scowled.

“You do?”

She raised her eyes to meet Marcus’ warm brown ones. “It’s not my art show,” she clarified. “It’s for Art Club. David is showing, too.”

At the sound of his name, he looked over his shoulder at his friends who were beckoning him to join them again. He looked back at his childhood friends, and Jamie felt smaller, acutely aware that Marcus was older and significantly cooler. “I’ll be there.”

Jamie frowned. “You don’t have to do that,” she said, shaking her head.

The broad smile Marcus offered her made her heart pound and her palms sticky. “I want to,” he assured her and wandered back to the football team at the far end of the cafeteria.

Dalia’s grin was smug and self-satisfied. “I just got you a date.”

“It’s not a date,” Jamie argued. “Coming to an art club art show after school is not a date.”

“It’s definitely a date.”

Jamie groaned. “You’re insufferable.”

Dalia grinned and waved at David, who was making his way through the crowd, holding on to his backpack and lunch tray for dear life. “You love me.”

“Debatable.”

David slumped into the seat opposite Jamie and Dalia. “What’s debatable?”

“Whether I love Dalia,” Jamie said, sliding her chemistry notebook across the table to David so they could compare results of their latest lab.

“You do,” he said matter-of-factly.

A smug smile crept back on Dalia’s face. “See? David knows.”

“David is also failing chemistry.”

He frowned, opening Jamie’s notebook. “I’m not,” he reminded them. “I’m in AP Chem.”

“You can be in AP Chem and still fail.”

“But I’m not.”

“You sound more like Jas every day,” Dalia interrupted, cutting off their arguing. It wasn’t a new thing that Jamie and David argued over classes and test scores, and though there was never any malice to it, she knew it was irritating to listen to sometimes.

Jamie would have argued with Dalia if she wasn’t right. When she’d first been in foster care with her parents, Jamie had taken to Jake the fastest. They’d bonded over sports. He’d been patient with her, and he’d learned to do her hair. Jamie rarely let anyone touch her hair. The older Jamie got, the more she had picked up Jas’ mannerisms.

She had grown into herself with these people. She was just eight when she met them, but Dalia had decided they were best friends from the jump, and they’d spent countless nights at Caro’s place when Jake and Mickey were deployed.

Their parents were all friends, but they felt more like family. A family Jamie never thought she would have, but Jake and Jas had opened their life to her. They had always treated Jamie like their own, even before they adopted her.

“Why were you debating if you love Dalia or not, anyway?”

“She’s insufferable,” Jamie said at the same time as Dalia mentioned the Marcus Debacle.

“Marcus is coming to the show?”

Dalia nodded furiously, beaming with pride. “All I had to do was mention Jamie, and he said he’d come.”

“That’s not true,” Jamie said with an incredulous look at her best friend before explaining what had actually transpired.

“It’s a date,” Dalia announced when Jamie had finished relaying the information.

David’s brows furrowed, and he delayed his answer by sipping his water bottle. “Marcus coming to the art show is a date? For who?”

“Jamie, of course,” Dalia answered, sounding like she thought he was dumb for not picking up on that very obvious conclusion.

David frowned. Jamie could practically see the wheels turning inside his brain as he tried to figure out how Dalia had gotten there. By the looks of it, he was having little luck.

“It’s an art club show after school,” David said slowly. Jamie saw a hint of Bob in his brows and mouth when he frowned again. “That doesn’t seem like a date.”

“Thank you,” Jamie exclaimed triumphantly, slamming her palm down on her sketch book, smearing the piece she was working on. She cursed under her breath before closing the book.

“He does like you, though,” David said nonchalantly, looking down at Jamie’s notes from AP Chem, not realizing his mistake until it was too late.

Dalia eyed him suspiciously. “You know something,” she said and pointed to him.

“I have eyes,” he said and shrugged for good measure. His mom hated when he shrugged.

Jamie looked between her friends, not understanding the silent conversation they tried to have through glances alone.

“We will talk about this later,” Dalia said to David, sounding more like a threat than a suggestion. It was during moments like those where there was no doubt Dalia was Caro’s daughter.

Dalia turned her attention back to Jamie. “You’ve been in love with him since we were twelve. Is it so bad to just call it a date even if he doesn’t know it?”

Jamie groaned, a habit she had undoubtedly picked up from Jas over the years, and slammed her head against her arm resting on the closed sketchbook.

“You’re insufferable,” she murmured into the crook of her arm.

Jamie didn’t have to look at Dalia to know she was grinning triumphantly.

Caro picked them up from school that afternoon because Marcus had a late football practice, and couldn’t take them like he normally did. Jamie waved at the car over her shoulder, walking up the driveway to her front door.

Jas and Jake had done a lot of work on the house after they moved in together. Mostly Jake. Jas had been tasked with painting the porch and barely managed that, getting paint all over herself, the grass, and the neighbor’s cat.

Jamie loved that story.

She let herself into the house, knowing Jas would be up and getting ready for the night shift. “Mom?”

“In here,” Jas spoke from the kitchen.

She dropped her backpack on the bench in the entryway and rounded the corner to the kitchen where Jas was preparing tea for Jamie and coffee for herself.

She was in scrubs, her hair tied into a tight bun that closely resembled the one she’d been forced to wear in the Navy. She slid the mug across the counter towards Jamie, who sat on one of the tall bar stools.

“How was school?”

Jamie shrugged. “It was alright,” she said, sipping her tea. “I think Mr. Simmons is planning a pop quiz for AP Chem. I compared notes with David at lunch.”

Jas offered Jamie a spoon to stir her tea with, which she accepted. “You feel okay about it?”

“Yeah,” she said, swirling the spoon around the tea, filling the air with the scent of chamomile.

“I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow,” Jas said and mirrored Jamie’s sip of her mug. “I managed to change shifts with someone, so I can come to your art show. I’m not sure if Jake can make it, so you’ll have to ask him when he gets home, but he wants to be there.”

Jamie smiled. Jas and Jake were practical people, and when she made the track team, she wasn’t surprised when they came to every race and tournament, but their support of her interest in art? That was a shock.

“Got any surgeries planned today?”

“Nothing scheduled,” Jas replied, taking another sip. “But emergency medicine is unpredictable, so who knows?”

“It’s like you then.”

Jas paused, the mug halfway to her mouth, and stared at Jamie.

“I know you did not just call me unpredictable,” Jas said in mock outrage, putting her coffee back on the counter and placing her hand over her chest.

“Didn’t you string dad along for weeks when you first met?”

Jas snorted. “He loved it, and if he ever tells you otherwise, he’s lying.”

Jamie chuckled, letting her eyes glide around the room at the pictures and memories scattered around the kitchen and living room. Besides a picture from their wedding that Jamie had recreated in Art Club for the show, her favorite was a picture Caro had snapped on the day Jas and Jake got together officially.

They were at the bar they all still went to. The Hard Deck. The picture was taken from the back with Jas and Jake resting their elbows on the bar top while Penny was getting them drinks. They were looking at each other, foreheads almost touching, and grinning widely like little kids. Jake liked to say that night was the first time he ever saw Jas truly relax in his presence.

“He liked it,” Jamie agreed. “You were still unpredictable, though.”

Jas chuckled. “I guess so.”

They spent the next ten minutes talking about school and homework, about the upcoming holiday season and whether they were going to Texas to stay with Jake’s parents or San Francisco to stay with Jas’ moms.

Jas checked her watch again. “I have to get going,” she said and swallowed the last bit of coffee, placing the mug in the sink. “Would you mind emptying the dishwasher? You know how your dad gets.”

“Of course,” Jamie agreed.

Jas came around the kitchen island and kissed Jamie’s temple. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow for your art show, okay?”

“Okay,” Jamie answered as the corners of her mouth ticked upwards, watching Jas throw her phone and wallet into her bag. Jamie leaned back in her seat so she could see the front door around the corner.

“Drive safe,” Jamie yelled when Jas took her car key from the bowl by the front door.

“Yeah yeah,” Jas shouted back, probably rolling her eyes at the fact that even her daughter knew she was a terrible driver.

As the door slammed, Jamie’s phone pinged in her pocket with a text from Jake, letting her know he would be able to come to her art show tomorrow and did she want pizza for dinner.

She answered the man she considered her father that she did want pizza and asked if she could invite Dalia to join them.

❋❋❋

taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @arrthurpendragon, @ocappreciationtag, @chrissymunson, @cas-verse, @chickensarentcheap, @asirensrage, @misskatiewrites, @stanshollaand, @eddiemunscns, @raith-way, @wordspin-shares, @veetlegeuse

top gun taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @joaquinwhorres, @fantasias-creativebubble, @lostinwonderland314, @luckyladycreator2, @blue-aconite, @dempy, @alana4610, @littlebadariell, @cherrycola27, @whisperofsong, @another-tblr-fangirl, @flashyourgreeneyesatme, @seymour-cant-read, @wordspin-shares

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daikenkki · 5 months

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#ATP Tour #WTA Tour #tennis #Iga Swiatek #Qinwen Zheng #Hubert Hurkacz #Zhizhen Zhang #Alex De Minaur #Novak Djokovic #Ajla Tomljanovic #Natalija Stevanovic #Adrian Mannarino #Lorenzo Sonego #Stefanos Tsitsipas #Steven Diez #Caroline Garcia #Jasmine Paolini #Leylah Fernandez #Maria Sakkari

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ladyimaginarium · 9 months

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pretty boy consumed by death

telltale's the walking dead. / dust bowl — ethel cain. / crying during sex — ethel cain. / chapel hill — ethel cain.

For @emmiewlw.

#arcana.weaves #fictives.#clementine maria jasmine cree.#javier garcia.#they're definitely not my& biggest otp but he was a sweet puppy love crush for her & fitting for a first crush& it was wholesome 😭

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sapphic-book-tournament · 7 months

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My favorite thing about running this tournament is seeing people add things to their TBR. It just warms my heart a little. The book that was voted off in the first round that I would recommend most is Blind Beauty by @authorjasminegarcia. It is one of the best things I have read this year and I’m already reading it. I was obsessed with the Medusa myth as a kid and this retelling was something I didn’t know that I needed in my life.

#sapphic book tournament #sapphic books #lesbian books #lesbian #sapphic #lgbt #lgbt books #lgbt characters #sapphic fiction #lesbian romance #sapphic medusa #blind beauty #Jasmine Garcia #Mirra and Medusa #medusa retelling #Medusa x mirra #Medusa blind woman

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hydesjackiespuddinpop · 11 months

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June 17, 2016

Jasmine (hesitant): I don’t know if that’s a…good idea.

*Leia and Jay look confused*

Leia: What do you mean?

*Harley, Alex, Jasmine briefly looked at each other.*

Harley: You guys are so…mom and dad.

Jay and Leia (shocked): Seriously?

Eric (drinking a cup of tea): And history keeps on repeating.

*He and Donna clink their cups*

Jasmine: It’s not personal. We have names for all of you guys. You and aunt Leia are ‘mom and dad’. Aunt Nikki and Aunt Gwen the fun aunts.

*Gwen and Nikki grin in pride*

Harley: Mr and Mrs.Runck are the cooky aunt and uncle.

Nate and Sarah (offended): Hey!

Alex: And Mr.Chen-Marshall and Mr.Marshall-Chen are the sofisticated uncles with the best taste.

Ozzie (smirking): Ha!

*Ozzie and Etienne high five each other*

Kelso (confused): I'm confused. So if Eric and Donna are 'mom and dad', Jackie and Hyde are 'the fun aunt and uncle', Fez and Rhonda 'cooky aunt and uncle'...

*Fez pouts at that memory and Rhonda kisses his cheek*

Kelso: Then what are me and Brooke?

Nikki: The crazy aunt and uncle.

*Kelso and Brooke scoff in offense*

Red: Crazy aunt and uncle? I like that.

Kitty (gasps): Red Forman!

*Kitty swats him in the arm*

Red (groans): Kitty!

*Jay and Leia look at Eric and Donna in horror*

Jay and Leia (shocked): Holy shit.

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woofety · 7 months

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Come on Jasmine you can do it give us the semifinals 🙏

#I wonder #tennis #she can do it she can do it SHE CAN DO IT #she even beat Caroline Garcia yesterday ❤️‍🔥#and she has made good results and seems in great shape JASMINE YOU CAN DO IT #BJKC

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joaquinwhorres · 2 years

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Tailspin - Part 2 (Fanboy Garcia x F!OC)

SUMMARY ››››› Having grown up just across the bridge from North Island, Carolina Alvarez has been told her whole life to stay away from the Top Gun boys. And for the most part, she has. That is, until Fanboy catches her putting quarters in the jukebox at The Hard Deck and initiates a game of cat and mouse that ends with her exactly where she swore she’d never be.

PAIRING ››››› Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x F!OC

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,845

WARNINGS ››››› None

MASTERLIST ››››› Here

A/N ››››› I can't believe I forgot to mention my lovely beta-readers @rae-gar-targaryen and of course @bobfloydsbabe. @bobfloydsbabe has also done me the honor of allowing me to use her OC Jasmine Lane in this story which I am beyond thankful for.

Caro never planned on coming back to the Hard Deck.

Given her reluctance to even step foot in the navy bar in the first place and the subsequent events which had done nothing but affirm her initial aversion, coming back now seemed borderline masochistic. She'd already spent more than her fair share of time within the wood paneled walls.

But she'd promised him that she would come for a drink, and she was nothing if not a woman of her word.

No matter how ill-thought her word might have been.

Caro took another deep breath in as she eyed the oceanside bar out of her passenger-side window. And then, before she could convince herself to do the smart thing and just go home, she pulled her keys from the ignition and propelled herself out of the driver's seat and towards the wooden front doors. She allowed the momentum of her decision to push her through the doors and back into the last place on earth she wanted to be.

Even in the early evening light, the interior of the bar looked largely the same. It was still full of men and women in the same starched tan uniforms. It was still undeniably and inescapably Navy themed. It was still what some might generously describe as cozy.

Caro scanned the room, eyes searching the groups of laughing friends and jockulating sailors that dotted the room. Her eyes caught on several tanned figures with their dark hair buzzed short, her breath catching in her throat each time before they turned and revealed a nose that was too long or lips that were too thin.

She had just decided to get herself a drink before doing a walk around when, halfway through her first step, she was very nearly run over.

"Oh!" Caro exclaimed, hands shooting out to hold the shoulders of the auburn haired woman who had suddenly shot in front of her. The move was successful in keeping them from fully colliding into each other and tumbling to the floor. Instead, the other woman startled back, the drink in her hand sloshing between them as her head whipped forward from where she'd been staring over her shoulder.

The surprise on her face only grew.

"Doctor Alvarez?"

Caro blinked, her mind venturing through the haze of surprise to pin a name to the familiar face that stood before her.

"Jasmine!" Caro breathed, letting her hands fall from her patient's shoulders. "Hi."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't get any on you, did I?" Jasmine asked, eyes scanning Caro's loose floral shirt and jeans for the tell tale splotches of alcohol. Caro joined her in the quick assessment, and shook her head.

"You missed me," she said, eyes rising back to meet Jasmine's face. "How are you?"

"Good." The word was high and breezy and sounded very much like the "yeah" Jasmine offered whenever Caro asked if she'd been keeping up with stretching at home. "You?"

"I'm good too," Caro lied, offering a professional smile that seemed to put even her most nervous patients at ease. Only instead of noddign or smiling or wrapping up the conversation there, Jasmine's head tilted once more, this time more slight as her eyes also narrowed the smallest bit in assessment. She'd forgotten that Jasmine was well versed with the bedside smile. She'd probably given out plenty of them hserself. "I'm here with the office for Bryson's birthday," Caro explained, hoping to carry the conversation along and away from herself.

This seemed to successfully distract the other woman as Jasmine's eyebrows shot up. "Here?"

Caro laughed, running a hand through her hair. "He picked it out, I don't know."

"Not really the place for birthday drinks," Jasmine remarked, looking around the room, and Caro could not possibly have agreed with her any more than she did right then.

"You come here often?"

Jasmine barked out a laugh, her characteristic grin finally making an appearance. "Are you hitting on me, doctor?"

The question pulled Caro out of her head, a laugh escaping her as she felt herself relax a little, the surprise of seeing Jasmine and anxiety over being here at all leaving her for a moment. It was Jasmine's gift, she'd noticed; getting people to step out of themselves if even just for a moment. It was part of the reason Caro had come to enjoy their weekly sessions so much.

"You just seemed to know it well."

Jasmine acknowledged this with a bobble of her head. "Yeah, it's the big place to come after work on base."

Caro really should have known that. She knew Jasmine was a doctor on base and this was a Navy bar. It made all of the sense in the world for Jasmine to be here and not expect her entire chiropractor's office to be seated around one of the tables.

"Any advice, then?" Caro asked.

Jasmine's smile grew at the question, and Caro had to admit it sounded a little dumb asking for advice on how to navigate a bar, but before she could say as much, Jasmine was talking. "Yeah. Stay away from sailors, and don't put your phone on the bar."

Despite the fact that Caro was the absolute last person who needed to be warned away from Navy boys, she still felt grateful that she wasn't the only one who seemed to see through the sailors' charades.

"Thanks," Caro smiled, this one warmer and more genuine than the first she had offered, and Jasmine seemed to notice this too. "I guess I should probably work my way over to the group, but it was good to see you."

"You too," Jasmine nodded, her brow creasing as she noticed something over Caro's shoulder. "Tell Bryson happy birthday from me."

"I will," Caro answered, but she'd hardly gotten it out before Jasmine had started off, disappearing quickly in the crowd and leaving Caro alone once more.

Despite the crowd, the battle towards the bar was fairly easy and service came rather quickly. It wasn't long before Caro had a tequila soda in hand and was approaching her coworkers table. The group of three had already been here for forty-five minutes, and a couple of shot glasses and three glasses with varying levels of drink in them were scattered amongst them. It seemed that they were not too far gone though because Robin noticed her fairly quickly.

"Caro, you made it!" the office manager greeted, beaming and moving over in her seat so that Caro could slip in. "Hard time leaving the house?"

That was an understatement. Not only did she have a difficult time getting out the door of her house, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to get out of her car for a good fifteen minutes. Instead, she sat in the parking lot, staring over her steering wheel as she tried to find it in her to go inside the bar.

"There was a little drama around missing shoes. Sorry I'm so late," she apologized. Robin laughed, shaking her head knowingly at Caro as the coworkers across the table gave her looks that belied their suspicions. Gia eyed her carefully, as if she might break at any moment and the younger receptionist didn't want to be caught in the mess. Bryson, for his part, looked a bit too happy to see her; as if his large toothy smile could make up for her own discomfort.

"You're fine," he dismissed with a wave of his hand. "It's just a shame you missed the singalong."

"The singalong?" Caro repeated. If Gia had been the one to mention it, Caro might suspect that she was being messed with, but not only was Bryson too earnest to ever even think of the joke, he couldn't keep up under the pressure of continuing it.

"Some guy unplugged the jukebox and played a few songs at the piano," Gia filled in. "Him." She reached across Bryson, pointing out a man wearing a ridiculous Hawiian shirt and aviators indoors. Everything about him practically screamed Top Gun pilot, and that was before Caro even noticed the dark haired woman in the khaki uniform next to him.

Her eyes didn't linger on the pair long, too drawn to the jukebox in the corner that looked exactly the same as it had the first time she ever saw it. The urge to cross the room and greet her old friend rose in her, a wistful smile crossing her lips as she listened to it belt out "The Boys Are Back in Town".

"I know, he's cute, right?"

Caro tore her gaze away from the jukebox and back to Gia, blinking as she worked to make sense of the comment. The singer, she remembered, prompting her eyebrows to shoot up at Gia. "He looks ridiculous."

"But his voice," Bryson practically swooned. "I'm telling you, that voice alone could get someone pregnant tonight."

She felt the rustling of Robin's foot swinging under the table and into Bryson's shin, causing the man to wince.

"Has anyone brought you a drink yet?" Caro asked, choosing to breeze over the awkwardness even as Bryson reached down to rub at his leg.

"Just these two," he said, gesturing to Robin and Gia as he straightened up. "I'm eyeing out my prospects now, though. Letting my gaydar acclimate."

Gia and Caro laughed at this, Caro looking out over the bar as if she had any kind of skill in picking out men. Her eyes skipped along the different groups, hoping to catch the gaze of someone looking over at the table when instead she caught sight of an oddly familiar blonde leaning over the bar to get the bartender's attention.

Her eyebrows knit together as she tried to place where she'd seen him before, flipping through the variable rolodex in her head. It wasn't until she turned to the college years that she came up with it though, and she doubted she would have been able to place him if she had seen him anywhere else.

He was a Top Gun pilot.

A former Top Gun pilot.

"You ok?" Robin asked, and Caro blinked, turning back to the group and offering a fleeting smile.

"Yeah," she affirmed, her voice sounding distant, like it hadn't returned to the table with her. "I just thought I saw this pilot my old roommate used to hook up with."

"Really? Where?" Gia asked, sitting up in her seat to peer into the crowd even as Caro shook her head.

"It's probably not him," she said. "People don't come back to Top Gun."

The statement was met with sympathetic looks from Bryson and Robin that made Caro feel very much like coming here was a mistake. Not only did she have to deal with her own neuroses all night, but now there was this.

As if God wanted to confirm this thought, a new song came on the jukebox, the twanging chords of the intro knocking all of the air out of Caro's lungs. Her chest constricted at the sound of Van Morrison's voice picking up the first verse.

"Caro?"

Instead of looking at whoever said her name, Caro's eyes snapped to the jukebox as if by muscle memory. It was a stupid reflex, a useless one. Because she was right: people didn't come back to Top Gun. What did happen was long work weeks made high strung people ready to assume the worst and most ridiculous outcomes of totally normal coincidences. If this could even be called that.

But as her eyes landed on the brown-skinned man in the service khakis standing by the jukebox, his hair still buzzed and smile just as bright as ever, all semblance of logic and rationality escaped her.

Because this should not be happening. He could not be looking back at her across the bar right now.

"Oh my God," Caro whispered, feeling very much like she was going to throw up.

Across the table, Bryson leaned forward. "Girl, you are whiter than Gia. What's happening?"

She knew what he was saying, knew what he meant, but she couldn't manage to form any sort of response other than repeating again: "Oh my God."

Over by the jukebox, the man's smile seemed to waver slightly, as the rest of the table turned to shift their concerned looks from Caro to the direction she was looking. He gave a small, awkward wave.

"Is that…?" Gia turned around first, cutting herself off as if not wanting to speak the end into existence. It's not like they needed her to finish the question anyway. They all knew exactly what she was going to ask.

Caro nodded slowly, watching as confusion and concern overtook his features and missing Bryson's eyes widening in shock. "Holy shit."

"He's coming over here," Gia announced needlessly as the others were already watching him start to move towards the table.

Robin shifted in her seat next to Caro, trying to usher her out of the booth. "I'll head him off," she said, making a shooing motion which Caro followed on instinct, only stopping once she was standing at the edge of the seat, looking between her coworkers and the last person she wanted to see.

"No, I–no," Caro said, fumbling in her attempt to pull herself together. "I think I should…you…I'll–I'll be right back."

The other three looked at her silently, Robin looking very much like she wanted to stop her. But she didn't. Instead she pressed her lips into a line and nodded.

Caro mirrored the gesture, pausing for another moment before turning to move towards him.

The two met by the bar where the crowd was thickest and preoccupied by getting their drinks or enticing someone into coming home with them. Caro was thankful for the crowd now if only for the fact that it meant she didn't have to be stuck alone with him.

The aviator planted himself before her, a tentative smile back on his lips now that he was certain he at least had her attention.

"Hey," he greeted, brown eyes soft and excited, just like they had always been. They pinned Caro to the spot making her feel suddenly small and even more unprepared for this moment than she thought possible.

"Hi," she breathed. The word came out more as an exhale than actual language, and his lips quirked up slightly more at the sound.

"Come here often?"

It was odd, hearing the question come from him with the same words and same intention she'd had when asking Jasmine fifteen minutes ago. Yet despite the teasing lilt in his voice, the line made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Never," she managed, and he chuckled at this.

"I'm guessing you still don't talk to Top Gun pilots then?"

"What are you doing here, Mickey?"

Whether it was the question itself or the accusational tone that delivered it, the confused-concern washed the smile from Mickey's face once more. Only the corner of his mouth seemed to keep its bit of happiness, curving up just slightly into a sheepish sort of look.

"I got called back," he answered with a shrug. "Payback's here too–Reuben." He gestured to the pool tables where a group of sailors stood watching them, including the man with the ridiculous Hawiian shirt, the woman with tied up dark hair, and a familiar dark-skinned pilot who had apparently grown a mustache since she'd last seen him. "I'm sure he wants to say hi."

Caro blinked, shaking her head slightly in disbelief as she returned her attention to him. "Why'd you—I didn't think—you're back?"

"Not for good," Mickey admitted, his shoulders sinking as he said it. "Just a few weeks."

"A few weeks," she repeated.

His confusion was dwarfed by obvious concern now, and he took a moment to look at her, really look at her, eyes roving and assessing each detail of her that might have changed in the past five years. She wanted to disappear then, off into the crowd like Jasmine had or melt through the floor; whatever was fastest.

"Are you ok? You seem—" he trailed off searching for the right word but ultimately seemed unable to find it, switch gears instead to ask: "Is something wrong?"

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," Caro admitted.

Something in her face or maybe the fact that she didn't even attempt to deny that something was very obviously horrendously wrong hit Mickey, and hurt flashed in his eyes.

"I tried to text you," he said, hesitantly, and Caro's breath caught in her chest once more. He hurried to explain. "Just to tell you that I would be in town. I know we haven't spoken in a while, but I wanted to see you."

Mickey took a step towards her, and Caro leaned back, out of his reach. "Why?" This word was once more just breath, and if she had any control over her faculties at the moment, she wouldn't have even asked it. She knew why, and she didn't want it confirmed.

He shrugged. "I missed you."

She closed her eyes and turned her head away at this, unable to bear the hopeful look on his face. Like this was what she wanted to hear after all this time. Like she wanted to hear anything from him at all anymore.

"Caro–"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as right when he began to continue, Caro was jolted to the side, a cool splash and the overwhelming smell of hops hitting her at the same time.

"Oh my God!" the person who had bumped into her exclaimed as Caro looked down at her shirt to assess the damage. "I am so sorry."

Caro looked up from the dark spots of beer on her shirt, her eyes meeting Jasmine's. There was something far less apologetic in the other woman's eyes and instead more…searching.

"It's ok. It happens," Caro dismissed, pulling the wet shirt from her skin and fluttering it as if that would dry it. For his part, Mickey had darted over to the bar, gathering up a stack of cocktail napkins which he now offered to Caro. She took a few from him in exchange for a quick, tight smile and then proceeded to dab at her shirt.

"I don't think that's going to cut it," Jasmine frowned at the napkins that were already falling apart in Caro's hands. "They have paper towels in the bathroom though, and maybe we can try to rinse it?"

Caro nodded, casting a look at Mickey who seemed very much like he wanted to follow them into the bathroom if it meant that he got to continue his conversation with Caro. "I'm sorry, Mickey," she apologized. "I just–I can't."

She didn't stick around for his response. Not even when he called out her name at her back. Instead, she crossed the bar as quickly as possible, napkins pressed into her side to soak up as much beer as possible. Jasmine matched step.

"You ok?"

"I'm fine. It's an old shirt anyway–" Caro started, but Jasmine shook her head.

"No, I mean with him."

Caro looked at Jasmine, and peering into the other woman's concerned face, she started to piece together what had just happened and why she was on her way into the woman's bathroom. "I probably could have thought of a better way to get you out of there, but you looked trapped." She pulled the door to the women's bathroom open, ushering Caro inside.

Caro sighed, dumping the napkins into the trashcan by the door before moving to the closest sink to start attempting to rinse the beer from her shirt. Behind her, the door swung closed and the rapid sound of the paper towels' dispenser handle being pressed filled the bathroom.

"That's my ex," Caro finally offered, her voice more unsteady than she would have liked it to be while speaking to a patient.

"Your ex?" Jasmine repeated, her pace on the handle slowing as she met Caro's gaze in the mirror. "Like, your ex, your ex?"

Caro nodded.

"Holy shit," Jasmine swore, her hand falling from the paper towels, instead looking blankly around the bathroom as if searching for someone else to ask if they believed this shit. It took a few seconds for her to come back to herself, Caro's shirt now thoroughly damp with the tap water instead of beer. "Do you want me to kick his ass?" she asked finally, placing her hands on her hips and looking for all the world like she would.

Caro snorted. "No, getting me out of there was more than enough. Thank you, by the way."

Jasmine grimaced, tearing off what had to be at least a couple of yards of paper towels and bunching it together. "Us lady doctors need to stick together," she smiled, offering the bundle to Caro. "Especially when it comes to Navy guys."

Caro laughed at this, thinking of Mr. Simmonds who had once gone off in the waiting room about how he would rather wait forty-five minutes for Dr. Katz than be seen by "the lady doctor." Jasmine, who had also been in the waiting room, had looked straight up murderous at the comment and demanded from Bryson that her appointment with Dr. Houten be switched to the lady doctor and only ever the lady doctor from then on out.

Caro accepted the towels and began to attempt to at least alleviate some of the dripping from her shirt. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it," Jasmine said with a shake of her head. "At least not until we've successfully gotten you out of here and not just trapped in the women's bathroom."

Caro sighed, defeatedly. Not only were the paper towels not working even a little bit, but there was no way that she could stay to celebrate Bryson while she was half-soaked and Mickey was here. Jasmine was right: she had to escape.

"I'm thinking, I go out there first and run cover, and you grab your purse from your table and make a break for the front door."

Caro laughed, walking over to the trash can and throwing the useless paper towels in. "You don't have to do that."

"I know, but I'm going to."

Caro smiled as she looked at the other woman, gratitude filling her. "Thanks, Jasmine."

"I think after this, you get to call me Jas."

"Ok," Caro nodded before gesturing to herself. "Then, Caro."

Jas nodded back in agreement before giving Caro an assessing look. "So… you ready, Caro?"

She wasn't. But she never would be. Instead, Caro nodded, dumping the wet paper towels into the garbage. "Might as well be."

The WSO rejoined the group looking just as lost as he had standing alone in the middle of the bar, watching Caro be whisked away from him by some stranger. Rooster noted the look on Fanboy's face with a low whistle, the rest of their group shaking their heads in a mixture of sympathy and amusement, the exact amounts of each emotion clearly varying per person. Only Payback remained still, instead eyeing Fanboy as if he could determine exactly what was said just by looking at his back-seater.

"Shot you down pretty bad, huh?" Rooster asked, his attempt to keep the amusement from his voice clearly failing as he clapped the young aviator on the shoulder.

Coyote didn't even try to hide his own entertainment, as he offered his own commentary. "You were so confident going in," he laughed, mimicking a plane taking off with his hand. "And then…" His plane took a hard nosedive, hurtling towards an explosion which Coyote made sure to voice, his fingers wiggling in shockwaves. Rooster chuckled at this, his hand remaining on Fanboy who had yet to say anything or even shrug him off.

"You ok?" Payback asked.

The sound of genuine concern prompted Phoenix to turn and face him, her eyebrows furrowed together even deeper at this. Even Rooster seemed to take notice of the tone, offering Payback a quick glance before looking back at Fanboy.

"Hey, it happens to the best of us," the pilot said, shaking Fanboy's shoulder a bit before letting his hand drop to his side.

The other man still didn't say anything, just nodded.

"What's up with him?" Phoenix asked, the question directed to Payback and sounding very much as if Fanboy wasn't even there. Which, to be fair, he didn't really seem to be. His gaze had been drawn off towards the bathrooms, his focus unwavering as the corner of his lips pulled down into a frown.

Payback pulled his eyes from Fanboy to Phoenix. "That's his ex."

"Your ex?" Rooster's eyebrows shot up as Coyote let out another laugh.

"Man, you know you gotta run game before you hit up an ex," Coyote remarked, shaking his head. "C'mon."

This comment seemed to be the first one to actually reach Fanboy as he returned his attention to the group. "She didn't answer any of my texts. I mean, we haven't been in touch, but she didn't even open them or anything," he shook his head, seeming to run out of steam or ability to resist Caro's magnetic draw. Or maybe he just knew that the girl's bathroom door was about to open as it did, Caro and the girl who had spilled her drink all over Fanboy's ex, coming out.

Caro chanced a look over to the jukebox and then towards their section of the bar, her shoulders straightening as she noticed Fanboy's attention on her. Her head snapped forwards and she took off quickly to her table of friends, weaving determinedly through the other groups of bar patrons.

"She probably blocked you," Phoenix said bluntly, her eyes tracking the girl's progress as well, watching as she arrived at the booth, grabbing her bag from the seat and offering a few quick words.

Everyone reacted to this differently. Coyote snickered, Rooster grimaced, and Bob winced in sympathy. Fanboy's attention was ripped away from Caro, the full desperation of his look levied against Phoenix who seemed almost…annoyed.

"So what did you do?" she asked, arms crossing across her chest and a single brow lifting up.

"Nothing!" Fanboy defended, and while he did sound understandably offended, there was also the tiniest bit of doubt in his voice. Just enough for someone who had spent hours upon hours with him to notice.

"C'mon she had to have dumped you for a reason," Coyote pressed, joining in on Phoenix's interrogation.

Fanboy's head whipped to Coyote. "She didn't dump me," he snarled. The small display of aggression seemed to take the bit of energy and life he had out of him, as his shoulders slumped back down. Fanboy dropped his gaze to the ground shaking his head. "We just broke up at the end of Top Gun. I had to go back to my squadron and she was going to her grad program."

"So, it was a summer fling thing?" Rooster asked, placatingly.

Fanboy shrugged looking helpless to find the words to describe exactly what had transpired five years ago.

Payback shook his head. "Nah. It was more than a fling."

This confirmation was enough for Phoenix, her arms dropping to her sides as she looked up at Payback. "That's right, you were at Top Gun together," she remembered.

Payback nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, and they seemed legit. I was surprised you guys called it quits."

Fanboy shook his head, offering another shrug. "It was the plan," he said. His gaze wandered from Payback to the direction he had last seen Caro, this time finding her at the door, tugging it open and disappearing outside in one quick motion. "It's what she wanted."

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