#people places and events are pouring themselves out and every song is like a desperate scream of I WANT TO BE UNDERSTOOD

[goofyjelly]

mammalian sighing reflex

[inkmemes]

ryan  ross  lyric sentence  starters ↪  taken  from  various  songs  he’s  written,  lyrics  he’s  sung,  &  poetry  he’s  penned.  trigger  warnings  for  mentions  of  sex,  cheating,  drugs.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“so close …”

“i am composing a burlesque.”

“i'm all alone in an afterglow.”

“but we haven’t even met yet.”

“this war ain't gonna fix itself.”

“you can’t be lonely.”

“you're gonna have to dig your way out.”

“she was nowhere to be seen.”

“some people never change.”

“i know i broke your heart. mine is broken too.”

“i'm carving pumpkins.”

“i'm afraid that i may have faked it.”

“though you tried to cut me down it wasn’t deep enough.”

“this may call for a proper introduction.”

“i know it’s mad.”

“all the lights are on, but no one's home.”

“a year ago, i was dreaming of where i am now.”

“charm your way out.”

“we're all too small to talk to god.”

“you’re invited.”

“it's not so pleasant.”

“if you're going, then go.”

“i was suspicious and naive.”

“we're still so young, desperate for attention.”

“things have changed for me, and that's okay.”

“that's the spirit.”

“watch your mouth.”

“it started with a simple kiss.”

“don't you move.”

“what a wonderful caricature of intimacy.”

“we'll never go hungry.”

“praying for love in a lap dance and paying in naivety.”

“i lie in silence and feel like a fool.”

“grab your hat and fetch a camera.”

“your eyes are the size of the moon.”

“it's time for us to take a chance.”

“you should take this heart of mine.”

“how did i get here in the right from wrong?”

“i know it just doesn't feel like a night out.”

“it just made her more interesting.”

“she didn't even see me.”

“do you know what i mean?”

“i'm wrecking this evening already, and loving every minute of it.”

“i sure do make an easy target.”

“someone i love loves someone else.”

“don't bother waiting up.”

“don’t you go down.”

“you vanished when you'd gotten what you came here for.”

“would it be alright if we just sat and talked for a little while?”

"when did he get all confident?"

“you know it will always just be me.”

“i feel the same.”

“all my forgotten poems are a joke.”

“she'd wanna kiss you all the time.”

“i want a big celebration.”

“i'll ignore my heart and lie to the truth.”

“film the world before it happens.”

“that's just ridiculously odd.”

“it grows like fancy flowers.”

“he tried to save the calendar business.”

“i wonder if this was physical or if it could have been in my head.”

“i wouldn't be caught dead in this place.”

“you're pulling the trigger all wrong.”

“i saw you, i met you, i loved you.”

“so let me set you free.”

“i'm aware that you're scared of my heart, but it's here.”

“northern downpour sends its love.”

“you better put that pen to paper.”

“if you're gonna preach, for god sakes, preach with conviction.”

“haven't you heard that i'm the new cancer?”

“i know i broke your heart.”

“i am something velveteen.”

“we're locked inside.”

“just don't put your teeth on me.”

“when i’m good, i’m the baddest.”

“i’m up, looking for you now.”

“you can call me tonight.”

“it sure as hell ain't normal.”

“haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?!”

“we sure are in for a show tonight.”

“can't take the kid from the fight.”

“she's got me twisted in love.”

“i could've waited for the train to come.”

“you could love me if i knew how to lie.”

“if it were me, i'd write another song.”

“i fell from the heavens as a fetish.”

“i am renewed.”

“i hope that i've still got your help.”

“take a look at what you got me into.”

“we should feed our jewelry to the sea.”

“who could ask for any more?”

“i'm pouring out my heart for paper.”

“i need to leave you but i never will.”

“i forgot how to call you.”

“just stay where i can see you.”

“it's the greatest thing that's yet to have happened.”

“i’m doing my best.”

“she didn't choose this role.”

“life is not a fairytale.”

“our loneliness will keep us warm.”

“i don't mind taking a photograph.”

“you're gonna bend until it breaks.”

“maybe something in my blood could lift my spirits up.”

“i am out of my mind.”

“imagine knowing me.”

“i hope it's where i belong.”

“is it still me that makes you sweat?”

“your speech is slurred enough that you just might swallow your tongue.”

“i must be lucky to have you be the one who loves me.”

“but who could love me?”

“you clicked your heels and wished for me.”

“give me your attention.”

“you set the house on fire.”

"man, it feels good to feel this way."

“i've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck then any boy you'll ever meet.”

“if the clouds were singing a song, i'd sing along. wouldn't you, too?”

“i know i've been wrong.”

“kissed a girl in the lobby ‘cause she asked so politely.”

“i can't get out by myself.”

“true love like ours is worth so much more than a diamond ring.”

“it never made her happy, 'cause she couldn't ever have me.”

“i do drunk dialing minus the alcohol.”

“i hope to god he was worth it.”

“he looked like he was barely hanging on.”

“why do i find myself outside at your window in the night?”

“i'd put a statue of myself upon the shelf.”

“they spill unfound from a pretty mouth.”

“ i'm going to need you to keep time.”

“you better back your shit up.”

“i think i owe it to you to try to be every hallucination you see in me.”

“you do this all the time."

“you're not what he's thinking of when he's with the other girl.”

things have changed for me.”

“this was no accident.”

“it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality.”

“just sit back and relax.”

“i, for one, won't stand for this.”

“we play by donner party rules at all times.”

“the glitter is gone.”

“boys will be boys.”

“you're all that's left for me.”

“my mind is all mixed up.”

“who knew that love was a dangerous drug?”

“'she couldn't ever have me.”

“isn't this exactly where you'd like me?”

“we can play normal for a few days.”

“i ground my teeth and you bite your tongue.”

“in case i lost my train of thought where was it that we last left off?”

“it seems i’m someone i've never met.”

“i think i made you up.”

“it never gave a damn about me.”

“perhaps, i was born with curiosity, the likes of those of old crows.”

“i'm cold, i'm hungry, but i'm bored.”

“i don't want no gifts.”

“the monster mash is playing.”

“do you really even live here?”

“this kind of thing always happens.”

“you were right. i was wrong, like i always am.”

“i missed your skin when you were east.”

“i feel as if i’m a figurine.”

“every night is the same.”

“ i'm sure i didn't ruin her.”

“i could have sworn we danced slow before.”

“i'm seated and sweating to a dance song on the club's pa.”

“it's nice to think that you are always wanted.”

“am i who you think about in bed?”

“you'll never know until you're there.”

“come on, this is screaming ‘photo op’.”

“you and i will always be ‘the dream’.”

“any practiced catholic would cross themselves upon entering.”

“it was a scream when we were young and dumb.”

“i know i should've never left.”

“who can i believe?”

“she always had her fangs at my jugular vein.”

“and a few more of your least favorite things.”

“in matters of opinion, love has gone insane.”

“if i go to hell will you come with me or just leave?”

“in the house of mirrors, ain't nothing keep you safe.”

“you know that you feel it too.”

“now we're making some progress.”

“god damn, i’d hate to see what i’d do under the influence.”

“i’m only reflecting your perfections.”

“just a first kiss to face the new year.”

“we’ll sit in silence.”

“you're a regular decorated emergency.”

“euphoria is a risk on the floor.”

“she could never win me.”

“love is all i'm really after.”

“have some composure,.”

“this was a therapeutic chain of events.”

“on the hotel floor, drinking warm champagne.”

“we need to talk.”

“every word gets you a step closer to hell.”

“let me help you please.”

“i never said i missed her when everybody kissed her.”

“now i know it's just a matter of time until i make her come.”

“if the world were ending, would you kiss me or just leave me?”

“forgive me if i’m not quite ready to give them to you.”

“i want to know what everyone knows.”

“you told me not to fear the dark.”

“the weather is impeccable.”

“i don't love you, i'm just passing the time.”

“i can't help but to hear an exchanging of words.”

“love is established philosophy.”

“but it might’ve been the calm that comes before the storm.”

“let's sing it like you mean it.”

“there's a devil in the corner.”

“there’s never anything good on tv.”

“everything goes according to plan.”

“i ran from love like it was laced.”

“i guess we're back to us.”

“we can't help ourselves.”

“i remember fuckin' in the falling rain.”

“i wasn't born to be a skeleton.”

“i couldn't quit her.”

“everything's gone missing.”

“we must reinvent love.”

“i know it's sad that i never gave a damn about the weather.”

“what do i know?”

"the best part about you was me."

“check the pocket of my leather jacket.”

“i am truly made of one million glowing constellations.”

“i mean, technically our marriage is saved.”

“she's a dangerous place.”

“even the truth is wrong sometimes.”

“was it god who chokes in these situations?”

“i feel like something on strings.”

“she couldn't ever catch me.”

“i try not to think about it and you.”

“i know it's just a matter of time.”

“i can't prove this makes any sense, but i sure hope that it does.”

“you know you should take it a day at a time.”

“i never said i’d leave the city.”

“it's the greatest thing you'd ever imagine.”

“i might have lost control.”

“i'm in a rut but still adored.”

“i'll keep my distance.”

“i need to take a vacation.”

“it's almost halloween.”

“is it a fairy tale?”

“well, this calls for a toast, so pour the champagne.”

“you can't stand it.”

“i'm exactly where you'd like me, you know.”

“we were always thick as thieves, you and me.”

“maybe i will, maybe i won’t.”

“all i want to do is dig a hole with you.”

“stop stalling.”

“it truly is enough to be alive and be in love.”

“i can't believe my eyes.”

“if i were to die tonight, would you cry, or deny my place in your life?”

“you are at the top of my lungs.”

“things do like to build up and fall apart at the same time for me.”

“why can't we just be friends?"

“i never know where the evening goes.”

“i want to go where everyone feels the same.”

“i fell in love again.”

“all i do is lie.”

“they asked for it.”

“was it all a dream?”

“all your wishes, they will sink like stones.”

“i wandered through the sunshine.”

“living even one minute without you is a moment i'd rather not have to live to see.”

“i want to go where everyone goes.”

“i think that i have had enough.”

“asked to be her husband; she already had one in prison.”

“true love is scarce.”

“somehow it still came undone.”

“things are shaping up to be pretty odd.”

“is ‘young’ a word for ‘dumb’; a word for ‘fun’?”

“said i'd let you keep it forever.”

“i never said i’d leave this town.”

“guess i'm going to a party.”

“damn, this is rough.”

“someone should have told her that pretty ain't a job.”

“something changed along the way.”

“i can't convince myself that you were good for more than cheap thrills.”

“now i’m the only one to blame.”

“let's not get selfish.”

“i hardly knew a thing about you.”

“give your feet a chance, they'll do all the thinking.”

“make a name for yourself.”

“it's useless searching in the cupboards.”

“i won't cut my beard and i won't change my hair.”

“it’s just the end of the world.”

“back to the room where it all began.”

“what was it that you put into my guts?”

“what a shame.”

“we'll leave the past out to pasture.”

“i know the world’s a broken bone, but melt your headaches, call it home.”

“everybody knows it but you.”

“it looks like the end of history as we know.”

[shewillreadyou]

Haven’t met you yet

As always. I hope that you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

A/N: This is a TRR AU. Liam is already married, but see’s Riley and wants his cake. If the readers are receptive this might turn into more than a mini series.

Disclaimers: Most characters are property of Pixelberry

Warnings: NS*FW (+18) don’t read this fic if you’re a minor; period.

Word Count: 1887

Prompts: @wackydrabbles prompt #88��“I meant every word.” will appear in BOLD

Pairings: Drake & Riley

Song inspiration: Haven’t met you yet -Michael Buble

Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy. 

A replay of the Royal wedding of King Liam and Queen Carsyn of Cordonia was playing in the background as she packed her clothes in the small carryon. She giggled when they kissed. Although it was rumored that the king was into black women, something seemed off when he kissed his bride. She had watched this wedding a half dozen times and still couldn’t really put her finger on it. She was headed to New York to stand up in the wedding of one of her sorority sisters. After landing her dream job in Dallas, Riley couldn’t wait to meet her sorors in New York to celebrate. After all, Norah was about to marry the man of her dreams and Riley was truly happy for them. 

There was currently no man in Riley’s life and no prospects. Maybe she’d meet someone in Dallas or maybe she was destined for the life of a career woman. Maybe there would be no happily ever after for her. She turned out the lights in her new downtown Dallas apartment, and grabbed her carry on dragging it to the door as she headed to the airport. 

She opened the door to see her latest amazon purchase on the door mat. She took a moment to retreat inside to open the box. She was hoping it was delivered before she had to head out. Her pink Bedroom Kandi toy was still packed away lost in the sea of boxes crammed into her guestroom. She knew that she would not survive this long weekend in NYC without some form of sexual entertainment. She was disappointed when she opened the box to find her new toy was smaller than the picture made it look. Her flight left in 2 hours and her uber was downstairs so she shoved the disappointing toy in the side of her bag and headed down.  

After the uneventful three hour flight, she finally landed at JFK. Mack was supposed to pick her up from the airport. She stood to the side as people herded to baggage claim to send a quick text. A group of men came from the opposite direction. One was this tall, very attractive Asian guy who looked alot like King Liam. He was with a few other men but there was one in particular who caught her eye. He was beautiful, he had dark hair and the most beautiful blue-grey eyes. The guy who bore resemblance to King Liam smiled and winked at her, while his brooding friend who definitely glanced at her, kept moving. She was snatched from her day dream when Mack texted to say she was outside. 

They checked into the Crown Plaza in Manhattan, freshened up and changed into their little black dresses before meeting the girls at a local rooftop lounge for appetizers and drinks before the bachelorette party. 

The sounds of Dua Lipa’s “Don’t start now” played in the background and encouraged a slightly inebriated Lauren to shake her body on the empty dance floor. Still licking the wounds behind a very fresh break up she intended to use this weekend to drink her troubles away and vowed to nail a stranger. 

The hostess seated a group of gentlemen at the table directly behind the ladies giving Riley, who never sat with her back to the door the best look at the group. It was them. The men from the airport. When they were settled, Riley’s eyes met with the Asian guy’s who was smiling and licking his lips. She rolled her eyes and turned to Kourtney. 

“So, how is Gabrielle, is she two now?” 

“Yes, she’s great. Busy, but great. That was real smooth. You have an admirer.”

“Ugh, I saw those guys in the airport when I landed. He smiled at me then too.”

“But now there are two of them looking at you like you’re a steak.”

Riley coyly glanced at the group again, this time noticing the dark haired man looking. She blushed and turned back to Kourtney right as the server approached with a whiskey sour, complete with a phone number written on the cocktail napkin. 

“How did he know what you drink?”

“Girl, I have no idea. Should I drink this?”

“Sure, they wouldn’t have served it if it had been tampered with. But the real question is are you going to call him?” 

“Me? Noooo. What would I say?” 

“What do you have to lose?”

“Wait, you have never dated a white guy before have you?” 

“Well, no. Not that they aren’t attractive. I just never had one interested. Not all of us find our Prince Harry.” 

“You do now. Besides, Chris is no Prince Harry, but he does treat me like a queen. I have always wondered if there are people who would rather be alone than to date outside of their race. Chris is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I definitely would date outside of my race if it were the right person. He is gorgeous, I’m still not calling this guy. He’s going to think i’m desperate.”

“You are!”

“I am not!”

“When was the last time you got laid? Mack told me about your toy.”

“Remind me to kill her later. It’s been 8 months, 3 weeks and 5 days. But who’s counting?”

“Exactly,” Kourtney cackled, drawing the attention of the men at the next table. 

Maroon 5’s, “Moves like Jagger” started to play as they continued to chat.

“May I have this dance?”

Riley was disappointed to find the King Liam look alike.

“Thanks, but my feet are killing me.”

“That’s too bad,” he said as he flashed her a sexy smile.

Just then she glanced across the rooftop to see him whisper something to his brooding friend. In an instant the guy with the beautiful eyes headed over and slipped the DJ a tip and whispered something in his ear before heading Riley’s way. 

“Kourt, shit! He’s coming over here what do I say?”

“Don’t. Let him do the talking.”

 He held out his hand and smiled at her and she was sure her panties were ruined.

“Hey, did I get your drink right?” he asked placing her hand in his.

“Actually, yeah you did. Impressive.”

Just then the DJ changed the song to Silk Sonic’s, “Leave the door open.”

The stranger pulled her to her feet.

“Let’s dance.”

His scent was intoxicating, his arms where strong and she could get lost in his eyes. He held her with a familiarity that made her feel at home in his arms.

“So are you going to tell me your name?”

“Drake. And you are?”

“Riley.” 

“We don’t have to talk right now. Let’s just dance. Just use my number when you’re ready.”  

“Their bodies swayed slowly to the song before her friends pulled her away to the next leg of their night.”

Two weeks later

After a very long weekend in New York, Riley was back in Dallas. She had been there for almost a month and hadn’t met anyone at all. Well, there was Will from work. But she doesn’t date co-workers and she is pretty sure he is gay. In her freetime she goes to the gym, and eats at new restaurants  a few times a week, which leads her back to the gym. After a particularly long work day, circuit training and an hour on the treadmill Riley came home and poured herself a very large glass of wine. She filled the tub, lit some jar candles and grabbed her toy and the romance novel that she was currently reading.

She was soaking in bubbles up to her neck when her phone rang, it was Kourtney. Out of all her friends she probably checked on Riley the most. She dried her hands and pressed the speakerphone button.

Hey Kourt,

Hey Ri, what’s new?

Not a thing, work, the gym, dinner, wine repeat.

That’s sad. No human interaction?

Not really. I’ve hung out with Mack and Ben twice but I always feel like a third wheel. 

Remember when I told you to call the guy from the rooftop?

Yeah. 

I meant every word.

I will think about it. I gotta go. Early morning. Love you.

Whatever, I know when I hit a nerve. I love you too.

Three days later

Riley was as lonely in Dallas as they come. She thought about online dating but wanted something more organic. Kourtney’s words lingered in the back of her mind. Maybe she was right. Riley had nothing to lose by reaching out to the handsome stranger who sent her the drink in NYC. She decided to take the plunge.

The next morning Riley sat on her balcony reading the paper and sipping amaretto flavored coffee when her phone rang.

Hey Mack! 

Hey, I am running into church and I know it’s short notice but Ben is out of town next weekend and my college roommate is getting married down in Waxahachie. Please tell me you don’t have plans and you’ll be my plus one.

I’ll have to check my planner. She laughed.

Who am I kidding? I don’t have plans. Free booze, food, and maybe a groomsmen to have a fling with. Count me in…

Yay! She squealed. I will pick you up Saturday morning and we can ride down to the ranch together.

Saturday

The doorbell rings and Riley grabs her clutch and the wedding card she got for the newlyweds before heading down to meet Mack. They catch up while they take the 30 minute drive out to the Walker Ranch where the ceremony is to be held. Mack talked about feeling like an after thought when it came to her boyfriend. Riley mentioned the need for human interaction, more specifically from a man and how the one man she met in New York lives in Europe. When they arrive Riley takes in the vast land and the beautiful event space. 

“Savannah’s family owns this ranch? Wow, it’s massive.”

“Yeah, I know at one time they were really struggling to keep things afloat. But it definitely looks like they are doing well for themselves now.”

“Right? I love when family businesses do well. It’s really a gorgeous day for an outside wedding. But we should probably take our seats. The ceremony will be starting soon.”

Mack led Riley to a couple seats on the bride's side. Before long a very serious looking groom and an officiant that Riley could only describe as a King Liam look-a-like stood under a wedding trellis decorated with blush colored blooms. The violinist started to play a beautiful arrangement as the attendants began to descend the aisle. 

“All rise and receive the bride.”

They guess all stood and turned to receive Savannah. She was a stunning bride. Then Riley laid eyes on those hypnotic blue-grey eyes. She instantly broke out into a sweat. She couldn’t ever mistake those eyes for someone else’s. He was as beautiful as the first tine she saw him. She swallowed hard and her mouth went dry. Her heart seemed to be pounding out of her chest, she was shaking when she gave Mack’s hand a firm squeeze. 

“What’s wrong Ri?”

Before she could answer, his eyes met hers, he bit his lip and her knees buckled. 

“Um Ri?”

“It’s Drake from the rooftop in New York..”

@txemrn​ @pixie88​ @secretaryunpaid​@khoicesbyk​ @blackkingliamstan​ @mom2000aggie​ @shannonwrote​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @fanjessfic​ @rideordiechronicles​ @lucy-268​ @dcbbw​ @darley1101​ @maurine07​ @burnsoslow​ @sfb123​ @bbrandy2002​ @kingliam2019​ @schnitzelbutterfingers​ @lem-20​ @choicesficwriterscreations​​ @wackydrabbles​​

TRR: @twinkleallnight​  @bebepac​ @mainstreetreader​ @romereadingshop​ @romewritingshop​ @lem-20​ @texaskitten30​

[27yearsbestdayever-blog]

My Best Day Ever by Gabriel

I am very old. I did lots of wonderful, beautiful, successful things in my life, and now I am old and resting. I live in an autonomous intentional community of many magical people. I live in a small, cozy house with a lot of books and soft seats and objects made of dark wood. The house sits atop a gentle rise. On one side is the back porch which overlooks a wide, lush, tree-covered landscape. On the other is my front door and a path leading down the hill to the main village, a little less than ten minute walk away.

I wake up feeling perfectly rested. I hear the sounds of the woods waking up all around me. I go about my morning routine. As I sit down on my back porch with a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of tea, my friend (who is a cat) emerges from the trees with a small rodent in her mouth. She settles down next to my chair. We eat breakfast together and watch the day begin. I sit here quietly for hours after breakfast, at this same time every day, making no fuss, so the local animal life is very used to me and knows I am no threat. They go about their business without the understandable caution humans usually elicit in them. We see many squirrels and many birds, including a few turkeys. We see a family of deer amble by, nibbling leaves as they go. A black bear way off in the distance. And then — my spine straightens and my heart begins to pound — a wolf. It stops. It sniffs the air. It looks my way, and I look back. After a moment that seems to last forever, it decides I am uninteresting and continues on its way. I wash my bowl and my cup, then walk the path down to the main village. I greet various people as they go about their daily duties. I meet some of the other old timers for lunch. Some of us used to be in leadership roles in the community. Now we are all trusted advisors to the younger people who handle the endless logistics of keeping this place alive and thriving. We talk and joke and laugh and tease and question and argue and wonder and eat delicious food and have a lovely time. We love being old. My fellow old timers are the only people who know it's my birthday today. They keep it quiet because they know I prefer it that way. They slip me a small gift: a turtle carved from dark grey stone. It's beautiful, I love it.

As I slip the turtle into my bag, a group of children run up and pull me away from the table, demanding I come play with them. I chuckle a goodbye to my lunch companions and let them guide me to a patch of grass. We spend an hour messing around, making up games and stories out of nowhere, fluidly moving from one to the next. Because of my size and age, I am often cast as an Other. An invading authority figure, a terrifying monster, a pagan deity. I play my roles with utter commitment. Eventually we collapse onto the cool grass, exhausted and giggling. We fall into a peaceful nap.

When I wake up, I remember I have somewhere to be. There is a theater company currently in residence here in the community, devising a new piece. I've been invited to observe that afternoon's rehearsal. I hurry over to the theater and arrive just in time. I cheerfully ignore the deference with which they greet me, and insist they pretend I'm not here. I watch them work and fall deeply in love with all of them. These young people are astonishing, and their work is like nothing I've ever seen before. I am delighted and deeply moved. Towards the end of rehearsal, we sit in a circle and reflect on the work. I offer my compliments and my observations. I offer some gentle suggestions about parts of the piece that could benefit from some expansion or reshaping or clarification.

As rehearsal ends and the ensemble splits into smaller groups that wander away chattering, one member of the company stays behind. They sheepishly approach me and, after making sure to give profuse thanks, proceed to challenge me with great passion and intellectual vigor. They don't entirely agree with my assessment of the piece, and they want me to know it. We walk together, and sink into an unbelievably electric conversation. They say many things that I find very difficult to understand, with such articulate certainty that I find myself leaning further and further into their vibrant rhythm, laboring to keep up. I feel like a retired tennis pro playing a match with an upstart young champion.

As we arrive at dinner, they stop and seem to shake themselves. They begin to smile with embarrassment and apologize for talking so much and taking up so much of my time. I laugh and do my best to assure them I had a wonderful time talking with them. In that moment I see so clearly in them that familiar potent mixture: arrogant awareness of their own hyperintelligence, and a soft wounded heart desperately reaching out for acknowledgement and comfort. It's like looking at my twenty year-old self. It's weird. I feel pain and joy in equal measure. I say a silent prayer for this young person. May they find a good place to pour all that intensity.

After dinner, a fire is built. We sit around it together. We say some prayers and sing some songs. Then the main event begins. A member of the community, a professional storyteller, returned from a year abroad a week before. She was traveling all over, telling and collecting stories. This night's fire was built mainly to give her space to share with the community something of her experiences. She shares many stories. Some are hilarious. Some are terrifying. Some are heartbreaking. All are riveting and nourishing. We welcome her back home and give thanks.

When I feel it's time to turn in and I say my goodnights, two young people rise and declare their intentions to walk with me up to my house. I insist that they don't have to, that I'm fine on my own, but they come along anyway. As we make our way through the dark, I find I'm glad they came. They move in closer to support me once we reach the uphill portion of the journey. When we reach the top I embrace them and give thanks. I stand outside my house, gazing up at the stars and listening to their jubilant voices as they walk back down to the fire. I smile. I step inside, ease myself into bed, and fall into a deep sleep.

gabrod.com

[bardiisms]

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐌𝐄  𝐀  𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆  𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐄  .  .  .  𝐮𝐡  ,  𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐃?  a  collection  of  songs  for  all  the  folks  who’ve  had  the  misfortune  of  meeting  elena  taliesin.    

i.  PRAY  ,  kodaline  /  for  her  parents   ii.  ALL  WILL  BE  WELL  ,  gabe  dixon  /  for  her  mentor   iii.  IT  WASN’T  EASY  TO  BE  HAPPY  FOR  YOU  ,  the  lumineers  /  for  her  ex   iv.  MONEY  POWER  GLORY  ,  lana  del  rey  /  for  her  patrons   v.  WOLVES  (  YOU  GOT  ME  )  ,  dreamers  /  for  her  mistake   vi.  WITH  ME  ALL  ALONG  ,  bronze  radio  return  /  for  her  friends  in  low  places   vii.  DON’T  TAKE  THE  MONEY  ,  bleachers  /  for  her  weakness   bonus  track.  MONEY  MONEY  MONEY  ,  abba  /  the  song  constantly  playing  in  elena’s  head   

peek  under  the  cut  for  a  more  in  depth  look  at  the  lyrics  and  wanted  connections  !!

i.  FOR  HER  PARENTS  /  how  many  nights  do  you  lie  dreaming?  i’m  counting  the  days  since  you  went  away.  when  i  lost  my  heart  ,  life  lost  all  meaning.  what  i  would  give  to  see  you  again  .  .  .  i’ll  pray  for  you.  do  you  pray  for  me? 

her  parents  are  cloaked  in  childhood  memories.  what  elena  knew  of  them  was  from  before  she  was  sent  to  train  for  her  kingdom  ,  and  that  information  comes  in  flashes.  her  father  was  a  hard  worker  ,  tending  to  his  land  religiously  ,  but  he  cared  more  for  his  flower  garden  than  his  vegetables.  when  his  roses  bloomed  ,  he  was  always  sure  to  cut  a  few  for  elena’s  mother.  she  would  blush  every  time  he  presented  the  flowers  to  her  ,  even  if  he  had  done  it  every  year  of  their  marriage.  her  mother  was  clever  and  intelligent  ,  a  scholar  to  her  core.  elena  remembers  her  mother’s  voice  whispering  fairytales  as  elena  drifted  to  sleep.  she  never  learned  how  a  farmer  and  a  scholar  married  ,  but  her  parents  did.  elena  clings  to  her  memories  in  which  her  parents  are  basked  in  light  because  the  family  she  returned  to  after  training  was  not  the  one  she  remembered.  they  sent  her  in  a  hurry  ,  thus  elena  never  met  them  for  who  they  were  and  she  fears  it  is  too  late  to  change  that.      

ii.  FOR  HER  MENTOR  /  the  winter’s  cold  ,  but  the  snow  still  lightly  settles  on  the  trees.  and  a  mess  is  still  a  moment  i  can  seize  until  i  know  that  all  will  be  well.  even  though  sometimes  this  is  hard  to  tell  ,  and  the  fine  is  just  as  frustrating  as  hell  ,  all  will  be  well.   

ever  present  in  her  life  ,  elena  has  known  them  since  she  was  a  child.  while  she  has  grown  and  endured  ,  they  were  there  ,  never  leaving  her  side.  she  feels  an  allegiance  to  them  that  very  few  people  earn  from  her.  they  rescued  her  from  acacia  ,  helping  her  flee  from  debt  collectors  and  build  a  life  in  aura.  they  pushed  her  to  study  music  ,  folk  tales  ,  and  history  —  even  teaching  her  when  she  made  the  decision  to  become  a  bard.  they  are  her  home  ,  the  last  piece  of  her  family  she  has  left.  and  they  keep  her  grounded  when  things  feel  like  they  are  falling  apart  at  the  seams.  (  open  )   

iii.  FOR  HER  EX  /  on  the  last  time  we  met  ,  your  love  was  there.  you  held  my  hand  ,  bit  your  tongue  ,  shut  me  out  ,  spilled  my  blood  all  around.  yeah  ,  it  wasn’t  easy  to  be  happy  for  you.  yeah  ,  i  took  the  poison  praying  you’d  feel  it  too.  you  held  your  punches  back  and  i  left  the  room.  yeah  ,  it  wasn’t  easy  to  be  happy  for  you.

maybe  a  part  of  it  was  real  ,  in  between  the  conspiratorial  smiles  and  absentminded  touches.  but  for  elena  ,  she  swore  up  and  down  she  was  just  playing  the  game.  her  patron  was  all  too  eager  to  fall  for  her  tricks.  they  offered  her  the  world  ,  how  was  she  to  say  no?  it  was  easy  for  her  to  pretend  ,  to  flirt  and  dote  on  one  of  her  first  benefactors.  lies  fell  from  elena’s  lips  and  neither  of  them  batted  an  eye  ,  allowing  her  to  weave  a  fantasy  ,  all  the  while  lining  her  pockets  with  the  other’s  wealth.  she  waited  until  another  opportunity  was  just  around  the  corner  and  then  she  disappeared.  elena  left  nothing  for  the  other  person  ,  except  for  a  vague  note.  she  hoped  it  would  be  enough.  alas  ,  it  seems  they  found  her  again  ,  bitterness  painting  their  memories  of  her  —  the  fantasy  has  unraveled  in  their  mind.  they  want  retribution  ,  to  pull  the  same  tricks  she  played  on  them  ,  to  hurt  her  like  she  hurt  them.  (  open  )     

iv.  FOR  HER  PATRONS  /  you  talk  lots  about  god.  freedom  comes  from  the  call.  but  that’s  not  what  this  bitch  wants  ,  not  what  i  want  at  all.  i  want  money  and  all  your  power  ,  all  your  glory.  hallelujah  ,  i  wanna  take  you  for  all  that  you  got.   

sweet  melodies  and  sweeter  words  have  begun  to  earn  elena  a  slew  of  high  class  patrons.  in  them  ,  she  sees  the  way  to  a  bright  future  where  she  has  saved  her  family  and  home  ,  all  while  dripping  in  beautiful  jewels.  they  are  the  key  to  the  power  and  wealth  she  is  all  too  desperate  to  call  her  own.  by  playing  the  game  right  ,  she  can  manipulate  them  to  twist  themselves  around  her  finger.  there  is  little  she  won’t  do  to  have  the  attention  of  the  most  powerful  and  wealthy.  (  more  are  always  welcome!  )       

v.  FOR  HER  MISTAKE  /  still  i  chase  you  down  ,  couldn’t  keep  away.  fever’s  coming  now.  i  want  the  high  again.  you  got  me  brainwashed  ,  you  got  me  so  lost  ,  you  got  me  fucked  up  like  you.

they  belong  in  the  past  ,  a  remnant  of  the  girl  who  died  to  be  reborn  as  the  siren.  when  she  thinks  of  them  she  remembers  a  loaf  of  bread  shared  between  the  two  of  them  ,  offering  up  secrets  without  realizing  how  dangerous  it  was  ,  and  a  hand  covering  her  own  —  anchoring  her.  then  something  better  came  along  ,  elena  was  offered  a  chance  she  could  not  say  no  to.  she  said  goodbye  to  her  first  love  ,  trading  them  in  for  riches  and  comfort.  she  thought  they  would  stay  in  their  own  worlds  ,  never  to  cross  paths  again.  elena  refused  to  imagine  a  world  where  she  could  have  them  next  to  her  in  her  new  life  that  she  forged  from  nothing.  but  then  ,  they  were  there  again  .  .  .  and  elena  couldn’t  stay  away.  since  reuniting  ,  she  has  said  over  and  over  again  they  can’t  pretend  they’re  teenagers  playing  at  romance.  still  ,  she  goes  back  to  them  without  fail.  elena  calls  it  a  mistake  and  pretends  she’s  not  going  to  do  it  again.  (  open  )     

vi.  FOR  HER  FRIENDS  IN  LOW  PLACES  /  we’ve  come  a  long  way  since  the  early  days.  always  had  a  spot  in  the  escapades  and  a  suitcase  for  the  getaways.  and  all  along  you  were  always  down.  showed  up  and  you  would  hang  around  ,  singing  loud  ,  standing  out  in  every  crowd  and  you’re  still  here  now. 

when  it  was  elena  and  her  mentor  against  the  world  ,  she  was  allowed  to  take  refuge  in  inns  and  taverns  ,  sometimes  trading  a  song  for  a  hot  plate.  those  and  many  other  instances  of  kindness  are  moments  she  will  never  forget.  she  guards  herself  against  vulnerability  ,  shying  away  from  real  relationships  with  patrons  and  other  performers  ,  but  those  who  opened  their  doors  to  her  earned  a  spot  in  elena’s  heart.  it  is  a  weakness  she  will  not  share  ,  but  what  she�� shares  with  those  who  have  been  with  her  since  the  beginning  is  genuine.  she  softens  around  them  and  attempts  to  shield  them  from  the  harsh  realities  of  the  four  kingdoms.  (  always  looking  for  more  friends!  )       

vii.  FOR  HER  WEAKNESS  /  somebody  broke  me  once  ,  love  was  a  currency.  a  shimmering  balance  act  ,  i  think  i  laughed  at  that.  and  i  saw  your  face  and  hands  ,  colored  in  sun  and  then  .  .  .  i  think  i  understand.  will  i  understand?  

they  came  out  of  nowhere  ,  just  another  patron  who  elena  could  swindle  out  of  a  pretty  coin  and  walk  away  from.  until  .  .  .  they  weren’t  just  another  anything.  they  are  something  new  and  scary.  elena  feels  a  bitterness  towards  herself  for  the  way  she  acts  like  a  fool  around  them  ,  often  bumbling  and  speechless  —  two  things  she  is  unfamiliar  with.  the  symptoms  of  blossoming  feelings  confuse  her  ;  a  constricting  chest  ,  butterflies  fluttering  in  her  stomach  ,  pouring  over  the  exchanges  between  them  late  into  the  night  —  it  is  almost  too  much  ,  still  ,  elena  refuses  to  leave  them.  she  continues  to  offer  her  services  ,  performing  at  their  parties  and  events  all  to  be  close  to  them  .  .  .  ridiculous.  what  hurts  the  most  is  elena’s  quiet  fear  that  they  are  doing  to  her  what  she  does  to  everyone  else.  (  open  )        

[hush-green-blue]

Harvest Event

Based of a folk tale and an all too vivid dream

Words: 2335

Most people enjoy a stroll in the forest. It feels peaceful. Safe. Not for those who were present for the Harvest Event. The Event took place on January 25, 2003. Seven individuals were involved. Their names were Joshua White, Micheal Edwards, Brandon Phillips, David Brown, Chris Hill, Daniel Roberts, and Matthew Moore. Only three survived. However, due to poor investigation, that area of the forest is still open to the public. It has been a little over sixteen years since the Event and still, no bodies have been found. All victims are presumed missing. Even with three statements confirming their death. Who would believe three kids? This was obviously just some big prank. Because of this belief, two of the statements were destroyed. The following is the statement of David Brown.

It was a snow day that Friday so some friends and I were going to camp out in the woods behind Michael’s house. We all met up at Chris’s place to get our stuff, sleeping bags and the like, and then we biked to the forest. Michael was waiting for us in his back garden and we left our bikes there. The forest was too dense for them anyway.

All of us were wearing lots of layers but Brandon’s mum was really overprotective of him. I think all the extra clothing is what saved him.

We figured out who carried what and then walked into the woods. The snow came up about sixteen centimeters so carrying anything heavy was next to impossible. I am not sure when but after about an hour or two we noticed we were nowhere near the trail. This should have been the first sign something was off since Michael and Josh knew that place well. The forecast said it was due to rain that night and melt the snow. It was already getting dark and so we decided to set up camp and wait till the snow was gone to find the path again.

There were two tents and we all fit pretty well. It was way colder than I thought it would be though so I was happy to have Brandon in my tent with all his extra clothes. Matt was also in with us. There were only three of us since we were bigger. Daniel complained about being in the tent with Josh so we told him if he didn’t like it he could sleep outside. He was a stubborn asshole so he did. I could hear his teeth chattering from inside my sleeping bag. Daniel was the youngest so we messed with him a lot. If I had known what was going to happen I would have let him just stay in our tent.

I woke up to the sound of heavy rain against the tarp. I was pissed so I checked my watch. It was two forty-eight in the morning. I pulled the sleeping bag back over my head and tried to go back to sleep. I didn’t even think about Daniel till I heard the crying. I thought he must have been freezing so I moved to sit up. And hand stopped me and I could just make out Matt, holding a finger to his lips. His eyes were wide with fear and I did not understand. 

The crying stopped for a moment and that is when I heard it. I can still hear that sound. I feel it in my chest and jaw. The wet crunch of a bloody bone. The sound was so complete I could almost see what was going on just feet from our tent. I felt Brandon tense next to me and knew he was awake as well. Then the crying began again. It was awful. I had no idea what was going on outside and that was fine. I hoped that the others were okay because we had no idea how to get back.

The crying stopped again. I was expecting another crunch but instead I heard a low creaking sound and then silence. Matt looked like he was on the verge of tears. The tent bulged behind him. A long claw speared the tent, ripping it open. There was a thud and then it pulled back. At this point we were all in a panic to get out of there. I thought Brandon was dead but he almost knocked me over trying to get out. Matt followed quickly behind him.

Outside, the rain made it almost impossible to see. I could make out a dark mass about where Daniel had been. Everyone was going in a different direction in an attempt to get away from there. I could see Josh’s blond hair in the dark so I ran after him. I had no idea where the others were or what was chasing us and i really did not care. Josh knew the forest pretty well so i figured he would be able to get me out of there. After running for a time I noticed that Chris was with us. Now that Daniel was gone, he was the youngest at only fourteen. There was still about ten centimeters of snow and we were freezing from the rain. 

It felt like we had been running for hours when we finally stopped. Chris collapsed and started to cry. Any other time I would have made fun of him but I was crying too. All of us were. After a while I checked my watch again, it was a habit at this point. The time was three ten. I had no idea what had happened to the others. We all just sat there under this big twisted tree. Chris moved closer and I noticed the blood on his leg. He said he cut it while we were running. Then it went silent.

The rain was still pouring but it did not make a sound. A eire melody echoed from what must have been the camp site. It was so sad, and at the same time, so full of life. The rain was back and we decided it was time to move on. Josh told us that the path was not far from where we were. Chris held onto my arm and I held onto Josh’s hood. The rain was so thick that if we did not do that we risked losing each other. 

It was getting cold and the snow still left on the ground was beginning to freeze, our steps making loud crunches. These were a little alarming at first as every step that was not mine set my heart pounding. I got used to it after a while, and began to recognize what three sets of steps sounded like. Slowly, the undergrowth around us faded and we were on a path again. I could even see our old footsteps from earlier. This was the way out. After following them back for a while we noticed more steps heading out of the forest. It was a while before we saw the flecks of grey in the snow next to the prints. I had let go of Josh’s hood since we were no longer in the trees but Chris still held onto my arm. 

It seemed like we had been walking for days so I checked my watch. It was still three ten. Then I noticed that there appeared to be getting more footsteps in the snow. It looked like hundreds of people had walked the trail. The grey in the snow was becoming black now. We were going in a circle. The black must be the blood from Chris’s leg. That did not make any sense though. None of this made any sense. 

I pointed this out to Josh. He said he had been worried about the same thing but was too afraid to say anything. We turned off the trail  and back into the woods. 

The rain was worse in the trees if that is even possible. I had no idea what was possible anymore. I took hold of Josh’s hood and Chris gripped my arm a little tighter. After a few minutes, we heard voices. They were arguing. One of them sounded like Brandon. The other was quieter so we could not tell who it was. It took all we had not to run towards them. Running would mean letting go of each other and the possibility of getting lost was too high. We stumbled through the ferns and undergrowth. I could make out Brandon’s bulky coats in the dark. But the shape he was talking too was not Matt.

It was impossibly black so that I could only see it’s silhouette and rail thin. It could not have been made of any more than bones. The thing was tall, almost three meters but Brandon looked level in front of him, as if they were the same size. The head of the creature was almost human in shape but it looked to have a snout. The most unsettling part however, is that it did not talk. It only hummed that same tune we heard earlier. We stood still in horror, fearing that if we moved it would notice us.

Brandon called it Matt and told it that the others were dead and that they should just get out of there. It hummed. He said there was no point. It hummed. He said he missed his family. It opened a glowing mouth filled with long, thin, teeth as more arms than I could count spread themselves from it’s torso. It told him that it could take him back to his family. He saw it now in all its terror. The neck extended at an impossible speed and the jaws closed firmly around his stomach. Arms closed around him and it lifted him into the air. The teeth must not have been able to get through all his winter clothes and it spat him out, dropping him near us. He saw us and screamed. 

I wish I could say I helped him up, that I pulled Chris with me as I ran. But I did not. I turned and sprinted into the woods my friends forgotten. I was vaguely aware of Josh somewhere to my left. There was a crashing sound coming from behind us that was keeping me from looking back. I did not want to know what was behind me. There was a scream and an unearthly wail and the crashing stopped. I ran a little further just to be safe before I hid behind a tree to see what was happening.

The others were nowhere to be seen. Chris was crawling desperately towards a nearby tree, dragging his legs behind him. The left one looked to be nothing more than bone. The creature had its face buried in it’s many hands and was crying, an almost blinding glow coming from under its skin. Then it began to shift, shrinking, widening out. It’s face was shorter and it only had two arms although they were still long and sharp. I could see its eyes and skin. It looked to be a child about seven years old. It’s arms were now long enough and its hands were huge and still black. Tears streamed down its face.

It approached Chris slowly, innocently. He pleaded for it to go away, not to hurt him anymore. I could tell he would not last much longer. The thing reached him and squatted down in front of him. It cupped his face in one large hand, and began to sing. The song was heavy and sang the sorrow of the trees. It felt bad for hurting him like this. It was supposed to be someone else. Who, it did not know, but Chris was not them. It was so sad. Even with all the horror around me that night, I have never felt more calm and doubt I ever will again. All the aches in my body were gone. Chris stopped crying and he seemed to be almost asleep. Then the singing creature snapped his neck. It was so fast I almost missed it. The song finished and it began to return to its previous form. I understood now how much pain it felt. It was so sad. It turned and silently walked away, melting into the darkness.

I did not notice how long I was standing there, staring at Chris’s corpse. I checked my watch. Six fifty-two. When I looked back up Chris was gone. In his place was an enormous tree. 

I knew where to go. It took me almost an hour to get out of the woods and by then daylight was creeping through the trees. I could not hear the police cars until I left the tree line. The sound hit me all at once. Brandon and Josh were sitting in the back of an ambulance. They must not have stopped to see what happened. I was the only one. They asked after Chris but all I could do was shake my head. I have no idea what happened to the others but I am sure they are dead. I do not believe it was the singing creature though. I think there are more things in the woods at night than we will ever understand. 

I still can not speak but I think I was humming while writing some of this. The same tune of the thing that killed Chris. It calms me a little bit but not as much as the thing.

Brandon Phillips and Joshua White have since moved away from Harvest and have not returned. David Brown lived there until late September, 2016, when he disappeared. An investigation was held but it turned up nothing. If you go into the woods, you might find a large pine tree. If you touch that tree a feeling of childhood nostalgia might wash over you. You might also find yourself humming an indescribable tune. The woods are dangerous at night. Bringing a friend will not make them any safer.

[alittlepad]

From Pet Sounds to SMiLE: The 60s Defined with The Beach Boys

(Originally uploaded to my personal blog on Tungle, now hosted here for convenience).

This is an essay I wrote for one of my college classes during my fall semester, which I’ve neglected to share with others despite it being one of my personal favorite pieces I’ve written. It is the result of feverish nights spent reading articles, books, websites-- all of that-- trying to gather all the knowledge I can about The Beach Boys. Of course, as a result, there’s a lot of love poured into this.

Our prompt was to examine and analyze the American 60s through the work of a chosen artist, musician, writer, etc., of the time, while also incorporating an examination of an appropriate film. As a diehard Beach Boys fan, I felt as if it was my duty to talk about their legacy as “America’s Band,” and where that title truly comes from.

Apart from examining Pet Sounds and SMiLE (whose analyses in this essay are not as in-depth as I’d like, but I’d like to keep this vanilla/unaltered version for my future reference), I also look at some of their earlier discography and provide a brief blurb about Bill Pohlad’s 2014 film, Love and Mercy. Amongst all of this Beach Boys nonsense, I insert some quips about historical events that occur within the 60s, however, it’s still not to the lengths I’d like to write about :(

Anyway, please enjoy and let me know what you think. The essay is under the read more.

From Pet Sounds to SMiLE: The 60s Defined

Highs and lows marcate great, enthralling dramas. Surrounding every great drama is reverence, nostalgia, and critical analysis. The 60s, in this regard, is a great drama, forever cemented in the American psyche as a dreamland of innovative music, free love, drugs and expansions; yet also a hellish landscape of violence, strife, and trepidation. Amongst this music sits The Beach Boys: the pioneers of popular surf rock, the American competition to The Beatles, the creators of the first concept album, and the chaotic family. The Beach Boys as “America’s band” is a title they fought for through Pet Sounds (1966) and SMiLE (unreleased, 1967), encapsulating what made the 60s into the beautifully volatile era that still reverberates within the America of today.

In the early 60s, The Beach Boys revered the sun and an almost utopian California in their music, reflecting the era’s need to escape from the uncertainty that sprawled before itself. Leisure culture was rapidly expanding– cars were becoming more accessible, the West Coast found itself fiercely gripped by surf, the beach became a safe haven, and rock ‘n roll found a place in the hearts of many. It is here where The Beach Boys found their most commercial voice. In songs like “Fun, Fun, Fun,” The Beach Boys sing about a girl taking her car out to have some of that aforementioned fun, fun, fun. In “Little Deuce Coupe,” it’s all about talking about how cool cars are. And, in one of their most well-known songs (which is just Chuck Berry’s “Sweet Little Sixteen”), “Surfin’ USA,” they sing about the magical sport of surf and how it will bring together the entire United States, despite most of it having no access to a beach. These songs all reflect that same leisure culture and its greatness, yet, not all of their songs from that time just stagnate in some sort of happy, fun, and oblivious dream.

Brian Wilson, the founder, songwriter, and producer of The Beach Boys, had another message to put out into the world that echoed what he felt, and what the rest of America felt but wasn’t able to express entirely with words. Songs like “The Lonely Sea,” “In My Room,” and most remarkably, “The Warmth of the Sun,” echo a terrible loneliness and introversion that America found itself embroiled in. “The Lonely Sea” describes the sea as it constantly changes, never permanent or staying– although it primarily focuses itself on the topic of an uncertain romance, it is the romantic narrative of America from the 50s that is changing. It reflects the rapidly changing landscape of civil rights, politics, and war that emerged in the early 60s. With “In My Room,” Brian retreats into his room, a place where he feels safe, secure, and set away from the world around him– a topic previously unexplored in music of that time, accompanied with the lush harmonies that The Beach Boys are so fondly known by. He, and the rest of America’s teenagers retreat from the changing world around them, and in “The Warmth of the Sun,” these sentiments are turned into intense clinging to what good is left in the world– most plainly, the warmth of the sun. The song was written in response to JFK’s assassination, and reflects the sheer panic that America was faced with– only in clinging to the good could they prevail as conflict in Vietnam escalated into war. The Beach Boys, and the rest of America, continued to retreat further into themselves and sought respite through whatever means necessary.

As the Gulf of Tonkin resolution is passed, the 60s takes a sharp turn into the psychedelic as anxiety and fear wildly scatters itself about, reflected in The Beach Boys’s magnum opus, Pet Sounds (1966). Apart from the American invasion into Vietnam, The British Invasion has begun with the Beatles playing on the Ed Sullivan show and garnering a massive swarm of crazed fans. In 1965, they release Rubber Soul, pushing what pop music was, which Brian Wilson found himself challenged by. Following a panic attack on a plane from a live show, Brian promises to retire from touring entirely, and focuses his efforts on creating the best pop and rock album of all time.

Brian looks deeply into himself to find what he, and the rest of America yearns for– good times in the face of the violently bad; a return to romance. Yet, he could not ignore what else was brewing within him and America as well– turmoil, fear, terror, and resignment. He did not achieve this through introspection alone– with the help of psychedelic and hallucinogenic drugs that took the youth of America by storm, he was able to expand his mind and the scope of what music was. He turned his feelings into grandiose instrumentation, and took those instruments into a studio, and in turn, made the studio into an instrument as he produced and wrote the entirety of Pet Sounds by himself. Brian Wilson, at 23 years old, created the first ever concept album– an album for only listening. A narrative of a love that falls apart that is littered with self-doubt, worry, desperation, and a keen sense of pure innocence. A work of art.

The album’s opener is The Beach Boys’s most popular song, “Wouldn’t It Be Nice,” a relatively cheerful song about running away with your love from a society that refuses to accept that same love– a feeling that hit home for the slowly growing LGBT community in the 60s, but also for the America that wants to escape. In “I Know There’s An Answer,” Brian (following an acid trip) sings about people who are close-minded and yearns to know exactly why they’re the way that they are– echoing the counterculture’s questioning of the status quo through its exploration of sexuality, spirituality, and mainly drugs. Through “I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times,” he speaks of how he doesn’t feel like he has a place in the world, isolated, confused, and almost defeated– again, previously unexplored topics in music before its release. In the album’s closing track, “Caroline, No,” the unnamed, hypothetical girl that Brian Wilson sings about (and to) through the album’s run is described to have changed so much that he cannot even recognize her, and he questions whether or not things may ever return to normal– these sentiments are sent off with a train whirring past as dogs bark amongst the cacophony.

These ideas bleed throughout the 60s and its constant evolution back then and today– will things ever return back to normal? Although the counterculture that The Beach Boys are attempting to embrace is pushing what that normal is– will that constant change ever cease? Will there ever be a time where The Beach Boys, and effectively, America, feel safe?

In the creation of the unreleased 1967 album SMiLE, The Beach Boys attempted to define what America is in order to preserve whatever of it they could save, and its collapse echoed the collapse of the 60s’ beloved fervor and wild personality. The 60s’ ideals of peace, love, and connection are kicking into high gear in the escalation of the conflict in Vietnam.

These great ambitions are shared by Brian Wilson, who aspires to meet the outrageous expectations that came with the release of Pet Sounds, and he clamors to put together material for the album– his “teenage symphony to God.” He smokes weed and drops acid time and time again. He competes with himself and his band. He comes to the realization that he can tell the story of America with music.

Emboldened, Brian heads to the recording studio and records, records, records. He creates bits and fragments of instrumentation that, when eventually combined, are to create “mini-symphonies” that each carry their own distinctly American narratives– like reaching Plymouth Rock (“Do You Like Worms?”), the genocide of the Native Americans at the hands of colonists (“Heroes and Villains”), the building of the transcontinental railroad (“Cabinessence”), and the Chicago fire’s blazen destruction (“Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow”). Amongst those narratives lies themes of innocence, wellness, and unfettered energy.

The aforementioned themes come together in pop music’s greatest and most expensive song ever created: “Good Vibrations,” the last No.1 hit from The Beach Boys that was supposed to be SMiLE’s greatest hit. It’s an electrifying single that features the innovative use of a theremin, wildly piercing triplets on the cello, genuine musical movements, the voices of The Boys in sheer celebration, and one of two songs that shows Brian’s fully realized talent.

“Surf’s Up,” in that regard, is the other display of Brian’s fully realized talent. It is a dramatic and evocative symphony that recounts a spiritual awakening, resignment, and an unanswered hope for innocence’s return.

If “Good Vibrations” is the 60s the America remembers through rose-tinted glasses– an era of love, passion, peace, celebration, and innovation– then “Surf’s Up,” the soul of SMiLE, is the 60s America sees without those glasses– an era where a collective aspiration was to cling onto a form that was rapidly deteriorating before the eyes of the public.

SMiLE’s collapse, following tensions regarding management, excessive drug consumption, Carl Wilson’s (the youngest Wilson brother) draft evasion, and heavy expectations, is a representation of that 60s aspiration’s collapse. It is from Pet Sounds where the 60s expresses its uncertainty and fear, and it is through the absence of SMiLE where the 60s falls apart and leaves America wondering if it will ever return.

In the 2014 biopic Love and Mercy (dir. Bill Pohlad), this saga is explored through a younger Brian Wilson (played by Paul Dano) who represents The Beach Boys in the 60s, and an older Brian Wilson (played by John Cusack) who represents The Beach Boys beyond the 60s. Dano is energetic, troubled, creative, and impulsive. Cusack, on the other hand, is a shell, weathered, depressed, and traumatized– it is a drama of Brian’s psyche that echoes the drama of two differing accounts of the 60s that makes The Beach Boys’s story, and in turn, the 60s so palatable, compelling, and relevant to this day.

Brian Wilson, with SMiLE, you aspired to define America. Yet, it is with your Pet Sounds and SMiLE that The Beach Boys became “America’s band”, and that 60s America is defined as a dreamland and hellscape; a drama. A drama that lingers, ghosting about, crafting America into a world forever changed by the 60s that dared to see the country’s innocence protected and preserved.

[astralaces]

tagging @cradlesonanetwork ! I know the prompt was meant to show our cradlesonas as heroes but I just couldn’t help myself for this one! I made a playlist for the event and the story that goes with it is under the cut.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4DFtEZHRlMjpfHBIzz1ku5

Angie, Goddess of Deceit, is up in the garden where all the gods and goddesses live, with a boredom that cannot be sated. Each and every day consists of the same tiresome routine that’s driving her out of her wits. She laments how she’d rather be doing something interesting and new as she runs through the garden in a game of make believe to try to stir up some excitement (Everything at Once). Suddenly, she reaches the garden’s edge and curiously looks down at the mortal world. In it, she sees a town in the midst of being destroyed by utter chaos. A battlefield claims the lives of several humans, fires engulf buildings without discrimination, and the mortal’s pleas for help fill the space. About a mile or so away from the chaos, desperate mothers file their children into carriages that will presumably take them away from this madness (Deliver Us). Suddenly, Angie comes up with a plan that will take away her boredom.

At the same time, a young boy named Oliver is ushered into one of carriages taking children away from the town. The inside was far too crowded and many of the children openly cried out from fear and confusion. Suddenly, the carriage hit a massive pothole and lurched forward, sending the children inside into a tumbling frenzy. The wooden structure fell apart, leaving several bodies bruised and battered on the floor. Oliver’s breath caught in his throat from the pain and he could see about six men on horseback approaching where he and the other children had landed. From the way they were dressed he instantly knew they were part of the group that was destroying the town. As the men on horseback got closer, the rest of the children grew aware of their presence and using all the strength they had they clumsily got to their feet and took off in different directions (Run Boy Run).

After letting the tragic events unfold a bit more, Angie slowly descended into the town. There was so much chaos and disarray that at first no one seemed to notice the goddess among them, but with a slight movement of her hand time began to still for those who were causing the panic. The townspeople stared in awe and confusion as Angie brought her hand up to her lips, blowing a white fog off from it. As she did this, every enemy of the town disappeared, leaving only the locals in the wake of destruction. Knowing that her plan was working Angie took a step forward, causing all the fires to go out. She let the mortals gawk for a few more moments before addressing them, saying that she was a goddess who had heard their pleas and came to help. The townspeople were overcome with emotion and quickly began to trust and revere her (Safe & Sound).

Within the shadows Edgar, the God of Death, watched Angie with calculating eyes. He had been drawn to this town from all the killings and bitter bile rose in his throat at the thought that his fun was coming to an end. It took him less than a second to figure out everything coming from the Goddess’ mouth was a lie. She was cold, cruel, and manipulative while trying to come off as benevolent. Still, he knew better than to expose her right away. He waited until she was alone to confront her head on, letting her know that he knew she was a fraud (Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing). Amused by his accusation, Angie tells him that they share many of the same qualities. In fact, she knows that under the guise of disdain he’s rather intrigued by her. Unable to deny this, Edgar points out that she appears to be just as intrigued by him. The two play this game of cat and mouse before agreeing to come to a compromise that will satisfy both their needs. Angie would continue to make the townsfolk worship and adore her and once she was bored of them Edgar had free reign to pick them off one by one (Dangerous Game).

A few days later, Oliver’s exhausted body collapsed in a small town several miles from his home. He was found by a group of men who took him to the local orphanage. It was then, among all the other orphaned and destitute children, that Oliver decided he wanted to make something of himself. Unwilling to let his tragic circumstances define him, he poured himself into his studies and used the pain of his past to fuel his success. Even after he was old enough to leave the orphanage, he continued to study for another decade until he mastered his chosen craft: inventing (Rise Like a Phoenix).

Meanwhile, Angie and Edgar spent the last several years traveling from place to place while playing their game. Several towns had fallen victim to them as every last citizen was stripped of their free will and life. As their list of potential new locations grew smaller and smaller, the pair found themselves in the town a now adult Oliver called home (Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This).

Oliver watched with the other townsfolk as Angie gave the usual speech of her being a goddess who’d come to help the town in its time of need. She promised to bring a surplus of food for the hungry, clothes for the cold, and shelter for the homeless. She swore to protect the people and to care for them as if they were her own. Looking around, Oliver could tell that the people were enraptured by her words, but he was skeptical. Not trusting Angie, he began to follow her until nightfall. Sure enough, once all the townspeople were asleep in their homes a man Oliver had never seen before came up to the goddess. While Oliver wasn’t close enough to hear what they were saying, he watched as the goddess nodded her head. Gleefully, the man at her side pulled out a sword covered in a mist of shadows. His eyes were set on a homeless man sleeping several feet away and within the next second his sword pierced the man’s neck in a feat that shouldn’t have been possible. Stifling his gasp, Oliver realized that the man with the sword was Death. That meant there were two malicious gods that had the townsfolk wrapped around their fingers. Not knowing what else to do, Oliver raced home and began to work on a seemingly impossible weapon: a gun that could kill a god (My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark).

Several weeks passed from the day Edgar and Angie had first arrived. Dozens were now dead, but the gods were doing a good job of covering their tracks. They were professionals at this point so it was business as usual, except for one minor detail. After spending so much time together, the pair had developed true feelings for each other. Deciding to be the braver of the two, Edgar is the first to confess his feelings, pledging his loyalty to Angie who then confesses her feelings as well (I Will Be There).

Shortly after this, Oliver finally perfects his ultimate invention with one small problem: he was only able to create one bullet with the power to kill a god. Still, with more and more people being murdered by the day, he knows there isn’t any time to lose. Setting out into the town’s square he speaks out against Angie and Edgar, telling the people that they have all been deceived. He shows the people indisputable evidence that proves the two gods are the culprits of all the recent murders and disappearances while also revealing that he’s come up with a way to stop them. Roars of applause and anger rose from the deceived crowd as they all rallied with Oliver to kill the gods (Uprising).

The passion filled townspeople quickly track down and surround Angie and Oliver, who are amused by their display of defiance. Knowing full well that their power outweighs that of mortals, the two taunt the people, telling them that it is impossible for them to win. A fight breaks out with Angie and Oliver clearly having the upper hand. They kill several people at once and gain several feet of footing as they continue to laugh at the uprising. From the middle of the chaos, Oliver managed to sneak his way around the crowd. From his position he had a clear shot of both gods and, deciding her cunning ways made her the more immediate threat, he aimed at Angie. Right as his finger pulled the trigger, Edgar’s head whipped around. With inhuman speed he pushed Angie out of the way and the bullet lodged itself in his chest. True to its nature, the bullet managed to kill the God of Death (Partners in Crime).

Shocked, Angie dropped to her knees and cradled Edgar’s body in her arms. Although he now had no way to kill her, Oliver marched passed the handful of remaining townsfolk until he was standing right in front of the goddess. He called her out on her deplorable actions, and though he knew she felt no remorse he couldn’t contain the hatred in his voice as he dug into her (Don’t You Dare Forget The Sun). Unable to contain her rage, Angie sarcastically congratulates Oliver for killing Edgar before deciding to let him reap what he’s sewn. She uses her power to kill the remaining townspeople on the spot while sparing Oliver, knowing this will shake him up (Sarcasm).

Switching gears, she uses her powers of deceit to alter Oliver’s mind. She paints herself as a victim of the situation, making him believe that she had no choice in the killings and that she is not only remorseful, but seeking salvation. Unable to ward off her power, Oliver not only believes this, but takes pity on her, allowing her to return to her home in the garden (Off With Her Head).

Back home, Angie thinks back on the years she spent in the mortal world with Edgar. Memories of being the most powerful being in existence flashed through her mind as she thought about her lost love and power (Viva La Vida).

[tonystarkstan]

the courage of stars

Word Count: 1,568 | ao3 | tw: depressive episode

Sometimes, Peter forgets how to breathe.

He forgets a lot of things, actually, but the breathing tends to be the most problematic. It should be simple, automatic, a thing your body unconsciously does. Only two simple steps: inhale, exhale.

But for Peter, it’s just… not. Sometimes he has to stop and focus on the steady in and out, physically stretch his lungs like stretching out a rubber band. It’s elastic, something that requires an energy input to get an output. Keeping his body alive is exhausting.

Sometimes, he just doesn’t want to.

Somewhere along the way, he gives up on eating entirely. He thinks that maybe he sleeps, but there’s no solid divide between asleep and awake anymore. It’s fluid. Being alive is like treading water. He is so tired. He wants to stop swimming. Stop breathing.

Peter’s brain always comes down to this. To water and shapes and spirals and bits of messy physics that can only serve as metaphors for what’s actually on the inside of him.

“Peter, Happy’s waiting outside!” May calls, and suddenly he’s slammed back to Earth. He picks up his duffle bag and heads to the door, giving May a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Have a good weekend, baby. Hey – and be safe! I love you,” she says, giving him a tight hug. Inhale, he reminds himself. He stretches his lungs just enough to get his next words out.

“Love you, too,” he responds, and then the vacuum inside of him steals the rest of his air. He’s quick to leave after that.

He puts his headphones in, the classic “don’t talk to me” gesture, and makes his way to the Audi parked outside his apartment complex. May’s pulling extra hours over the weekend, so it was decided that he’d spend some time at the Compound, training and working in the lab with Tony.

Normally, he’d be excited. But Peter can’t breathe.

He slides into the backseat and bobs his head slightly, as if bopping to music. He’s not. There is no music in head headphones. Just silence.

Happy gives him a strange look at the lack of his usual enthusiastic greeting before shrugging to himself and pulling out into the street.

“Teenagers,” he mutters.

Peter lifts his feet onto the seat, knees pressed close to his chest and looks out the window. Somewhere inside his head, he’s thrashing to stay above water.

I’m tired, he thinks as he leans his head back on the seat.

So he lets himself sink.

-

Sometimes, Peter thinks that he was born with a black hole in the middle of his chest. That he was always going to feel like this, that gravity was always going to pull on him more from the inside than the outside.

But no. When he was born, Peter was a star. May and Ben and Ned poured so much light into him, and he couldn’t help but shine light into any person he met or room he walked into. His enthusiasm for science and for learning and for people was always evident in the excited tone of his voice and bright sparkle in his eyes.

When stars collapse, a strange thing occurs. During the process, the surface of the star reaches an imaginary point called the “event horizon.” And when the surface of the star finally meets that point, time stands still, and the star can collapse no more.

Peter learns in astronomy class that it’s possible to be frozen in place and still be collapsing.

-

When he arrives at the Compound, Peter’s so far inside his head that he barely registers it. It’s autopilot, muscle memory, that gets him into the elevator from the parking garage underneath the building.

“Good evening, Mr. Parker,” FRIDAY greets. “Boss was called for an emergency meeting but will be out shortly. You may do as you please, and he’ll notify you when he’s out. Where would you like to go?”

Peter thinks about his lungs and how there never seems to be enough air to breathe.

“Outside, please. The track.” Those four words feel like defying gravity. Maybe he is.

(Maybe being alive in itself is an act of defying gravity.)

FRIDAY falls silent after that and goes up to the ground floor. Peter vaguely wonders what the weight limit is. He’s surprised he doesn’t break the scale.

When he makes it out to the track, he drops his duffle bag by the entrance, not having the energy to bring it all the way up to his room first. It’s already dark outside, dusk settling comfortably over Peter’s surroundings.

He doesn’t have the energy for running, so instead, he just starts walking, pace slow and lethargic. The elastic isn’t just around his lungs anymore. It’s holding his legs hostage too, making every step forward burn.

God, he is so tired.

It’s chilly outside, he realizes belatedly. A breeze brushes his face and he shivers slightly, sensitive to the cold.

As he walks, he listens to the scuff of his shoe against the track. Friction. His whole life is made of friction. The skid of shoes on pavement as he stops a bus. Flash’s offhand remarks against thick skin. The scrape of his lungs against a too-small ribcage.

He doesn’t remember making the decision to stop. Maybe it wasn’t his choice to begin with.

(Too much friction. Not enough pull.)

For a while, he just stands there. After a moment, his chest starts to burn, and he reminds himself, Inhale.

His lungs expand and then collapse back in on themselves, like a dying star. He’s standing in place and he’s collapsing, over and over again.

Frozen movement.

Peter hears the sound of footsteps behind him long before their owner stops next to him, but he doesn’t move. He just watches air puff out in front of him, a reminder that he’s breathing. A choice.

(You’re alive because of you.)

“What are we doing out here, buddy? It’s cold,” Tony says into the night, and Peter glances at him. He marvels at how the words leave the man effortlessly, how his chest rises and falls as effortlessly as the sun in the sky. Like it’s natural.

Inhale.

“I wanted air,” Peter tells him.

“There’s plenty of that inside,” Tony quips mildly but doesn’t push it when he gets no response.

For a moment, they stay just like that, side by side. Tony doesn’t push, and Peter simply continues to watch his breath leave him. Inhale, exhale. He tries to program those words back into his body.

His gaze shifts to the sky before he speaks again. “Did you know that stars are in constant conflict with themselves?”

Tony looks at him, hands casually tucked into his pockets but eyes sharp and concerned. “How so?”

Inhale, Peter reminds himself. “All of the gravity of the mass in a star is constantly trying to pull it inward. The only thing that keeps a star from collapsing is its light, the energy generated from nuclear fusion.”

“Yeah?” Tony asks.

“Yeah.”

Peter falls silent again, exhausted, and Tony takes the time to study the kid carefully. Peter is sullen in a way he’s never seen before, shoulders hunched and weighed down by some unseen force.

He’s just not… Peter.

“Come on, Pete. Talk to me,” Tony prompts. “If you want to see the stars, I can take you. I’ll take you wherever you’d like.”

Inhale.

“I can’t breathe because I’m losing light,” Peter says suddenly, desperately. At this, Tony looks completely lost.

“What? Kid, I don’t… I don’t think I’m following,” Tony says hesitantly, and Peter shakes his head, thinking of dying stars and friction and gravity and all the forces that are trying to stop him when all he wants is to breathe.

This time, when he inhales, his lungs stutter and the rubber band snaps back before it can ever fully stretch. He tries again and again, chest heaving, but it’s not enough, it’s not.

Peter turns, looking up at Tony and grasping his sleeve. “Tony,” he gasps, a word that tears itself from his mouth and hits the man with the force of a train.

“Hey, hey, hey – I’m here, kiddo,” Tony says, hands quickly coming to rest on the kid’s shoulders. “I’m right here. Just breathe.”

Peter shakes his head, again, frustrated. “I can’t,” he chokes, voice cracking. “I’m – I’m tired and I’m losing light and without it, nothing is going to keep me from – keep me from – “

Understanding lights Tony’s eyes, and his heart breaks a little. Tony doesn’t wait. He just pulls the kid close, one arm wrapping around Peter’s waist and the other coming to rest at the back of his head.

“It’s okay, Pete, it’s okay,” Tony murmurs, chin resting on the kid’s head. He feels the boy’s body shake with the force of his emotion, and Tony can’t help but squeeze a little tighter.

“You’re not going to run out of light,” Tony tells him fiercely. “I have plenty of my own. We can share.”

Peter lets out a harsh sob at that, somewhere in between despair and relief, and Tony just holds him while he cries.

Time stands still, but this time, Tony keeps him from collapsing. Eventually, Peter’s breaths even out and the tremors stop, but he doesn’t pull away. They just stay like that.

Inhale, he reminds himself.

This time, the breath comes a little easier.

-

Note: Originally, I was hesitant to post this anywhere, because I didn’t think it made any sense. But honestly? I think I’m proud of it. So I figured I’d post it here, too. Title taken from the song “Saturn” by Sleeping At Last.

[arreisstorm]

HAPPY SUGA DAY!

Disclaimer:

****I meant to get this post up on Yoongi's actual birthday but due to Tumblr completely deleting my first draft and having to deal with some crap at work, I haven't really been in my right mind to do so, so unfortunately I wasn't able to get it done in time. Even if it's a little late I hope you guys still enjoy this post!****

So I've been thinking all day what I can say about Min Yoongi that I haven't said already and sadly I'm drawing a blank.

 I think everyone knows by now how, underneath that hard and standoff-ish exterior, Yoongi is truly one of the sweetest, most caring members in BTS.

 He may be the designated "grandpa" but he can give Jin a run for his money as the "mom" of the group with the way he dotes on every single member in his own way. So instead of me doing a long winded post that loses it train of thought a million times I think I'll expand on how much Yoongi truly loves his brothers:

▪JIN

So when it comes to the relationship these two share, "opposites attract" is the best way I could describe it. While one is outgoing and loud, the other is more reserved and quiet. This duo loves to annoy each other and you can see that every time Jin cracks a face-palm inducing dad joke, and vice versa whenever Yoongi makes fun of Jin for his "old" age. I mean it's obvious to ARMY by now how extra Jin can be at times, but even through all the cringe-worthy moments and  second-hand embarrassment, at the end of the day, Yoongi still has great appreciation and respect for him.

▪JIMIN

Like Jin and Yoongi, Jimin and Yoongi are also quite opposites when it comes to their outlook on life. Where Jimin sees positivity, Yoongi is more about realism. It's not that he doesn't want to see the world as a happy place, but he also doesn't want to be blind to the truth either. That's why these two work so well together, one is the lifts the other up while the other protects them from harm.

▪TAEHYUNG

It's no secret that Tae marches to the beat of his own drum, but it is because of this fact that Yoongi finds him so endearing. During an episode of BV the two were partnered up to spend time together and even when everyone else said they would never agree on anything, Yoongi had the perfect solution. He cares a lot for Tae and he knows how hard the past few years have been for him after losing precious loved ones, so he's kind of been the one looking out for him behind the scenes.

▪JUNGKOOK

When it comes to emotional vulnerability, I would say Kookie and Yoongi are two peas in a pod. Neither one chooses to wear their hearts on their sleeves, but on the rare occassions when they do, you can guarantee you will find yourself crying along with them. There's a lot of pressure and uncertainty that goes alongside being the maknae of the group, and even more so when you're the golden maknae, and that's why I think Yoongi has taken it upon himself to help shoulder those burdens by taking care of him. Whether it's sticking up for him, encouraging him, or simply offering to buy him a proper meal, Yoongi has always been a great hyung to Kookie. And who could forget the iconic moment of "Friendship is Irish Bomb"? Haha

▪HOSEOK

Ok, so there's a lot with this relationship. We have day meets night, dark meets light, and cynicism meets positivity. These two contrast so much but still connect on the same level in countless other ways. Both are 2/3 that form one of the best raplines I've ever seen. Both are very passionate about what they do (J-Hope: dance, Yoongi: music) and they have worked their butts off to reached the point they're at now. Because Yoongi is such a realist, he is constantly overwhelmed with the state of the world, and he desperately needs to see the happier side that he might be missing...that's where Hobi comes in. There's a reason he was given the nickname he was given, he provides everyone around him with hope and happiness when they need it most, and that especially applies to Yoongi.

 When you constantly find yourself in the limelight it can be hard not to lose yourself within it. You might even forget your sense of self and instead be reduced to nothing more than a preconception told from a cameras perspective; that's when friends are the best cure, and Hobi just so happens to be that friend. These two are important for one another because whenever they're together it seems to be nothing but laughs and genuine smiles. They are carefree and able to be themselves around each other. To have that sense of freedom is probably a rare occasion for BTS in general, but even more so for the one who's know to be the "cold-hearted" and I'm happy he can find it with Hobi.

▪NAMJOON

Finally we have these two: Namjoon and Yoongi.

I've decided to save this one for last because to me they have a bond that completely differs from all others previously mentioned. These two have known each other the longest, have lived together the longest, and have seen each other at their worst points. Before debuting these two would fight constantly, both due to genuine disagreements, and also because of the countless hardships and pressure they had thrown at them. They have grown with each other and have been there to strengthen each other every step of the way.

Yoongi might not be one to express his feelings so openly, but every time I see the clip of him crying with Joon after receiving their first MAMA award It's obvious how much he does care and how much this all means to him.

To be honest, Yoongi never fails to show his love and support whenever his brothers are feeling down, and that especially goes for Joon. With him being the leader of BTS there is so much added pressure and expectations to live up to that it can be overwhelming, and on top of all of it, being the designated translator, writing and producing most of BTS' songs, and also trying to learn the choreography to go along with said song can seem next to impossible; Yoongi sees these struggles and he does all he can to help lessen the weight.

These two honestly do share one of the most profound bonds and I believe nothing could severe it completely. They might still have their fights, I mean they're human, it's bound to happen, but the respect and admiration they have for one another wins out every time.

As much as they love each other, these two also love to screw with each other too. Yoongi constantly makes fun of Joon for his clumsiness and Joon makes fun of Yoongi for his laziness, but in the end these two wouldn't be who they are without the other.

Yoongi once said in an interview that Joon is one of his favorite people he's ever met and if he had to pick a person to spend his last day with he would pick him. Then Joon in a different interview mentioned how Yoongi is basically his mirror and he takes care of the thing that Joon is unable to. These two compliment each other so well, and musically speaking, their backgrounds come from very similar places that they just know how the other runs. If Hobi allows Yoongi to act himself and to let loose physically, then Joon is his emotional release. They know how to have those deep heart-to-heart conversation without worrying what the other might think. Yoongi is able to use his words and is able to open up to Joon about any doubts, fear, or anxiety he might be struggling with, as well as using them to provide Joon with the assurance he needs that he is doing a good job as the leader; and in return, Joon gives Yoongi that sense of comfort and stability whenever he needs it.

Min Yoongi and Kim Namjoon.

Yoonie and Joonie.

Suga and RM.

AGUST D and Rap Monster.

Lil Meow Meow and Killer Dimples.

These boys are one in the same: two overall geniuses who started as underground rappers possessing skills of insane flow and destructive lyrics, then forced to become idols, who eventually helped redefined what idols are, and now are global superstars that have created the golden rapline (with Hobi), are living their wildest dreams yet still remain humble, as well as unapologetic about incorporation crucial social topics into their songs.

There's a reason these two get along so well and that's because of years of being around each other, having the same deep, philosophical thought process, and knowing that hard work, sleepless nights, and finding growth within personal struggles are what it takes to reach your ultimate goal.

The point is, if you're still with me that is haha, is that Suga tends to have this reputation that he is cold-hearted and aloof when it comes to the rest of the members, but honestly who wouldn't be exhausted and not wanting to participate in different events after having not slept for days on end and pouring their blood, sweat, tears (not intentional btw) into their creations?! Suga is one of the hardest working, passionate, individuals out there and if he didn't sacrifice so much for us, far beyond what this post can tell you, then BTS would not exist the way we know it now. It because he is willing to put his own health and well-being on hold --despite ARMY and the boys wishes-- and take on this almost altruistic behavior that I have so much respect and admiration for Yoongi. And anyone who says that this man is cold or that he hates his members...Have you not seen this man's precious, gummy smile when he's having the time of his life with his favorite people? There's a reason he chose to call himself "Suga" and that's because underneath that hard outer shell, deep down Min Yoongi is nothing but pure sweetness who isn't afraid to dream big and wants to see those he loves succeed to their fullest potential.

He is our resident grandpa, a musical genuis, and can spit fire while roasting people with the highest level of savageness you can achieve. He is the 2nd oldest, the hyung who tends to show his love when the cameras aren't rolling, and he is the backbone of BTS who slaves away in the recording studio to produce these insane tracks we all love so much. He is the only one that I've noticed who mirrors and compliments Namjoon's own thoughts and feelings and he is a huge reason why BTS has been so successful like they are.

We love you

Min Yoongi

Suga

AGUST D

Lil Meow Meow

Grandpa Yoongs

I hope you had a great birthday and thank you for everything you have done for BTS in the past, everything you're doing in the present, and everything you will do in the future. You are one of my biggest inspirations and I wish you all the best!

화이팅! 💜

[cannedapricot]

spring.

a soft art student! au with pure boy renjun ft a y/n who keeps denying her feelings! i recommend listening to a couple of bolbbalgan4′s songs while reading! their songs make me soft siuvsesuvao

word count: 4.2k filled to the brim with fluff and slice of life because i can’t write anything else yikes

Spring.

The season of blue skies, cherry blossom showers and blooming flowers.

The season of red faces, sweaty palms and shy “I love you"s.

Spring was the season of affection blooming in your chest, struggling to keep itself hidden

Spring was the season of romance.

You wished you could relate to the crowds of girls that started whispering crazily whenever a certain boy walked past. 

Or to your table mate, who keeps staring at the back of Lee Jeno’s head with lovestruck eyes.

But alas, as much as you wanted to fall in love, you couldn’t force your heart to beat faster for someone.

You were pulled out of your daze when a stray cherry blossom petal found it’s way into the warm, lazy classroom. Riding the spring wind for a small while before settling itself onto your long forgotten textbook. The moment it landed, the sharp familiar noise of the recess bell rang throughout the school and suddenly chairs scraping across the tiled floor cut through the sleepy silence.

Girls bunched up into groups, starting to gossip about who’s dating who and boys started to race towards the cafeteria. You blow the pink petal off of your history textbook, then proceed to attempt to stuff it into your already crowded desk.

"Yo Y/N, here’s the banana milk I owe you from the other day.” You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. 

“Great, Donghyuck, it’s only been a week and a half since I gave you the answers to Mr Lee’s homework.” 

The boy grinned sheepishly to your remark as you successfully squeeze the thick book into the small space.

“Look, in my defense, I was busy.” He replied, plopping himself on top of your creaky desk.

“With what? Finding a date to the spring festival?”

Ah, the spring festival. It was the festival all art students looked forward to the most. It was a festival for all the students talented in art to proudly show off their work. Artists would set up little areas where they would happily talk of their pieces to anyone interested. Musicians would be busking, whether it be with their friends or by themselves and dancers would be dancing to their heart’s content with a crowd of people cheering them on. All of this would happen under the beautiful shower of the school’s multiple cherry blossom trees. 

The main event everyone would attend though, was the musical that would play on the outside stage during the afternoon. Mr Kim Dongyoung, the teacher in charge of the musical, was notorious for being picky with the students he would let on stage and it was considered a honor if you were picked to be take part in the musical. 

You didn’t need a date per say, but rumor has it that if you and your special someone share a sweet kiss under the oldest cherry blossom tree, you’d be happy together forever.

You thought that it was a bunch of baloney.

Forever Together? How cheesy. You’d rather it that you and your significant other stuck together due to affection for each other, not due to some old tree. It shocked you to learn how many people believe in that stupid rumor. 

Your friend, Lee Donghyuck, being one of those believers. 

But of course, he’s never admitted it to your face.

“No? Come on y/n, you know I don’t believe in that! Plus, I’m in the musical this year, I don’t have time for such childish things!”

Your eyebrows raised in doubt.

“Huh. Then I guess the person I saw trying to hit on one of our underclassmen this morning wasn’t you then?”

Donghyuck’s eyes broke contact and flew away from your own as he tried to come up with a reasonable explanation as to why he had attempted to get a girl’s number this morning. His eyes met with one of the many girls who was gossiping with her friends for a hot second. She then immediately ducked back to her friends and giggles were heard soon after.

Producing sandwiches out of your bag, you watched all of this with humor sparkling in your eyes, you had to bite the inside of your mouth to prevent yourself from bursting into obnoxious laughter. 

“You know Hyuck, you could always go with Mark if everything goes wrong.” You were hit with one of his famous ‘shut up or i’ll stab you with this pencil’ glares as soon as you said that. A string of giggles attempted to leave your mouth before one of the ham sandwiches you had packed was forcefully shoved onto your face.

“I hate you, y/n. Our friendship is officially over.”

“Great. Hey Jeno! You’re promoted to my best friend now! Hyuck doesn’t love me anymore.” You yelled across the room.

Jeno, who had just returned from the cafeteria with Jaemin at his side let out a hearty laugh.

“Thank god! I’ve been meaning to get rid of Jaemin for a while now!”

“Remember to finish your essay before the end of the week. Class dismissed.”

The usual high pitched noises of chairs being pushed back and chatter from your classmates started as soon as ‘class dismissed’ was heard. The sun was still high up in the sky but it had fallen from where it had been during noon and the temperature was slowing dropping along with it.

Pushing your own chair back, you lifted your arms up in a stretch before letting out a cat-like yawn. Falling back onto the hard, wooden desk, you waved lazily back at your table mate as she bid you goodbye for the day. Closing your eyes, you found yourself relaxing at the sound of cicadas calling to each other outside. The sunlight coming through the window dyed you and your desk a warm yellow. Suddenly, the urge to take a nap came over you.

“You remind me of a big, lazy cat sometimes.” 

Groaning, you moved you head so that you were facing your stupid friend. He was sitting in the chair in front of you, sucking on a lollipop as he met your eyes.

“Hyuck, don’t you have rehearsals today? You told me that you were going to have them everyday until the festival.”

Acting like he was offended, Donghyuck said, “I thought that my best friend would be lonely without me so I thought that I’d check up on you before going.”

You smiled into your arm. Donghyuck had a sharp tongue and you were used to him insulting you every second sentence without actually meaning it. But it always made your day whenever he openly shows that he cares. 

“I’m heading to the art room in a few, so no, I won’t be.” You said, the soft smile you had eariler being replaced with a teasing grin. 

“You’ve been going there since our first year! Aren’t you tired?” 

“Not at all.” Standing up, you swung your bag across your shoulder and ruffle Donghyuck’s golden locks before heading towards the classroom door.

Before stepping out, you said, “Also, I thought that we established that I’m now Jeno’s best friend?”

“Fine then, we don’t love Lee Donghyuk anymore then.” Your friend huffed out in annoyance to himself. 

“Just kidding! Love you, Hyuck!” You shouted with a smile before making your way to the art room.

As Donghyuck had stated, the art room has been the place you go to everyday after school. You loved drawing. People had asked you why you didn’t just join the art club instead of going to an empty classroom. Simple. You loved the quietness of the empty classroom. You loved getting caught up in your own thoughts without having anyone interrupt you. Most of all, you loved his company.

Just thinking about the boy put a bounce in your step.

The boy who started showing up to the same classroom a week after you had. The boy who would just sit there in silence while you both worked on your own paintings. The boy who would only leave after you did. The boy who would give you the warmest smile whenever your eyes met.

That boy was Huang Renjun. 

You only got to know his name during the autumn of your first year. When it was pouring and you found that you left your umbrella at home. Desperate to get home before your parents start ranting about how late you returned, you were ready to run all the way home. Until Renjun offered to share his umbrella. He had flashed a shy smile and you agreed without second thought. 

From that day on, the two of you would walk home together. You’d draw in silence, comfortable with each other’s company, then make small talk on the way home. 

You still couldn’t believe he was real. It was as if the spring wind had blew him into that classroom that year and he could disappear with the cherry blossom petals at anytime.

Maybe because it was spring. Maybe it was because you wanted to fall in love before graduating high school. But recently you found yourself growing more and more fond of the art room boy.

Peeking through the windows, your eyes immediately flew to the doe eyed student. He was already sitting in front of his own canvas, paintbrush in hand. Yet another smile climbed onto your face as a frown came onto his. He obviously wasn’t pleased with his painting so far. It was an adorable sight.

You knocked twice on the door to notify him of your presence. Renjun looked up from his canvas and his eyes lit up the moment he saw you. The previous pout he had sported now replaced with a smile that could rival the sun itself. Nodding as a greeting, you pull an easel out and start dying the white, blank canvas with bright, lively colors.

The sun had began to retire from standing in the sky, casting the school in orange hues. You took one look out the window, then decided that you’d stop for the day. Standing up to give your brushes a wash, you catch the attention of Renjun, who grinned to himself before also starting to pack his things away. It was always like this, one of you would deem it a good time to finish for the day and the other would follow.

You finished packing before Renjun did and leaned against the doorway, watching the dark haired boy stash his brushes back into his bag. Why Renjun didn’t have dates everyday after school was a mystery to you. Especially when he had a face carved by god himself. Shouldn’t the girls be all over him? Also, his lips looked really soft, you’d have to remind yourself to ask him what lip balm he used later on.

“Come on, stop spacing out. Let’s go home.” A gentle voice woke you from another one of your dazes. 

“Ah, right.” Embarrassed that you were caught daydreaming, you scramble to follow Renjun out the door, tripping a little in the process. 

Falling in step beside Renjun, you can’t help but notice how much he’s grown since you two first walked side by side together. He’s a least grown half a head taller. 

“Say, y/n, are you going to be participating in the spring festival?” He asked, the small breeze ruffling his brown locks. You noted that they looked super soft and would have to ask him about the conditioner he uses later on.

“Yeah, I do so every year. Not in the musical though. I can’t sing to save myself and Mr. Kim never chooses me for backdrop design.” Renjun hummed in response, kicking a stray pebble on the side walk. 

“I don’t see you around though? Do you participate or?” You’ve never seen Renjun under the pink trees exhibiting his work. You know he’s a talented artist. You’ve sneaked enough peeks at his work to know. 

“I get chosen to do the backdrop design every year. Everyone says that Mr. Kim has a soft spot for me.” He lets out a soft chuckle. “But this year, I turned down his offer.” 

“What? Why?”

He shrugged. “I wanted to exhibit my work like everyone else this year.”

“I can finally see your paintings without looking suspicious.” You mutter victoriously to yourself.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

 “O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?”

“Y/n, could you put some emotions into your acting?” 

Thursday night, and you were at Donghyucks house, helping him rehearse one last time before the big day tomorrow. He had bugged you for ages before you caved in and shuffled to his house in your pajamas. And as if you weren’t already done with him, he then tells you to climb the tree up to his room because he couldn’t be bothered going down to open the door for you. 

“Hyuck, I’m not an actress and I’m not going to be going on stage tomorrow.” Running your hand through your hair in annoyance. Doing so reminded you that you forgot to ask Renjun about his conditioner. “Also, why Romeo and Juliet? It’s Shakespeare's most overrated piece.”

Tutting was heard from where Donghyuck was curled up on his bed. “We made changes so that it wouldn’t be a tragedy. A happy ending to the classic would make the spring season ten folds better”

You picked a stray leaf out of your hair. “Doesn’t make it any better in my opinion.”

A familiar ping signaled an arrival of a message. A smirk climbed onto your face as you realized it was from your friend’s phone. 

“Date?”

“I wish. It’s from Mark.” Donghyuck sighed, unlocking his phone. 

“Oooooh, you’re going with him then?” Rising from Hyuck’s creaky chair, you launch yourself onto the bed, clambering to sit beside your best friend. 

“No, he’s just coming to watch the musical. He might stay for a while afterwards though. And he’s bringing his university friends.” Donghyuck said as the messages came in. 

“I hope he brings some hotties.”

“Are you planning on cheating on your boyfriend or what?” Your eyebrows flew towards your hairline at his question. Boyfriend? Who? 

“Since when have I had a boyfriend?”

“Uh, the dude you walk home with?” Donghyuck mentioned as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What was he called? Huang Renjun? Jeno and Jaemin’s friend?”

“Woah, hold up. First of all, he’s not my boyfriend, he probably doesn’t even like me that way. Secondly, Jeno and Jaemin know him? Thirdly, how do you know that we walk home together?” You had no idea that Renjun was friends with Jeno and Jaemin. Those two were loud and rowdy, different from the quiet boy you saw after school. You couldn’t imagine the three of them together.

Totally ignoring your questions, the third rowdy boy you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, sits up on his bed and says,

“So you like him?”

Suddenly, the room felt a few degrees hotter. Even though the windows were open and it wasn’t summer yet. You must have a fever. 

“No?”

“Liar! Your face is bright red!” Donghyuck starts cackling, hands over his stomach. “So if he asked you out, you would turn him down?”

“No?” You repeated the same word from earlier. This time in a much smaller volume. Except your ass of a friend hears anyways.

“Y/n finally has a crush! I thought this day would never come! In spring too! What a perfect season to fall in love!” You felt as though Hyuck might as well be exclaiming this to the whole school. Your face and ears was burning from embarrassment and you wanted to bury yourself in a hole.  

“I’m going home. Practice your lines by yourself.” 

“No, I’m sorry y/n, I love you please help me.”

The love you had for Renjun was completely platonic. 

Right?

You couldn’t sleep at all last night.

After returning from Donghyuck’s, all that was going through your mind was the quiet, sweet boy from the art room. Did you really like him like that? Or were you just overthinking. And, did he like you?

It drove you mad. Romance novels didn’t have anything on this situation. Romcom movies didn’t either! . 

So you woke up this morning with a huge bed head from rolling around and obvious dark eye circles. Halfway to school, you also realized that you forgot to bring your paintings with you. So you had to run back to get them. You must’ve looked like a mess when you arrived because Donghyuck winced the moment he saw you. But it only took a light slap from him to bring you back to the hostile being you were when you were with your dumb friend.

You had successfully told yourself that your love for Renjun was platonic.

The sky was a bright blue with just enough cloud cover so that you could enjoy your day without the sun shining into your eyes. The spring breeze scattered pink petals across the school lawn and on top of the excited chatter from students and teachers. You couldn’t ask for better weather.

Blowing a strand of hair away from your face, you stood back to admire your little station. You had chosen a spot next to the walkway this year. All of your proud works surrounded a wooden stool on which you would sit on. You had been lucky enough to secure a place next to the trunk of a cherry blossom tree. This meant that the pastel petals would shower down onto your station whenever a breeze blew through. 

You took a sip of water from your water bottle and glanced at your wristwatch, pleased to see that there was still a while before the gates opened to guests. Stretching, you scanned the area around you. Jeno and Jaemin were warming up in the open piece of grass behind the tree you were situated at while a poor first and second year, Jisung and Chenle, got their speaker ready for them. Donghyuck was probably running over his lines with the female lead behind the stage. You could imagine how nervous he was at this very second.

Across the walkway from you, was where Renjun had set up his station. Right under the old tree that was rumored to keep you and your special someone together. You giggled to yourself before jogging over and tapping the chinese boy’s shoulder.

“Hey.”

Renjun’s head snapped back to face you in shock. “Y/n! You scared me!”

You sent him an apologetic smile. Turning to look at the tree, you mentioned,

“You’re going to have a fun time watching couples make out today huh.”

“Is this the- Oh no- I chose the wrong tree.” Renjun’s hand came up to his forehead in regret. “Now I have to deal with couples shoving their tongues down the other’s throat. All day.”

Putting a hand on his shoulder in mock sympathy, you shook your head. “Look on the bright side. At least this is a nice tree.”

The festival was almost over. 

The musical was a huge hit with the multiple couples that came. Even though you were still convinced that Romeo and Juliet was overrated, you were extremely proud of Donghyuck. He executed the role of Romeo perfectly and his singing nearly brought you to tears. Though he was the one who burst into tears when he stumbled off stage after the show. Jaemin and Jeno’s dancing attracted many female fans. Some of them were ready to drag them under the old cherry blossom tree.

You and Renjun’s stations were well received by the comers. You even sold a few of your pieces! You had met Renjun’s eyes at one point during the festival and burst into laughter at the look on his face. He looked super uncomfortable stuck between two couples kissing.  

It was dusk and the bright blue sky had turned purple. The sun was sinking lower into the horizon, stars popping up one by one after it. Lanterns were starting to light up and even though the festival was coming to a close, it was just as lively as it was at the beginning. This was the time where students who had participated get to enjoy themselves.

Packing your last painting away, you pat yourself on the back for a successful last spring festival of your high school career. Setting the packed bag onto your wobbly stool, you turn to face the warm, spring-like boy who was waving to his last visitor. Skipping your way over, you plopped yourself on the patch of grass next to his stool, leaning on the tree trunk. 

“How was your first and last festival running a station?” You asked with a bright smile adoring your face.

“Very, interesting.” He replied, a sweet smile on his own face. Abandoning his own stool, he fell down next to you on the grass. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many kissing couples in my entire life.”

Your shoulder was touching his. You’ve never really noticed how much wider his shoulders were compared to yours. Renjun rips open a coke flavored lollipop and pops it into his mouth. Then he pulls another one out of his bag and offers it to you, to which you politely decline.

The two of you sat under the blooming tree for a while, making small talk here and there while watching people come and go busily. Occasionally blocking each other’s eyes when a couple came sauntering up to the tree the two of you were under.

“I’m going to have to wash my eyes after today.” You had hissed, peeking between the boy’s slim fingers.��“Why aren’t they leaving. Go make out at home dammit.” You’ve never really noticed how soft Renjun’s palm is. You’ll have to ask him about the hand cream he uses later on. 

As the moon slowly rose up to take the sun’s shift, the pretty purple sky made way for the darker hues it brought. The students started yawning and the guests started bidding their goodbyes. Neither you nor Renjun moved from your spots, wanting to bathe in each other’s company for a while longer. 

“Say, y/n, do you believe in the rumor surrounding this tree?” The boy next to you suddenly piped, turning to face you. 

“Absolutely not.” You replied, certainty in your voice. “Why would an old tree have magical abilities? And how unsure do you have to feel about your relationship to actually kiss under this tree?”

You notice that Renjun started to fiddle with the lollipop stick, the candy on it long finished. Then he shuffled so that he was sitting cross legged, facing you. 

“See, I’m probably one of those people who believe it because I’m unsure.”

Your heart dropped. Oh, he was in a relationship. That explains why he didn’t have girls all over him like Jeno and Jaemin had. But why did you feel disappointed? Surely it was because he had kept his girlfriend a secret from you.

“Oh, you have a girlfriend?” You didn’t mean for it to come out in the malicious way it did.

“Ah, no, I’m unsure about our relationship.” 

Your eyes widened and you sat up from how you were leaning on the tree trunk. “Us?”

“Yeah, what are we? I would like to refer to us as friends but,” Renjun’s eyes darted to the lollipop stick in his hands. “My heart wants to refer us as a couple.”

Your heart fluttered. Heck, it wasn’t just fluttering, it was about to take off into the sky. Why was it acting like that?

“I didn’t set up under the wrong tree. I wanted to have enough courage to kiss you under the tree. I wanted us to be together forever. But it’s the end of the day and I still have yet to do it.” His voice was becoming smaller and smaller with each word, his face starting resemble a tomato by the end of his sentence. 

Without thinking, you lifted his head and pressed your lips to his. You weren’t sure how to kiss properly but the way you had done it seemed right. Pulling away, you realized that his lips tasted faintly of the sugary treat he eaten earlier. Breaking into the familiar smile that you’ve grown so fond of, Renjun pulled you back into another sweet, sugary kiss.

You didn’t believe in the stupid rumor of the old cherry blossom tree in the school grounds, but this once, you were willing to think that it was real.

You were woken from your nap when a stray cherry blossom petal found it’s way into the warm, lazy classroom. Riding the spring wind for a small while before settling itself onto your cheek. Brushing the pink piece of flower away, you sat up in your seat and stretched before gazing out the window. 

Spring had come early this year. Cherry blossoms were blooming much earlier than it had last year. Grey clouds were parting for the blue skies quicker than it had last year. 

Arrival of the pink blooming trees were a reminder that you and Renjun’s one year anniversary was coming up. 

Donghyuck had interrogated Renjun thoroughly when he found out you two were actually dating while Jeno and Jaemin both laughed at Renjun’s flustered answers. It had been smooth sailing ever since. The small disagreements you two had weren’t nearly enough to break you and the boy up.

Tearing your eyes away from the window, you rested your head on the palm of your hand, facing the rowdy boys next to you. The four of them had gotten along quite well for the past year as well. Renjun currently had Jeno and Jaemin in headlocks while Hyuck was edging your boyfriend on.

Letting out a content sigh, you looked down at your art piece you were about to submit as your graduation piece. 

It was a painting of a couple sharing a sweet kiss, under a blooming cherry blossom tree, below a purple sky. 

[coolandspicy]

Lost Fantasia recap

This is crazy long so i’ll put it under the cut!

Pre concert they play most of VIXX’s mvs on the big screens which is fun. (Super Hero and Rock Ur Body are suspiciously absent lol)

About 5 minutes before concert start time there’s this super loud count down...but after a few seconds it fades into a song? It scared me both nights tho lol!

1st Vcr - its all in black and white, people walking around in animal masks, and we see the members one by one, frozen in place seemingly?

The big curtain falls and the members are lowered from the raised platform while intense music plays

They’re wearing these sparkly Silver zigzag jackets and matching pants, they get into formation to perform and the first song is Odd Sense! It starts awesome with really cool lighting (all the lightsticks turn red) but a few seconds in the backing vocals totally cut so its just vixx singing live and the music is a bit quieter, they keep going a little longer but then suddenly the whole song cuts and Hakyeon apologizes and asks if they can start again. The lights go off and the members exit the stage.

We ended up waiting about a full hour for the technical issues to be resolved and the atmosphere was super tense; starlights were so upset and they were kind of cursing at jellyfish? At one point they chanted for an apology 😅I was seriously worried that if the problem wasn’t resolved something terrible would happen...

But the concert finally resumed and the members appeared exactly were they had been when the music cut; they performed Odd Sense, followed by Escape (during the the “run away” part starlights were even louder than ravi) and then Silence!

1st Talk session: first the members apologized again for the issues and Hakyeon asks for starlights to give them strength/energy by still cheering loudly. They go on to talk about hair colors; Hongbin has purple hair (at fans request!) Leo has blond instead of silver bc he couldn’t take any more bleach, Ravi dyed his hair to be the same color as Hyuk? Hakyeon pokes Ravi insistently waiting for Ravi to talk about his gray highlights (Ravi ignores him for a while but then finally they acknowledge Hakyeon^^)

The next song is Fantasy, after which the members disappear but Ravi stays (he took his jacket off and has the white shirt and black harness on) and does a mini solo performance (I’m calling these solos ‘mini’ bc they’re really not quite as long as the usual solo performances we see?) Ravi performs with female back up dancers and then at the end walks back upstage where the other members are waiting ( and also wearing the White shirts, black pants + harnesses)

They perform Into the void, while seated/standing with these two props shaped like some kind of rocks. After the song the members walk down stage (Leo, Ravi and Hakyeon go to the middle; Hyuk and Hongbin go all the way to the left side of the stage; and Ken goes all the way to the right) they perform Six feet under — its so hype live, I really loved it!!

2nd talk: Hakyeon complements Ravi’s performance, and asks Ravi shoot hearts to each floor/section of the audience. Then they ask what song starlights would like to see next, because the audience is not really in sync (some people are asking Leo to shoot hearts also)  Leo shoots a powerful heart before they start Trigger. This choreo oh my god!! Everything from running gun hands down their long legs, the members circling round Hakyeon poised to shoot + and the killer moment: Ravi grips Ken from behind and shoots towards the audience 👀

Then they do Beautiful killer (with even more gunhands) and descend into the stage

2nd Vcr: solo scenes!

Ravi is in the rain holding an umbrella, but the then he drops it and just lets the water soak through his jacket, then he takes of the jacket and his shirt is all wet and see though;; he throws the jacket at the audience/camera and disappears!

Hyuk has an aesthetic scene in a phone booth & with the ground covered in rose petals?? He steps out and holds a blue potion and disappears when the rose petals fall around him

At an aesthetically neon bar Hakyeon surveys the scene, looking #opulent. He considers different wines but then he snaps his fingers and a bottle of champagne appears. He pours a glass, holds it close to smell the aroma, and tosses it in our face, causing him to disappear.

Leo appears draped in sheer tapestry, wearing a blindfold(?) which he takes off. Then he just, rolls around pressing into the mattress and stuff, and disappears (I can’t describe this okay, he was a hoe and that’s all you need to know)

Ken walks into a room with bathtub & candles, he looks seductively at the candles and drips some wax into the bath water. Then he blows out one of the candles and disappears

Hongbin is in the forest at night, surrounded by mist, he disappears in the mist

Finally the screen says simply “What exists is the scent of the soul”

--

Hongbin appears in red and does a mini solo with female back up dancers,

The members appear in formation for Scentist, wearing red fringed jackets with no undershirts — also Ravi’s has a cut out in the back 👀

During Scentist lots of mist stuff came out, idk if it was actually scented but it looked cool!

Members descend into stage again, but Leo reappeared to do his mini solo with two male back up dancers, they grind on the floor and other things;; priming us for the next performance Circle. There are mic stands and the 6 people standing behind them are clearly intimately familiar with sin

3rd Talk: mostly they talk about the performances they just did, especially Hongbin and Leo’s solo parts, move on to the next song

They perform My Valentine (who knew chairs were actually the sexiest prop possible) Love Me Do is next, and the members disappear at the end, but Hyuk reappears to do mini solo reprise of Love Me Do with male back up dancers

3rd Vcr: all the members are together at a cute bar; eating drinking, reacting to vixx old stages and music videos. They talk about their memories and Hyuk gets emotional 😭

Ken rises from the stage, sings a beautiful mini solo ballad. He’s wearing all white with a long, sparkly blue coat

The VCR screens fill with constellations, and six boxes appear in the back. The members appear one by one to sing their parts of the ballad medley (which includes On A Cold Night, 닮아, 12345, Bad Bye, and maybe more?) wearing the same outfits as Ken. When members appear their box lights up and the screen behind them has their birthstone (Same as from Shangri-la birthstone version!)

The members reappear but sitting on the stage and this time they sing Us Now, near the end of the song Starlights on the second floor do their prepared event -- they hold up sheets of paper that are either yellow or blue. Together it spells out 우린 영원을 믿어 (We believe you forever) I think its especially powerful not only because it was unexpected but because of the difficulty starting the concert today. After all, isn’t that always how it’s been for VIXX? So many struggles since the beginning but they’ve worked so hard to prove themselves to us; I know I would never leave them for anything.

4th Talk: they talk about how surprising the event was, and after getting over the surprise joke around about how Starlights were bickering whenever someone was unsure/about to put their paper down. Hakyeon talks about how funny he thinks Starlights are when they accidentally make mistakes, the confusion over the fanchant for My Valentine is especially funny to him. He asks Starlights to keep confidently making mistakes ^^

They take off the jackets and perform Chained up (This is a song that I have so much fun seeing live? Its never my favorite to listen with headphones, but on a huge stage oh my god!!) The follow up with Black out, and then the members walk off but Hakyeon stays. When the lights go back on he is surrounded by female back up dancers and has blood dripping down his chest. He does a really intense dance to scary music with lots of creepy smiles and scary expressions throughout.

The members reappear and they perform Hyde altogether (it’s made even better by the fact that Hakyeon still has blood on his clothes!)

5th Talk: Hakyeon exits (to change) and 5VIXX discuss the previous performances, and how tired they are. Leo especially looks like he’s so tired ^^; Hyuk says something about being able to keep going and he does the leg popping part from the Hyde choreo; the stage directors give him some flames to go with his leg pops which encourages him to do a bunch; the other members scold him saying he’ll burn the whole place down. Hakyeon comes back freshly changed and talks about his performance -- he asks if it was scary (we all answer 네!!!! as always but slightly unsure lol bc we’re not sure if we should say that our beloved leader was scary lol) He says that means he succeeded ^^ Then he tells us it’s time for the last stage and we all whine but Hakyeon shushes us.

They perform Desperate (how we’re all feeling at this point lol) Then they disappear and male dancers appear in the outfits from the Wind of Starlight performance. The members enter wearing silk cloaks decorated with red flowers to perform Shangri-la. 

After the members disappear, Starlights cheer 사랑해 (while the overhead logo pulsates like its charging lol) until VIXX returns to perform Milky Way. They enter in the second floor carrying balloons with the letters of their stage names. Then they do Navy And Shining Gold, after which Hakyeon says its time to go but Starlights insist (One more time!) and they start doing Heaven (which of course means doing it a bunch of times lol) the boys were super cute, running, jumping, pouring water on each other lol. Hakyeon sat down and took some selfies with fans phones

After many runs, they finally said it was time to go and for everyone to go back safely, and lots of other sweet things

The end credits was a behind the scenes video with Good Day as the bgm (which means every song on EaudeVixx was featured ^^)

I’ll forever be jealous of Starlights on the second floor but ultimately I feel so grateful to have had this opportunity and I thank VIXX and Starlights both for making Lost Fantasia the best concert possible!

[newyorktheater]

Paul Rudnick

You’re getting attention for “Coastal Elites,” which was supposed to be a play at the Public Theater, but launches as a film on HBO September 12th, starring Bette Midler, Kaitlyn Dever, Dan Levy, Sarah Paulson, and Issa Rae in five separate monologues about coping with the new abnormal. Less heralded is your role as Tweeter of Trump family foibles; some of these Tweets strike me as mini-plays, and others just draw blood. How did you come up with the two enterprises, and do you consider them connected in any way?

Paul Rudnick: As with everybody else, Twitter lets me talk back to the Trump administration. It’s like an anti-anxiety medication, and I’ve been trying to make my tweets mostly funny, instead of just constant howls of anguish. The Twitter community intrigued me, from every side of the political divide; it’s like a global town hall. It’s insane and filled with crackpots, but I like logging on to follow the world’s reactions to unfolding events in real time. Trump has galvanized Twitter and the weirdest part is, he pays attention to it. He’s furious when #TrumpMeltdown or #TrumpIsAnIdiot are trending.

I wanted to capture some of this rawness and frenzy in “Coastal Elites.” Right after the 2016 election I went to see my doctor for a check-up. He’s a very circumspect, ultra-professional guy, and he looked shell-shocked. He said that all of his patients didn’t want to talk about any medical problems – they couldn’t stop talking about the election. I wondered if this obsessiveness would subside, but it’s only expanded. And that’s where “Coastal Elites” came from. I started writing it about a year ago, and I was able to rewrite up until shooting, which ended a little over a month ago. We filmed the show remotely, with every possible Covid protection, and our director, Jay Roach and the amazing cast were incredibly helpful – everyone was hyper-informed about every nuance of politics.

The piece was always a collection of monologues, which also reflects Twitter, where people can pour out their frustrations without getting interrupted.

Neither of these projects are theater in any normal definition of theater, although it feels like there’s a theatrical sensibility at work (whatever that means.) I know you’ve had a varied career as a writer [e.g. films such as  Addams Family Values and In & Out; essay collections such as I Shudder], but many people see you primarily as a playwright [The Collected Plays of Paul Rudnick] Or at least I certainly do, given that I’ve been attending your plays since “Poor Little Lambs.” Do you see yourself that way? Yet now playwrights are focusing online. Do you foresee any lasting effect on the theater of the current period, when “theater” and “online theater” are basically synonymous?

I very much think of myself as first and foremost a playwright. That’s how I started and that’s the world I love. When I started writing “Coastal Elites” it felt theatrical but I wasn’t sure where it would land; I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. I’ve written monologues before and combined them into full evenings – this was the structure of my play “The New Century,” which was produced at Lincoln Center. I knew “Coastal Elites” wanted to be monologues, because I was dealing with characters at peaks of emotion and storytelling; they’re all in crisis. Monologues can be like songs in musicals – they’re outbursts.

We were originally going to stage “Coastal Elites” for a series of performances at the Public Theater in NYC, with a live audience, which Jay Roach would film for HBO. When the pandemic hit this became impossible, but then HBO and the show’s production team, which includes Jeffrey Seller, Scott Chaloff and Flody Suarez, all with extensive backgrounds in theater, wondered if there was another route. Once we knew that our cast and crew could be kept safe, Jay and I talked about how the show could be filmed remotely. Because the pieces are monologues, they lent themselves to the intense focus and intimacy of being filmed for TV. It’s like having a front row seat for performances by an incredible cast.

I never anticipated any of this, but the format ended up feeling like a great match for the material, and thanks to Jay, it doesn’t feel limited.

I’ve watched a lot of online theater, and much of it is amazing, especially because the times we’re living in give the shows such yearning. But with all that, I’m like everybody else: I’m desperate for the live event, to see actors onstage, to react as part of a packed theater, and to be in a rehearsal room. I have a new play called “Guilty Pleasure,” which was scheduled for this Fall at the LaJolla Playhouse, to be directed by my long-time collaborator, Chris Ashley. The production has understandably been postponed to next Fall.

I love how theater people are adapting creatively to the shutdown, and trying to stay economically afloat. And online theater will continue to be a world to explore, but nothing replaces, or will ever replace, live theater. It’s too essential and too joyous.

Ok, but do you think this moment of online theater experimentation will have any kind of effect on live theater itself when live theater returns?

The online experimentation during the pandemic will certainly affect subject matter, in terms of plays or musicals taking place during this period. It’s part of the internet’s and social media’s ongoing effect on theater; artists are inventing ways to include the online world in live events, with regard to everything from dating apps to TikTok. The world lives online, and theater had already begun to reflect that. Also, auditions and meetings were already taking place virtually, but this may become even more commonplace. Zoom readings will probably remain a useful tool for writers, actors and directors, as a shorthand during the development of theater projects. Maybe the pandemic has normalized a new form of rehearsal, especially for performers whose personal lives and schedules don’t always allow everyone to be in the same room.

Even more than the pandemic, the Black Lives Matter movement is already having a huge and welcome effect on theater. Artists have been using this downtime to examine how theater, at every level, can become truly inclusive. Whenever life returns to something resembling normal, theater may, in many necessary ways, be changed forever.

What was lost in “Coastal Elites” by having it become a film on HBO rather than a play at the Public Theater?

I’m not sure what was lost in transforming Coastal Elites from a theatrical experience to a filmed one. On one hand, comedy benefits enormously from audience response; but I watched our cast navigate this potential obstacle with incredible skill, and the script gained an intensity. Most of our cast has stage and film experience, so they drew on both. Also, on a sheerly practical level, it most likely would have been impossible to assemble this particular group of actors for a stage run, due to their schedule demands and other commitments. So while I miss having a live audience, and the thrill that can provide, I’m so grateful that these performances have been captured on film.

In the monologue The Blonde Cloud in “Coastal Elites,” Issa Rae portrays a former schoolmate of Ivanka, who calls her “Dracula with a blowout!” In your writing (especially in your feed), you focus more attention — more venom and more wit — on Ivanka than Donald. Why? Is there a strategy in that?

Trump has become a hopelessly easy and infuriating target. We know he’s a horrific tyrant. I’ve tried to approach his ongoing damage from an angle. Ivanka, who claims to empower women, has denied all of her father’s sexual assaults, and when asked about his war on women’s reproductive freedom, she smiles brightly, and refuses to answer, claiming such matters aren’t in her “portfolio.” She, along with her family members, have wholeheartedly supported Trump’s bigotry, lies and his many other crimes.

Ivanka has tried to remain in an untouchable bubble, which is insulting to all Americans. She’s constantly retweeting praise for herself, along with hopelessly privileged and out-of-touch advice: in the early days of the pandemic, she posted photos of herself making pillow forts with her kids at her Washington estate, and flew private to her family’s resorts. None of this is okay and a lot of it is ripe for satire. In Coastal Elites, I examined this situation through a character who’s every bit as rich and powerful as Ivanka, but her moral opposite. The brilliant Issa Rae plays Callie, who attended boarding school with Ivanka, but who’s been raised with a sense of responsibility and service. Their reunion, at the White House, raises the stakes for everyone involved.

The five monologues of “Coastal Elites”  each seem to represent different aspects of the new abnormal. Which are you most hopeful about?

I can be as anxious and pessimistic as anyone, but this can be self-defeating. I’ve been inspired by the millions of people, all over the world, who are figuring out work, family, love and basic survival right now. One of the Coastal Elite characters is a young nurse from Wyoming, superbly played by Kaitlyn Dever, who comes to New York to volunteer as a frontline worker, The courage of doctors, nurses and healthcare workers remains astonishing. Even in the early days, without any protective equipment, they worked around the clock, providing care and whenever possible, saving lives. This degree of sacrifice is both staggering and hopeful; these workers are an inspiration to all of us.

In addition, I wanted Coastal Elites to be a tribute to the sense of humor that’s helping everyone cope. Bette Midler plays Miriam, a public school teacher and hardcore New York liberal who’s very much a tribute to my Mom and her sisters. Their passion and wisecracks always gave me hope, and I see their spirit in so many people. Bette Midler herself gives me hope: she’s a legendary performer whose tweets are hilarious and outrageously committed to changing the world for the better. Theater artists always give me hope. No one pursues theater to make a fortune or have an easy life. People work in the theater because they can’t imagine doing anything else. The pandemic has made theater almost impossible, but the theater community has stayed in constant touch, Theater people don’t give up, and that’s hope itself.

Paul Rudnick On Coastal Elites, Trash-Tweeting Ivanka, and How Bette Midler and Theater Give Him Hope You're getting attention for "Coastal Elites," which was supposed to be a play at the Public Theater, but launches as a film on HBO September 12th, starring Bette Midler, Kaitlyn Dever, Dan Levy, Sarah Paulson, and Issa Rae in five separate monologues about coping with the new abnormal.