#defying gravity concert

[free-2bmee]

help!! ISO: DEFYING GRAVITY: THE MUSIC OF STEPHEN SCHWARTZ | 13 February 2016 | Theatre Royal Sydney

Pleaseeeeeee does anyone know if a video of this concert exists????? I have an audio, but would KILLLL for a video of it!!! 

TIA!!

[maurypovichofficial2]

and when glee's version of defying gravity clears the movie version i'll be here chuckling

i actually dont like that version never have sounds very karaoke its actually one of Glee's worst covers to me

[jdms-flat-ass]

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream, and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, sideways, upside down, back to front, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried, against the wall, outside, in a train, on the train tracks, on a plane, in the car, in the dumpster, on a motorcycle, on the back of a truck, next to the urinal, on a trampoline, in the pool, in the garden, bent over 180 degrees, in the basement, against the window, having the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, mouth watering, ass clenching, ass licking, nose sniffing, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, thigh quaking, knuckle cracking, booty ripping, jaw dropping, jaw tearing, hair pulling, teeth chattering, mind boggling, soul snatching. overstimulating, vile, sloppy, coma inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip bleeding, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, stimky, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone crushing, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, Noah’s ark, devious, scrumptious, stupefying, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head spinning, soul evaporating, vulcano erupting, sweat dripping, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, expecto patronim, expelliarmus, lip locking, skin shedding, eye twitching, pussy popping, nail chipping, back shots, spectacular, insanity, panty dropping, magnificent, unique, extraordinarv, splendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming like rabies, from the red sea to the demilitarized zone, in front of the president, the FBI listening in, while riding the camel, in outer-space, with cock-big19, with a broken leg, bare-face, on the stage at a concert…

[violettduchess]

Please can I have 16 with Keith sorry if it is late thank uou and congratulations for the milestone you deserve them all 🎉🎊🤗🙏

A/N: Hi @queengiuliettafirstlady and thank you for the request! This also fulfills an anon request for breathless kiss with Leonardo or Silvio (I did both!)

WC: 1335

Keith

Your horses' hooves churn the earth of the field underfoot as it flies through the tall grass like a skiff on the water. The wind tugs at your hair, your clothing, caresses your skin with cool fingers. The Jadean countryside rolls by in a blur of emerald green and sky blue. You and your steed move as one, racing towards your goal: the small pond on the edge of the palace grounds. Keith’s voice travels the wind to reach you and a breathless laugh escapes your chest as you hear him begging his horse to hurry up.

But he’s too slow. The pond comes into view and you leap triumphantly down from your swift mare just seconds before Keith pulls the reins of his snow-colored stallion. “I won!” you manage to say, your breath staccato as you struggle to catch it. He slides off his mount, giving it a gentle pat on the neck. “Good try, boy,” he murmurs. The horse joins its friend, drinking mouthfuls of cool, refreshing water. The Jade Prince approaches you, golden eyes alight with admiration. “I believe the winner traditionally gets a prize.”

Your poor heart has no chance, its quickened rhythm only increasing as Keith removes his pristine white gloves, tucking them into the pocket of his forest green coat. He steps towards you, cupping your face in his bare hands, framing it with his strong fingers. You meet his gaze, naked yearning painted in sunrise across your face. This gives the usually shy prince the boost of confidence he needs as he leans down to kiss you.

He is sweeter than iced cream on a hot day, gentler than the twilight when it cradles the day-worn earth. He kisses you like it is an honor, a privilege. His hands stroke your skin, almost trembling in disbelief that you would allow this, as if worried that you may disappear at any moment like a burst of dandelion seeds in a summer breeze. 

You have imagined this moment a thousand times since meeting him, and yet nothing you have ever dreamed comes close. When you part, he is as breathless as you are.

Leonardo

You’re sitting in one of the most beautiful concert halls in the world. Golden, ornamental lamps, plush red velvet and mahogany seating, balconies with intricate designs carved from the most expensive wood. It is the incarnation of everything lush and elegant. But even its majestic beauty isn’t what has you breathlessly on the edge of your seat. The story told through the grace of the ballet playing out on the gigantic stage before you has captured your imagination completely. 

You watch, hand over heart, as the heroine dances her way through the dark forest, intent on saving the man she loves. The lead dancer, in her glittering white, leaps and twirls her way through the dozens of others dressed as black shadows. You gasp when they hold her, lift her and spin, menacing despite their beauty.

Leonardo reaches over, covering your hand with his. You offer him a quick squeeze in acknowledgement but don’t look away. While you’re spell-bound by the ballet, he is spell-bound by you. Your face is flushed with emotion, your hand pressed against your heart as if keeping it inside your chest. You look radiant, bathed in the dim, wavering light of the concert hall. The heroine defeats the shadows, reaching her prince only to have to battle the devil himself. What follows is a gravity-defying duel, a dance between good and evil, innocence and sin.

It is only when the heroine defeats the prince of darkness and leaps into her lover’s arms that you tear your gaze away from the stage to look at Leonardo. “Isn’t it beautiful?” All he sees is your face, your eyes bright with unshed tears, your heart racing with the adrenaline of the show, dusting your skin with warmth. And he can’t help it. He leans forward, capturing your lips with his. A moment passes where you are still, the emotion of the story ebbing to let in this new flood of emotion sparked by his kiss.

And then you’re melting into him, the tension that had held you on the edge of your seat dissipating. The heroine embraces her rescued prince and you wrap your arms around Leonardo, kissing him back with the full-force of your racing heart.

Silvio

You have to win. The waves roll over your head as you swim beneath their pull, racing your way to the shore. Your heart hammering steadily in your chest, a coxswain giving the muscles of your legs and arms the rhythm they need to keep up a steady pace. But Silvio is right behind you. You can sense it. You can feel his nearness, the force of his determination to win, conducted through the water like electricity. 

You were shocked when he took the bet. The swim out to the buoy had been relaxing, both you enjoying the cold water and warm sun. But then he had gotten cocky, telling you what a fantastic swimmer he is, “the best. No one fucking faster.” And his bragging had needled you so much, you opened your mouth, claiming you could beat him. Sure your swimming was limited to rivers and ponds, but it couldn’t be that much harder out in the ocean. Could it? Those brilliant blue eyes had flashed at the challenge. “What’s it gonna cost you when I win?” “A truth. No matter what I ask, you have to answer honestly.” He regarded you for a moment, body swaying with the rhythm of the waves, one hand on the red and white buoy. “It works both ways,” he finally said. “You gotta tell the truth when I win. Which I will.”

You don’t even know what you will ask him but it doesn’t matter now as you propel yourself through the salty water. You just want to win. To see that smug smile on those damned beautiful lips disappear. So you swim as you have never swum before, willing yourself forward towards the beach. But try as you might, Silvio is a child of Benitoite, raised by the wind and the waves. He cuts through the water like Poseidon just as the sandy beach comes into view. By the time you reach the fine white sand, he’s already sitting there, breathing hard as the ocean’s foam tugs at his legs. You collapse on your back into the sand beside him, breathless as you look up at the endless expanse of blue sky.

“I won. So I get to ask a question.” He turns, looking down at where you’re laying, cheeks flushed with exertion, chest rising and falling as you claim control over your lungs. You can only nod, feeling the way the sand softly cushions the back of your head. He leans down, silver hair dark with sea water, eyes sapphire-bright. “Do you wanna kiss me?” What an unfair question. Because you have to answer it honestly and you’re not sure you are ready for that. But your bet has you staring up at him, his face and shoulders glistening with water droplets, and your heart bounces off the ropes like a boxer ready to go another round of frantic beating.

“Yes.” The word is so small but it  feels like it could change your world. Silvio grins slowly. “Knew it.” And he leans back. You blink. He’s not making a move to kiss you and a very irritated part of you realizes he only wanted the admission. Not today, sir. Like a cresting wave, you surge upwards and pull him down, kissing him passionately. He goes stiff with shock. But then his body takes over before his mind can ruin anything and he lowers himself down, the length of him pressed against you. As the cool ocean breaks around your entwined bodies, as his mouth returns your kisses with a heat that feels it may burn you alive, you realize you were right. This moment will change the world as you know it. For the better.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @bubblexly

[waitingtobelit]

Title: In Midnights, In Cups of Coffee Characters/Pairings: Evan Buckley/Tommy Kinard Rating: Teen for language. Genre: Angst, fluff, queer themes. Summary: Movie nights are mostly held at Tommy’s place for several reasons.

Mostly, though, Buck gravitates towards Tommy’s house more and more these days because Tommy’s house feels more like home. He loves cuddling with Tommy on the couch, the two of them sharing a couple of beers and some popcorn, and sometimes a blanket thrown over them. Honestly? Movie nights with Tommy might be Buck’s favorite place in the world.

--

Buck and Tommy watch Rent together and have a lot of feelings about it and each other.

Notes: Title comes from "Seasons of Love" from Rent.

This was written for bucktommy positivity week, prompt one: what they love most about each other and after I got inspired by listening to "Seasons of Love" and getting caught up in my Rent feelings! This could probably technically also apply to the hobbies and dates prompt but I have another fic I'm working on for that one. :3

There are spoilers for Rent overall and implied death of a character from Rent but nothing explicit.

For @bucktommypositivityweek prompt one: What they love most about each other.

In Midnights, In Cups of Coffee

Buck’s never been totally into musicals but he also hasn’t totally disliked them, either. Maddie used to play some Broadway soundtracks when she would drive him to school; she was really into Phantom of the Opera and something about some guy stealing a loaf of bread and miserable people, from what he remembers. He might have given her some good old fashioned Brotherly Teasing about her taste in music every now and then but he always preferred her taste in music to that of his parents, the most stale white bread of WASP easy listening that he’s fairly certain they play on an endless loop on Spotify in Hell. If Hell exists, that is.

There were other musicals, too; he memorized the lyrics to “Defying Gravity” unintentionally with how often Maddie played the Wicked soundtrack in the car. He may or may not have sometimes mumbled the lyrics to himself in the shower when he needed a moment to stop thinking about the weight of his parents looking right through him.

But overall, yeah, no. Buck’s never considered himself much of a musical person. Hen is the one who tells him about Rent after a particularly long and draining shift. She tells him that she thinks he’ll like it, and that he better text her immediately with all of his feelings after he watches the movie or listens to the soundtrack. (Hen insists he does both, and she also insists that he watch the live concert special that played on TV. But, also, he damn well better text her once he educates himself!)

So tonight, for movie night with Tommy, Buck suggests Rent as their movie of choice. Usually he’s happy to go along with whichever movie Tommy suggests, glad to continue his “cinematic education” as Tommy calls it. Tommy seems happy to go along with Buck’s suggestion; he nods and comments on how he always meant to get around to watching Rent himself but struggled and ultimately set it aside for later while he was still fighting his way out of the closet. (And this is one of Buck’s favorite things about Tommy; he’ll reveal himself through conversation, letting Buck get to know him on a deeper, more intimate level, without any expectation or pressure for Buck to reciprocate, although, of course, Buck always tries to do so, wanting to meet Tommy where he is.)

Movie nights are mostly held at Tommy’s place for several reasons: Tommy has the larger, more comfortable couch (Buck could seriously live in those cushions for days, if not years, and has fallen asleep easily in the middle of a movie on more than one occasion), Tommy has the actual collection of movies, both physical and otherwise, and Tommy has the better television. Mostly, though, Buck gravitates towards Tommy’s house more and more these days because Tommy’s house feels more like home. He loves cuddling with Tommy on the couch, the two of them sharing a couple of beers and some popcorn, and sometimes a blanket thrown over them. Honestly? Movie nights with Tommy might be Buck’s favorite place in the world.

Tonight, they have Tommy’s favorite craft beer, a local brewery that specializes in utilizing local ingredients and combining them into unique flavors that even Buck has to admit taste pretty damn amazing. Tommy is slowly but surely is weaning him off of his “frat boy” beers, talking about the benefits of craft beer every chance he gets. His enthusiasm for craft beer in the way he talks about ingredients with his hands and the way he shares all of the details about the history of all his favorite brands is as convincing as the taste of the beer itself, honestly. And Buck adores Tommy for it, so the fact that they have his favorite craft beer for a movie night in which Buck picks the movie? Means the world to Buck. And judging from the way Tommy’s eyes, so blue and so mesmerizing, linger on him, his face scrunched up in a smile? Buck likes to believe he isn’t the only one.

Buck cooks fried mac and cheese rolls for their movie snack; seeing his cooking efforts next to Tommy’s beer warms him like he’s just spent the day out in the August sun, trying to catch some waves with salt water clinging to his skin. He can’t keep from smiling at the sight; the way both the food and the drinks spell out home without words.

Tommy turns to him, leaning in close to press a soft, sweet kiss to his lips. “I think we’re in for our best movie night yet,” he says, looking like a Botticelli angel in the glow of the lamps on his side tables, his hair curly and free of product and his perfect mouth wide in a soft, tender smile. And he’s all Buck’s; Buck gets to have him all to himself. He leans in for another kiss, just because.

“I think you’re right,” Buck tells him, pulling back to settle into the couch. Tommy grabs his hand, intertwining their fingers together, as he settles himself and presses play on the movie.

Buck has chills from the opening scene and the opening song; a brightness like hope unfurls within his soul, fluttering upwards with each lyric sung and the beginning of the story unfolding. Just from the words alone, he feels seen. Tommy’s hand squeezes his; out of the corner of his eyes, he catches sight of the same kind of brightness in Tommy’s eyes.

Rent unfolds like a kaleidoscope; vivacious and full of soul, a cry of defiance and a love story – an utter act of the opposite of war. Buck finds himself unable to look away, greedily drinking in every song and every scene as though this story and these characters are the gold turning the cracks in his soul into art. He leans his head onto Tommy’s shoulder, wanting to soak up all of this with the man he loves. Tommy leans his head against Buck’s; Buck feels Tommy’s smile pressing into the side of his head the same way Mimi asks Roger to light her candle and the same way Angel and Collins promise to cover each other.

Buck sees himself in Maureen; he sees himself in Mimi. He seems himself in Roger and Mark, and he sees himself in Angel and Collins. He feels seen; free. This is community; this is love. You don’t find it son; you make it.

By the time “I’ll Cover You (Reprise)” comes around, Buck is a complete wreck; tears falling like heavy rain down his face as he shakes, the hand that isn’t clinging desperately to Tommy’s pressing against his own face as though he might be able to press his grief back into himself and swallow it down. Tommy’s tears land on his shirt just as his own land on Tommy’s. He holds onto Angel, Collins, and their love for one another the way he holds onto Tommy’s hands.

By the time the movie ends and the credits roll, Buck feels both hollowed out and also renewed; the glass half-empty but also half-full. His whole face feels raw; hell, his whole soul feels raw. He feels alive but also like he’s just risen from the dead after having his heart torn to shreds.

Silence lingers between them, charged and crackling, like embers about to turn even more incendiary. Buck is about to make an attempt to speak when Tommy speaks first.

“I can’t believe it took me so long to watch Rent,” Tommy admits, pulling back to meet Buck’s gaze directly. “I feel like I really could have used that movie when I was younger.” He speaks into words the exact feelings Buck finds himself wrestling with internally; he can’t help but turn to glance up at Tommy, agreement shining in his tear-stained eyes and equally tear-stained smile. He feels like a complete mess but Tommy, pressing a kiss into the top of his head, likes him anyway. He’s the luckiest man in the whole goddamned world.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “I think I could have used that movie when I was younger, too.” Maybe he would have understood his bisexuality sooner; maybe he would’ve only felt a spark leading to a fireworks revelation (or fake mouth static by way of helicopter rescue) later on in life. But he wonders how his life would have turned out if his younger self learned that family can be people you choose; that creation is so much more potent than self-destruction. He wonders if maybe he could have saved himself some trouble and a few scars along the way.

Tommy squeezes Buck’s hand before bringing it up to his mouth to press a kiss against the back of it; Buck shivers in response. Tommy leans in and kisses him softly; Buck returns the kiss with a quiet gasp of relief. Tommy comforts him, sturdy and warm like a weighted blanket. (Also, he realizes, he owes Hen at least two rounds of wine and beer and a college essay worth of texts summing all of his big damn feelings about Rent.)

“Thank you for suggesting Rent for movie night,” Tommy tells him, earnest and soft. “Can I pay you back in a thousand sweet kisses?”

Buck laughs, tilting forward to press his forehead against Tommy’s. He squeezes their hands together again.

“Only if I can pay you back in five hundred twenty-five thousand and six hundred kisses myself.”

[sillyname30]

Darren and Mia really made the best out of their couple weekend in Provincetown: Hedwig, Kamala Harris event, concert, piano bar. (I don't really know if they left the kids at home, I just assume.)

You can tell how much fun they had. Most fun for me: the piano bar - Defying Gravity. Not the best version I heard, but it was funny and dirty. It made me laugh. How people can see them interact like that and still think it's fake and Darren hates Mia is beyond me. They have such good chemistry and a sexy vibe between them.

[spid3rpunksimp]

Hi! This is my first time requesting, you may ignore if you felt uncomfortable 🫶🏻

May I request a Black! Reader x Hobie please? The reader is actually Mile's older sister and also in a band (a hella good drummer if you don't mind👀) Tysm!

Alright I usually don’t want to do these cause I want everyone to be able to read my stuff no matter their differences but because it’s a Miles’s sister sorta thing I’ll do it

Hobie brown x fem! Black! Reader

Beat of the drums

You liked the drums. NO, you loved them. The way that you could hit them and let out all your anger on them without a care in the world made you feel like life is just a little bit easier. You often did it whenever Miles was gone. Being his older sister, you two did fight, but you loved him. You were only a year older than him, and you knew how hard he was trying to please your parents.

While you were caught up in your taughts you didn't even realize your phone buzzing quickly. The drums had your full attention. As you hit the drums in front of you harder and harder, pounding the bottom drum, you eventually heard a loud "Y/N" coming from the kitchen in the same voice of Mrs. Morales, your mom.

You quickly dropped the drum sticks and ran outside of your room to listen to her request, knowing shes probably been calling your name for the past 30 minutes. "Uhh-Yeah, sorry mom, what'd you need?" you said to her as she put her hands on her hips and looked at you. "Mija, do you know what time it is? You have your little concert thing in 45 minutes."

Your eyes popped open as you realized the times. "Oh sh-crap! Sorry mom, I gotta go." you said as you ran into your room grabbing your car keys and your phone, 10 calls from your band mate, and best friend, Kylie. You ran through the house out the door as you pressed the call back button, her voice erupting from the phone almost immediately. "Girl, where the fuck are you?" she said in what sounded like a panicked voice. "I'm sorry I got caught up in playing, I'm on my way."

As you pulled into the parking lot of where you were going to be playing you felt surprised that you weren't pulled over, you were 100% speeding the entire time. Looking at the time you realized you had 20 minutes to get ready, praying that they had already practiced without you.

"Look who finally decided to show up." you heard the familiar voice of your brother behind you. Wipping your head around you began to explain yourself. "Miles, I got caught up in playing don't ev-" immediately you stopped what you were saying as an older man was standing next to him. He was tall and skinny, however he seemed to be pretty strong. He had awesome large, gravity defying wicks that you could not miss. He was wearing a black vest with many different home made pins. He was wearing black ripped jeans and a band shirt. "Who's this?" you asked Miles with a questioning facial expression. "Oh. This is Hobie." he said as he smacked his back, giving him a smile.

"Nice to meet 'cha, luv." he said as he gave you a guy nod, looking you in the eyes. He had a very noticeable British accent, you just assumed he was a transfer student or his parents moved not too long ago. You felt your face get warm as you looked back at Miles and then back at Hobie,"Nice to meet you Hobie, I'm Y/N and I'm about to be late so sorry but I gatta go." you said as you turned and speed walk-ran over to the backstage doors.

Opening them you were met by groans of releaf as your band walked over to you. "Where have you been?!" one of your friends asked you as you walked past them and put your stuff down. "Traffic." you responded, the image of Hobie stuck in your mind."

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As you walked out of the backstage doors, you let out a sigh of relief and began to head over to your car, ready to go to bed. 'Should I get an Uber? I mean I am kinda tired. Nah, I'm good' you thought to yourself as you neared your car but began to hear the sound of someone jogging up to you. Turning around you pulled out your tazzer which you practically carried with you everywhere only to see Hobie hold his hands up and back away a little bit. Putting your tazzer down you gave him a tired smile,"Sorry, I thought you were some sorta creep." you said turning around and going to unlock your car and put your stuff inside. "Its 'ight, luv. Just came to say that was some bloody good drummin I heard ya doin" he said as he gave you a smirk. The heat of your cheeks coming back.

"Oh, thank you. I didn't do the best tonight cause of the rush to get here but I mean, it wasn't horrible." you said as you put your hand on one hip and leaned over to the side a bit, resting your body weight on one foot. "Do ya mind if I get ya number?" you heard him abruptly say in a kind tone. Your eyes went wide as you looked for any sense of joking in his expression. "You're joking right? What for, ya gonna ask me on a date or something?" you said in a joking tone as you felt your skin begin to burn. "Ma'be. Ya never know." he said as he shrugged his shoulders and held out his phone, already opened and on the contact page.

You grabbed it and put in your number giving the phone back after you were done. "Thanks." he said as he gave his phone a toothy grin. "No problem." you said as you turned to get into your car, not being able to take this experience any longer.

As you sat into you car you felt your wrist get tugged on as Hobie pulled you back out and kissed you on the cheek. "Make sure ya get to bed, ight? Ya need tha rest." he said as he let go of you and stepped back allowing you to get into your car and drive away. You simply nodded at him in return before getting in thought.

Oh what were you going to tell Miles

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I'm so sorry if anything in this sounds offensive or racist or if it wasn't what you wanted. I am not personally black but I do have friends of color and I used how they and their parents act for this once again I'm so sorry.

[kirnet]

an infamous fic. 1.2k words.

Orion Quinn was not invited out often.

What was the word his coworkers used? “Unsociable.” Orion Quinn was unsociable. He hardly smiled, he never danced, and he almost always turned down any invitation to get to know his coworkers in a casual setting.

And yet, he was here, nursing an overpriced IPA in the crowded corner booth of a dive bar. Some band was setting up on the sorry excuse for a stage in a mad scramble, untangling wires and tripping over them anyway. That was the only reason he had been coaxed out: work. Benjamin swore by this band, a name Orion couldn’t even remember, but he had yet to say anything about the actual music. “The lead singer is insane,” he laughed into his drink.

Marty snorted. “Yeah, insanely hot.”

Orion spared the singer in question a glance. She was currently engaged in a battle with the mic stand, toned arms on display as she tried to adjust it to her short height, her platformed boots barely helping. In fact, almost all of her was on display. Black denim shorts that barely went below her crotch, a strappy black bralette that Orion couldn’t figure out how she had put on, black fishnets, lipstick, nails. All black. Even the tattooed bands around both her wrists. The only pop of color was the length of auburn hair that tumbled down her back. She stuck her tongue out when the guitarist laughed at her.

“She almost killed a guy the last time I was here. Just demolished his face.” Benjamin whistled. “Took two security guards to drag her off. You could see all of her rings on his face when they carried him out.”

Orion frowned, already bored with the subject. Usually, he would never attend a concert like this. Metal, hardcore, whatever they were supposed to be, was not his taste. The screams grated against his ears, and the rowdiness of the crowds did nothing to encourage his participation. But he was in desperate need of new talent. “Why did they invite her back?”

“You can’t deny the crowd they bring in.”

It was true. The small area around the stage was packed, everyone pushing to be in front. Even where he sat in the back people were finding a way to jostle his elbow, threatening the safety of his drink. Most of the patrons were dressed like the lead singer, though a few sported the same tee-shirt, obviously hand painted: two curved lines with a crude semi circle in between them. Orion was very aware of the crisp white shirt he wore, though the top two buttons were undone.

The bartender, at least, seemed happy, her tip jar already overflowing.

A hush fell over the crowd as the opening notes of a guitar started. It was light at first, complex, like thousands of petals softly falling to the ground.

And then all peace came crashing down.

Marty bobbed his head beside Orion as the song picked up, the combined spell of every instrument whipping the crowd into a frenzy. The singer remained silent, not attempting to hide her smugness as she watched the crowd, before eventually parting her lips.

Orion had to admit, she was good. A little rough around the edges, maybe, and he had more than a few notes for what every member could improve upon, but the skill was obviously there. Her voice danced from low to high, defying gravity as she threw herself about the stage. More than a few times she’d run her fingers down between her breasts, down her sides, coming to a stop just above the hem of her shorts before she’d turn and trail over her backside. Not subtle at all, but with the way the crowd surged to touch her legs, she didn’t need to be.

He watched for a song, then two, then turned back to his beer, wondering if it would be worth it to fight his way to the bar for another.

The concert continued, and Orion occasionally tapped his finger against the lip of his bottle, but he more often checked his watch. For a genre he disliked, he was grudgingly surprised that they had even held his attention at all, but his time could be better spent elsewhere.

And then she screamed.

Orion Quinn had listened to a lot of music. He knew technique when he heard it. And the singer certainly had it, the growls well projected. Her voice would be protected for a long time.

With his gaze on the table in front of him, Orion had missed the frenzied look that had crept into her eyes, the stage lights flaring her pupils to life. Her hair was wildfire behind her, catching everything alight as she violently whipped her head about. And when she started singing again, her voice was honey smooth, soothing any wounds that the scream had left when it sunk its claws into his mind.

The musicians picked up, their hands a blur as the tempo reached a maddening pace. Sweat rolled down the singer’s exposed skin. Her eyes were unfocused, unseeing, but her mouth continued to move and she continued to dance, no longer aware of the crowd in front of her. “Possessed” was the only word that could form in Orion’s thoughts. It was almost Bacchian, his pulse racing as the crowd moved with her, beholden to her every command.

The singer screamed again, and Orion’s heart shattered.

Her voice frayed, heartbreak evident in every note. There was no way to verbalize it but to scream, but to let the crowd feast on the carrion of her love. Technique was all but abandoned. The music was desperate now, begging for any release as it continued to soar. The singer collapsed to her knees, her high note reaching for a god that would not answer her.

And then it stopped. The music faded out, and the guitarist shakily reached for his water. The singer remained on her knees, her chest heaving as the mist slowly lifted from her eyes. And then she bent forward, her forehead touching the stage floor, a last prayer at the altar.

When she rose, she was as she had been at the very beginning, winking and throwing up her hands and soaking in the ear-splitting noise. “Give it up for Jazzy on the drums!” she yelled after gulping down water and dumping the rest of it over her head. “Rowan on the guitar! Devyn on bass! Iris on keyboard!” She pointed to each one in turn as she hopped around, giving them all a chance to put on their own displays.

She stepped to the edge of the stage, smirking as someone wrapped their arms around her boot. “And motherfucking Stoja on vocals! We’re Nocturna Inferno!” It was a miracle that he could hear over the roar of noise. “Someone buy us a fucking drink!”

“Not bad, right?” Benjamin coaxed, nudging Orion with his elbow.

Dumbly, he released his vice grip on his beer bottle. “They could be better,” he answered.

They could be. God, they could be. Benjamin rolled his eyes and mumbled something to Marty, but Orion’s focus was squarely on Stoja, who had hopped up on the bar, a gorgeous woman resting her elbows on her meaty thighs.

They had yet to meet, but he knew her, knew who she was behind that dazzling smile.

And if he had a say, the whole world would know her, too.

[natlacentral]

DALLAS LIU SEES YOUR TIKTOK THIRST-TRAP EDITS OF HIM

Dallas Liu may be playing the Zuko in Netflix’s live-action adaptation of Avatar: The Last Airbender, but you won’t catch him with the Fire Nation prince’s restrictive, gravity-defying ponytail in real life. 

“I would never, ever out of my own personal choice rock the ponytail. It’s a haircut that not even cosplayers are willing to take on,” he tells NYLON. “I can gladly say that I would not recommend it to anyone.” But the 22-year-old actor does admit to what fans of the original animated series have known since the show debuted back in 2015: “The ponytail does look super badass on screen.”

Liu says he knew the challenge of bringing such a beloved character to life, but not only did he grow up watching the animated series and loving the Fire Nation prince for his fierce loyalty, but the show inspired him to start practicing martial arts. Ahead, Liu takes on the NYLON 19, revealing his thoughts on ghosts (or “spirits,” as he prefers to call them), TikTok thirst-trap edits of himself, and more.

1. WHAT’S YOUR ASTROLOGICAL SIGN (AND DO YOU BELIEVE IN IT)?

I am a Leo! Unfortunately, I don’t believe in it because of my experience meeting people with the same birthday, but us being different personality-wise.

2. DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOSTS (AND HAVE YOU EVER SEEN ONE)?

Yes, most definitely. Although I think the word “spirits” would be a better way to define it. I’ve never seen one — thank God — but I have felt uneasy in very old hotels or rooms that have a very long history.

3. WHO WOULD BE THE THREE HEADLINERS OF THE MUSIC FESTIVAL OF YOUR DREAMS?

Dominic Fike, Beach House, and Sade.

4. WHAT'S A BAD HABIT OF YOURS THAT YOU'VE BEEN MEANING TO FIX?

Honestly, I’m so bad at parking my car. Not that I’m bad at driving, but when it comes to parallel parking or even in a parking lot, I don’t put much thought into it.

5. WHAT WAS THE LAST INTERNET RABBIT HOLE YOU WENT DOWN?

I spend too many nights doom-scrolling on Instagram or TikTok, but it was probably a compilation of Avatar: The Last Airbender lore.

6. DESCRIBE YOUR WORST DATE IN THREE WORDS OR PHRASES.

Short, McDonald’s, Black Ice Car Freshener

7. WHAT WAS THE LAST DM YOU RECEIVED?

My friend sent me a TikTok thirst-trap edit of myself this morning which was interesting.

8. IF YOU COULD BE IN ANY MUSIC VIDEO, WHAT WOULD IT BE?

I would have to say either the music video for Bow Wow’s “Let Me Hold You” or Chris Brown’s “Yo (Excuse Me Miss)” just because the music videos in the ‘00s were just built differently.

9. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CONCERT, AND WHAT ARE YOUR MEMORIES OF IT?

Daniel Caesar performing in LA for his Case Study 01: Tour. It was my first one, so I remember everything about it. At the time, he was taking the music industry by storm and I was a major fan, so that concert was everything to me. I also was introduced to how much of a different experience listening to live music is.

10. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE MOVIE AS A KID?

The Polar Express.

11. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE MEME/INTERNET JOKE AND WHY?

The personality that comes with wearing a fedora. It’s always funny to me and forever will be. Maybe one day I’d get to play a character that wears a fedora. Maybe Zuko.

12. WHAT'S YOUR GO-TO BREAKUP SONG?

“I Gotta Find Peace of Mind” by Lauryn Hill.

13. WHAT IS ONE THING EVERYONE SHOULD BUY THAT IS UNDER $10?

A sweet latte with oat milk from Blue Bottle. A must. Just try it. It’s so good. I could live off of it.

14. WHAT PIECE OF CLOTHING FROM HIGH SCHOOL DO YOU WISH YOU KEPT?

My vintage Green Day shirt. It had the perfect shade of a faded black and the fit of it was immaculate.

15. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PAIR OF SHOES THAT YOU OWN, AND WHY?

Military boots because they look the coolest.

16. WHAT IS YOUR GO-TO SAD SONG?

Anything by Elliott Smith or Duster.

17. WHAT REALITY SHOW WOULD YOU MOST LIKE TO APPEAR ON?

Love Island UK.

18. WHAT IS YOUR BEST BEAUTY TIP OR TRICK?

Korean skincare products.

19. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FAST-FOOD PLACE, AND WHAT’S YOUR ORDER?

Wingstop: four lemon pepper classic and four original hot classic, all flats. Lemon pepper seasoned fries cooked well done. A side of ranch and bleu cheese. Root beer.

[monstrousfemale]

Some time in the mid 90s, Eddie shoves Steve, Nancy, and Robin into his van, and he drives them all up to Indie. He takes them to a bar he heard about from some guys who came to a Corroded Coffin concert. It's a hidden-ish place, up on the top floor of a business building, in the middle of nowhere. When they arrive, the elevator is down, and they have to take the stairs, up seven floors. By the time they reach it, they all want to kill Eddie for making them come here. But the dance floor is full, and the music is good, and the drinks are cheap.

Robin and Nancy dance all night, laughing and pulling the weirdest moves, not caring what anyone else thinks. By far, though, their favorite place is the smokers' area. There's a small balcony off to the side, that's constantly so jampacked with smokers and people taking a break from the loud music, that Nancy honestly thinks it defies gravity a little bit. She and Robin, Eddie, Steve make it their meeting point, so as the evening evolves into late night, and eventually early morning, they meet out there to check in, make sure everyone's on the same page.

They're all drunk and giddy and glad to be out here, somewhere no one knows them, somewhere the shadow of Hawkins doesn't seem to overtake. There's a safety glass encasing the balcony, so the drunken patrons don't end up over the edge, and at 4am Eddie lights up the last of the joints he'd brought with him, and Steve leans heavily on his shoulder. Robin leans on the glass, looking out over the roof of the building, up at the full moon. The night air brings them all down to earth a bit. Nancy stands by her side, lets her elbow brush against Robin's.

They swap the joint around, and when it's smoked through Steve lights up a regular cigarette. Robin scrunches up her nose, complains about the smell. But Nancy takes a curious drag, lets the bad taste wash into her mouth, blows the smoke into the air. It feels good to be there, it's safe, she doesn't have to worry about the fact that she's not a smoker.

They watch Steve and Eddie sway together to a stupid pop song none of them know, dancing and bumping into people who are also around smoking. Robin looks at Nancy, takes in her face. She looks like she's glowing, lit up from within. The moonlight suits her. Nancy's makeup is mostly gone from all the dancing, but her eyes are still standing out from the dark eyeshadow she'd put on.

Robin asks her "you good?" with laughter spilling around the edges of the words, because Nancy is trying to sing along when she clearly doesn't know the lyrics, and it's mostly gibberish.

"So good!" Nancy tells her, excited, brilliant.

Robin wants to kiss her, but doesn't want to taste the cigarette on her tongue. Offers her a sip of her drink, which Nancy gulps down. It is a bright orange something or another, too watery, not enough vodka, but it tastes like alcoholic fruit juice, and Robin likes it just fine. She leans into Nancy's space when she puts the drink down, their faces close together.

"Do you like it here?"

"Yeah! I want to come here every weekend!"

Robin laughs. She might just have to move to Indie, drag Nancy along, so they can come to this silly little bar. Every weekend.

"We could make it happen," Robin promises.

"I'll hold you up to that, Buckley."

They're interrupted by a swaying Steve, who bumps into Robin's side to tell her he and Eddie are going to the bathroom. No one's buying what they're selling, they've been disappearing all night only to come back covered in hickeys that are barely hidden by their shirt collars.

When they fade into the dancing crowd, squeezing their way towards the stairs, Nancy leans her head on Robin's shoulder.

"You could kiss me if you wanted to," she says. Out here the music is a little lower, but not enough that they don't have to still strain their ears to hear each other. Robin catches it though.

Nancy doesn't usually go for public displays of affection. She's not ashamed, Robin knows. But she's a private person, very careful of her integrity. Robin respects and loves her for it. Besides, when they're in private it's a non issue, and she's okay with it.

"I want to kiss you," Robin replies. She does.

When they kiss, Nancy tastes of cigarettes and cheap alcohol. Robin never wants to stop feeling her tongue in her mouth, her waist below her hand, the push of her breasts against her.

"You're beautiful," Nancy says, and giggles. They're both too drunk to keep a straight face.

"I'm in love with you," Robin says.

They pause. It's not news, they've said it before. But it feels so nice to be able to say it out in the open. When their friends are out somewhere nearby, there for them. When they've been dancing all night and are both a bit too tired and a bit too sweaty but so fucking happy.

"Let's get another drink," Nancy says, kissing her cheek. Robin smiles, nods.

"Sure. Kiss me again first."

Nancy does.

[pardonmydelays]

So it turns out that that little stunt she pulled was an encore. Looks like someone needs to brush up on their terminology and attend concerts more... 😅😳 Omg, imagine if I actually left and missed "Defying Gravity"... I would have died on the inside and probably hate myself even more! Props to me for reading the room lol. That dress was a work of art! And so is she. I still can't get over how effortlessly she stripped that gown down one by one and how smoothly she transitioned into each song. The moment she brought up snowboarding, I knew what song was coming next, but I thought it was going to be "Let it Go" even though I have "Dear Prudence/Do You Want to Build a Snowman?" downloaded. There's a few bands and musicians I like, but not to the point of where I HAVE to see them live or my whole life will be ruined. If I'm going to spend money on a concert, then it's going to be for a band or musician that I really like.

Idina Menzel was an exception and I couldn't be happier for attending. She and this concert changed me for good. 💚

dasfshdgfnkj see, this is why i always have to check the setlist before going to concert, i am just too anxious about everything, really 😅

and i'm still so happy you decided to go! i also hope you will go to more concerts in the future, cause it's truly a life changing experience and worth every penny!

"there's a few bands and musicians i like, but not to the point of where i HAVE to see them live or my whole life will be ruined" <- i feel like this is me with literally EVERY artist that i like lmao. what can i say, i just don't know how to be normal about music.

[katebeckets]

THE CONCERT.

(I'm just going to bullet point some of my favorite moments here in your ask instead of personally message you)

HER OUTFITS. SLAY, QUEEN!!!! 👑 The stripping of each piece was done so quickly yet effortlessly.

I was absolutely crying on the inside. 🥹🤧

I love how she told us a story that somehow correlated to the song before she sang. The way she transitioned into each song was done so smoothly.

Idina talking a little bit about mental health. Just another thing to add on my long list of why I love her. The way she transitioned into the topic, though, was clever. I don't know if she did the same for California, but for us, (if I'm remembering correctly) she first sang an up-tempo jazz song and then proceeded to discuss the topic.  I, too, have anxiety, you beautiful human being. I hope Idina is aware of how loved she is by many, because she is. ❤️ 

The story she told before she sang "Do You Want to Build a Snowman" was great. Speaking of that song, her cover of the song was AMAZING! (I tried snowboarding in 2021 and found out the hard way that I can't do it either! 🙂 So.. cheers to her and I for trying to be cool.)  

"No One Mourns The Wicked" - I had no idea what to think about it to be honest, but I love how she went hard with it to the point of headbanging. Gotta stan her for that, lmao. It's honestly not one of my favorite songs.

I never saw If/Then, but "You Learn to Live Without" is beautiful. I loved all of the slow, sentimental songs.

I love how she talked a little bit about her husband and son too

I need Idina to do more up-tempo jazz songs

THE FINALE. I don't know about you, but for us, after she sang a sentimental song (I forgot which one), she said, in a monotone voice, “Goodnight, everyone, thank you.” with a straight face and then walked off. Me: 😯🤨😕😶 I was very confused, because there was one specific song she didn't sing... As the audience kept cheering, I thought to myself, 'There is no way in hell she just did that. There is no absolute way she went through a whole concert without singing that song...!'

I DID NOT DRIVE 45 MINUTES FOR MY QUEEN™ TO NOT SING DE-

She came back to the stage with a robe on. I am so proud of myself for staying. 😮‍💨 Nobody was leaving, so that's when I realized "Defying Gravity" was the finale song. 🥹 I kind of figured it would be, but was that little stunt really necessary?? Lol, great acting, Idina, great acting. And GREAT JOB FOR ALMOST GIVING ME A HEART ATTACK!

Overall, this was an incredible concert. I'm honestly still speechless and processing everything, so I'm sure there's more that I will remember later today, but that's all I'll write for now. I am definitely going to New York next year for my birthday to see her new musical! This was a great way to end July!

Aaah this makes me so happy!! 🥹 The dress made me think of the one in the “Brave” music video. I think my favorite is when it’s the nude dress with the black ribbon around the waist. I had never heard “Twist It” (the mental health song), but it made me laugh so much! She briefly mentioned her husband being a therapist in the Oakland show, which I always enjoy because he and I have the same job/license lol. I love that she kept a little of “Dear Prudence” for “Do You Want to Build a Snowman.”

“No One Mourns the Wicked” was so surprising for me, but I loved it, and I loved that she used part of the San Francisco version! “You Learn to Live Without” is one of the earliest songs I was obsessed with for her (I think she started singing it on tour about a year after I started liking her?) and I was just hoping she sang it again, that was amazing for me. And yes, the whole encore thing haha! I know she did an encore in 2015 which is why I knew she wasn’t done (plus she hadn’t done defying gravity), but I still had that “wait, what” moment.

Thanks for updating me, I’m so glad you had a good time 🥰

[spumonibones]

Chasing Wings: Memoria 04

Pairing: Xiao x Venti First Chapter (Ao3) ; First Chapter (Tumblr)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Lore/Story Notes CW: None | Update Schedule: Every Wednesday Canon Divergence AU; Other Four Yaksha Still Live; Zhongli already retired but Osial hasn't happened; Canon Typical Violence Note: I am slowly uploading (to mitigate spamming) this fic to be on Tumblr in addition to Ao3 - patience is appreciated!

Summary:

"To Err is Human, to Forget is Godly."

Almost 500 years ago, the Cataclysm happened. As the fires and monsters dwindled, most of the Seven had fallen. One, Barbatos, simply disappeared - and in his absence, the mourning songs of Dvalin would serenade the land of wind each yearly anniversary. The surviving Archons presumed him dead, and Monstadt presumed he simply never was.Then one day, before a Traveler will fish Teyvat's Best Guide from its waters, a young man named Venti is rescued by the Vigilant Yaksha. Without memory a face as familiar as it is foreign, the question then becomes... What path can one take, when new memories meet old?

A week had passed. 

Nimble fingers calloused from years of playing instruments tested each branch before Venti pulled himself up further. There had been no signs of the yaksha returning to his perch today, making this the opportune moment. It was the middle of the night, most of the inn was already asleep. The workers who were awake would check the roof at timed intervals, prepared to assist their yaksha once he returned. Not that Venti had seen any instance of the mystery man contacting anyone. That included Venti, of whom was supposed to be learning something from him. Venti, who was playing his flute every night. The guy was getting free concerts, and at this point Venti only knew his name because he asked around. 

The yaksha had a lot of titles, but Xiao seemed to be his actual name. Not that Venti was sure, given they still hadn't formally met. 

As he maneuvered his way upwards, he would occasionally glance down to check his footing. The potential drop didn't create vertigo or fear - simply awe. That he was so high, and the ground so far away… Venti felt like he was climbing into the sky, and if he kept going he'd be able to touch the moon itself with his song. 

Each time a breeze caressed his face, he'd lean into it. Take a slow, languid inhale of the fresh air one could only get this far above the ground. A hint of the tree's bark was mingling into the air, a scent that Venti never wanted to become nose blind to. 

As he sampled the air, he became perhaps too focused on it. The next purchase his hand attempted to grasp onto was a weak branch, the snap! a warning he both heard and felt too late as a result of his distracted mind. The pull of gravity was a foreign sensation, the backwards experience of falling down instead of up more startling than the cracking of a branch. The other hand had a solid grip on what he thought was a sturdier branch, but was proven wrong as it couldn't handle the sudden yank of Venti's full weight on it. Another sharp crack, and neither hand found a branch to stop his descent. His rear hit part of the roof as he fell, but not enough to stop him from falling off that next. The part of the overhang his rear bounced off of was not above the balcony, him rolling down past the building onto air alone. The bruises forming from each collision couldn't compare to what he was plummeting towards next.

Venti was falling. It felt wrong, his stomach knotting upwards into his throat. In his chest, he could feel his heart breaking. He knew he should have been more terrified than sad, yet the tears of sorrow were the only ones coming from his eyes. Venti was falling, and his heart ached in how badly he yearned to be rising upwards instead of plummeting down. “Please!” He called out, as if he could implore the clouds to assist him in defying physics. His hands were desperately trying to reach the sky, the top of the tree, anywhere that wasn't the ground. 

The earth trapped him for too long.

A breeze from underneath him, a faint glow in the blues of his hair, in tattoos he kept covered, in eyes that begged to fly once more. 

Then arms caught him, one lifting him from under his knees and another supporting his back. In a flash of black shadows, Venti was startled from his trance to find he was in someone's arms, held atop the roof of Wangshu Inn. Blinking rapidly, mostly to get the moisture from his eyes so he could see, Venti cast a bewildered gaze upon his savior.

An annoyed visage stared at him, lips pulled into a tight frown. It was the man that saved him. No, he's a yaksha, right? Is man the right word if you aren't human? Or is it wrong to ask that? Venti pondered, ignoring the agitation directed at him. 

“What were you doing?” Xiao asked, his voice gruff. Did he always sound like that, or was he simply that perturbed?

“Falling.” Venti answered ever-so helpfully. He even offered a smile, despite needing to wipe the last of his tears away. The yaksha's frown deepened.

“Why?” Xiao pressed, ignoring such obvious bait.

“Ehe… Well… I fell?” Venti stuck his tongue out, stalling as he tried to find a way to be honest without telling the truth. Eyes of gold held no amusement. Not a dad-joke guy, apparently. “I wanted to hear what the acoustics are like at the treetop?” That was close, but not quite right. That consultant, Zhongli, had said that this Xiao was supposed to be helping Venti learn ‘Anemo.’ Naturally, Venti was a bit curious about the person. According to everyone at the inn, Xiao hung out on the rooftop. The workers kept an eye up there as well, confirming they weren't making things up. That Xiao prioritized his duty as a yaksha, only returning if nothing called to him. Until now, this seemed as good time as any to investigate his… Living space? Venti wasn't sure he trusted the yaksha lived there. That the inn workers believed he did, certainly. Not that Venti agreed that was the truth. 

The yaksha didn't appear to be convinced. “You almost killed yourself… For acoustics.” Xiao repeated, daring Venti to clarify his claim. 

“When you put it that way, haha, yes!” Venti couldn't help the laughs that left him. Somehow that felt right. As if he would even rearrange geography to build that perfect concert, to feel the vibrations of every instrument, every song all over his body in a symphony that was felt as much as heard.

This garnered him a frown and silent judgement.

“Fine.” The yaksha said, voice flat. Venti assumed that was the end of the conversation. He would be dumped back into his room, another night in which not even pleasantries were exchanged. To his surprise, there was a green glow from Xiao's hip, emanating from the mask. On his left hand where a Vision was set in a glove remained quiet, Venti noting its odd silence. The wind gathered at Xiao's feet, and with no more effort than walking he leapt into the air, bard still in his arms. The Vision began to glow, its light noticeable in the midnight darkness. A breeze danced from underneath, lifting the pair up, up, up. Looking all around him, Venti's eyes brightened as the two moved through the air almost as if flying. 

This was it. This was the feeling his heart chased after, this was what was supposed to happen. 

All too quickly came the gentle landing atop the tree, leaves chattering as they were tousled by the sudden weight. Throwing his head back in delight, black hair touched by Anemo swayed in the motion. Eyes that blended blues and greens reflected back countless stars, a hand reaching towards them to test if he could really reach the moon. Pure, unbridled delight. The sensation of Anemo, of wind, moving around him was almost euphoric. In that moment, Venti wasn’t just in the sky - he was part of it. 

That the memory this was temporary was what made his chest ache, his smile falter. 

“...Do you want to test the acoustics?” Xiao's voice reminded Venti why he was there to begin with, but it was gentler. That gruffness he spoke with was quieted, replaced with something soft. 

“Right! That's… Why I'm here.” Venti muttered, trying to push that ache as far down as he could. “Is it safe for you to put me down?” The bard requested. Wordlessly, Xiao placed Venti onto the branch the yaksha landed on. This was as high as they could go without falling, Venti noting the man hadn't let go until he was confident the bard was secure. Reaching into his bag, Venti pulled out what was now his flute. Pressing the mouthpiece close to his lips, fingers got into positions as his eyes closed. This was something he could do without sight should his eyes fail him. Notes were tested, getting a feel for how sound was heard, was felt, was carried at this altitude, amongst these leaves. Let the taste of the air filter through the flute before hitting his tongue, lungs filling with the sky and song. 

A song, unfamiliar yet painful in its intimacy, weaved from his heart and from his lips. Words not his, spoken by someone long gone that he couldn't recall, came to him. A woman, though he didn't recognize her. Long pale hair, somewhere between gray and brown, hands that loved memorizing every note of every instrument just as Venti did. “He loves this song.” She said, fingers plucking at her instrument. “But maybe that's because I composed it for him?” A laugh, a wink, a finger to her lips asking this to stay a secret. “Promise me you'll play this for him?” In his heart, he knew when she asked for that promise she didn't know. 

She had no way of knowing. 

Who was she? What didn't she know? Who was this ‘him’ that Venti was supposed to play this for? When did this happen, and was this memory or dream?

As his thoughts sought answers and found none, he continued to play the song the woman had taught him. Much as he wanted to know who the music was intended for, it was a beautiful song all the same and he would play for that reason alone. When his eyes finally cracked open, Venti glanced at where Xiao was standing. The yaksha's arms were crossed, his eyes closed as the breeze tousled the teal hair. That stern visage was relaxed, the muscles that normally pulled his brows and mouth down fully at ease. An easy smile came to Venti's lips, the movement not interrupting the flow of music. 

Even if he didn't know who the song was for, it warmed Venti's heart to see it could at least bring comfort to Xiao. That was, after all, what Zhongli had said Venti was there for. Closing his eyes once more, the bard put more of his heart into the music. That ache was buried too deep to infect the notes. Without its presence, the bard let his joy at seeing the affect the music had on Xiao carry the notes. Whoever that woman was, she hadn't written the song to be a sad one. No, this was some kind of oath. What sort Venti didn't quite recall, but if he played this enough… Perhaps someday he would. 

A piano would fit this better, Venti thought. The memory didn't have a piano in it, but even so that somehow seemed right. 

As he so often did, Venti lost himself in song. Felt his mouth go dry, and even then only stopped because he was coughing too much to play properly. Putting the flute away, securing it, he turned to look up at Xiao who remained standing there. The yaksha's eyes were still closed, expression peaceful as a resting man. Realization dawned on Venti that, at some point, Xiao had fallen asleep. While standing. 

Yaksha are something else… Venti thought, taking stock of the growing list of inhuman capabilities the other had. Sleeping while standing took the cake, for some reason. Not wanting to interrupt the man, Venti turned his gaze on the tree he was in. If he was careful, he was certain he could get down. Biting his lower lip, he began to climb down the tree as quietly as he could. The leaves complained as he did so, the tattle-tales, and between every particularly loud jostling of the branches Venti would check the yaksha hadn't woken. 

The way the inn spoke, Venti suspected this was his first real rest in days. At minimum. The bard couldn't fathom how anyone could live like that. Maybe it was due to the emotional and physical toll he took when first waking, but most mornings Venti woke up wishing he could just nap for a few centuries. The fact that Xiao made a point to be awake and alert much as he was for long as he did… It was frightening. No, that wasn't right. Worrying. That couldn't have been good for Xiao's heart, at the very least. To be afraid to sleep, always scared to do so would be to be too late. That type of guilt in someone who would live for so long. That was too much, wasn't it? 

That was too cruel of a request, yet it was one that Xiao filled. Pausing in his climb, watching the idle form of Xiao there was an ache in Venti's chest. More empathy than sympathy, a subconscious hand reached out in offering. This had to be why so much of Liyue so readily tried to help their illuminated beasts. No one could make Xiao or others like him stop saving everyone he could. An everyone that included people like Venti, a stranger that didn't belong to Liyue… Yet Xiao decided was someone worth saving all the same. 

A foot slipped, a startled yelp leaving Venti's mouth. Reflexively he caught himself, breath held as his descent had stopped as quickly as it started. This would have been fine, except the sound alerted Xiao. In a burst of greens and blacks, the adeptus was scowling and collecting Venti once more. This time, he teleported the pair onto the inn's balcony. Unlike the way he was held earlier, now it felt oddly like the bard was a sack of troublesome potatoes, and Venti wasn't sure how he felt about that. 

Nothing wrong with potatoes, but apples were just so much better!

“Why didn't you tell me you were done?” Xiao growled, that frown back in full swing. For a split second, the yaksha genuinely seemed ready to just let go of Venti so the bard would fall to the ground flat on his rump. Thankfully, he didn't. Instead, he tilted the bard forward to allow him to plant feet onto the floor of the inn's balcony. Even in moments of weakness, Xiao had the strength to resist tossing nuisances onto wooden floorboards 

“You were sleeping. I didn't want to wake you.” This time, Venti told the truth in its entirety. 

“...Just wake me next time.” Xiao sighed, eyes closed as he flared his nostrils. That looked like counting to stop angry words. Not an expression Venti had seen recently, but felt oddly like one he was especially familiar with. 

“I'll consider it next time.” Venti promised, a playful smile on his face. No reply, only more of what Venti assumed was mental counting. Taking a step away, the bard assumed this was where the two would part. Each got what they wanted, sort of. To an extent the bard did, anyway. He hoped the yaksha got something out of it, after all the trouble Venti put him through. 

“Where… Did you learn that song from?” Xiao asked, his voice still rough but had some curiosity to it. Glowing gold eyes watched Venti, and now that they were open the bard found he couldn't look away. 

“Uh… I, hah, don't really remember?” Venti admitted, scratching the back of his head. “Was it… Bad?”

“No!” Xiao was immediate, startled by his own urgency in reassuring what he heard wasn't ‘bad.’ Sucking in a sharp breath, Xiao then gave a slow exhale. Voice steadier this time he amended with, “You play beautifully, that song was… Good night.” And he immediately left in swirling smokes of greens and blacks. 

On the balcony, Venti's gaze remained transfixed on the spot Xiao used to occupy. His heart was hammering, contrasts hastening its pace. There was obviously the warmth that came with receiving a compliment from someone who put on airs of stoicism. Xiao lacked the indifference that his mask claimed he had, that much was clear. Venti didn't need to be good at reading people to figure that out. Someone who didn't care wouldn't have been able to resist the urge to drop someone so troublesome. Still, the real Xiao that came out just to compliment Venti was one he hoped to see more of. Wanted to see more of. 

Across from that warmth was confusion. That song was one that Xiao recognized, based on the way he stopped himself. That was a song that Venti probably shouldn't have known. None of the music books he was given contained any sheets that matched what he played. That woman in his memory wasn't one he knew, either. Was it possible… That the world was bleeding into Venti? That he would become this, ‘Barbatos’ and lose himself just like that woman wanted? Wrapping his arms around himself, Venti shivered as if the gentle breeze gave him a chill. 

If he were honest though, Venti had to admit that he didn't really know who, ‘Venti’ was, either. 

“And I missed my chance…” Venti realized, closing his eyes as he verbalized his thoughts. No, had to get distracted by, ‘you play beautifully.’ Of course I do! I know that! Mentally kicking himself, Venti blew out an exasperated breath. Did the yaksha even know his name? Was that the sort of thing yaksha cared about? Xiao didn't appear to be the mean sort, but lacking knowledge on cultural differences made it tricky. Shaking out the annoyed energy he had at himself, he walked back inside the inn.

“Am I going to have to start assigning watch, Bard?” A woman asked, her words clipped by a grin betrayed her tone. It was Verr Goldet, leaning on the front counter as her blond hair fell to the side. 

“For so lovely a scene, all should Watch with eyes most keen.” Venti replied playfully, slipping into his rhymes with ease. It did wonders in selling that he was truly a bard from Monstadt. The bad ones he said for fun got laughs, but failed in convincing anyone he wasn't talented. After his first performance behind a curtain, everyone demanded to know how he wasn't famous. Huai’an, Verr Goldet's husband and the innkeeper, commented that Venti was going to get regulars to visit. A flash of fear, the bard asking if any of them were from Monstadt.

The married couple exchanged quirked eyebrows, but didn't press. Instead, Huai’an assured Venti that no, not really. Most of them were farmers from nearby, who didn't want to make the trek to Liyue Harbor for entertainment. “Especially now that we offer better entertainment.” Verr Goldet had added with a wink. The two were supportive, and immensely accommodating. When Venti claimed he suffered from stage fright, another of his many lies, neither questioned the validity of his words. Sometimes the bard wondered if they preferred to keep things simple and accept what he said at face value, or if there was more to the inn than simple hospitality.  The way Verr Goldet spoke to him, watched him, had that knowing look… He suspected there was more to it all. Decided so long as they weren't asking too many questions about him, he would reciprocate the polite acceptance. 

There was a small stage in the restaurant, and when it was Venti's night to perform they put up curtains. Allowed him into the hallway behind it, a back entrance he could use without being seen. The fear hadn't abated, but there had been plenty to occupy himself with thus far. For example, tonight. Venti wanted to learn more about Xiao, tried and failed to climb the tree. Met Xiao for a second time, and didn't collapse this round. Overall, the bard decided this was a very successful night. 

“Sweet talk doesn't work on me.” Verr Goldet laughed, speaking in the present. “Normally, I'd kick anyone out without question for bothering our ‘friend.’ But I heard music…” She moved from tilting to leaning forward, eyes widening with a growing hope. “Is it true? Can you really…?” She was trailing into silent implications, asking without cluing in potential eavesdroppers. A nervous laugh left Venti, adjusting the bag his flute was in. He felt unnaturally exposed, naked beneath her gaze despite his flimsy attire. 

I should do something about clothes. Where do I even go to get more? He wondered. The night clothes Hu Tao lent him had been sent back, along with his poem of gratitude. Which left him with exactly one shirt, one set of shorts, and shoes that were too big for his feet. Everything was secondhand from the knight, who had apologized profusely that he lacked anything proper. The stains from Venti's escape wouldn't come out, and no matter how hard he scrubbed his clothes looked dirty. It had also been frustrating that he was stuck in his room after he washed them, nothing else to wear as it dried. Five days of the same outfit, it was bound to have body odor on it. 

“Who knows? But, I'm happy to keep doing it.” Venti answered, shoulders tightening in. “If they say it helps, who am I to argue?” He continued. 

“Music does have a certain magic to it. I'm certain it does.” Verr Goldet decided, nodding her head and pulling away. Her warm gaze turned upwards. Most people would assume she was turning her eyes to the heavens, but Venti knew she was looking to someone much closer. “I know in older folks, when their minds are going the songs they loved as children help them.” She closed her eyes, smile wistful. “The songs you've played so far, some I haven't heard in ages. Each took me back, to memories I thought I had lost.” She opened her brown eyes, and looked at him. Held his eyes with her own. “Even if it only helps by a margin, I'm willing to go all in. If there's anything you need, please. Ask. Call it bribery to keep you here.” And she smiled. Anything? Venti echoed, hopefully. 

“In limited supply are my threads, perhaps more clothes for the day? Each step is dangerously tread, these soles on my feet won't stay.” If she really meant it, then Venti was going to try. Her laugh rang out, good humor in ample supply.

“Hahah! I'm sorry, I thought you were going for the suffering artist look! I really apologize, I should have asked instead of assumed. I didn't realize that's all you have.” Verr Goldet at least had the decency of putting on airs that she was slightly ashamed. “Of course. I can lend you some of our uniforms to borrow until a tailor can fit you into ones of your own. I'll also get a cobbler in, get you some shoes. Would you prefer Liyue or Monstadt in style?”

“Uh… I don't want to ask for too much. I already drink more of your wine than I probably should.” Venti gave a nervous laugh, running his fingers through the shorter strands of his hair near the base of his neck.

“So that's why I've been told I need to order extra, extra.” Verr Goldet nodded with newfound understanding. “We all have our vices.” She paused, taking stock of Venti's build and size. “You must have one Abyssal tolerance to drink that much and still play so well.”

“Music is why I wake up, Verr Goldet. No amount of drink can persuade me to hurt a single note by playing it wrong.” Venti assured her. “Give me an instrument, I'll play it with the same affection as two lovers do.” At this, her eyes lit up. 

“Prove that to me, and you're going to have one Celestial closet.” Verr Goldet promised. “All right. It's getting late, I have paperwork, and you've given some of us extra work. Get to bed.” 

“Okay, okay… But. If I want to… Talk to ‘some’ of you… How would I do that without falling out of a tree?”

“You don't.” Her tone shifted, a protective exterior turning her once happy face into something colder. “So long as you play, we can all hear you. You'll have a place here. But do not bother my people.” Verr Goldet didn't use a name, but she was clear in her warning. 

Venti learned two things right then. One, his arrangement with Xiao was not discussed with the inn. Two, Verr Goldet was much more than an inn owner. A simple business owner didn't turn into a soldier on the flip of a mora. 

“That is excellent information to have!” Venti went with those words instead of, this is frustrating news. With a flourish and a bow, he exited to let her do paperwork. 

Well. Now what? 

[solitaire-sol]

06: Cheat

For: @prongsfoot-microfic

Month: August 2023

AO3: Link

Notes: Non-explicit James/Sirius, incl. the break-up, with background James/Lily. Also, Remus and Peter are here?

They were two months into a seventh-month tour when it became clear that The Marauders weren't going to survive. Whatever was wrong centered around James and Sirius, and if the band's center faltered, Remus and Peter couldn't save it. Neither had the talent of imposing their will on the world, not the way their frontmen did: James was the gravity that held them together, Sirius was the match that lit the flame. They'd turned four strangers in a dorm into a band that defied expectations, found success when they should have failed; they were the creative force, writing the songs and taking center-stage, natural performers who drew the crowd along as if each song was an invitation to the best time of their lives. That was how James and Sirius lived: Arms around each other's necks, laughing at some private joke they were playing on the world, sharing drugs and drinks and girls and falling into the same bed before waking up to do it again.

That was how they were, until they weren't. Until they were writing songs in separate rooms instead of over the same table with their heads close together, their words in each other's mouths; until James was turning in early and Sirius wasn't coming back at all, staggering into rehearsal still reeking of sex, his smile venomous and his glare weighted with accusations. James bent over his bass and pretended not to notice, but the stiffness in his shoulders gave him away.

They still performed together because the fans expected it, and maybe that offstage distance was channeled onstage, because whatever simmered between them now boiled over on a nightly basis. That's what it was like for the finale concert, when they ran through their greatest hits for the last time: Maybe they'd never done them in quite that order, maybe they'd never sung them exactly that way, but Peter went pale behind the keyboard and Remus almost lost the beat. Every song that James and Sirius had written together was a love song, and every song they'd written apart was about the anguish of love; the lyrics were laced with references that only someone who knew them would recognize, and they were tearing themselves into pieces in full view of a world that would never understand what it was seeing. When the lights dimmed and the spotlight came on and Sirius threw himself into the last song of the night, it was his final, desperate plea for James to choose him. James' counterpoint was his apology, one last “I love you” before he couldn't let it matter anymore.

The fans went into a frenzy as the lights came up, demanding an encore, but Sirius had already thrown down his guitar and fled the stage, already gone by the time the others followed him into the wings. As the curtain came down, James turned to Remus and Peter with a forced smile and announced that Lily, his girlfriend, was pregnant. James was leaving the band.

[thecitykeepsevolving]

July 14 was my 20th anniversary of being an Idina fan, and on Thursday night, I got to celebrate that milestone by seeing her in concert at The Beacon Theatre in NYC. Anyone who has followed me on this blog since 2014 knows what a journey I've been on. I basically grew up with Idina, becoming a fan at 11 years old when I saw her in Wicked. As my life was changing, she was always the one constant thing that remained the same.

The ride wasn't easy over the years, as there were many times that I was frustrated with the fandom and even Idina herself. I constantly questioned myself as a fan and whether I was doing enough. Recently, that changed as I got older and even during COVID when I figured out what was really important in life. A year ago, I actually got to meet her properly and have a conversation, and her authenticity and kindness made all of the difficult moments worth it.

When I saw Idina in concert on August 15, I was in awe. It was so clear that she had changed in a positive way and showed growth about her perspective on life. I watched her talk openly about mental health issues such as anxiety and panic attacks, and told a story about giving a speech. These are all topics that I relate to right now, and it felt like I was meant to be there watching her at this moment in time.

On stage, I saw a genuine person who was so grateful to be performing live for her audience. When I heard her sing songs like Defying Gravity, Brave, No Day But Today, Take Me or Leave Me, and You Learn to Live Without (among others), it took me right back to certain memories I had with each one. Unlike previous Idina concerts, I was able to take it in, look around me, and appreciate the experience. I always say that every time I see her live I love her even more, and that was 100% true on Thursday night. I'm so glad that like Idina, I was also able to grow and evolve and become a better person. I think it made me a better fan as well, and I will never forget this concert. I am still not over it and wish I could relive it a million more times. Next stop, Redwood in March!

PS: My shirt is from eBay, sorry to Idina's merch team!

[ancient-cats-unite]

Jam Session

The music cats jam out together! What could go wrong? Many things, especially when a guest star gets involved.

"Sorry I'm late!"

Moneko burst into the studio door, almost tripping and sending her pink songbook flying. Ramen Cat, who changed from his work clothes to something more extravagant caught it. He chuckled, handing back to the girl.

Ramen was decked out in a sparkling red and orange gradient jacket. One sleeve was studded while the other had "RAMEN" sewed on with sparkly thread. Ripped jean shorts and boots with yellow laces made him look pretty kickass. Moneko had the complete opposite clothing sense, a strawberry pink dress with a green belt, hair extensions in pink and green with hot pink mary janes.

"Hey Moneko! We're kinda waiting on the Rock Revengers."

The studio was sleek, a stage fitted enough for the gang as well as some speakers set up. The jam session pooled their money together to rent for an hour though Moneko's salary could pay for it hundred fold. Moneko pulled up a plastic chair.

"Neat! I got this cool song I've been practicing for awhile. I miiight play it on my world tour."

Ramen propped himself up on her lap, looking at the lyrics in pink pen. Suddenly the door burst open with a loud kick. The mortar player held a large music case, almost comically large. The others streamed in, rough housing antics ensuing with the bee and the crab.

"WE'RE HERE MOTHERFUCKERS!"

The mortar player propped up his drum on the stage. The crab ruffled both Ramen's and Moneko's hair.

"Whassup crazy folk?! Haven't seen y'all since winter!!"

Moneko giggled, while Ramen hurried to fix his springy hair.

"Yeah, yeah.. ey, where's the other guy?"

Ramen retied his black hairband. The Rock Revengers stood up, confused. Moneko checked her phone, scrolling through their reserved time.

"Yes! We have another person coming. She's a very special friend of mine-"

The door creaked open, following the jangle of beads. A typical cat with an eye popping headdress rolled in. Alongside her was a mini cat carrying her microphone on a velvet pillow.

"Meawuuu!"

There was nothing typical about this cat. She was known for her over the top displays at her concerts. Flashing lights, gravity defying stages and excellent costume design. She was a force to be reckoned with, even after her retirement no one could take her top spot. Her popularity was a hidden gem to the empire. The one and only.. Cabaret Cat.

"Meawuuuuuu! Meaoo!"

Cabaret Cat nuzzled Moneko's leg, sitting next to her on her velvet pillow. She mewled sweetly like it was a sincere greeting.

"..okay, who is this cat?"

The chestnut player asked, lugging his music stand along. He was immediately tackled by the mortar player.

"Dumb fuck! This is CABARET CAT. THE GREATEST CAT MUSICIAN OF ALL TIME."

Cabaret Cat begun to groom herself. Dismissing her cat companion, she held her microphone in her mouth. Ramen looked at Cabaret Cat, jaw dropped.

"How did you get Cabaret Cat in here? With US??"

Cabaret Cat was gently carried into Moneko's lap.

"Oh, she just wanted to sing with us! For fun! She texted me on Meowter."

Moneko held Cabaret Cat all the way to the stage. The Rock Revengers stammered, pushing the highest pedestal for the tiny cat and bowing. It was very out of character for them, they bowed to no one.

"H-here you go Cabaret Cat!"

Cabaret rewarded their kind gesture, allowing a pet from each. The rockers were reduced to a grateful mess.

"I.. I petted the Miss Cabaret.. I'm never washing this paw again!"

Ramen rolled his eyes.

"Okay.. Cabaret. Should we, uh, get you anything?"

"Meawuuu! Meaw meaww!"

She shook her head, getting slapped in the face by beads and string. The rockers connected their instruments to the speakers, Ramen pulled out his spare microphone and helped the other two singers connect their microphones.

"So should we start with 'Cat eat Cat world'?"

Moneko set up her lyrics on a music stand. Cabaret bonked into the microphone just to make sure it worked.

"Yeah, thats like the only song we know."

Ramen pulled out a microphone stand in his paws. The Rock Revengers were all set up at this point. The mortar player was hyped at this point, jumping right in.

"Hell yeah! One, two, one, two, three, four!"

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

Terrible, absolute abhorrent musical skills ensue. Loose and sloppy was the only tempo the rockers were used to. Cabaret sighed in disappointment. When the band got to the bridge of the song, Cabaret let out her signature verse.

"Meawu! Meawu meawu!!"

The floor began to crack. Rumbling the stage, everyone hurried off to witness the magic of the Cabaret. A huge humanoid cat came from the ground in sparkling neon and gold. Cabaret jumped from her seat and landed on the statue's paws. It rose until it broke the roof of the studio, up to the sky. Cabaret, fully confident on her own stage, started her solo.

The cats below were both starstruck and devastated. Ramen looked at the debris that surrounded them. Miraculously no one was hurt.

"I really REALLY HOPE she's paying for this."

"Is that Cabaret's hit single "Meow into my heart"?"

"Yessss!!"

Cabaret had quite a crowd around her as she sung to her heart's content. After she finished, she winked at her friends below. The statue then drifted off into the sunset. The crowd was shook except the band.

"I'm NOT PAYING FOR THIS. Can't you get Cabaret to pay for this Moneko?"

Ramen held his paws up. A whole clutter of voices from the Rock Revengers, Moneko and Ramen overrid any sort of civil conversation.

"I can probably take this out of my budget!!"

"FUCK NO, WE'RE SUING!"

"But what about MISS CABARET??"

"KEEP THAT TO YOURSELF YOU DAMN CRAB SIMP!"

"Watch your LANGUAGE DIPSHIT-!"

"MONEKO is RIGHT HERE Ramen!"

"Guys please!!"

In the horizon, Cabaret Cat and her statue sat on a large hill. The cat sipped on a pink lemonade, singing her famous tune.

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