Like a month ago I made a post asking people to but queer musicals in the tags and I was gonna make some big list with bootlegs and descriptions and stuff but I didn’t have the time so here’s just the list I had saved to notes and if you want bootlegs of them I might have them over at @leg-boots. Feel free to correct and add to this list. Ok there’s been a lot of corrections and additions so I can’t keep up, just check through the comments to see them all haha
The Las Cienegas National Conservation Area in Arizona includes more than 45,000 acres of rolling grasslands and woodlands that connect several “sky island” mountain ranges and lush riparian corridors. Located in the heart of the Las Cienegas NCA, the historic Empire Ranch includes a 22-room adobe and wood-frame building which dates to 1870 and is listed in the National Register of Historic Places. The setting makes it a favorite of classic western film fans. Red River, Duel in the Sun, Hombre, Winchester 73, The Big Country, and many others were filmed on or near the Empire Ranch – still a working cattle ranch to this day.
You can camp in this historic NCA for up to 14 days – just stay at least one-quarter mile from wildlife and livestock watering areas. Check out the two designated primitive camp and picnic areas: Cieneguita Camp Area and Road Canyon Camp.
me: hey where’s the bathroom person from California: well, go east and take a right out the front door, get into an uber, take the 101 to the 110, get back on San Vicente, take it to the 10 then la cienega north, switch over to the 405 and let it dump you out to mulholland, look for Lowe’s, the one on Pinko, go down sunset and runyon canyon, take a left in the lot and look for Ethan. ask him how to get to the in n out in Burbank, then cut across tahini to chop off a solid ten minyutes. get on the 5, switch to the 73 to where it connects to the 45, when you see Disney Concert Hall, stop and GET OUT me: thanks. i’ll piss in the yard
If you drove a V8 engine with a single plane crankshaft eighty miles per hour in good traffic, you took the I-5 to the 405 to the 10 east, got off on La Cienega, went right on Washington, north on Vermont, and then snuck up Selma using the back alley, you could do it in an hour, forty-two minutes, and still have time for tacos.
yeah we got drunk on la cienega boulevard, takin’ pictures of people we thought were stars, it’s easy to give in to your heart when you’re drunk on la cienega boulevard, when the song comin’ out of the speakers was the band that you had on your t-shirt, we were screamin’ cause all the streets were empty
You were supposed to be home hours ago. Your phone was ringing nonstop as your parents left voicemail after voicemail, threatening to call the cops if you didn’t pick up.
Shawn chuckled as you tucked your phone back into your pocket and reached for the bottle of vodka that was wrapped in a brown paper bag, taking a swig and scrunching your face at the burning alcohol.
“How much trouble do you think you’re in?” He asked while wrapping his arm around your shoulders.
You shrugged, really not wanting to talk about your parents. It was gonna ruin the short amount of time you had left with Shawn before he had to go back on the road.
You felt his gaze on you as he spoke, “Have you given anymore thought to coming on tour with me? Online school is a thing you know-”
You stopped walking which cut off his sentence, “Y/N what are you-”
“The song, Shawn!” You beamed as he furrowed his brows before breaking out into a grin.
The song The Less I Know The Better by Tame Impala blasted from a nearby store that had it’s doors wide open. You grabbed Shawn’s hand and began obnoxiously singing the lyrics, he soon joined in and of course he sang the lyrics beautifully.
“Someone said they left together,” You loudly sang while jumping around the empty sidewalk, still holding Shawn’s hand.
“I ran out the door to get her, she was holding hands with Trevor” Shawn sang through his laughter.
He stopped moving around with you and grabbed your waist, holding you close to him. You both held eye contact for a few seconds before he broke it by looking down at your lips.
Shawn licked his lips before leaning in, you instantly melted into the kiss as your arms wrapped themselves around his neck. He was the first to pull apart, he still kept his arms around your waist though.
“Hey, you’re wearing the shirt I bought you at their concert.” Shawn pointed out while pulling at the bottom of the black tee you wore.
You smiled at the memory of that night. It was your the week before your birthday when the band announced they were going on tour so Shawn stayed up all night to get tickets to the closest venue. It was one of the best nights of your life.
and you wrote i love you in lipstick on the mirror, we were laughin’ until we were breathless, never felt anything so reckless, we were all lit up and restless
You laid in the hotel bed which had a perfect view of the bathroom where Shawn stood brushing his teeth, two more nights till he had to leave again.
Sighing, you decided that you needed to distract yourself from thinking of him leaving. You stood and walked over to where he was looking at himself in the mirror and wrapped your arms around his bare body.
“You alright, baby?”
You nodded against his back, but he knew something was up. You were never this quiet.
Shawn frowned at himself in the mirror as he rubbed your arms that were wrapped around him. He spotted your red lipstick near the sink and an idea popped into his head.
He tapped your arm which made you let go of him as he turned around and smiled at you, “I need you to close your eyes for a minute,”
You raised your eyebrows at him but nonetheless listened and shut your eyes before he turned back around.
Shawn’s tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth as he wrote on the glass, your lipstick tube slowly getting smaller as he worked. He made a mental note to check the brand name and shade color so he could buy you another one.
“Open them now,”
You opened your eyes to see Shawn standing to the side and written in your red lipstick on the mirror was, I love you Y/N, forever and always.
Shaking your head, you tried to fight the grin that was forming on your face. You giggled as Shawn bent down to grab you by your thighs to lift you up onto the counter.
“I love you too, by the way.” You mumbled as you rested your forehead against his.
“Forever and always?” The look he gave you made your heart melt. He definitely had you wrapped around his finger.
You nodded, “Forever and always.”
Shawn pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before picking you up once again and made his way to the large bed in the middle of the room.
“Let’s make the most of our time together, yeah?” Shawn spoke as he ran his hands down your bare thighs.
Your breath got caught in your throat as you felt his hands wander higher, his fingers finally sticking themselves in the band of your underwear as he slowly pulled them down.
“Please,” You whispered before attaching your lips to his.
yeah, we got a little higher than we probably should, we were in a hotel singin’ in the hallway lights we were strikin’ the matches right down to the ashes setting the world on fire, setting the world on fire
Shawn had no idea where you got the blunt from, but he didn’t question it. It was your last night together and he just wanted to be with you, simple as that.
You took your last hit before passing it it him and cuddling further into his side, you two were laying together in the hotel room, Shawn’s flight was scheduled to leave in 8 hours and you were absolutely dreading it.
“Stop thinking about me leaving,” He scolded as he pulled you closer to him.
You nodded as you sniffled, not even realizing you had began crying till Shawn reached over to wipe the tears that ran down your cheek.
“I just hate that we have to be apart for so long.” You confessed.
Shawn sighed before speaking, “Give me a good reason besides your parents not wanting you to that’s gonna make it impossible for you to go with me.”
You opened your mouth to say something, but you honestly couldn’t think of anything. Your parents were the main reason you were so hesitant about leaving with Shawn. They had molded it into your brain that you wouldn’t be able to finish school online and be traveling around the world even though you were sure you could do it.
“I-I can’t think of another reason,” Tears welled in your eyes as you looked up at Shawn, “I want to go with you.”
The smile he wore could’ve lit up the room, “You can, please, just come with me. Finishing school will be so easy for you and we’ll be together.”
“Forever and always?”
Shawn chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Forever and always.”
Maybe it was the marijuana in your systems, but this seemed like the best decision ever.
A comforting midnight haze had temporarily settled between us – stars shot out the trombone we had smoked lavender from; we sat in the car my parents had bought for me after my first had been totaled, in a No Parking Anytime zone, waiting for the signal that we had made guest list.
Moments of silence had permeated the ignorance of our youth, and we waxed introspective – we experienced a deep necessity to relate to one another in the most obscure ways, yet, we shared obvious characteristics: we had seen the sun rise for days at a time, forged the “right” connections, and marked the scene with the unwavering glow of artists – My curiosity remained in the mystery of how the others afforded their city lifestyles, though honesty would have defeated the purpose of these personas, anyway.
We waited in front of a club on La Cienega for seven minutes. My friends, S and J, looked unconcerned.
I repeatedly phoned the man who had invited us – he was an Australian musician who had “made it” by supporting several EDM festivals, and had texted me an invitation to his label-mate’s birthday party hours before.
S had played music at Burning Man with the host of the party, who also happened to be a Billboard Hot 100 favorite – Earlier in the night, S, J, and I had been invited backstage at the host’s DJ set in Downtown, and I approached his Australian friend, who had also been alone, in an attempt to not look so out of place.
A tall, slim woman, in a crimson leather jacket, waltzed out of the club – Taylor? – to bring us in. She smiled as we thanked her, but did not offer conversation in return.
I greeted the Australian, who eagerly fist-pumped to the host’s trembling beat – the others danced feet from the star, who was clutching an iPhone, not vinyl, while posting videos of the rented-out club – he paused to change the song, and the girls shoved one another to observe. The modern DJ, chart-topping extraordinaire, caressed a rainbow of buttons, and in their scarlet delusion, the crowd began to applaud.
It took several drinks to realize that I ended up on the wrong side of city, whereas the contentedness I had felt in Downtown, blending into the anonymity of an audience, dissipated after I left for the after-party. The allure of Los Angeles came from an insatiable appetite to bask in the presence of god-like celebrities; the pretentiousness of the guests around me led them to meet everywhere but my gaze – they encircled the digital musician; a Mississippi-born, middle-aged man, with a cult-like devotion.
And when the star looked up, the boys grinned, and the girls screamed out with desire – in his casual clothing, he glanced at them, with their best faces, and their most provocative moves, to catch his attention for two to three, distracted seconds – that was all they needed, they swore. But he ignored them for the other micro-celebrities that had made his acquaintance prior to the after-party, and I began to question how intimately he knew the other fifty “close friends.”
The club was opaque with sweat, and liquor, and decadence; infinite shots of tequila fell into their mouths and onto the floor, haphazardly mixed with an off-brand orange juice, by the host’s entourage, who had unquestionably invited prospective lays.
You’re drunk. Come home with me. I looked up from my feet as the Australian sat next to me on the couch, holding another Tequila Sunrise.
Maybe another time. I’m fine. He questioned my ability to think – You can’t do that, he declared, and palmed my cheek. I looked away, and politely declined his advances, while watching S and J laugh at a stumbling girl, falling onto the lap of another musician.
You Americans are the worst, he spat. Within moments, I watched him kiss the woman in the crimson jacket, who had been waiting for the host by his laptop, while he thumbed some simple functions on Ableton – or was it iTunes? – The clock did not stop for anyone except for the man behind the laptop; the night would surely become day before the club closed down.
4 am, 5 am, a phone-call from my concerned mother – I silently left my friends, and speedily walked down La Cienega Boulevard in search of my car. A cop stopped me after I had shook some old, traveling Englishmen off of my trail, who had followed me out of the club and begged me to take them back to the Beverly Hills Hotel.
To see a girl like you out here – It’s late. He pulled-over on his motorcycle, though did not bother to turn his lights on.
I’m fine, officer. Just ready to go home.
He smiled at me, watching my silhouette grow as I backed away, pretending to order a taxi.
I don’t give a f– if you’ve had anything to drink. Would you like to stay with me for awhile?
The richness of his statement! Homeless people sauntered on; some slept outside of empty bars, shivering; barefoot girls ran to their luxury vehicles, with empty bottles of liquor littering their backseats, I stood in my short dress and hand-me-down high heels, and he was concerned about me! – No, I’m fine, really. He waved, pulled away, and as he turned the corner, I sprinted to my car.
The openness of Laurel Canyon was a welcome change from the claustrophobia I had began to experience; I passed the Chateau Marmont, realized I was lost, and remembered that Crescent Heights Boulevard would lead me to the 101.
The little-girl fearfulness of the dark had not left me as I drove on; hell, I still slept with the covers over my head at night – yet this fear I felt was not dissimilar to the anxiety on flatland, in my Los Angeles craze, among the people who had decided that they were the new leaders of the city’s golden age.
The men and women still got drunk like adolescents at their first house party, in posh locations; the most popular were the best connected, and the richest – I had observed this, I knew this – they were a bunch of adults behaving like children, though now, they had no one to correct their actions; there was no clear figure to look to for guidance – so they worshipped Los Angeles, and crafted their disparate personas – artists, musicians, producers, film-stars, socialites –
It was inevitable, they all understood, and so did I – the moment they left the city, they would be nothing.
So they’d stay, the sovereigns of the new world, until they slowly faded away.