I haven’t reblogged many posts on BTS in America because honestly, I’ve been trying to collect my thoughts. A few people sent me asks on my thoughts though, so here goes. I had some pretty low expectations going into this media tour. There are some things I was excited for, some things I still think will be amazing - the AMA’s, BTS on Ellen, BTS on James Corden. Then there are the other things. All the radio interviews, news appearances and interactions with people who quite simply, haven’t done their due diligence. This is the cringe-worthy fact about most people, not just Americans (and not just the media) that, if we interact with someone for only a few moments, we don’t take the time to fully understand them. I, too, am frustrated by the lack of thought-provoking questions towards BTS. By the constant ask of what ‘American things’ BTS like and I find myself asking, why? The point, I think, is that all these interviewers/hosts/anchors are only asking questions they think American/Western society wants to hear.
But in doing so, they’re completely underestimating the audience and missing the point of BTS entirely. The beauty of BTS, is that they’re already speaking a message which people understand. BTS is already saying things which connect, and they’re doing it transcendent of language, culture and country! That’s an amazing thing. People everywhere understand BTS’s message of self-love, self-conflict and self-acceptance. People understand this, despite all the barriers - and honestly, this is the message I wish these interviews would pull out.
Genre: angst, some hurt/comfort (but mostly angst. even when there’s comforting there’s underlying angst whoops.)
Word Count: 1640
Warnings: putting self in dangerous situations, swearing, crying… ANGST
Roman can’t understand why Logan cares because he thinks he hates him. Logan doesn’t disagree, but he also doesn’t leave.
Roman blindly grabs a blade from his collection and lets his
room fade into a training arena. Opposite him is a straw dummy, held together
with strings and rags. With a snap of his fingers, music starts blaring, and he
charges at the object.
He swings his sword with no precision and little care,
letting his hurt fuel his rage which in turn fuels his strikes, effectively
destroying his creation in mere moments. He waves a hand and it resets, and he
goes at it again, relishing in the tearing sound the rags make and the clang of
the sword against the metal pole holding up the dummy. The jarring pain of his
arms whenever this happens gives Roman something tangible to focus on, and he
finds himself hitting the pole more. He can’t distinguish whether or not he’s doing
it on purpose, but it doesn’t matter, because the dummy is unrecognisable