far from born again !

i pinch my skin, tug at my hair, remind myself that i am alive. remind myself to greet the morning. remind myself that it’s all about forward motion. it’s all about change. it’s all about that elusive state. freedom.

[anemerald]

[ bright vachirawit, demi-male, he/they ]  shh ! BANYAT “BRANDON” POHNTHACHIT, the TWENTY-TWO year old SECOND year LITERATURE major from LOS ANGELES, USA, is known as an EMERALD around here. HE was invited to join because HIS WRITING AND DETERMINATION TO BECOME SUCCESSFUL ON HIS OWN TERMS IMPRESSED HIS PREDECESSOR, and now, they’re here to stay. HE reminds me of THE BREATHLESSNESS YOU FEEL WHEN YOU LOOK OVER A PRECIPICE, THE REFRACTION OF LIGHT THROUGH SHATTERED GLASS, & A PEACOAT BUTTONED TO THE THROAT.

dossier & playlist & pinterest

*there’s a full cw list in the bio but the app has a drunk driving and rehab mention on the first page, just as a warning!

                         + some wanted plots below the cut:

I ‘d love to see someone with a Hollywood connection/someone who was familiar with Brandon before The Gap Year happened! Hollywood’s still a pretty touchy topic for Brandon, and he’s spent most of his time at Strathmore trying to distance himself from his past and the person he used to be. Is there judgement? Pity? Starstruckness? He hates all of these things! Fun!

I think connections from The Gap Year itself could also be interesting! Brandon was in a facility in the southern part of France for most of his time in the EU, but he spent a few months backpacking around Europe, as well. Someone on the trip was the one who convinced him to apply to Strathmore⁠—wouldn’t it be a crazy small world if they saw each other again? ;) 

Though Brandon’s largely changed his tune toward the people in the society, his attitude toward the society itself is still largely dismissive. I’d love to see how this creates tension with people more serious about the society and its rules, especially given that Brandon’s approach to voicing his disapproval is incessant inquisition.

I think Poppy could be an interesting point of connection for some of the Opals! One of the big thing’s Brandon’s had to come to terms with is that there was so much he didn’t know about Poppy⁠—but also, as someone who regularly read her writing, he likely got glimpses insights into her psyche that some of the society members didn’t (probably not actually because i don’t wanna step on Poppy Canon).

Brandon has this pesky little incessant need to be loved and Perceived, but he also has a fear of building a connection, ruining it, and being hurt/potentially backsliding. I imagine this has led to Situationships in the past; I’m not saying ghosting and self-sabotage, but I’m not not saying ghosting and self-sabotage, you know? While this specific plot-bunny was conceived as romantically-coded, I think it could also apply to platonic relationships. Brandon makes friends easily but sorta keeps them at arm’s length.

I want Brandon to fall in love but I don’t think Brandon wants Brandon to fall in love. :’( Brandon isn’t the one controlling the story, though, so does it really matter what Brandon wants? (the irony!)

[anemerald]

VANESSA SILVA.

[ . . . ]

There is a soft click as Vanessa closes the laptop and sets it aside when Brandon begins speaking of jealousy. He’s close, like an arrow hitting the back of the target. Yes, of course she is jealous of them — but not because a Google search summons adoration for a Hollywood heartthrob or a list of his achievements that cannot be taken away from him. There is a sharper edge to her envy, one Vanessa can’t name or describe. Instead, she lets it darken her gaze as she stares at them. “And why should I be?” she asks, quieter now. “What do you have that you think I don’t, Pohnthachit? Enlighten me.”

» What do you have that you think I don’t?

For a single, serendipitous moment, they are on the exact same page. Brandon’s asked himself the same question, and he doesn’t have a good answer. There are easy answers, certainly: money, power, fame. A certainty in self-concept, arguably. There’s the correct answer: the Sword of Damocles hanging at their neck, decked in tinsel and nicknamed love. Masquerade it as a spotlight, if that’s more palatable, but the functionality remains identical. Step under the blade (be born with its tip to your neck), relish in its glory, die to its whim. Is that what you want, Silva? 

There is, of course, the honest answer: that Vanessa shouldn’t be jealous of Brandon. Vanessa Silva has the world unfolded at her feet and the will to make whatever mark she wants on it. She could be anything, become anyone, be beholden to nobody. She doesn’t have the weight of birthright on her shoulders, the understanding that she was born to have every last drop of her spirit devoured by the public. She doesn’t have puppet strings attached to her joints, blood-red and sinewy. Brandon spares a glance toward the closed laptop. She doesn’t have the ghost of the girl she killed smiling back at her like the world is good. That’s what Vanessa doesn’t have that Brandon has, he thinks.

But Brandon’s feeling petty and nasty and oddly hurt, and he can tell by the darkness in Vanessa’s eyes that he hit a nerve. His smile cants dangerously soft, intimate as a lover. “Why do you want to be?” they parrot. Who do you see when you look at me? “I can be anything you want, baby.” It’s terribly out of character, a line straight out of a script three years out of date and twice rewritten. Still, the role is comfortable, familiar - a well-worn second skin. The ghosts are out in full force today. “Although, I guess that’s normally your thing, huh? We can start there, if you wanna make a list.” There’s a PR-perfect lightness to Brandon’s voice, but no light in his eyes. “I don’t have to be fake to get what I want. Doesn’t that get tiring, Nessie?”

[anemerald]

HER MAJESTY QUEEN MIA OF SWISS MISS  ⇌  .TXT

mia: picture catherine o'hara when she yells kevin, that's me right now

mia: except i'm yelling brandon in a french accent

mia: i don't care about people searching my home i just don't want a giant suitcase in the middle of the room

mia: i almost walked into it last night

mia: i could've broken my face, which could've been a national tragedy

mia: lizzie 2 would've had to fly flags at half mast

brandon: lmfaooooo thx mom

brandon: but dude how much shit did u pack? isnt this like a temp thing

brandon: maybe u should become one of those white ppl into minimalism????????

brandon: if it makes u feel better tho if/when queen liz does half mast for u ill steal the flags n fly our matching swimsuits instead ✌️

[yourstype]

Bright ELLE idol

[anemerald]

🍸 hey king, huge fan ! follow up q, who are you having hand holding dreams about ? tmz and the people want to know

“tmz?”  a  laugh,  derisive.  “tmz,  hah.  tmz . . . can  suck  me  from  the  back,  bro.  with  how  much  money  i’ve  made  them?  they  owe  me  one.  ‘n  breakfast  in  the  morning,  too.  mm,  brunch.  now  that  would  slap.  ANYWAY,  i  know  i’m  not,  like,  the  most  friendly  person  around,  but  the  only  liver  i’m  feedin’  to  those  vultures  is  mine,  so.  yeah.  you  can  take  this  question  and  also  su      ”  

“wait.  izz’at  the  right  myth?  like,  the  one  with  the  dude  and  the  rock  ‘n  stuff.  d’you  get  the  metaphor?  that  actually  kinda  works,  dude  -  ah,  shit,  where’s  my  phone?  ‘m  gonna  write  this  down  for  later.”

[anemerald]

HER MAJESTY QUEEN MIA OF SWISS MISS  ⇌  .TXT

mia: did you make it home safe?

mia: if so, i'll happily listen to any and all unpacking tips because my suitcase feels like it's going to remain untouched a little more each second

brandon: no. u left me in france. currently reenacting home alone but like reversed oui oui fromage

brandon: ok anyway my tip for unpacking is uhhh dont?

brandon: white ppl r into minimalism now right? if ur flat gets searched just say its a lifestyle thing

[sentencestarters-and-asks]

Send a space thing for questions

Planets: Life

Mercury: What’s your full name? 

Venus: What’s your first language? 

Earth: Where’s your home? 

Mars: What’s your sexuality? 

Jupiter: Do you have any siblings? 

Saturn: Any pets? 

Uranus: What’s your hobby? 

Neptune: When’s your birthday? 

Pluto: What time is it right now where you are? 

Moon: What are you currently studying/hope to study? 

Stars: Experiences

Sun: Have you ever had alcohol? 

Sirius: Have you ever failed a class? 

Rigel: Have you ever gone on a rollercoaster? 

Deneb: Have you ever been out of your home country? 

Arcturus: Have you cried out of something other than sadness? 

Betelgeuse: What’s something you can never forget about? 

Aldebaran: What’s something you care desperately about? 

Canopus: Have you ever broken a bone? 

Bellatrix: Have you ever been forced to lie/keep a secret? 

Alphard: Have you ever lost a friend?

Vega: What’s something you’ve done that you wish you hadn’t? 

Constellations: Favourites

Centaurus: Favourite holiday?

Orion: Favourite month?

Cassiopeia: Favourite book?

Delphinus: Favourite study?

Hercules: Favourite instrument?

Gemini: Favourite song?

Pegasus: Favourite place to be?

Libra: Favourite colour? 

Phoenix: Favourite thing to wear?

Aries: Favourite movie? 

Cygnus: Favourite weather? 

Hydra: Favourite sound? 

Galaxies: Love/Friends  

Milky Way: Who’s your oldest friend?  

Andromeda: Do you consider yourself social? 

Black Eye Galaxy: Do you believe in love at first sight? 

Cartwheel Galaxy: When was your first kiss? 

Cigar Galaxy: How’s your flirting skills? 

Comet Galaxy: Have you ever had to leave a relationship because someone changed too much? 

Pinwheel Galaxy: Would you date the last person you talked to? 

Sombrero Galaxy: Do you have a crush right now? 

Bode’s Galaxy: Have you ever had a secret admirer? 

Sunflower Galaxy: Would you date/make friends with someone out of pity? 

Tadpole Galaxy: Would you deny a relationship/friendship? 

Whirlpool Galaxy: Have you ever cried over a breakup? 

Other stuff: Wishes 

Comet: What’s your big dream? 

Asteroid: What does your dream life look like? 

Meteor: What’s something you wish you could tell, but can’t? 

Nebula: If you could undo one thing in your life, what would it be? 

Shooting Star: If you could bring back one thing, what would it be? 

Pulsar: What do you hope to do in the next 10 years? 

Supernova: What’s one thing you want to do before you die? 

Quasar: If you could spend the rest of your life with only one person, who would it be? 

Wormhole: What’s something you wish would happen, but know won’t? 

Black Hole: What’s the last thing you want to see? 

[virusinfected-memes]

THREE (3) CHOICES ;

Send an emoji below + three (3) different characters / muses that my muse must pick from! Some choices are considered ns / fw.

💍 - fuck, marry, kill. 💎 - unsex, divorce, revive. 💋 - hug, cuddle, kiss. 💫 - fight, tickle, insult. 🦋 - befriend, adopt, ignore. 🥊 - pinch, slap, punch. ✨ - summon, banish, absorb. 🔗 - handcuff, tie up, pin down. 🦷 - lick, suck, bite. 🗳️ - vote for, vote against, run against. ☕ - get coffee with, go out to dinner with, steal their food. 💤 - sleep with fully clothed, sleep with in underwear, sleep with naked. 💰 - rob a bank with, hide a body with, rat out to the cops. 🚦 - be stuck in an elevator with, be stuck in traffic with, be stuck in the apocalypse with. 🎉 - hang out with, party with, ghost. 🔛 - make love to, have a quickie with, be rough / kinky with. 🍪 - make cookies for, make a five-course meal for, burn all their food. 🔪 - protect, attack, fight side-by-side with. 💬 - SEND IN YOUR OWN THREE OPTIONS NOT LISTED ABOVE!

[anemerald]

🍸 — do you miss home ?

a  sweet  smile. ( the  alcohol  tastes  sweet  at  home. )  “no.”

[anemerald]

lindsay lohan in herbie fully loaded, the snapchat hot dog, michelle obama's arms, john mulaney yelling no in mick jagger's voice, jessie j, ronald mcdonald & bernie sanders' mittens

send me six fun folx !

do the sexy love™ with : michelle obama’s arms !

sacrifice myself for : bernie sanders’ mittens !

kick : the snapchat hot dog !

take to prom : john mulaney saying ‘no’ in mick jagger’s voice AND lindsay lohan circa herbie fully loaded (feat. herbie i hope) !

abandon in jurassic park : jessie j !

push off a bridge : ronald mcdonald !

[anemerald]

🍸 have you ever had sex dreams about anyone in the society?

“hah,  wouldn’t  you  like  to  know.”  the  words  are  slurred.  unbothered.  ah,  but  this  is  an  answer,  isn’t  it?  they  could  stop  here.  they  don’t.

“y’know  what?  y’really,  really  wanna  know  what?  i  fuckin’  wish  the  dreams  i  had  were  sex  dreams.  that  would  make  sense,  y’know?  like,  objectively,  everyone  in  this  stupid  club  is  pretty  hot.  at  least  an  8.5.  but  noooooo,  i’m  stuck  with  the  hand-holding  dreams.  i’m  stuck  with  the  fuckin’ . . . the  fuckin’  love  letter  dreams.  the  nostalgia  for  a  love  i  never  even  had  dreams.  the  dreams  where  he  smiles  at  me  like  that  ‘n  the  winter  melon’s  blooming  and,  and,  the  spaces  are  all  full  AND  it’s  all  memory,  bro.  not  imagination.”

“shit’s  nasty,  dude.  why  can’t  i  just  be  horny?”

[anemerald]

vanessa, noah, mack, aislin, valen, hollis

send me six fun folx !

do the sexy love™ with : mack !   @aquvmarines

sacrifice myself for : hollis !   @gvrnets

kick : noah !   @oldnorths

take to prom : aislin !   @aislinswalsh

abandon in jurassic park : valen !   @valcn

push off a bridge : vanessa !   @carneliean

[roleplaymemesforyou]

Send 🍸+ a question and my muse will answer while drunk.

[neganmaggie]

send 6 characters/people and i’ll tell you who i would:

do the sexy love™ with

sacrifice myself for

kick

take to prom

abandon in jurassic park

push off a bridge

[anemerald]

VANESSA SILVA.

A snippy remark about preferring an audience is on the tip of her tongue when the door abruptly closes in her face, and Vanessa is too shocked to be angry at first. This is just like Brandon: acting out like a spoiled teenager, sitting high and pretty like they’re atop a throne instead of whisked away to France’s snow-topped mountains with the rest of the society. Eyes flashing, Vanessa lifts a hand to knock on the door the same moment Brandon reopens the door, and she nearly raps her knuckles on their forehead.

Nearly. Her narrowed eyes ease, settle back into as neutral of an expression as she can manage for Brandon’s sake (which is to say, not very neutral at all). “Are you that pissed about being here with us, instead of in Hollywood with your famous posse? Not enough cameras here to keep you happy, I guess.” With little regard for Brandon’s frame taking up most of the door, Vanessa shimmies past them and sits on their bed. “But that’s not my question. I wanted to ask you something else. When I was a kid, I always had to go to my neighbor’s house after school. They had a kid around my age, so we’d do homework together, have snacks together and watch TV together. She was obsessed with this one show from America, and would always try to get me to watch it…”

Vanessa smiles angelically at Brandon — a warning sign, to be sure. “So my question for you is… What was it like living the best of both worlds, Pohnthachit?” She turns the laptop in her hands around so he can see the episode that’s buffered.

» It’s all Brandon can do to follow Vanessa into his room, bewildered. She just keeps talking and talking and seriously - what kind of delusional narrative has she constructed in her head? It actually kind of . . . gets to them. They’ve known each other for months, now, and that’s what she assumes about him? This is just like Vanessa. Yes, blithe ignorance of anything the other says is a fundamental aspect of their relationship. But this is pushing it a bit. Isn’t it? He’s not that person anymore. He is not that person anymore. He opens his mouth to ask if she’s projecting, but before any words can escape, she pulls out the laptop. 

A sixteen-year-old Brandon smiles back at them. There’s a sincerity in his eyes, his love for acting and the screen radiating through the monitor, and Brandon feels the irrational urge to reach through the screen and shake the kid and say hey, you can turn back. you can say no. you can be free.

It would be useless, they know; Brandon’s never been good at taking advice. Case in point: instead of shutting this down, they let a familiar smile spread across their features, beatific and beautiful and utterly empty. If this is what Vanessa wants, if this is the Brandon she sees, Brandon can perform. “Aw,” he coos, sickly sweet, “is this your way of confessing you’re my fan, Silva? Y’want me to smile at you and hit you with a ‘Heyyy, Nessie?’” Intellectually, Brandon knows that this is a terrible idea, that he is playing straight into Vanessa’s ridiculous psychological trap, but he nonetheless bridges the distance and pushes play on the device. “Or . . . did you wanna be Sam Prathum, instead?” The scene unfolds between them, idyllic, a discordant soundtrack to whatever fucked up cosmic script is playing out in real life. The Brandon on the screen laughs at something Miley says. The Brandon in real life feigns shock. “Why, Vanessa . . . are you jealous? Of little ol’ me?”

[soracities]

how did you grow to be the person you are?

a lot of kicking and screaming, a lot of crying (endless crying), a lot of bumbling confusion, a lot of late night reckonings, a lot of bruises, many self-inflicted (some permanent, stamped in the bone), a lot of learning to look at my life like cultivation, not a destination, a lot of accepting that there is still - will always be - more to grow into, and out of, that nothing is set, nor should it be and that who i ‘am’ is really just a soft and quiet nothing, only a momentary flicker, a series of responses & impulses that arise to whatever circumstances i’m in right now, that i won’t be her a year from now, a month, a week. the light will shift and so will i. but so it goes, bb.

[anemerald]

JOSEPHINE AYDIN.

status     :     open  !

location     :     upstairs  balcony  at  the  chalet  !

          not  unlike  a  child  on  christmas  morning,  josie  was  restless  enough  in  the  wee  hours  of  the  early  morning  that  she’d  pulled  herself  from  bed  long  before  sunrise.  if  she  had  to  guess,  it  had  more  to  do  with  the  unfamiliar  location  rather  than  the  excitement  of  it  all.  still,  it’s  inherently  peaceful  with  the  rest  of  the  society  seemingly  still  asleep  and  darkness  like  a  warm  blanket  over  the  entirety  of  the  chateau.  quiet  as  a  church  mouse,  josie  moved  through  the  house,  taking  great  care  not  to  disturb  the  other  residents  in  her  mission  for  a  warm  drink  and  quiet  solitude,  a  chance  to  enjoy  the  peace  before  another  day  of  activities  began.  which  is  how  she’d  found  herself  settled  on  one  of  the  plush  sofas  outside,  hot  tea  cradled  in  her  hand  and  a  (  stolen  )  plush  blanket  draped  over  her  legs.  though  it’s  mostly  still  dark,  the  first  shades  of  pink  are  just  beginning  to  fill  the  sky  when  her  silence  is  broken  by  the  company  of  another.     ❝  i  didn’t  think  anyone  else  would  be  up  yet,  ❞     she  hummed  quietly,  warm  smile  offered  in  their  direction  as  she  patted  the  seat  beside  her.     ❝  you’re  just  in  time  for  the  sunrise,  though,  if  you’d  like  to  join  me.  ❞

» A lifetime ago, Brandon had told Buzzfeed that his favorite hobby was sleeping. This wasn’t a lie, but just because it was an activity he enjoyed didn’t mean it was one that came naturally to him. Years of filming schedules and irregular habits had all but obliterated Brandon’s circadian rhythm - a troublesome development, but one that enabled emotionally fulfilling activities, such as watching the sunrise alone, swaddled in a blanket and his thoughts.

. . . or maybe not so alone, in this case. Josie greets Brandon before he can make a hasty retreat, and he responds with a bleary blink. “It’s fucking freezing,” he grumbles, but he takes the offered seat anyway, burrowing himself deeper into his blanket. He doesn’t offer anything else in the way of conversation, instead letting the pink swathes of sunrise spill lazily over the morning mist. Eventually, he cracks. “I dunno about you, but this isn’t exactly how I’d imagined my winter hols going, like, ever. I’ve always been more of a chamoy than a Chamonix kinda guy, y’know?” He squints at the first golden rays of sun breaking the horizon. “But this isn’t so bad, I guess.” The trip? The present company? The society? Maybe it’s all of the above. Maybe.