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evermoresqueiswriting · 2 months

Text

the one where clarisse learns about her love language

"Late in the night, the city's asleep Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep Change my priorities The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury" - King Of My Heart, Taylor Swift

summary: after getting hurt during one game of capture de flag, clarisse gets taken care of by you and after this, clarisse went from never being at the infirmary to being there almost every day with a new injury. weird for an ares kid to get this easily injured, but you didn't mind

pairing: clarisse la rue x apollo!reader

word count: 6.2k i suddenly lost the ability to write shorter fics bruh

tags: fluff, clarisse fell first and harder

masterlist // ask box

No one at camp had a job at camp per say. Hephaestus kids were the ones forging the weapons campers used, and Demeter kids sometimes cooked dinner. And some Apollo kids – including yourself – were the designated healers at camp. So, it wasn’t your job, per say, to stay at the infirmary all day long, but you were.

You enjoyed the calm and serenity of that place. The sun always shined through the windows, and you could sunbathe all day long, while listening to your favourite songs or painting. Most of the time it was quiet, except when Will followed you there. He was a rather loud kid, he loved to ask questions and learn about everything you did.

“Shouldn’t you be playing with other kids your age instead of trying to work here?”

“Shouldn’t you be socialising with kids your age instead of working for free?” Will replied in the same tone.

“Rude!”

“I learned from the best,” he gave you a pat on the shoulder.

“I regret it. All the time,” you turned away. “If you’re gonna stay here, at least help me clean this place.”

The first time Will tried to help you clean this place, it was a disaster. Before you ran the infirmary, it wasn’t organised, everything was just laying around. Then you came in, and cleaned up the place, and organised it how you liked it. Will didn’t know that, so he just cleaned up like he thought was fine. It wasn’t. And you had lectured him about never – ever – touching anything again without you being there.

“Tomorrow’s Capture the Flag,” Will started. “They put really far from the flag and the fight, again,” he frowned.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It always happens when the Ares cabin is teaming up with us. They’re always leading the fight.”

“Well they are good,” you shrugged. “But you know you can talk to Lee about this, he’s our head counsellor and he could talk to Clarisse.”

He shook his head.

“Clarisse is kinda scary,” Will admitted.

“Did I never tell you to never judge a book by its cover,” you put your hands on your hips, “but in that case you’re right. Clarisse does scare me a little bit too. And I’m kinda glad she decided to put me far away from her this time.”

Will rolled his eyes, clearly still upset.

“Okay, I can see how this isn’t great,” you sighed. “If for the next one, we’re still teaming up with the Ares cabin, I’ll talk to Lee and Clarisse alright?”

He nodded. Hopefully, you weren’t going to team up with the Ares cabin anytime soon. You never talked to Clarisse, but you knew who she was. Everyone knew her. Ares daughter, head counsellor and incredibly scary. She was an amazing fighter, and no one wanted to be at the other end of her spear.

“I’m just saying,” you ranted to Lee at dinner, “Will is a kid and it sucks that you decided to exclude him.”

“Who’s ‘you’,” he inquired. “Clarisse was the brain behind everything. She’s the strategist.”

“And what are you? A plant? You were there when the strategy was being made,” you argued.

“But Will never said anything to me. It’s always been this way.”

“Well he told me, and I’m telling you. Please pass along this information if we ever get teamed up with the Ares cabin again,” you smiled.

“Sure,” Lee nodded. “You’re the boss.”

“‘m not,” you mumbled and kept on eating.

Lee was the Apollo cabin’s head counsellor. But really, you were his co-head counsellor. You have been at camp for a long time now, since the age of ten and you have always been a year-rounder at camp. But when the head counsellor spot freed up, you vouched for Lee. He wanted that position, he deserved it, and you agreed. But he always came for advice and your opinion.

Capture the Flag day finally arrived, and you were getting ready, putting your armour on. You picked your bow and slid it on your shoulder, before leaving your cabin. You joined your team – the red one – and everyone was there already. Clarisse stood tall and proud at the front, planting her spear next to her.

“Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged,” Chiron announced – like every single time. “Killing or maiming is not allowed.”

“Much to my regret,” Dionysus mumbled. “So yeah, let the game begin or whatever.”

Clarisse turned around, waved her hand around and people were running to their assigned position. You were on flag duty. On top of the hill that had a perfect view of your flag. If you saw anyone from the opposite side you'd shoot explosive arrows to blind and confuse them for a second, so your team had time to disarm them before they could reach your flag.

You looked around, and spotted Michael and Lee. Chatting, and looking around. Moving on. Ares' kids were fighting some kids from the Hephaestus cabin. Logic. And then you spotted Clarisse. Walking alone through the forest. Probably to the other side where the blue flag was.

But then you also spotted a group of three Athena kids – blue team – following her closely. Clarisse wasn’t stupid, she probably knew about them following her.

“What are you watching?” someone asked, startling you.

“Will! What are you doing here?”

“There wasn’t anyone around the borders, so I came to help you. So what are you staring at?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, going back to monitor your flag.

Will stared at you, huffed and went to look at what you were looking at.

“y/n?,” Will called for you.

“What?” you didn’t look at him.

“y/n!”

“What?” you gave him a quick glance.

“Something’s wrong.”

That caught your attention. You looked back at where Clarisse was. She seemed fine. The three Athena kids were no longer there though.

“What?”

“Don’t you see the trap?”

“What trap?” you frowned, looking more closely at where she stood.

It was a particularly sunny day. If your dad wasn’t Apollo, you’d be blinded by the sun rays. But your dad was Apollo, so you were doing great. And there it was. The trap. It was so bright, it was hard to spot it. And the Athena kids knew that. So when Clarisse walked over it, it was too late and something came flying toward her.

“What the hell?” you cursed before running down the hill. “Stay here,” you warned Will.

Before you left, you gave a quick glance back, and Clarisse was down, surely unconscious.

“Fuck.”

You sprinted towards where she was when you heard the emergency horn. The emergency horn that Chiron played at the start of every summer so campers would know what that sound meant. A warning for campers that the game stopped. When you reached Clarisse, Chiron and Mr D were already there. As well as most campers.

“What happened?” campers talked among themselves.

“Move!” you pushed the kids blocking you from reaching Clarisse.

Clarisse was bleeding from her forehead, and a metal stick was stuck in her left shoulder. It was overwhelming, people squeezing in to see what was going on, talking to each other. Even Chiron and Mr D couldn’t keep them in place. You kneeled beside Clarisse, trying to shield her from the campers, when you spotted one of the Athena kids that was following her earlier.

You stood swiftly, without leaving Clarisse unattended and grabbed his armour with both hands to bring him closer.

“You take another step toward Clarisse again and I’ll make sure you won’t ever, ever, see another healthy day again. I’ll make sure you and your brothers will wake everyday in pain wishing you were dead instead,” you cursed him.

You spoke in a low voice, but everyone heard. Just like that, everyone took a step back.

“y/n,” Chiron put his hand on your shoulder. “You’re needed in the infirmary, I’ll bring Clarisse there.”

You let him go, took your armour off and threw it on the ground before walking to the infirmary with your brothers close behind you. Michael had great healing skills too, so you’d need him. Will was learning so he stayed with you. Lee, as your head counsellor, also had to be here somehow.

“Can you really do that?” Will asked timidly. “Make them sick forever.”

“Apollo kids can inherit dad’s plague powers,” Lee stated. “But it’s rare, and never that powerful.”

Will stared at you, but you only stared at the door. Waiting for Chiron to arrive.

“Why are you so worried about Clarisse of all people,” Michael huffed.

Lee slapped his arm.

“What!” Michael rubbed his arm.

“Great to know that’s what you’d think if we were ever on the battlefield,” you noted, “choosing who to help and who can die.”

“That’s not what I said!” he shouted.

“Then why shouldn’t I be worried about an injured camper, who just happened to be Clarisse?” you shouted back.

Someone cleared their throat. You both stopped bickering. Chiron. He put Clarisse on the bed next to the window and stepped back so you and Michael could start working. You didn’t need to talk to know what to do. You trained together, as a team, for years, so everything was done flawlessly and quickly.

“She should be fine,” you announced, “I’ll stay and feed her ambrosia for the next few days and she should wake.”

“Great,” Chiron nodded, relieved. “Great work you two, as usual.”

They all left, except for Will and you both sat on the couch. You stared at Clarisse, with her head wrapped in a bandage, her shoulder too.

“She doesn’t look so scary now huh,” you said.

“No,” Will agreed. “So it really was the Athena cabin?”

“I don’t know, I mean I saw them. I don’t think Annabeth would’ve agreed to such a plan. As in a plan that’d almost kill their opponent in Capture the Flag. For a real quest, why not. But Capture the Flag?”

“What’s going to happen to those who pulled this stunt?”

“Well,” you sighed, “knowing Chiron, he’d probably just revoke their dessert privileges for two weeks instead of one. But I’m sure once she wakes up, she’ll know what to do.”

“Kill them?” Will ask, with a horrified expression.

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

Will left first, leaving you alone with Clarisse. You told him you’d join him later when dinner would come. You went to see Clarisse. The bandages were already soaked, so you carefully removed them. You carefully cleaned her wounds again before bandaging them again. You fed her a tiny amount of ambrosia before joining the rest of your siblings for dinner.

Before the feast could begin, Chiron gave a speech about how Capture the Flag wasn’t the place to settle personal accounts and that maiming and killing was forbidden. And how this time it went too far.

“I’ve talked to the head counsellor in question, and it will be taken seriously. There will be consequences, and I don’t ever want to see this happening ever again.”

Campers nodded along, and went back to their table. You devoured your food in no time, not forgetting to leave some for the offering. Then you rushed to shower and clean your face before running to the infirmary where you’d spend the next few nights.

“I really hope you’ll wake soon,” you told unconscious Clarisse. “I’m not used to having someone else in here.”

You walked around, putting things back where they’re supposed to, and walked back to where Clarisse was. Then you stood again, and sat.

“I’m crazy. A few hours with someone who doesn’t talk to me and I’m going insane,” you sighed. “Well, while we’re here, I have a few things to say, to get off my chest really,” you started your rant. “You know Will, my little brother. Well, Will is capable of holding his own, he can fight… maybe not your siblings, cause you’re all very, very, violent. But you don’t have to put him this far away each time you know, he notices.

“I’m saying,” you rested your back against the bed, “it could be different, you could come up with a different kind of strategy. It works for sure, you win a lot, but we could win in a different way also.

“You know I saw you,” you continued after a moment. “Being followed by these idiots. I thought you knew, and–,” you paused. “Ugh I should’ve tried to protect you. Warn you. It was my job. Why didn’t I think of that earlier? And it was hot as hell, you could’ve felt a little dizzy and I should’ve–”

“Shut up,” Clarisse wheezed.

You whipped around, standing up before backing away.

“Ar– Clarisse?” you whispered. “Are you feeling alright?” you walked to her.

Her eyes were still closed, she frowned and shook her head slightly.

“Waw, Ares kids are tougher than I thought,” you mumbled to yourself.

You went to grab some water and a straw, and sat next to Clarisse, on the bed.

“You should drink a bit.”

She opened her eyes, and stared at you, with a blank expression. You blinked, and smiled, holding up the straw to her mouth. You frowned when she refused to drink.

“Drinking water is good for you,” you added. “Please stop staring at me like you want to murder me.”

She rolled her eyes and drank everything before closing her eyes again, and turning her head on the other side.

“Well, I’ll be sleeping on this bed,” you pointed to the bed next to hers, “if you need anything, shout.”

Clarisse kept quiet, so you went to bed and fell asleep very quickly. Clarisse, on the other hand, could not fall asleep. She turned head around and looked at you. You clearly slept well, with your mouth slightly opened. After a few minutes of staring outside the window, her stomach growled. She needed to eat.

There had to be food in here – she looked around and spotted a basket full of fruits and cake. That’ll do. She gathered all her strength and tried to push herself up using her left arm and yelped in pain. That woke you up.

“What’s wrong?” you worried.

“Nothing,” Clarisse panted, biting her lips.

You rushed to her and saw her shoulder was bleeding again.

“What happened?” you worried, turning the lights on.

You grabbed clean bandages, and a clean towel with some alcohol and rushed back to her. Clarisse somehow managed to sit up, her right arm holding onto where her left shoulder was stabbed.

“Don’t cover it,” you pushed her hand away.

You started to remove the blood soaked bandages when she grabbed your hand to stop you. You gave her a questioning look. Clarisse quickly let go of your hand and looked away, breathing slowly. You opened your mouth, but then closed it and resumed your work.

“What were you trying to do anyway?” you asked when the wound was clean.

“I was hungry.”

“I–, I mean I did say to shout if you needed me but I was not thinking a pained scream with you bleeding again. Just a ‘hey y/n bring me food’ would’ve suffice. I would’ve been up. And that’s done. Good as new.”

Clarisse was still looking away from you which hid her head wound. When she turned her head toward you, you raised your hand to touch her face, but she flinched away hard at your sudden movement. You froze, too afraid to move again. No one talked or dared to breathe – the silence became heavy. Clarisse opened her eyes, and stared at you. She took your hand in hers and put it down.

“I–,” you breathed, “I was just going to check your head wound,” you murmured.

“Go ahead then,” she sat straighter.

You raised your hands slower this time, and tilted her head. You tore off her bandage and put it back in place. Clarisse could hear her heartbeat pacing up. Her mind and body stopped functioning. What was happening? She kept thinking about how your hands felt so warm in the night breeze, and how pretty you looked so close. Then when you dropped your hands, she came back to reality.

“Your face is still good. Like always,” and gave her a small smile.

“I’ll go eat,” she blurted out before leaving bed.

“Oh– okay. I can go to the kitchen and bring other things if you want.”

“No it’s fine,” she brushed you off, focused on the fruits in front of her.

Which was hard with you so close behind her. You watched Clarisse eat the strawberries and blueberries and grapes, and then you grabbed an orange and started to peel it. Once you were done you handed it to her. She grabbed it slowly and whispered a low thank you before eating it. Clarisse also ate half of the cake Katie brought to you earlier.

“Demeter kids, am I right,” you ate with her, “I don't know what they put in their cakes but I could eat them everyday. You should rest now,” you put your hand on her right arm and squeezed it. “You can barely stand.”

This time when Clarisse closed her eyes, she fell asleep instantly. And so did you. The next morning, you were the first one up. As soon as the sun rose, you were ready to start your day. You went to your cabin and washed up before grabbing a new toothbrush for Clarisse. You changed your clothes, and then went to the Ares cabin. You opened the door, and no one was up yet. You spotted the only empty bunk bed – Clarisse had one for herself – and saw her drawer next to it. You grabbed a new pair of pants, and a new camp-half blood tee and left in a hurry. Clarisse was up by the time you came back.

“I brought some of your clothes so you could change,” you gave her the clothes and the toothbrush. “I did sneak into your cabin, but I didn’t look through your stuff, don't worry about that,” you smiled. “I mean, except for your clothes – sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“Well, I’ll let you change and I’ll be… not here for sure. I’ll go get breakfast!”

Clarisse watched you walk away, humming to some songs and when you were out of her sight, she got out of bed to change and clean herself. All she could think about was what happened yesterday. What even happened yesterday?

Before yesterday, you never spoke. She knew your name and vaguely knew what you looked like, but that was it. Since she arrived at camp, she didn’t once step into the infirmary – she didn’t need to. But now, for some reason, all she could think about was you. And how warm and soft your hands felt, how nice it felt to have you touch her face like that.

By the time you came back, Clarisse went back to bed and laid down. You gave her what you brought and you ate together, picking off the same plate.

“How are you feeling this morning? Does it still hurt?” you pointed at her shoulder.

“I’m—,” she stopped. “It still hurts,” which was true. “A lot,” that wasn’t..

“Really?” you worried. “I thought you’d be doing fine, because you woke so early. I thought your body was healing faster than most campers. Well,” you picked a strawberry with your fork, “you’ll have to stay here longer then.”

“Can’t go against the doctor’s orders,” she shrugged.

“True,” you smiled. “You finish this,” you pushed the plate toward her, “I’ll go get some supplies to change this,” you gently patted her shoulder.

You rolled your chair away, and grabbed what you needed and rolled back to Clarisse. You hopped onto her bed, and started your routine. The wounds were healing perfectly fine, and very quickly, so it was odd that Clarisse was still in extreme pain.

“I don’t think these wounds will scar,” you said.

“A shame, they’d make me look tougher.”

“Look?” you huffed. “You don’t need those to look tougher, you already do. Scary even,” you joke, but not really. “I mean I’m not scared– anymore… but yeah, some people may say– think you do. Anyway, scar or not, you’ll always look and be the toughest.”

“Anymore?” she grinned. “Were you before?”

“I mean,” you dragged that last vowel, “I don’t think scared is the right word. More like– intimidated. I never went to these meetings for Capture the Flag because I knew if you disagreed or worse – dismissed my ideas – I would’ve cried.”

“I never would’ve done that,” she chuckled, “I don’t think you’re capable of having bad ideas. Lee’s constantly praising you and giving us your ideas that I always take into account.”

“Really?” you couldn’t stop your smile.

She shrugged, and nodded. You playfully slapped her on the shoulder – the left one – and she yelped in pain.

“What the hell!”

‘Sorry!” you backed away, “it was a reflex.”

Clarisse ended up staying in the infirmary with you for three whole days, but she couldn’t fake it anymore when the wound completely healed and it was as if nothing had happened. The day she left, you cleaned up the room and sat alone on the couch, just like before.

It was weird. Usually, you enjoyed the silence and solitude of the room, but now it was as if time had stopped. Every time you looked at the clock, it’d only been two minutes. And so were the next few days. Then on Friday, as usual, Lee came in to visit. You worked in silence – which was the first odd thing Lee noticed – then he saw how you always stared at the empty bed Clarisse used to stay in.

“You’re being weird,” he said.

“I’m not!”

“You’re never this quiet when I visit.”

“The past few days were a bit dry,” you explained casually.

“You can say you miss Clarisse, it’s fine,” he sat next to you on the couch.

“I–,” you sighed. “It’s just… I was getting used to having someone with me.”

“Well maybe you should spend less time here and more time outside with, mmh I don’t know, Clarisse maybe.”

“What if she doesn’t see me as a friend though? What if I’m imagining things? She hasn’t visited me once.”

“Then you come back here, and the end.”

“I hate you,” you groaned. “You’re no help to me at all!”

When the door suddenly flew open which startled both of you. You could recognise these hair anywhere.

“Clarisse?” you called her name.

She turned to face you, and a gasp came out of your mouth before rushing to her.

“What happened to your face?” you held her arms.

Clarisse had a nasty cut going from her eyebrow to her hairline. She stared at you without saying anything before turning her gaze to Lee, and he spurted out some excuses and then left. But before he closed the door, he gave you a knowing look saying ‘see, she’s here’.

“What happened?” you frowned.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. She cleared her throat. “These few days of rest weren’t a good idea I think.”

“That’s–,” you paused, “not accurate.”

But before she could reply, you grabbed her arm and dragged her to the other side of the room, and let her sit on the chair. You grabbed clean cotton and some alcohol and started to clean her wound. You stood closely to her, between her legs with her hands holding onto your thighs to stay steady.

“How did this happen anyway?” you asked.

“I was practising with my brothers.”

You frowned, and tried to step away but Clarisse was holding on tight to your thighs.

“You got beat up by your brothers?” you repeated with a raised eyebrow. “I have a hard time believing this. You’re just better than them,” you said casually before patching up her wound.

“Why do you know so much about my brothers’ skills?”

“I don’t! I know about yours. And from what I saw in the past, it’s always you leading the fight so I assumed that’s because you’re the best among them.”

“Mh,” she hummed, “well I guess you haven’t been doing your job very well if I’m not back to my old self yet,” she grinned.

“Or,” you grinned back, “maybe it’s your skills. I think they need a little sharpening. Maybe I could spare some time and teach you if you need.”

She suppressed a smile.

“Or, maybe you just want to spend time with me.”

You were close to each other, and Clarisse was still holding onto you. You crossed your arms, and stared at her. She was looking up at you, and you were looking down, which was a rare occurrence since she was much taller than you.

“I’m doing a favour to you at best. But if you don’t want to,” you sighed, “it’s–.”

“I do,” she affirmed.

That was the start of your friendship. Turns out Clarisse was really glad to hang out with someone that wasn’t her sibling. She was always the one seaking you out. At lunch, at dinner, during classes. All the time. Even when you were working, because somehow she always, always, ended up getting hurt.

One of the first times she came in after your friendship hangouts was for a sprained ankle. She came in limping, and threw herself on her – not really – bed, groaning.

“What happened?” you rushed to her side, worried. “You’re lucky I just came back in here!”

Clarisse didn’t want to admit this, but that was exactly why she was here. She was on her way to her cabin when she spotted you walking around with your sisters and she was so focused on you that she tripped and fell.

“I just fell,” she explained.

“You just fell,” you repeated slowly. “Right. Well lucky you because this,” you patted her leg, “will heal in no time with this,” you brought her some ambrosia.

“That’s it?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you smiled.

“Oh.”

Then the next time she came, like the next few ones, were always injuries that required you to clean up the wound, and then patch her up. It went from tiny cuts to ‘I have a bruise here’ then showing you her perfectly unbruised skin to serious injuries that she got during Capture the Flag.

“You know at this rate I feel like you’re doing this on purpose,” you joked when she came in for the umpteenth time. “What is it this time?”

She shrugged and sat on her designated bed, and laid down. You joined her and sat next to where her legs rested. She held up her hand and you took it before she dragged you to lay beside her. The beds in the infirmary weren’t big enough for two so you were half laying on Clarisse with her arm resting behind your head.

“Did you paint that?” she asked.

The ceiling was painted by the Apollo cabin, all together you decided on a design and painted it over weeks worth of work.

“Here,” you pointed at the top of the painting. “That was painted by me.”

“Two planets?”

“The moon and Saturn,” you smiled.

“Linked by a thread?”

“Yea, the red string of fate. It’s from Chinese mythology. The old lunar matchmaker god, who is in charge of marriages, would tie together two people with this red string of fate and they are destined to be together, to be lovers regardless of time, place or circumstances. And no matter what, that thread will never break. It can stretch or get tangled up, but it never breaks.”

“And what about the moon and Saturn then?” she frowned, confused.

“Because,” you paused. “Your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to Saturn,” you started to sing, “Passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long.”

You turned your head to look at her only to see confusion on her face.

“Taylor Swift, seven,” you explained. “It’s great, we’ll have to listen to it someday.”

“Sure.”

“Really?” you looked at her excitedly.

“Yeah, you seem to like her so sure, I’ll listen with you,” she shrugged.

“Oh and that’s Will’s painting,” you showed her another corner. “That’s my dad and his lover, Hyacinthus. That’s where the name of the flower came from. Isn’t that kind of sweet how he named a flower after him.”

“I mean didn’t Apollo kill – by accident – Hyacinthus?” she grimaced.

“Or Zephyrus was so jealous of my dad that he killed his lover, because he couldn’t get no man. My dad is an excellent archer. His aim never failed him. I don’t see how it’s possible for him to kill his lover. But gods being petty over these kinds of things, that I can believe.”

Clarisse hummed in agreement.

“But enough about my father’s love life,” you shrugged, turning around to face Clarisse, “what about your dad? Still desperately trying to woo someone else’’s wife?”

“I don’t want to talk about my dad,” she yawned, then closed her eyes.

“Okay.”

Just as you were about to continue talking, you noticed that Clarisse had fallen asleep. It was still early in the afternoon so it was still bright outside. You looked around and started to get up so you could pull the curtains but Clarisse grabbed your arm to pull you closer to her, locking you in her arms.

“Don’t go,” she mumbled.

“Okay,” you whispered and stayed still.

The thing was, Clarisse was like a human radiator. Sleeping in her arms felt exactly like sleeping under tons of heavy blankets. This much warmth only resulted in falling asleep in Clarisse’s arms. When you woke, you were alone in bed.

“Slacking off during work hours,” Lee said standing next to you.

“Fuck!” you jumped off bed. “Why were you staring at me sleeping!” you screamed.

“You weren’t there and it’s almost time for dinner. I’m being a nice brother!” he shouted back.

“Oh. Well, thanks!” you yelled, and gave him a smile.

You both left to join your siblings at the dining pavilion, and once you sat at your usual spot, you scanned the room in search of Clarisse. She was at her table like usual, and eating in silence, head hanging low. Your tactic of staring at her wasn’t working even though you knew she knew that you were staring at her.

“What are you doing?” Lee kicked you with his elbow. “Did something happen with Clarisse?” he whispered.

You shook your head.

“I mean,” you leaned in whispering, “we did sleep together.”

Lee’s eyes widened, mouth wide open and he backed away in shock.

“You– you slept together? In the infirmary?”

“Not slept together,” you rolled your eyes, “she fell asleep and did I.”

“Ah.”

“Anyways, she left without saying anything,” you explained. “And now, I feel like she’s avoiding me.”

“It’s only been a few hours.”

“She’s avoiding me, I’ve been staring at her for at least fifteen minutes and nothing. Not a glance from her.”

“Okay creep. But once again, just talk to her. It would solve all your problems here.”

“She’s the one who doesn’t talk. I talk. A lot!”

“Trust me, I know. I just don’t think Ares kids are the best at talking, you know.”

“Fine.”

But as it turned out, Clarisse mastered the art of avoiding people – you – when she wanted to. Whenever you tried to talk to her, she would disappear. After a few days of trying, you gave up and told everything to Lee.

“If she doesn’t want anything to do with me, then fine by me,” you frowned, holding back your tears.

“I’m sure you’re overthinking this,” he tried to comfort you.

“Oh please,” you huffed. “You saw what happened this morning when I tried to talk to her. I’ll get over it,” you whispered. “I’ll get over her.”

Lee considered himself your best friend, and favourite brother. You never said these things, but he considered you his best friend and favourite sister. And as your best friend he had to do something, he had to talk to Clarisse and give her a piece of his mind. So that night, he was a man on a mission. He walked to the Ares cabin, and waited for Clarisse to either go or or go out.

“Clarisse!” he called her name when she finally left her cabin.

“What do you want, Fletcher?” Clarisse sighed, clearly annoyed.

“Oh, so you do speak. And here I thought you lost that ability,” he snickered.

“I will punch you in the face.”

Lee rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“I’m not scared, unlike you.”

“What–.”

“You’re scared to talk to y/n for whatever reason, and I need you to pluck up the courage to talk to her because you’re making her miserable by avoiding her.”

“I–,” she froze.

Was she making you miserable?

“You’re just doing your thing and going to her when you need, when you want but have you ever thought about what she was thinking? No. You would if you’d just listened to her, but no,” he made a big gesture, “avoiding her like the plague.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she mumbled, looking away.

“I’m telling you that you made a mistake, and if you continue down this path you’re going to lose her for good. I’m not saying this for you, because I couldn’t care less about you, but y/n is my sister and I want her to be happy and for some reason you are making her happy,” he rolled his eyes, “so do whatever you want with this information.”

Clarisse stood there, not saying anything, watching Lee walking away. But then he stopped and turned around to walk toward her again.

“Before I forget,” Lee added before throwing his strongest punch in her face. “For making my sister cry.”

And he ran away, before Clarisse could punch him back. But Clarisse was too busy thinking about you to think about Lee and what he just did. If it weren’t for that afternoon in the infirmary, she probably would’ve ran to you so you could take care of her, but now, she couldn’t. So she went to sleep, wishing that tomorrow it’ll be better.

You were one of the first campers to arrive for breakfast. You ate slowly, and by the time the dining pavilion was filled with campers, you were done. But you stayed and listened to your siblings talk. Just as you were about to leave, Clarisse came in and you dropped your fork in shock. She had a black eye and her cheek was bruised, with her nose in a weird shape. She looked at you, as you stood urgently. But then you froze – should you go to her? You sat back down, still staring at Clarisse.

“What happened to her?” Will whispered to you.

“I don’t know,” you whispered back.

“You don’t? I thought you were friends.”

“Yea, me too,” you sighed.

Clarisse was walking to her table, dragging her feet along and when she walked past the Apollo table, you stood and grabbed hand, forcing her to face you. When you noticed several heads staring at you, you dragged Clarisse away and brought her to the archery field.

“What happened to your face?” you held her face in your hands.

“Nothing,” she leaned into your touch.

“Clarisse,” you whispered. “Just talk to me please.”

“Lee came to have a little chat with me yesterday.”

“He did this?” you gasped.

“Yeah.”

You held your hand to your mouth, in shock and to hide a tiny part of you that wanted to laugh.

“And?” you asked.

“He said I was making you miserable.”

“That’s not true!” you insisted.

“I ignored you. And I shouldn't have. I don’t–” she hesitated, “want to lose you,” she mumbled.

“Then just talk to me, we’re friends too.”

“I– I don’t know,” she stepped back and took a deep breath. “I was confused! I– I don’t know I like it when you take care of me,” she admitted in a low voice. “I’m being weird and–.”

“You’re not,” you held her arms. “It’s not weird to love physical touch. I mean, I just assumed that it was your love language you know.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“I think what you like is when I hold you or when I touch you because you love physical touch,” you began, “and you were doing everything to visit me, pretending to be a bad fighter and getting hurt on purpose.”

“No that’s no–,” she shook her head.

“It’s fine! My love language is quality time, and there’s nothing wrong—.”

“No it’s different–.”

“It’s not! It’s fi—.”

“It’s because I like you,” she blurted out.

Oh. You couldn’t help but smile at her confession.

“It’s not funny!” she huffed, crossing her arms.

“I’m not laughing! I’m… happy about this outcome,” you rested your head against her arms and looked up. “Because I like you too Clarisse.”

“Really?” she stared at you.

You nodded.

“I’m sorry about ignoring you,” she added.

“Mmh,” you smiled, “I accept your apology. But you’ll have to make it up to me.”

“Anything you want.”

“A kiss?”

Clarisse uncrossed her arms and held your face instead and leaned in to kiss you eagerly. And you happily gave in, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“Mmh, keep doing that and I’ll forgive you, no doubt.”

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue fanfic #clarisse x you #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue pjo #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse la rue #pjo x reader #clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue x fem!reader

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gotham-ruaidh · 5 months

Text

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 14B: Where Do We Go Now?

Soundtrack: “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” Guns N’ Roses, 1987 [click here to listen]

Now and then when I see her face She takes me away to that special place And if I stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry

- Guns N’ Roses, “Sweet Child O’ Mine” (1987)

Tucson || July 1988

It didn’t matter what Colum or the label or anyone else said – all recording studios looked the same on the inside.

Sure, there were always small differences. The really comfortable couches at Sound City in Los Angeles. Electric Lady in Manhattan still had the really cool paint scheme that Jimi Hendrix himself had designed. Muscle Shoals in Alabama oozed coolness.

But this studio, whose name he couldn’t and didn’t care to remember, nestled down a back street in Tuscon was…tired.

Almost as tired as Jamie.

The “quick three week tour” had stretched to eight weeks, with no end in sight. Theater shows had been upgraded to arenas. Playing to thousands and thousands of ecstatic fans. Pouring their hearts out night after night after night, and squeezing in radio promos and sound checks and business meetings during the day.

Fucking exhilarating.

Everybody wanted a piece of Print – their music, their story. Jamie still hadn’t granted too many interviews this tour, but the press ate up every word he said about sobriety and music and forgiveness. Insatiable for details about the woman he had met in rehab, and written all the new songs about, and refused to name publicly.

Print was making more money than they knew what to do with. The label had sprung for a private plane, and nobody in the band missed the rickety and smelly tour bus (except Claire, because it was still all so new to her, which Jamie added to the list of thousands of reasons why he loved her). Their hotel rooms were bigger. Catering in the dressing rooms was much nicer.

Fucking exhausting.

So many people wanted a piece of Jamie every day. Ian and Angus, to run through the new material that just kept pouring out of them. Colum, to talk ticket sales and adding second and third nights in each city. The suits from the label, who kept finding them in Dallas and Kansas City and Detroit, slapping Jamie’s back and pushing terrible ideas for duets with pop stars or contributing to a movie soundtrack or pleading to do the acoustic set in a special for MTV.

And on top of that, some dirtbag reporter from the National Enquirer had figured out who Claire was, somehow got a hold of her personnel file from the hospital, and tracked down her shitty ex-husband for an exclusive interview. Splashed her life all over the tabloids, complete with very grainy photographs of the she and Jamie together, holding hands, on a rare day off in Nashville when he took her to a few honky-tonks. The one saving grace was that thankfully, nobody at The Ridge had said a word about anything about her time there, or the time they shared together.

Claire took it all in stride. She always understood. Holding him in the bathtub of their suite in Denver as he shook from another panic attack. Smiling over a three AM hamburger at a diner in Topeka. Whimpering as he came off stage in Atlanta, sweaty and keyed up from singing about her, hoisting her in his arms for a long kiss against the lighting equipment at side stage, heart stuttering to see his eye makeup smudged against her cheeks.

The man he was on the last tour – unhappy, unfulfilled, so deep in an addition he didn’t care to acknowledge – would not recognize the man he’d become on this tour.

“In ’86, we played seventy eight dates. We had a number one record. I bought my house, and my motorcycle, and my car.” Quietly he sipped coffee in their suite in Seattle, watching the city wake up, running his thumb over Claire’s shoulder as she settled against him in front of the window.

“You had everything you had always dreamed of.”

He snorted. “I was a mess. All I could think about during every show was how to find a girl or a bottle or a baggie as quickly as possible. And the crew would always do that for me.”

The crew respected his – and Claire’s – request for no drugs or alcohol backstage this tour. What the techs and roadies and production crew did on their own time, in their own hotel rooms, with whoever they wanted to – Jamie didn’t care. But for everyone to help with, to respect, his sobriety was a gift. And he never stopped saying thank you.

“If only those reporters could see you now – Jamie Fraser swaggering off stage for an Evian.”

He smiled. “And to kiss this beautiful doctor who for some reason keeps following him around. Because he loves her, more than any man has ever loved any woman.”

He wanted to provide for her. To shelter and protect her. To never leave her side ever again.

She didn’t need him to do any of that, of course. They’d talked about it many times. But she wanted him to do that. And the fact that she chose him, kept choosing him…that was why they kept going. Kept each other sober. Kept holding each other up.

They’d agreed that this time on tour was for her to understand this part of him – and to help both of them decide how and where they would live once the tour was done.

Which is why the radio silence from Boston, four weeks after mailing the letter from Philadelphia asking, politely, just what the hell was going on…was so fucking crushing.

The stress of that – and the grind of touring – did make it just a bit more difficult every day.

Thankfully Colum had scheduled a week-long break at the end of the month. Angus was already planning a trip to Aruba with the two groupies, who truth be told had grown on the rest of the band. Ian was planning to spend the week with his wife, Jamie’s sister Jenny, and their kids.

And Jamie and Claire – well, they’d be getting married.

Only a few people knew, with good reason. Ian and Jenny, of course. Alec and Faith, in New York. Colum. Dougal MacKenzie and his wife Gillian, who had helped both Jamie and Claire so much at The Ridge. Uncle Lamb, who would officiate. And Claire’s friends Joe and Gail Abernathy, who had quite literally saved her life by getting her to The Ridge in the first place.

The service would be simple. Exactly what they wanted – what they needed.

And after that…well. They would truly be husband and wife.

But there was a lot to do – a lot to take care of – between now and then. Not the least of which was, wrapping up this recording session.

The time laying down acoustic tracks in Philadelphia last month was very well spent. They weren't so rusty. But the guys were eager to hear the songs in electric form. And since they were in Tucson, and Colum knew Bobby Higgins – who not only owned this studio, but who had also produced that really killer Ratt album in ’84…

“OK, Jamie.”

Jamie took a deep breath, and looked up through the glass at Bobby, hunched over the console in the control room.

“Ready for take two?”

Jamie looked left, to Angus – and right, to Ian.

“Yup.”

“OK – this is In My Veins, take two.”

Jamie grit his teeth.

Caught Claire’s eye in the control room.

She smiled.

He relaxed.

Angus counted in on his drumsticks, and then started the heavy beat like they’d discussed.

Four bars – and Jamie’s guitar and Ian’s bass joined in.

“That was really, really great, Jamie.”

Claire handed him a new bottle of water, cap already twisted off. He drank it in four deep gulps.

“I know you’re not shitting me. So thank you.”

Quickly she looked over her shoulder – Angus’ cheeks were being loudly kissed by the groupies, and Ian played around with his bass, and Colum and Bobby were deep in conversation in the control room.

“Where are you?”

She had pulled him away before, when the panic attacks were coming, and he knew she’d do it again right now if needed.

He wiped his mouth with the back of a sweaty hand. “About an eight out of ten.”

“Do you need a break?”

He met her eyes. “I need a meeting. Been thinking about my old friend Jack Daniels all day.”

“Did you see something?”

He sighed. “I’ve only played electric a handful of times since I got back from The Ridge.” He looked down at the gorgeous Stratocaster strapped across his chest, fist flexing. “I got this guitar because the black tone and white trim matched the label on the bottle. Stupid, I know. But it’s all I could think about today.”

“Not stupid. We’ll deal with it. You should call Alec. And I can find you a meeting.”

He leaned in, and kissed her forehead. “I love you. I’ll call him. And I need to sell this guitar.”

She nodded. “We’ll find a charity.”

He kissed her again. “I love you.”

She kissed him quickly, and returned to the control room.

Grateful that Jamie had turned away to talk to the guys, when Colum tapped her on the shoulder, and slid over an envelope postmarked Boston.

“Mail call. Do I want to know?”

She shook her head, folded the letter, and slid it into the back pocket of her jeans. “Is there a Yellow Pages I can borrow?”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #little bit better than i used to be

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eyelessfaces · 5 months

Note

heyyyy!! might seem random and I don’t know if you listen to Lana Del Rey at all so feel free to ignore me, but if you do, what are some of her songs that you associate with Oscar’s characters (like Poe, Llewyn, Miguel, Rydal, the Moon boys... whatever, I’m not picky). Love your work btw!

dear anon, you are in luck, you have no idea how much.

I don't listen to lana that much, I do listen to a few songs and appreciate her work but my dear best friend @eatingyouryoung happens to have the oscar + lana brainrot cocktail

when I asked her for help to answer this ask, she happened to have already thought about this and sent me a 5 pages long document she had written about the subject, so there you go:

Llewyn:

In My Feelings

Brooklyn Baby

« Could it be that I fell for another loser

I'm crying while I'm cummin'

Making love while I'm making good money

Sobbin' in my cup of coffee

'Cause I fell for another loser

Get that cigarette smoke out of my face

You've been wasting my time

While you're taking what's mine, with the things that you're doing

Talk that talk, well now they all know your name

And there's no coming back from the place that you came

Baby don't do it

'Cause you got me in my feelings (catch you, it's so much right now)

Talking in my sleep again (you can whistle if you want) »

Rydal:

« Well, my boyfriend's in a band

He plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed

I've got feathers in my hair

I get down to Beat poetry

And my jazz collection's rare

I can play most anything

I'm a Brooklyn baby »

« They say I'm too young to love you

They say I'm too dumb to see

They judge me like a picture book

By the colors, like they forgot to read

I think we're like fire and water

I think we're like the wind and sea

You're burnin' up, I'm coolin' down

You're up, I'm down

You're blind, I see »

California

Lucky Ones

« I shouldn't have done it, but I read it in your letter

You said to a friend that you wish you were doing better

I wanted to call you, but I didn't say a thing

Oh, I'll pick you up

If you come back to America, just hit me up »

« You don't ever have to be stronger than you really are

When you're lying in my arms, and, honey

You don't ever have to act cooler than you think you should

You're brighter than the brightest stars

You're scared to win, scared to lose

I've heard the war was over if you really choose

The one in and around you

You hate the heat, you got the blues

Changing like the weather, oh, that's so like you »

Santiago:

« Boy, get into my car, got a bad desire

You know that we'll never leave if we don't get out now, now, now

You're a careless con and you're a crazy liar, but, baby

Nobody can compare to the way you get down, down, down

I tried so hard to act nice like a lady

You taught me that it was good to be crazy

Every now and then, the stars align

Boy and girl meet by the great design

Could it be that you and me are the lucky ones?

Everybody told me love was blind

Then I saw your face and you blew my mind

Finally, you and me are the lucky ones this time »

On Our Way

Poe:

« Why do I think too much?

You tell me not to worry

Because you're the boss

And you, you got a real good plan

My trouble's all over now

Because you're my man

You don't know what you've done to me

You're heavier than heavenly

Life on the run has set me free, me free now

We're on our way »

Love Song

Miguel:

« Dream a dream, here's a scene

Touch me anywhere 'cause I'm your baby

Grab my waist, don't waste any part

I believe that you see me for who I am

So spill my clothes on the floor of your new car

Is it safe, is it safe to just be who we are? »

Black Beauty

Marc:

« I paint my nails black

I dye my hair a darker shade of brown

'Cause you like your women Spanish, dark, strong and proud

I paint the sky black

You said if you could have your way

You'd make it nighttime all today

So it'd suit the mood with your soul

Oh, what can I do?

Nothing, my sparrow blue

Oh, what can I do?

Life is beautiful, but you don't have a clue

Sun and ocean blue

Their magnificence, it don't make sense to you »

Say Yes to Heaven

Jake:

« If you dance, I'll dance

And if you don't, I'll dance anyway

Give peace a chance

Let the fear you have fall away

I've got my eye on you »

Honeymoon

Steven:

« There are violets in your eyes

There are guns that blaze around you

There are roses in between my thighs

And a fire that surrounds you

It's no wonder every man in town

Had neither fought nor found you

Everything you do is elusive

To even your honey dew »

Prom Song (Gone Wrong)

Nathan:

« Boy, it's late, walk me home, put your hand in mine

At the gate, stop and say, "be my valentine"

You are, by far, the brightest star

I've ever seen, and I never dreamed

I'd be so happy that I could die

You used to say that I was beautiful like Cleopatra

But you the king too, so I would say, "back at ya"

I flip my hair and make you stare and put my makeup on

And make up stories 'bout my life and put on very cherry bomb

And even then, I knew that we were something serious

That you would dominate my thoughts like radio to Sirius »

Pretty When You Cry

Blue:

« All those special times I spent with you, my love

They don't mean shit compared to all your drugs

But I don't really mind, I've got much more than that

Like my memories, I don't need that

I'll wait for you, babe, you don't come through, babe

You never do, babe, that's just what you do

Because I'm pretty when I cry »

Dealer

Jonathan:

« I check it, I wreck it, I turn it around

I gave you all my money, gave you all my money

Gave you all my money, gave you all my money

I don't wanna live

I don't wanna give you nothing

'Cause you never give me nothing back

Why can't you be good for something?

Not one shirt off your back

Why can't you be good for something?

Not one shirt off your back »

Young and Beautiful

Leto:

« Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?

Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?

I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

Dear Lord, when I get to Heaven

Please let me bring my man

When he comes, tell me that you'll let him in

Father, tell me if you can

All that grace, all that body

All that face makes me wanna party

He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds »

National Anthem

here you go :))

« I'm your national anthem

God, you're so handsome

Take me to the Hamptons, Bugatti Veyron

He loves to romance 'em, reckless abandon

Holding me for ransom, upper echelon

He says to be cool but, I don't know how yet

Wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck

I said, "Can we party later on?"

He said, "Yes, yes, yes" »

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jackiestarsister · 2 years

Text

There is a musical about ADHD

Since apparently it’s ADHD Awareness Month, I thought I’d share something I wrote recently: my reaction to discovering the musical adaptation of The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan.

I read The Lightning Thief as a young teen, though not the rest of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series. I’m now revisiting the series because this summer, I came across the musical soundtrack on Spotify, and then found recordings of productions on YouTube.

With music and lyrics by Rob Rokicki and a book by Joe Tracz, The Lightning Thief: The Percy Jackson Musical is impressively faithful to the source material. Even with some changes from page to stage, the storytelling quality is fantastic (much better than the movies!). But what really surprised and impressed me was how much it resonated with me as someone who has ADD. Altogether, the musical feels like an allegory for the neurodivergent experience.

In the book, there are scattered references to ADHD and the kinds of symptoms it manifests—impulsiveness, procrastination, time blindness (demonstrated quite literally by the lotus-eaters). But the show delves much deeper into the emotional life of a person who has a learning disability or mental disorder: alienation, anger, resentment, self-blame, low self-esteem. The music matches these emotions, often angsty and sometimes harsh. The overall tone of the show is chaotic, which is how our brains and our lives can feel. The lyrics of some songs may sound like a lot of whining, but imagine the kind of real-life thought spiral that that represents. (Then imagine being frustrated with yourself after realizing how much time you just wasted on that worrying.)

What’s cool is that in the story, conditions like ADHD and dyslexia are explained to be characteristics of the demigods, because their minds are hardwired for ancient Greek, and their bodies have instincts and reflexes that would keep them alive in battle. In a very real way, the things that make them different—the things that Percy initially thinks are causing his problems and holding him back in life—turn out to be their greatest assets. That’s an empowering idea, and expressing it through music makes it even more powerful!

It's also good to see that the characters with ADHD are not stereotyped. The same condition can look different in different people, due to a variety of factors--how they are wired, the individual’s response to having it, and the kind of environment they are in. Contrast Percy, who is put through tough schools and labeled as a delinquent, and Annabeth, who trains at a camp for kids like her and is a complete perfectionist. We have different personalities, we develop different kinds of coping mechanisms, and we go on different journeys of learning to function in a world that was not designed for minds like ours.

Honestly, it feels like Percy and the other half-bloods could be speaking for all neurodivergent people. The encouragement of “Strong,” the anger and despondency of “Good Kid,” the longing for recognition and approval in “My Grand Plan,” the acceptance and conviction in “Son of Poseidon,” and the determination of “Bring on the Monsters” all ring true. Finding people with experiences like yours can feel like finding a new family and home. And Percy’s indecision in “Last Day of Summer” describes the kind of dilemma I've faced at different points in my life: whether to stay in an environment that is easier to function in, or venture into the world where we’ll have to face challenges.

You can find the soundtrack on YouTube or on Spotify. I strongly recommend seeing or listening to the musical if you or anyone you care about has AD(H)D, dyslexia, or other mental disorders or disabilities (or whatever the medically/socially acceptable terminology is now).

Even as an adult, the idea that qualities we consider weaknesses and deficits can actually be strengths is really encouraging and inspiring.

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livslunaticdamiansdisciple18 · 7 months

Text

My Oh My- Jey Uso

Jey Uso x Savannah Morgan

Warnings: Smut, 18+!!!!

Word Count: 754

A/N: This is the first fic in the M.O.M (My Oh My) series. I was listening to this song (which is up top) when I decided to make a fic out of it like I do for some reason. So I hope you enjoy it. Let's get into it.

Savannah had been dreaming of wrestling at WrestleMania for the longest time. Her popularity has finally taken off after she debuted and after she’d been seen training with legends like The Undertaker. She never thought she'd be able to wrestle in front of thousands of people at WrestleMania. It was like her dreams were coming true!

No one knew who she had feelings for or more importantly who she was dating. If they had they might have assumed that was how she got such a huge push in the wrestling world. Savannah wasn't a push over by any means but she would let that man do things to her that the men she had dated before could only have dreamed of! The way he took her for another round on the dining room table after dinner, eating her pussy like she was his last meal, bending over the table and pulling her arms behind her back "who's pussy is this?" He said, letting go of one arm and grabbing her hair "answer me!" He'd growl and she'd scream for him to fuck her harder. "What's my name baby?"

"Savannah, are you ready to go?" One of the crew member said snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Huh? Oh yeah I'm ready to go!" She smiled knowing that he was gonna be out there but she had to keep herself together and not let him know she was missing him. She couldn't give him the satisfaction.

She'd done this a million times before, wrestling in front of thousands of people but he was never around to see it and now her heart was pounding. Was he gonna tease her while she was in the ring wrestling in front of thousands of people? All she could do was wait. But she had a plan. They had both discussed how they were gonna announce they were a couple and she came up with an idea. After she was done with her match she was supposed to say "Yeet" and he was gonna come up and give her a kiss but knowing him like she did he would always change shit at the last minute.

"Here we go!" she said, psyching herself up. She walked out to the ring with a smile. She'd had her clothes custom made. She wanted something sexy but something that she could move around easily in and the designers had made the perfect ensemble!

She heard her opponent's entrance and the cheer of the audience.

"You got this Savannah! You could take her down. You’ve been training with legends for gods sake. You can do it!" Scanning around the audience for him she found him just before the bell rang "Everything’s good right? They have to catch you if they can!" She winked at him. "There he is “Main Event” Jey Uso. He’s also my man."

This match was her favorite because she could tease him and he couldn't do anything about it... Yet!

"Come on! 1, 2, 3 ref" Her voice said, annoyed as her opponent kept kicking out. As she winked at him again he adjusted in his seat trying to hide the bulge that was forming. He was gonna make her beg him later. She looked sexy as fuck in that outfit! He wanted to jump in the ring and take her right there not caring who saw but this was a family show /event and he couldn't. "1, 2, 3. Yes I’m the new Women’s World Champion" she said directly to him watching him lick his lips. "Yes. That training and me constantly putting in the work paid off. '' As the match finished and the crowd cheered she prepared herself for what was to follow. Taking a deep breath she put the microphone to her lips and yelled "Wrestlemania!!" Giving a pause for cheers "YEET!!" Everyone in the crowd cheered and up the ramp he walked to her grabbing her in his embrace and kissing her in front of thousands of people.

"Jey Uso is dating Savannah Morgan. The new Women’s World Champion" Michael Cole said through the announcer's mic.

She lowered the microphone and felt the tickle of his beard against her ear "MINE" he growled making her bite her lip.

"That was an amazing match baby girl" he said admiring her performance "But that outfit" he growled in her ear "is coming off later! I'm gonna make sure we leave our DNA all over the hotel room!" She lightly punched his arm and they left the arena.

-I hope you guys enjoyed this! I had fun writing it. I love you guys so so so so so much. <33333

#wrestlemania #jey uso x oc #jey uso fic #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso smut #jey uso #Spotify

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casuallyawkardd · 7 months

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hi! I had a request- would you maybe write a hobie brown x reader smut based on the song"Fuck away the pain" by Divide the Day? if it's not too much bother of course :') thank you!!

Yes, yes, yes gorgeous baby boy 🥰 thank you for your patience. I listened to this song as preparation and got an immediate idea of what I wanted to do, but for some reason my brain couldn't process the words I wanted to write. So I eventually word vomitted everything out and editted it into being something actually readable so I hope you enjoy 😁

Link to the song is here if y'all wanna listen while you read

Pairing: Hobie Brown x GN!Reader

Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI! Sex, oral sex, rough sex, dubious consent cuz Y/N drunk but we gucci, angst, slight hurt and no comfort for anyone

"You two broke up again, didn'tcha?" Hobie always seems to know where he's wanted, at least when you needed him. However, the candid nature of his voice was less than appreciated.

"How do you reckon?" you ask back, bitterly as you take another swig of your vodka soda. The teasing smile he has plastered on his face only seems to widen, resting his elbow on the bar as he leans a little closer, flicking some of your hair out of your face.

"You only ever come back to this pub when he does," he speaks simply, matter of factly. "What was it this time? Parents didn't like yah? Needed some 'space'?"

"He cheated on me," you answer reluctantly, sounding almost woeful as your head goes to rest in your palm, looking anywhere but him.

"Again?" Hobie scoffs, the sound grinding against your psyche. He never said 'I told you so' whenever you got back with your now ex, only to be broken up with a few months later. It had grown to become an annoying habit of yours. While he never said the words outright, his responses were damn near close every time.

"If you're going to be a dick tonight, I'm not in the mood for it."

"Easy there," Hobie soothes, holding up a placating hand and chuckling at your little outburst. "I'm not the one you should be pissed at."

"You're close to it."

"Oh, I'm wounded," he laughs again, hand over his heart like you'd just wounded him. You roll your eyes at the sight, downing the rest of your drink and signaling to the bartender for another. Hobie watches you, you know he does, and yet you have gotten so good at ignoring his stares. "Come on, I'll order us a couple rounds," he asks the bartender for two shots when they drop off your new drink, already knowing your poison of choice.

"Are you helping me drink away my sorrows?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

You roll your eyes again, the one corner of your mouth turning upward being his hint that you were starting to get a sense of humor again. "You're a bad influence, Hobbs."

He matches your expression, picking up his shot once it arrives and holding it up in preparation of a toast. "When am I ever not?"

And so begins the routine, at least that's what Hobie called it. He hated routine, the mundaness of it all, routine becoming the norm and he hated normalcy more. But this routine was starting to grow on him, or maybe he despised it the most, that was something Hobie had yet to decide.

On one hand, he didn't like to see you so upset, and over an asshole like your ex no less. Hobie never liked the guy, some privileged git from the other side of town, he never knew what you saw in him. They say opposites attract and in your case it was true, but the two of you seemed to repel each other just as much. He liked blowing his parent's money on whatever caught his attention that week, while you understood the feeling of living paycheck to paycheck and tended to be very frugal because of it. He liked going out to upscale restaurants and boating with his friends, while you were content enough with cheap drinks and the occasional bonfire. He liked to chase girls in designer dresses, while you were the one left to pick up the pieces of yourself.

But that's where Hobie came in. He liked being the one to help you put yourself together again, whether it be over drinks or...otherwise. Hobie was always good at listening, good at maintaining the unbiased opinion as you drunkenly vented on your relationship and everything that went wrong this time around. He'd chime in where it was needed, maybe even plant a joke or two into the conversation and by the end you were at least smiling again.

"Thanks Hobbs, I don't deserve someone like you. You really are my best mate," you would say and Hobie would have to smile and brush it off.

"Nah, you deserve better," was what he would say back. And he meant it, every word. Not someone like your ex, who criticized the amount of black in your wardrobe and bought your love with jewelry you didn't even like. Someone who got you, accepted you as you were, every flaw and perfection included. Hobie could be that person, he knew he could, but he also knew he never would be. Not with the dynamic you insisted the two of you keep.

'You're my best friend, Hobie,' you'd say, 'the only guy I can always count on.' Hobie took every comment on the chin, accepting his fate. Seeing you with other men, specifically your ex, never made him jealous. Hobie didn't get jealous. Rather, he was...disappointed? Disheartened you'd rather let some prick like your ex know you at your most intimate when you could do better. Even if 'better' wasn't him.

But those feelings didn't matter right now, not when he was the one you were leaning against as the two of you walked back to his place. You had insisted on it, you always did. It was just another step to the routine you two had established.

"Why don't you wanna go back to your place? It's not far," Hobie always asked.

You'd shrug, "Cuz you're not gonna be there," would be your response.

The lock clicked open, Hobie having to use his shoulder to shove the old door to his apartment open; repeating the action again when he had to force it shut again. He made his way to the small kitchenette, getting you a glass of tap water. Meanwhile, you roamed the small flat, having been away for months and now refamiliarizing yourself with what used to be your second home.

"It hasn't changed a bit," he heard you say, a short chuckle escaping his throat. When he steps out of the kitchenette, you're already sitting on the couch, flipping through the bits of newspaper scattered on the coffee table. When you look up at him, a smile graces your features, the alcohol in your system making it slightly more crooked.

You accept your glass of water with a 'thank you' and take a few sips, Hobie sitting down beside you and lounging back against the leather cushions. He listens at your attempts to delay the inevitable, recounting the countless memories the two of you shared in this small space. The late nights listening to old records, lazy mornings eating leftover bar food. On and on you talk until you're leaning on the arm he has slung over the back of the couch, looking up at him with hazy eyes.

Then you're turning to face him, leaning in until your lips are pressing against his. Hesitant at first, before colliding again with more intention. Hobie returns the gesture, not moving to touch and rather savor the softness of you. "You're drunk," he gently reminds, peeking his eyes open to stare down at your flushed face.

It makes you pause, swallowing thickly before you respond. "So are you," is your groundbreaking rebuttal and it makes him snort. His fingers comb your hair back, kissing your forehead. Then each of your eyelids, nose, cheeks and finally your lips once more. Hobie lets you take the lead, letting you choose when you slide into his lap, straddling his hips and grinding your clothed sex into his. He swallows every small gasp and groan, a hand at the small of your back to keep you in place while he licks and nibbles along your jaw and neck.

The intimacy of it is cut short as you pull away slightly, sinking to the floor between his knees. Your hands seem to move of their own accord, unbuckling his belts and touching him through his pants. Hobie opens his mouth to object, remind you that you weren't thinking clearly, but the words die on his lips when you're freeing him from the confines of his trousers.

He loves your lips. Loves the words that come out of them, how soft they are against his skin and how perfectly they wrap around his cock. A low groan escapes him, leaning his head back on the leather as you set the pace. You're taunting him, slowly sucking him off and holding his hips in place when he tries to buck down your throat.

"Y/N," he groans, a warning that he's close. And yet you're unrelenting, cheeks hollowing as you suck harder and take him deeper. Hobie's teeth grit together, urging himself to pull you back up, a wet pop echoing in the small, studio apartment before he kisses you once again. "This is about you," he reminds, guiding you back to the couch and laying you across the cushions.

Hobie prided himself in not being just another one of your mediocre fucks. It was something you reminded him of during the late night pillow talk. He knows every gasp and moan escaping your lips is genuine, not the pity noises you'd confessed you gave your ex. The soft whimpers you try to muffle as his teeth pinch your nipples, the sharp moans as his fingers explore your insides, stretching and prodding until you writhing beneath him.

"Hobie, please..." you plead, making his dark eyes glance up to your flushed features. It only riles him up further, lips meeting yours firmly. His tongue finds yours, the two dancing together in a passionate kiss. Then he's pulling away just as quickly, lifting you and maneuvering your body until you're bent over the back of the couch.

The remainder of the clothes you both have on join the others on the floor, Hobie taking a moment to admire the view. "God, you're perfect," he groans, hands groping the globes of your ass and massaging the muscle in his large hands.

He resists the urge to cum right then, once his length finds its way back into your warmth. A long moan escapes you as he fills you inch by inch, your walls stretching around him like it's muscle memory. Before you can even think how much better he feels inside you compared to your ex, Hobie is thrusting his hips against your ass. It pushes you into the cushions, practically falling over the back of the couch if Hobie's hands didn't hold your hips so tightly.

The first thrust is meant as a reminder. That you're in his flat taking his cock. Afterward he's a little more gentle, thrusts steady and intentional. Hobie thrusts deep, branding your insides with the shape of his cock. Hoping this time you'll remember his touch, savor every bolt of pleasure that shoots up your spine. It's his way of saying this could be your life. That you could be with someone loyal who wants to fulfill your deepest desires and fuck you until morning.

"Fuck, Hobie," you cry out when his thrusts start to quicken. He's glad you can't see the smug smirk on his face, loving when you say his name in moments like these. How if he angles his hips just right that you'll start to scream it.

His name is a mantra spilling past your lips, over and over until you're coming undone around him. But Hobie isn't perturbed just yet. After he's done taking you on the couch, he has you on the floor, then the kitchen counter and on the bed as well. He gives you the chance to catch your breath between intimate encounters, offering you his shower after pounding you into the mattress. When you mutter something about not wanting to be alone, he follows you in, fucking you against the tile of the shower as well.

It's the early hours of the morning when the two of you have exhausted yourselves. Hobie insists on you drinking another glass of water before passing out in his bed, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence as you do. As you set the glass down on the floorboards, your phone buzzes and Hobie's heart sinks.

He knows who it is without you having to say, watching on as you read the text that just came in. It's the part of the routine where everything crumbles, the illusion of tonight starts to fade. Usually he had more time, your ex waiting until the next day to ask if you could meet up and 'talk'. Which usually meant listening to his newest bullshit excuse.

Hobie watches as you look at the message, contemplation etched into your features before you set the device down again. "I'm so done with that asshole," you mutter as you curl against his side, ready to drift off to sleep. For a moment he just stares, takes in the sight of you and the feeling of your bare skin touching his.

With a heavy sigh, Hobie settles in beside you, tucking your head under his chin. He decides to savor this moment a little longer. Because he knows that come morning you'll go back on your word. That you'll meet up with your ex, reconcile and reconvene with your 'best mate' a few months down the line. You always do.

Tags: @khaleesihavilliard @graysonshaven @qiaipia @3zae-zae3 @thedevax @erissco @cheezit-luv3rr @leo-lvr @stqrlightrs

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #spiderman across the spiderverse #hobie brown smut #spiderman atsv #spider punk #spiderpunk x reader

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blysse-and-blunder · 8 months

Text

in lieu of a halloween party

~ 10pm, sunday, oct 29, 2023

if i listen really closely i can hear the quiet snoozy breathing of the sweet black cat who now lives in my room! oh, now she is purring.

(contains minor mention of the study of death/dead bodies, but also cat pictures, classical music, and minor spoilers for the end of the most recent season of star trek: strange new worlds)

reading more victoria goddard (blackcurrant fool is somehow *even* *more* for medievalist academics, they visit fantasy university and then the main character saves the day through the power of his dissertation research for crying out loud), some assorted libby holds from jenny odell and amitav ghosh, some kj charles inspired by the medieval mlm romance i finished a few weeks ago (which was great but i was so taken with the idea of posting a whole historical assessment that i scared myself out of talking about it, so maybe next time).

but the book that's been the biggest presence in my life lately has been the audio book version of mary roach's stiff: the curious lives of human cadavers, which i picked up because it had a little Moment back when it came out and i remember thinking that an approachable, sympathetic look at this kind of medical history would be fascinating. and it is! it is just as full of interesting information and humorous, humanizing turns of phrase as you'd like! roach doesn't hesitate to ask, like, intense questions of the people she interviews, nor does she ignore or downplay various gruesome topics, but the audiobook narrator has a hint of a southern accent and gets the mix of tones of voice (from ironic to earnest and back) really nicely. and also, sometimes i'm glad i'm listening to it as an audio book so i don't have to consciously continue turning pages, it'll keep playing even if i stop listening or need to disengage, because there's no shortage of actually quite challenging material. not for the faint of heart, but also, i can't regret reading it.

watching the new season of ghosts from the bbc! the second season of ofmd of course, both because it was fun and because i had to out of self-defense; uhhhh what else this month has been so long and also so fast! the musical episode of strange new worlds which was GREAT. how good were some of those songs!! like on their own, i would listen to nyota and christine and la'an's songs-- reminded me of the mix CD a friend made me for a birthday one year that mixed, like, barenaked ladies with some songs from the buffy musical episode. then the finale of this season which (minor spoilers here) i found actually so compelling, like, i've been mildly ehh about a lot of the gorn stuff (not la'an, but the concept of the gorn always feels very old-school scifi and the more serious they try to play it, the worse that effect usually) but then the monster design and movement when they finally appear on screen? excellent.

though to be entirely honest, the thing i've come back to and watched/listened to most consistently has been the new series of dimension 20, burrow's end. i managed to tune in as a campaign was starting, and actually more or less keep up! huge for me. the bear in ep 2 was all-to-close to some of the body horror i'd just been reading about with stiff, so this month has been 'so you'd like to get better about dealing with body horror?' for me in a way. unintentionally. i think i am appreciating this series more than i would have if i hadn't read and enjoyed watership down a few years back, but the added edge of, like, for-real magic from the d&d elements makes it even more fun. i love the new (to me) players, i love seeing the old ones in their new roles, i love that while the conceit seems to be 'humans are like eldritch horrors to woodland creatures' on the surface, there's also clearly something (or things?) else going on.

listening checking in on my spotify daylist lately to see what moods i've been assigned (soul-crushing once, which was wild to see as a genre, but goblincore also so. whatever i guess!) paper writing lockdown included more autoheart, more yws gwynedd, and like a 24-hour lockdown on @lessthansix's 'deferring panic' playlist, from which i share the following track as a thank-you:

playing tuned into dnd as a virtual player tonight so that i could stay home and supervise the NEW BABY aka this little (large) black dumpling of a cat who i cannot quite believe is my very own. playing such classics as 'ribbon on a string' and 'this is a ball that makes food come out when you play with it, ooooooh' and 'i hope my eyes feel normal again after i stop putting my face directly on you so much and i have not somehow developed an allergy to cat dander in the six weeks since we last had a cat come visit'. playing the classic game, 'so you think you can be responsible for another life form! and are you willing to risk an increase in your experience for loss in order to gain an increase in your experience of love?' (also while we're here: why is naming the hardest part of any endeavor. naming wifi networks, naming pokemon, and now this, a real live creature! who i want to treat with love and also humor, while showing wit and personality at the same time. hell.)

making fixed up a sweater my housemate was going to get rid of. i am not, habitually, a fibercrafter (though not for want of opportunity or, even, interest sometimes), but this made me want to find other easy and quick things to do with yarn.

before: big fuck off hole between the cowl and neck line

after: used some yarn of a similar weight /softness that i already had, so it doesn't match but it's not like you see it. hidden little necklace of pearls.

working on writing a paper for my first ever 30-min conference presentation, which is also going to be the first time i submit a paper ahead of time for someone (a professor i do not usually work with, but whose work and career and writing i admire) to read and give real comments on. this is fine. i am simultaneously trying to use this as an opportunity to squish an entire chapter's worth of notes and observations and ideas into a single presentation, and trying to not do that. but i want her take on all of it! i also...do need to write all of it. but getting a chance to slow down and take a bit of extra time with it was also very welcome. gave a guest lecture this week on a subject only vaguely related to my own work, which required a lot of extra reading (not even to know what to say, but just to be confident that i wasn't missing anything massive), and also did organize my department's halloween party, so. it's been a busy last ten days, and i'm excited to wrap some of this up.

bonus: cat pictures! thank you for reading this far, i think we will be going with luna? her grace, lunette st. cat, first marquise of dumplingdom. something.

#in lieu of a commonplace book #ilcb #weekly roundup #monthly really #Spotify

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iamthenerdqueen · 8 months

Text

The Red String of Faith - Chapter XIV

Idol!AteezXOCs Soulmates!ot8AteezXOCs OCXOC Slight Social Media AU!

MDNI 18+ ONLY

Pep the new look, brought to you by the IRL Lia. Design Queen.

also did not set out for this to be smut but.... SMUT

slight twigger warnings:Polyamory, group of 10, two OC's -feel free to replace one OC with yourself if you'd like- , listen this is an idea me and my best friend had and is something for fun read at own risk, not edited as always, also we are starting to explore themes such as bxb and gxg if thats not for you, this story may not be for you.

Chapter IX. Chapter X, Chapter XI, Chapter XII, Chapter XIII, Next

“Okay, Okay. I will compromise. The baby may be called Wooyoung Jr.” Wooyoung said through a mouthful of chicken as they were now in the den with some random movie playing on the TV as they spoke over what to name the baby.

“How is that a compromise? You just added jr and said it in English,” Yunho called out to his soulmate in disbelief as they had all vetoed his suggestion of Wooyoung as a name for the child more than once by now.

Lia was neck deep in a list of names she had been working with since high school, scrolling through them with Jongho whose chest she rested against while laying on the couch.

“What does life look like now, do we tell fans or try to keep it from the public?” Seonghwa was having the worst time processing the news and the fact that their lives were ticking down to such a drastic change. He wasn’t unhappy with the baby, just still in shock at the news.

“I won’t be able to hide it on stream for more than a couple months, and then I’d have to at least let my viewers know that not only has there been a change in our soulmate tether but also that there will be a baby soon,” nothing was set in stone and Lia was speaking off the top of her head but there was no denying that they could only take it so far until she couldn’t hide it anymore.

“I think we need to talk it over with the company as well before anything is decided. They don’t control this part of our lives but they always help us when they can,” San chimed in, speaking with a rather clear head about the entire situation.

They had all had rather different reactions to the news after it settled, obviously, Hongjoong and Seonghwa were freaking out a bit more than the other boys. Everyone would be a parent in some way, as international soulmate law dictated that soulgroups had the same parental rights. It was the fact that it would be their child, the little one would either carry the name Kim or Park. Atiny would have a real reason to call them father now.

San and Yunho had proved to be the most calm through the whole thing. After some initial shock, they had become rather comfortable with everything. Jongho was doing okay also, perhaps a little scared even. His mind was full of the what ifs but more than anything he was happy there was nothing wrong with his soulmate. Wooyoung had turned to his humor to process everything, he was working very hard to keep the tension mellow. Yeosang and Mingi were more quiet than normal, feeling more awkward with the situation. Their anxiety was running rather high, everyone’s anxiety was up honestly.

The group was falling back into a comfortable chatter, doing their best to just be in the moment. Lyra, San, and Yeosang were talking about the idea of doing a very specific themed nursery as a surprise for Lia. She couldn’t hear them as they were across the den and doing half of their talking in a small group chat.

“No, I think our best bet is Harry Potter or Twilight,” Lyra said after seeing Yeosang’s suggestion in their group chat. They were not going to theme it after the ponytail song in any way shape or form.

“I think my suggestion was superior, but whatever,” Yeosang gained annoyance at the fact that his last suggestion had been vetoed by the others in their newly formed committee.

“You’re such a little- “ Lyra stopped for a second and a puzzled look came on her face before a laughably deep frown.

“What?” Yeosang and San asked in unison at the look on her face.

“I don’t think there is a good translation for that, so i’ll just have to call you a little turd in English. You little turd,” Lyra stuck her tongue out at Yeosang but was too slow to dodge him as he lightly tossed himself forward onto her.

“A little turd? How dare you call me a little turd,” He was doing his best to keep her pinned down while not putting his entire body weight on her. His hands were torture devices as he tickled Lyra.

“Oh no no please stop, oh god,’ Lyra was crying from how hard she was laughing at being tickled and was doing her best to escape from the prison that was Yeosang’s arms.

“Not until you take it back and say Yeosang’s idea is the best idea.” His tickling speed increased in an effort to extract his desired reaction from his soulmate.

“Never, I will never submit, no,” Lyra squealed her words so loudly that everyone in the room was watching the two as they rough housed like lovesick teenagers. The moment was a reminder of who they were at their core. Just a group of kids who had grown up too fast and had then somehow found their way to each other.

Yeosang dipped his head close to her ear, so close that his lips brushed up against her with every breath, “I’m sure that I have ways to make you submit, I can feel the way you squirm against me no. I can only imagine how you look with your back arched off the bed and my cock balls deep in your cunt.” His words were low and sultry as his voice dipped into his deeper register, his hands stopped their assault as they went to Lyra’s hips.

Lyra lifted her head slightly as she felt Yeosang nip all but gently at her neck. She opened her eyes as her head was tilted back only to see the amused looks of the rest of her soulmates. It’s not that she had forgotten they were in the room, more so that she simply didn’t care. Clothes had become less of a mandatory thing in their home as they became more comfortable in their new setting. The boys were often in nothing more than their boxers and Lia hated wearing pants. Everyone’s tits were out on more than one occasion.

“We’re still here ya know,” Lia and Wooyoung were having way too much fun with the little show they had witnessed.

“Sorry, I don’t do shows for free,” Yeosang was feeling particularly cheeky as he spoke toward his soulmates as he stood up from his spot on the couch pulling Lyra up into a sitting position.

“Lyra, your phone is blowing up. Who's texting you so late at night?” Yunho tossed Lyra her long-forgotten phone from where it had fallen to the floor during her and Yeosang's horseplay.

“Oh hell, I don’t know. Probably one of the kids, who knows.” Lyra fully expected some of the trainees to be blowing up her phone with TikTok in English as they had taken to sending her but instead, it was dozens of messages from Yerim.

“It’s Yerim.” Lyra showed her phone to Yunho who was leaning over her shoulder, “I guess I never updated her after I left so abruptly from our dinner last night.”

“She's being a bit much, huh?” Lia asked, seeing the countless texts that Lyra had received from the manager. It was a little unsettling for the pregnant female but she just pushed it aside. Everything that had gone on in the past few hours had stressed her out and she thought she was perhaps reading into it.

“I’m sure she’s just worried, it had to be unsettling for me to leave like that and then not be at work today,” Lyra thought nothing of it. Just her new friend showing concern for her and her soulmates' well-being.

They didn’t think much more of it as they began to start scattering for the night, Lia went to her room followed closely by the two oldest who had been more clingy to her since the news in the early afternoon.

Lyra was bent over putting some of the leftovers from their dinner into the fridge when she felt someone come to stand behind her.

“Did you think we could forget about your little challenge earlier just like that?” Yeosangs hands pulled her hips and ass up against him. Lyra could feel his dick against her, even through his sweats she could feel how hard he was.

As she straightened up from her bent position, Lyra made sure to push back against her even more. Two could play this game.

“Awe, is Yeosangie having a hard time?” Lyra ground her ass against his crotch harder this time, “Hmm?” She asked as he let out a groan at her teasing motions.

“Yeah, a real hard time. I think you’re going to have to help me,” Yeosang had slipped one hand from its place at her hip up under her shirt until he had a handful of her tits. His hips were bucking into her just slightly as he played with her while her hand reached around to tangle itself into his hair.

“Am I?” Lyra was teasing him again, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling just slightly. It was one of his weaknesses, sending chills down his spine and straight to his cock.

“I think you are,” Yeosang was about to start nipping at her neck again just as he had on the couch when they heard one of their other soulmates walking toward the kitchen and while he had no plans on stopping what they were doing, Lyra used the opportunity to make this so much harder on him.

She slipped from his grasp and over to the other counter where she could see Mingi making his way over toward the kitchen. He had his airpods in and obviously hadn’t heard anything from the kitchen. She waved at him while pretending to be scrolling on her phone, making it all look casual. It took him a few minutes to grab his snack from the fridge before he started down the hall toward Yunho’s room where the two were playing some sort of video game.

“You better believe I don’t care if a single one of them walk in here, I’m about to fuck you raw in this kitchen.” Yeosang’s voice had gone deep again, one of his hands came to sit right beside hers on the counter and the other returned to her waist.

“I can’t wait,” Lyra was giddy as she laid her hand over Yeosang’s that was on her waist and guided his hand lower until he got the idea. Yeosang played with the band of her shorts before he slipped his hand inside her underwear.

Lyra bit out a moan as she felt Yeosang start to circle her clit, her hips started rocking with his rhythm. Yeosang was thriving off the sounds she was making, he wanted her to be so loud that it drew every single other soulmate out to watch him make her fall apart.

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re soaked. I bet you’ve got a wet spot on those pretty little pink shorts you’ve got on,” Yeosang groaned as he ground against her ass again, “Pink is by far my favorite color on you and these shorts drive me wild. Do you know how hard it is for me to stop myself from finding you at work just so I can grab your ass? Make sure that every single one of those trainees knows that their precious ‘Noona’ belongs to me. Belongs to Ateez.”

Yeosang slipped one of his legs between Lyra's, forcing her legs further apart so he could slip his hand down more. His fingers found their way from her clit lower, he teased her entrance once, twice, and then a third time before he slid two fingers into her.

“Oh god,” Lyra moaned as Yeosang pumped his fingers hard onto her wet pussy. She could feel his long fingers brushing against her G-spot and Lyra leaned forward using the counter in front of her as a way to gain her balance. “You’re such a good slut for me, Doll. I can feel you getting tight, you wanna cum all over my finger?” Yeosang shifted his wrist to pump into her at a new angle and a yelp left Lyra. She was panting and splayed her hands out in front of her on the counter. Her moan only got louder as Yeosang stroked his fingers against her G-spot over and over, she was nearly screaming as she came.

She was trying to pull some deep breaths in, but what she didn’t expect was Yeosang to move his hand from the counter beside her to her neck in a flash. He pulled her back into his chest, his hand grasping her throat just strong enough, “Tell me how you taste, Doll.”

He brought his fingers which were covered in her juices up to her lips and without having to be told twice she sucked his fingers into her mouth. It was perhaps the most erotic thing Wooyoung and San had seen to date as they stood at the other end of the room. The noises that Lyra had been making had drawn them out thinking something bad had happened. It was a pleasant surprise, to say the least.

“Showing him how good you are with your mouth, Doll?” San made their presence known to the two caught up in their own lust in the kitchen.

“Mmmhmm” Lyra moaned a yes around Yeosangs fingers, she moved her hand back to Yeosangs crotch and rubbed to signal to him that she wanted him to fuck her. To fuck her right here in front of their other soulmates watching them.

“Let’s see how good she looks around my cock, huh boys?” Yeosang called to the others while he slid her shorts down before pulling his own pants and slamming into her. He held her against him still with the hand that was around her throat. Her tits were bouncing with the power of his thrust, nipples hard against the fabric of her shirt.

“God damn, Doll. How did we end up with two soulmates who both have such perfect tits?” Wooyoung chimed in watching, if he had any less restraint he would have been making his moves over to them to wrap his mouth around one of those pebbled nipples.

Yeosang bent Lyra at the waist so he could pound relentlessly into her, he had been damn near obsessed with her ass since that very first morning they spent in the same hotel suite. Watching it bouncy as he fucked her was nearly enough to make his eyes roll to the back of his head in pleasure.

“Fate knew exactly what it was doing, pairing us together. You were made to take my cock.” Yeosang was spurred on by his own words and the fact that he had an audience. What kind of idol would he be if he didn’t put on the best show he possibly could.

“I’m going to fill you, you’ll leak my cum for days. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Lyra could only nod as she was so caught up in her bliss.

“Lia’s already caring our baby, should I just knock you up now? So we can watch the two of you grow together. I can see it now, both of you round with tits bursting at the seams with milk. I’ll make you a mommy, is that what you want? For me to make you a mommy?” Yeosang was so close he could almost taste it, but he refused to cum first.

Slipping one hand back down to her clit, Yeosang began to pound into her and rub her clit at the same pace. Lyra could only take it for a second before she was seeing stars, he was soon to follow as he felt her clenched tightly around him.

San and Wooyoung shared a heated kiss after the show they had watched, planning to go have some fun of their very own in San’s room. As they were walking down the hall they heard something that almost ruined their mood, in a good way.

“I don’t know what life would have been like if we didn’t find Ateez, find all of you,” Lyra said as she planted a sweet kiss on Yeosang’s lips who was helping her put her clothes back in order.

“There is no lifetime where we wouldn’t have found the two of you, even if just from afar. We would have always known you somehow.” Yeosang kissed her forehead gently before pulling her toward the direction of his room.

A/N:

hi :) and welcome to i fell down a whole of Yeosang last night and we all must live with the outcomes. I have been dreaming about this smut scene since our first interaction with him, I hope you all enjoyed it.

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sluttery-withoutshame · 2 months

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When I’m down, I can choose to emotionally eat, or a can partake in some retail therapy. A friend wanted a Def Leppard RSD live album, and if not for him I would never have gone to my local record store, so I’m blaming him.

My Record Haul.

Dressed To Kill.

Ever since someone pointed out that the last KISS in the corner is spelled KIS, I can’t unsee it. Who designed this cover?

Love Gun.

Ever since @elrohare pointed out to me the smooshed groins I can’t unsee it.

Then the back cover is showing me the albums I didn’t buy today.

Ace Frehley.

This album is good quality! Like new. Who had this album and didn’t play it to death?

Again, showing me the albums I didn’t buy today…

Except…

Paul Stanley!

The cover of this is sooooo worn. Luckily the vinyl is schmick. I once read that Paul Stanley basically recorded a Kiss album without the rest of Kiss. I concur.

This one is Japanese, so the inner parts are different to the Ace album.

Dynasty.

When I think of Dynasty, I remember that line in Detroit Rock City “Kiss will never do a disco song!”

It doesn’t get more disco than this inner sleeve.

This also came with a mint poster inside!

Just for the sake of overkill, I also got this Aussie 12” of I Was Made For Loving You.

By popular demand!

The Elder!

I had to.

The bonus of this is that it’s Japanese, so it has the track listing as the band intended. But for some reason they cut “Escape From The Island”. But this track listing makes more sense. It’s not a bad album! It was just a bad idea at the time. Pink Floyd they ain’t.

Bootleg Interview Disc

I always love a strange release. Cleary this is from the no makeup era. It’ll be interesting to listen to this later.

This is certainly one way to turn a frown upside down. Bedtime soon, then a poorly organised festival tomorrow. Hope it goes ok. At least it’s not going to rain. I think when this is done I’ll feel emotionally better. Then I can binge listen to all these new purchases.

#kiss band #retail therapy

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orezby · 1 month

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Sage from High Guardian Spice (it’s my new obsession)

Here you can compare how much i changed her design.

Well i just didn’t change her outfit like that, but i wanted it to match the personnality i have come up with.

Most reviews and critics i saw lways came with the same idea : Sage is the worst character or at least the least liked one.

Well, i thought it was sad since she was one of the main protagonist. And she reminds me a lot at the character i really wanted to be as a child (in terms of powers and outfit). Not just her but also many of the characters in HGS... That must be why i like the show haha.

Anyway.

I thought while eating dinner with my family "what if Sage was just trying to show a confident facade but in reality she is just constantly freaking out about anything that’s happening ?” then the idea was born.

What if...Sage was really fond about Fashion ?

Noo don’t let leave stay pls :(

What i mean by that is..

She feels awful and disfusted by herself inside. Because her family wished to have a boy because for some reasons (i’m still trying why haha...sorry). So at first she dressed pretty and used make up to show her parents that they didn’t make the wrong choice. As the times goes by, she continues even though in her mind, it’s not to please her parents anymore, it’s to feel better. Because she is craving for people’s compliments, even though she doesn’t feel happy doing so. What she truly wants is to be herself. What she truly wants is to feel because she wants to. In others terms : freedom.

Ahh that girl is messy in the head. But i really like that kind of story in movies ! Why ? Cuz i’m a bit messy in the head too.

Ah i also have ideas for her interactions with Rosemary. And maybe her character development. Hihihi i want to share all of it here, i feel really excited. Many ideas but just two hands and one head. Plus i’m stupid and really not good in consistency. Or at least i try to be.

Idk if i was clear about Sage’s personality. In my head it’s totally clear but i know how bad i am at explication. Even so, i think she really gives of the vibe of this song :

If i like this artist ? Yes. If i am a real fan of this artist ? No.

I just listen to different genres and- anyway i’m out of context.

Byee. (Nobody gonna read all that T_T)

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theageoftheunderstatement · 2 years

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Alex Turner’s Interview with Rockin’ On Magazine, October Issue 2022

Written by Shino Kokawa

‘The Car’, a new album with an immersive, slow-burn pleasure that makes you lose track of time when you listen to it. I think it’s tremendously well thought out in terms of both detail and spatial design, but it’s an album aimed at a more organic sound compared to ‘Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino’, which was probably equally well thought out, wasn’t it?

Every single thing you just said, every single thing you just said is great. Thank you very much (laughs). So, first of all, I think this one is definitely influenced by the previous one. I think every piece of work that you did before it plays some kind of rehearsal role for the next one. I think it's absolutely true that this work is more organic than the last one. For example, there is self-expression in the lyrics, and the sound is music that comes straight from my inner self. The first song, which is the introduction to the album, started with a melody that suddenly came to me at one point, and it influenced the whole vibe of the album and everything I wrote later on. So you can hear something melancholy from this first track, and I think you can hear it throughout the whole album, here and there. But it's not like we decided, ‘Okay, this time we’re going to make something melancholy’. It just came out of me, organically, by accident, and you can hear it on the album. It’s an emotional thing that came naturally from within. With this album, we had time to really focus on the details, and we were able to explore dynamics that we’d never done before as a band, paying more attention to detail than ever before.

You described this album as a ‘return to Earth’ from the lunar world of the previous album.

(Laughs). Yes, it is. But to be honest, it’s not actually that simple, I think there are still lyrics on this album that have a sci-fi element to them, and I think there are parts that overlap with the last album. I think we’re trying to move away from that and get closer to Earth, but we haven’t completely come back to Earth yet. (Laughs).

Can you tell us about the starting point for this album, as fragmentary information had come up that Arctic Monkeys were starting to work on a new album around the summer of 2021?

The starting point is 2019, when we went to South America before the end of the tour for the last album, we wrote a song. That song was the starting point for the whole album. It just didn’t make it on this album. We were going to record it until the very end, and we were also going to make it the last song on the album, but we didn’t get into it in the end. However, you can hear the influence of that song from all the songs, and it’s like the song that ties everything together. That song is definitely the starting point for this album, and we’re definitely going to release it at some point.

What kind of song was it? The one with you playing the piano by yourself?

Yeah, yeah. There are a few songs on this album that I wrote on guitar. For example, ‘The Car’, and ‘Mr. Schwartz’. But basically I wrote them on piano. I wrote it by myself first, recorded a demo, then everyone listened to it, and then we got together in the studio and made the finished version.

There were photos online of you recording at Butley Priory, a Suffolk monastery, in the summer of 2021.

Yes, we worked alone for a while in 2020, and then we recorded in earnest as a band at that place last summer.

Did you have a definite theme or concept for the album at that point?

Yes, we did. I think we finally had a pretty clear idea of what the album was going to be about at that point. I don’t know, working with the band in Suffolk was like making a film. It was like shooting a film and then waiting for the editing process. With a film, depending on the editing process, the finished version can be completely different, but with this album, depending on the editing process, it could have gone in a completely different direction that I hadn’t anticipated. So when we all got together to record it, it was a process of just hammering into that sound that was in front of us, and then in the editing process, we would change the direction of the songs to the final finished form.

Was it a process with new musicians joining in and fleshing out the songs as you moved from one studio to another between Suffolk, London and Paris?

First we did it in Suffolk, then we went to La Frette outside Paris to record the vocals. And finally, we did the mixing in London. We also recorded the strings in London. This album was recorded one at a time, rather than all of us getting together and recording live. The whole thing was built up from the individual pieces that each of us created piece by piece. It was the most meticulous work I've ever done. In other words, it was a way of replacing what I had pre-recorded with each of us. What we wanted to do was get the whole band together at Butley Priory and use the energy that you feel in that place and the energy that comes from the band to gather the materials. The Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin had recorded at that place, and I thought it was similar to what we were working on.

As a long-time fan of yours, I’m pleased to see that this album features a lot of terrifyingly cool guitars. What motivated you to turn to guitars again on this album?

There were things that happened that I didn’t expect, like the distorted guitar sound at the end of ‘Body Paint’, which I didn’t expect at all. But when we got together and played it, that kind of energy, I mean the energy of being with the band again, it just suddenly sounded like that. When we got together as a band, suddenly I wanted to stand up with my guitar in my hand, and I thought, I shouldn’t be sitting at the piano and hiding. So the guitar sound on the album came from the excitement of being with my bandmates again. When I got back in the band, I think it just kind of dawned on me that I wanted to show people my guitar. That happened when we were recording at Butley Priory. As I said before, the recording there was done in the first place with the aim of collecting things that came from the energy of the band being together. So for me, it was that guitar sound.

The arpeggio on ‘Mr. Schwartz’ is really beautiful.

As for the arpeggios, I don’t think I’ve ever played a guitar like that before. I did a bit of picking when I did the music for the film Submarine, but then I thought, it’s time for me to pluck the strings with my fingers on an Arctic Monkeys record. So the arpeggio was an idea that came from that. Actually, when we all started working on it in 2019, I already had the idea of making it a guitar album, and I thought it would be a good idea. But I just couldn’t get to a place where we could get the same guitar sound that we used to play. However, I think there are moments in this record where the guitars sound like what we used to play in the past. It’s not like it’s ringing all the time, but at certain moments it shines.

What kind of challenges did Arctic Monkeys set for themselves with this album, as a guitar band, as opposed to the guitars of the past?

What I thought was important here was the dynamics. I wanted the guitars to feel like they were moving around in the whole piece. There’s quite a lot of guitar usage on this album, but it’s much more subdued than ever before, and I also wanted to experiment with some effects on this album that I hadn’t really used in the past. For example, this time I brought out a wah pedal and blew the dust off it (laughs). The thought of having that kind of sound again itself was very exciting.

By the way, who were your guitar guru artists on this album?

‘Body Paint’ was definitely aimed at a Mick Ronson-esque guitar. I think that’s pretty obvious. And then, hmm, when it comes to influences, I'm thinking of other things (long pause), but, um, that’s about all I can think of right now. More influences were, as I said before, finding the effects again this time, and the wah-wah sound seemed to be very funny (laughs). That alone made me smile. I think those things had an effect.

On the other hand, the cinematic sound from the previous album is still present. From Scott Walker and Burt Bacharach-esque orchestral pop to Morricone and Nino Rota.

Yes.

Even something reminiscent of John Barry again. In your last album, you cited Dion’s Born To Be With You as an inspiration.

Yes. I was actually listening to that album again this morning. I’ve been listening to the film composers you just mentioned for a really long time, and I still enjoy listening to them so much that I think I’ve already absorbed so much of it that it’s almost become part of my DNA to the point where I can’t really draw a line as an objective influence. So when I write songs, I think it comes out naturally. But the difference is that in the end, what we do is just pop music. So in other words, it’s completed through that filter. The composers that you just mentioned don’t make pop music, and that’s what makes me think they are very different.

What is exciting about this album is that the ‘layers’ created by the minimal band sound and the ‘layers’ created by the extravagant orchestra are suddenly swapped up and down, and their strengths and weaknesses are reversed at the drop of a hat. These two layers are reminiscent of the relationship between dialogue and voice-over in film, for example.

I like the idea of voice-overs, I’ll use that next time when I'm a journalist (laughs). Yeah, but what you just said was definitely the intention and I thought it was the only way the album could work. So when a wave comes, we embrace it, and like a wave, each part comes and goes, each part has its place. I wasn’t interested in the typical rock band with strings (laughs). In a way, I think that's even a little bit unrealistic. But I thought the idea of a “rock band” appearing and disappearing was possible. That’s why I sometimes look at rock bands from a bird’s eye view. I think this album is only possible with that kind of agreement, and it actually took me a long time to figure out how to make it work. In other words, at the mixing stage, depending on the ...... time, I tried not to show myself. Sometimes I pulled myself back, sometimes I turned myself off, sometimes I let go and tried not to hold on to what I was thinking or what ideas I had when I was recording. If you hold on to what you were thinking at the time, you might think that you absolutely have to keep this part. In other words, this time, I decided that if I thought something didn't fit into the overall picture, I would delete it, no matter what thoughts were put into it, and I think I was able to do that well. Not only the rock band elements, but also the string section, we recorded something so epic that normally I would have wanted to leave it as it was, but I deleted everything that I didn’t think would fit. So the most important thing about this album was that the overall balance was paramount above all else.

Earlier, you mentioned that there are still sci-fi elements in the lyrics. Nevertheless, the lyrics of this album have come down to earth. For example, “Lunching with an English tourist” and “Opening a mini champagne bottle” described a holiday at a seaside resort somewhere, or scenes from a journey.

“The Car” is certainly like that. And “I Ain't Quite Where I Think I Am” has an island in it. So I think you could say that there’s a European feel to it, but what I'm trying to say there is that I know where I am. I know where I am. And I think that's what you see in a lot of parts on this album. I think one of the things that the lyrics on this album talk about is the passage of a tremendous amount of time. And that leads to a feeling of “So where am I now?”, which led to the description of places. I just performed at Reading Festival a few weeks ago, and it reminded me of the first time I performed in Reading. I think I was 19 or 20 or something. I felt really nostalgic and I was extremely excited when I actually got on stage. And when I did the maths, it had been 17 years since the moment I first performed. It was very hard to accept that fact. I thought, “No way, that can't be true, that can't be true” (laughs). Yeah, I think the lyrics on this album express that feeling in some ways.

Does it mean melancholy about the past? Or is it about looking at it objectively?

There may be lyrics about the past, but the music doesn’t look back. The music as a whole feels like it’s about moving forward. So it’s a contradictory relationship, and it’s kind of balanced in that way.

Nevertheless, the vocal excellence of this album is impressive. You said in the press release that you “channeled the expression of emotions so deep that sometimes the words almost seem to get in the way” - does that mean that the lyrical content of this album is not that relevant to the vocalisation?

Oh ...... it’s ...... (long pause), I think it all has to work together to become something that strikes a chord with ...... people. It’s not just the vocals, it’s the song. Not just the vocals, but the song, the melody, the chords, the lyrics. Singers often talk about how their voice comes from their soul, from their instincts. In other words, you don’t sing from your head, you want to sing from here (pointing to the belly). But actually, it’s sometimes difficult to reach my instinctive voice. ...... I used to remember Leon Russell’s wonderful song “A Song for You”, where he sings, “If my words don’t come together / Listen to the melody / Cause my love is in there hiding.” That's the lyric I thought about. That alone is a very clever expression (laughs), and it sums up all I wanted to say. I mean, what I’m trying to express here is in something that goes beyond words.

How do you think your vocals on this album were able to embody such deep emotion, even beyond words?

I just have to trust my instincts. And maybe accepting how I’m feeling in this moment. I tried to connect to that. I think that’s something that gradually increases over time, and then, physically, growing up [laughs]. I’ve been thinking about that over time. In fact, compared to when I was 18, my voice is definitely a bit lower. I really feel that now. I didn’t realize that my voice had changed over time, but now when I get on stage and try to sing my first songs or my old songs, I feel like my voice back then was so high that I would really get out of breath (laughs).

What is the album title ‘The Car’ a metaphor for? I heard that it was inspired by a photograph that Matt Helders took. When I saw that picture, I had the feeling that something was about to start, like the first scene in the film.

Yeah, that's exactly right. When I saw that photo, I was really excited too. It was taken by Matt, our drummer, and it was taken long before the new songs were written, and as soon as I saw it, I thought, ‘Something's about to start’ (laughs). Then I also thought that the photo definitely had to be named as ‘The Car’. That was the beginning of everything. Of course, I wanted to shorten the title of this album after the previous one (laughs). So it was perfect. But I just thought it would be nice because the title doesn’t symbolize anything about the whole record, it's not really connected to it, it’s rather uncluttered.

Arctic Monkeys celebrates their 20th anniversary this year. What do you think, is the 20-year history of Arctic Monkeys something that is a natural projection of your lives?

No, seriously, it’s really been 20 years since we all got together in the summer of 2002 in a garage and met everybody. So I think there’s definitely a sense of looking back on that somewhere on the album, but it’s not directly about ‘we’ve been together 20 years now’ (laughs), but there are some musical elements where we kind of come to terms with that.

Is the last 20 years a personal story of the four of you growing up? Or did you feel like you were running a huge project called Arctic Monkeys?

Probably a bit of both, I suppose. Yeah, but it's interesting. I know what you mean. The relationship between the four of us is something that goes back to our childhood, before the band started, before the name Arctic Monkeys, before the concept of a band. Our growth story is definitely part of the band’s growth story, but at a certain point we had to separate the two. At some point, I had to separate the concept of the band “Arctic Monkeys” and the relationship between me and my friends. By the time we get here, we’re already a family, so it’s not just Arctic Monkeys. I may not have explained it well.

The band has a series of upcoming tours, but the Japanese fans have been waiting for the show in Japan for a long time!

I definitely want to go, because I feel like I haven’t been to Japan for a very long time. When was the last time I went there? I can’t even remember. But I definitely want to go this time. I'm planning for that now.

#interview #transtlation #arctic monkeys #alex turner #the car era #rockin' on 2022 #it's basically translated by deepl and i just made a few modifications to make it more smooth #so the full text won't be 100% accurate and please feel free to correct it if you guys know japanese #all the recent interviews of this era are just so good #here we get more information about that important song that didn't make it into the album #his thoughts about the relationship between lyrics and vocals and the idea of band appearing and disappearing are also interesting to read #and about the last part... where is the asian tour announcement then?

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spotsupstuff · 9 months

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HOW are you so good at finding voice claims..give me ur power

JLKSDJSKLGJKCMK I LISTEN TO SHIT TON OF MUSIC I SUPPOSE? the more varied the better! from all over the world and as far into the years as possible and then the usual stuff like watching some videos, remembering shows that i used to like...

the Main thing i try to do when looking for voice claims is have an idea of what the characters main theme is. Disdain is an interesting case cuz i've gone thru three voices for her before settling on The One!

the key ideas with Disdain are: ghosts, england, tragedy, drowned victim, that specific ghostly blue/green which all come originally from This one. the song came first, character later

made Disdain a design and listened to this song while intensely looking at her face. figured out that this voice is too soft and too... royal, i suppose

so i focused at the song itself. it carries the specific Disdain™ vibes that i wish to respect and heed. the song is the foundation so i went on spotify and looked through the different covers of it. the Second version i landed on was this one

not bad but mmm.... lets look through some more versions. so i came to the Acapella Onion one

it was a comparison game between the two for a bit, staring into Disdain's face for like ten more minutes and then went with the Onion one because i like that it's more Brisk. a part of Disdain's thing is that she is very decisive. she wants Yes or No to her yes or no questions, she rarely uses words like "maybe" or "probably". when she Says something, she says it with Conviction. it's like a verbal karate chop to the throat. a karate chop is a fast, brisk thing, so the Onion version fits much better because of that

another reason why it's better is that it's less fancy, it's just voice and white noise, the way of speaking is more stripped/direct. interesting thing about Disdain's clothes design is that it's rather simple- her dress looks like a peasant one rather than something more worthy for a God. googling "england folk dress", you're gonna see some detailed glorious things, i could've taken inspiration There, but chose not to

so my voice claim choosing includes consideration of the personality, main theme of the design/character's story and the finalized design itself

i showed this new voice claim vid to my partner Just Now basically and he told me "you know, i feel like i would accept any voice that you would put on them" and like yeah, voice claims aren't really much of a rigid thing, you can be rather free with them. whether they fit to the character's face or not is a -so so gesture- way of going about it

so i quickly put together Zephyr's old (MALINDA) and updated (Zdenka Tichotová) voice claim

said he liked the old claim better! the thing is though that he doesn't really know Zephyr as a person

Zephyr didn't originate from a song like Disdain did. Zephyr originated from a historical religiously important person and bravery itself. she has a freer range of places to choose from compared to Disdain's tunnel vision of My Jolly Sailor Bold covers

originally i chose Malinda because Zephyr is supposed to be a mix of French and Irish inspired and the singer covers and knows a lot about Irish tunes. the protion of song chosen Feels like freedom, from singing in Irish to just belting out a single tone straight from the heart. it sounds like defiance. that's what Zephyr is about

the thing is that i listened to some more Malinda stuff later, trying to imagine Zephyr singing it and well... Malinda is originally an American person. the curse of successful Americans rears its head again in the form of superficiality/faked Booming emotions and annoying pride (not sayin that every American has this but... the successful ones especially are so so likely to fall to it) and my Gods Zephyr can't have something like that stapled to her. she's supposed to be genuine and simple

so i went searching for something that is more anchored in humanity/the earth. when i want something like That i usually head either to my childhood or my czechoslovak spotify playlist jgslkgjklsd

Zdenka Tichotová has worked with Nedvedovci in folk-gospel band Spirituál Kvintent in the 70s and 80s. Nedvedovci often sung and wrote songs mourning not enough love in the world. or about freedom of the people here back when we had Lords here but also for example about freedom from the censorship of the Soviets. they are incredibly grounded and covered in the humane and miss Tichotová was bound to follow along with them

THAT's what i wanted for Zephyr more than anything. the fact that one could argue miss Tichotová's voice is "imperfect", not smooth, has traces of age in it makes it *even* better. because it sounds genuine. it's not some studio's idea of mechanical perfect, the One Good Take that then goes through editing and autotune and what not, it's Real and Honest

so that is also what i consider when choosing voice claims for my guys- some history of the voice, what the character symbolizes...

hope this helps at least a lil!!!

#spot says stuff #oc tag #sorry that its so long i could talk about this kind of stuff for ages i think glkdsgjksldcmlk #step one is going out there and really listening to things ofc but for the choosing its a whole Process #i have. 32 playlists and almost 4k songs liked on spotify and on utube my favorites hold over 4200 songs... i Fucking Listen To Music™

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floralcrematorium · 8 months

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Your idea about this new hetalia week sounds great! Can you tell us more?

Sure! Thanks for the ask! Prepare for rambling

For people seeing this without context, here's a link to my poll with the interest check: hyperlink

I'm thinking about calling it Hetalia Jukebox Week or something. That's my working title for now until/unless I think of something better.

I came up with the idea last night when I realized just how much music makes me Think. I have a WIP NA Bros fic about an event from my personal life I remembered after listening to Mitski's "Brand New City." In a way my Migraines in Margaritaville AU is inspired by "Margaritaville" (though it's more like a pipeline. Margaritaville song -> Margaritaville restaurants -> Ted & Eddy Margaritaville videos -> my NA Bros Margaritaville fic). Hell, just last night I was thinking about how a lyric from a Fall Out Boy song makes me want to write about a messy divorce/infidelity using the line "Does your husband know the way that the sunshine gleams from your wedding band?"

I'm thinking of hosting it in January. I don't want to overlap with anyone else's event so right now I'm thinking of hosting it January 21st-27th or February 18-24th (the latter date isn't ideal though because there are events during the two prior weeks and I don't want anyone to become stressed with all of the events they want to partake in).

Giving us until the end of January also gives time for us to vote on the prompts.

The timeline I'm thinking about is the following:

• I pull together all of the details by the end of this week (10/14) • I set up the event account @hws-jukebox-week with all of the information, rules, and we start doing polls • Poll #1: Lyric submissions (~10/28-11/10) • Poll #2: Prompt voting (~11/12-11/26) • Prompt list is posted ideally on December 1st • Event starts January 21, ends January 28 • I will be reblogging work as I see it during the week and up to two weeks after the end!

I'm thinking that with the prompts, there's 3 options per day. There'll be a general theme connecting them so if people want to use more than one prompt to inspire their work, they can! There's also hyperlinks to the song for each lyric. Here's two examples I've just slapped together:

Day 1 | January 21 (Attraction)

• "Does your husband know the way the sunshine gleams from your wedding band?"

• "I'm gonna show you how this Italian amor"

• "Say my name and his in the same breath, I dare you to say they taste the same"

Day 2 | January 22 (Empowerment)

• "I was born into this, Won't hesitate to use my fists"

• "I made my goddamn self, a product of my own design"

• "Trying to recognize myself when I feel I've been replaced"

I'll make google forms as appropriate, but the initial one will be a form for people to submit the specific lyric they want chosen, give me the song, artist, and a link to a youtube video for the song. Might also be a good idea for what theme you consider the song to be. Maybe when it comes to lyrics submissions, I'll have some themes that you need to provide songs for? Not sure about that yet.

People can use the lyrics as lines in their work, as the title, or just an outline for what happens! It'd also be really cool to see how people transform music into a visual work

What do we think? Some community feedback would be great!

#hetalia jukebox week 2023 #hetalia #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia event #hetalia fanart #hws #aph

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arcielee · 1 year

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Interview With a Writer

Thank you so much @inthedayswhenlandswerefew for allowing me to pick your brain again, and giving us a glimpse into your process for your amazing stories. 💜

This series is near and dear to my heart, completely self-indulgent, but I am glad others are enjoying it too. You can look over the masterlist to see the other amazing authors I have spoken with; this series is just a BTS of some of the talented minds on Tumblr and ao3.

Name: inthedayswhenlandswerefew

Story: Now I’m Covered in You

Paring: HotD/War of the Roses AU Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Rating/Warning: Language, sexual content (18+), dubious consent, miscarriage, pregnancy, childbirth, violence, warfare, murder, alcoholism, sexism, infidelity, illness, death, only vaguely historically accurate, lots of horses!

Where did the plot for Now I’m Covered in You come from? I’ve always, always, always loved British history. I’ve read countless books (mostly nonfiction, some fiction) about it and when I studied abroad in college, out of a hundred possible locations I chose to go to the United Kingdom. London is still my favorite place on Earth and I would love to live there someday. It’s truly where I feel like I belong. NICIY is definitely inspired by my love of British history (especially Renaissance-era) as well as two phenomenal television series: The Tudors and The White Queen.

I had the idea for NICIY but was still warring with it—I desperately wanted it to just go away so my life could be nice and simple, haha!—when I was driving to work listening to my Spotify playlist. I have a long commute, about 40 minutes, so I listen to a LOT of Spotify. And Taylor Swift’s song Ivy came on and I was like…about to drive off the road it hit me so hard. It struck every chord of this story and made it louder, unignorable. The forbidden pining. The wintery, mournful, timeless quality. The idea of someone growing over you and through you, like ivy, and turning you into a whole new version of yourself. And ivy (the plant) is indomitable, it’s very difficult to get rid of and it ends up destroying a lot of other foliage. The love that Aemond and Ivy share is like that, but Ivy herself is too. She’s adaptive, resilient, and…under the right circumstances…a bit ruthless. She was always going to survive. What is your planning process? How do you know the steps that need to unfold? I really adore foreshadowing. But I have to be careful because there are a few people (like @aemcndtargaryen) who have this superpower where they seem to be able to latch onto EVERY little hint. So I'm always working on perfecting that balance between foreshadowing and being the right amount of mysterious!

My planning process always starts with a chapter list. For each chapter—starting with the last few and then looping back to the first one—I give it a name and a few key words to remind myself of which major events go where. Then as phrases, scenes, and conversations occur to me, I write them non-chronologically.

For example, one of the first parts of NICIY that I wrote was the miscarriage in Chapter 3 and the disjointed exchanges between Aemond and Ivy as she’s floating in and out of consciousness. I fill in the gaps when it’s time to publish each chapter. I think this helps me maintain a consistent thread of foreshadowing that runs throughout the story because when there’s a certain metaphor or phrase that I like, I’ll go ahead and drop it into every chapter where I think it’ll end up fitting, and then tweak it later if necessary.

But honestly, there are a lot of aspects of writing that I still can’t really explain. Sometimes a phrase will pop into my head and I’m thinking “what??” and then, weeks later, I finally see how it fits in the design. It’s all rather mystical in a neat sort of way. Explain your interpretation of Aemond. What drives him? Why is he the way he is in NICIY? NICIY Aemond is, to me, a mirror image of canon Aemond and also the version of Aemond that appeared in my first HOTD fic, Have You No Idea That You’re In Deep?

He’s a bit more sensitive, reserved, emotionally intelligent, merciful, and of course poetic. Sir Criston tells Ivy in Chapter 9 that Aemond had changed for the better since she arrived in England, and that is what allows him and Ivy to get their happy ending. NICIY Aemond is affected by his past, but he’s not ruled by it. He is ultimately motivated by the future—by the possibility of having a family with Ivy, and the need for England to be stable in order for that to happen—rather than retribution for past wrongs. So he tends to be less reckless and more forgiving. He does lose his temper at times, he’s still human (and watching your brother be married to the woman you love is stressful), but he tends to be able to move past that wrath quickly and shift to something more productive, for example strategizing or comforting.

However, it must be said: Aemond is rather unhinged when it comes to Ivy, like he behaves in a way that is borderline obsessive. I think that’s a natural consequence of someone who does not connect with 99% of humans finally feeling like he’s found a perfect match that he never believed would exist. But Aemond cares greatly for Ivy’s wellbeing and respects her autonomy/preferences, so it’s a partnership that works.

Was his poem to Ivy a Maggie original? So my main writing medium is fiction, but I do occasionally write poems. I don’t feel especially comfortable with poetry but every once in a while the inspiration strikes and I’ll write like five in a week, and then none for months at a time. They usually fit with one of my stories rather than as standalone pieces, for example the way that “Ivy” only occurred to me because it was an aspect of NICIY. It’s an unapologetically deranged poem, especially in the way that Aemond uses it—he confesses love that he can’t bear to express out loud and then runs away to hide in the chapel—but the sentiment is heartwarming, I think.

What was the inspiration for Ivy? I spent a lot of time thinking about the values that were instilled in royal women of this time period (1400s) and how different personalities would cope with those pressures. Ivy is (generally) a dutiful wife and does genuinely want to be the mother of a large family, but she’s also more scrappy than a typical princess. I think this has a lot to do with her upbringing.

Ivy is from Navarre, which was a relatively small and undistinguished kingdom, and we have hints that her family life was a lot less stifling and formal than Nico’s, Kunigunde’s, or Alicent’s. She did a lot of rough-and-tumble activities like sparring and horseback riding, and seems to have genuinely warm relationships with her parents and siblings (Alonzo!!! 😍). She has an innate willfulness and ferocity that Aemond is mesmerized by.

He was instantly attracted to her when she arrived in London—hence being too shy to interact with her—and then when he saw how bravely she handled challenges (Aegon, Daemon, the miscarriages, court gossip) he fell absolutely madly in love with her. Aemond values nothing more than strength in the face of adversity, and he desired AND respected Ivy in a way that transcended anything he’d felt before.

Aemond and Ivy’s first interaction in Chapter 1 is this odd moment because for Ivy, it seems random and confusing (although welcomed), but for Aemond it’s this culmination of a year of all-consuming clandestine longing. Aemond finally talking to Ivy is sort of by chance—he runs into her and is caught off-guard, therefore he hesitates too long to excuse himself gracefully—but he’s also pushed into it by how much she’s suffered in England up until that point. He genuinely feels tremendously sorry for her and feels that she deserves better…and he also feels a drive to protect her from further harm. Aemond wants Ivy to be happy, and that eventually overpowers his paralyzing shyness.

Why do you feel Ivy complements Aemond well? Ivy and Aemond complement each other wonderfully. She is amazed by him—his competence, his beauty—and gives him the tender, protective, unconditional sort of love that he has always craved. Ivy is also not disturbed by Aemond’s disfigurement and has difficulty understanding why Miss Kuni has such trepidation about it in Chapter 6. Ivy can understand the trauma that Aemond carries because she has suffered similarly—in both her miscarriages and in her marriage to Aegon—but she does not consider him limited by it.

They are equally dutiful yet passionate, and have the capacity to be both extraordinarily gentle and selectively ruthless. They are a bit of a power couple, and accomplish more together than either could separately.

What was the inspiration for the character creation of Kunigunde? Kunigunde—who I always refer to fondly as Miss Kuni, it’s cute but also proper in a way that I think suits her—is the perfect Renaissance-era princess.

She’s wealthy, she’s honorable, she’s loyal, she’s beautiful, she’s clever, she’s sporty, she’s confident, she’s all the Spice Girls rolled into one. But Aemond feels absolutely nothing for her. This is a manifestation of the fact that Aemond is truly changed by Ivy at this point, and that she has covered him; the old Aemond never would have dreaded a match that was THIS advantageous to the Greens, nor spurned a bride that is supposedly everything he’s always wanted.

Furthermore, Aemond’s prior sexual experiences (with the exception of Ivy and the Bearskin Rug Incident™️) were not what we would consider to be consensual, and the trauma that he carries from that adds another layer to his inability to be intimate with Miss Kuni, someone that he not only doesn’t have feelings for, but also cannot touch without feeling that he’s betraying Ivy.

Miss Kuni does her absolute best in a terrible situation and demonstrates steadfast loyalty to Aemond and the Greens. This is in part because honor demands it, but it’s also because her upbringing was very different from Ivy’s.

Kunigunde grew up in a very formal court, and her family was not as warm as Ivy’s; Miss Kuni mentions in Chapter 7 that her family would blame her if her marriage failed, a stark contrast to how Ivy’s family has already plotted to bring her back home after feeling that Aegon wronged her.

Miss Kuni confronting Daemon also illustrates just how cemented her traditional beliefs are—women aren’t combatants, princesses can’t be harmed—and it ultimately dooms her. But that sacrifice paves the way not only for the Greens’ military victory near Castle Rising, but also the Holy Roman Emperor taking Rhaenyra’s youngest children hostage as revenge for his daughter’s murder, which helps to neutralize Rhaenyra as a threat once the war is over.

Were there any other characters in your story that you enjoyed writing? I always adore writing Aegon. In every fandom, there are a few characters whose voices are so clear and so impactful in my head that their lines just feel like they write themselves. Aegon is like that for me. He is damaging without being malicious, pathetic and yet unpredictably heroic at times, weirdly insightful but also a dumb babygirl. I just love, love, love writing him. Especially since the Aegon who exists to me is Tom Glynn-Carney’s more nuanced and sympathetic interpretation, not the HOTD show canon version.

I also really enjoyed writing Nico. She is light and bubbly and enthusiastic and innocent, and compulsively honest in a way that is cringey for the royal family but hilarious to us readers. She adds some much-needed levity to an, at times, deeply tragic story. She’s also brave in a way that is sometimes unwise and childlike, which is consistent with her personality.

Lastly: Alonzo, as one wise anon message said, is a vibe.

So, I have to ask, you were “retired” but... Does this mean my “retirement” is over? Well…at the moment…yes. 😂

I’m a lot more open to new fic ideas now because I’ve learned how impossible it is to predict when inspiration will strike, and I’ve also gained the perspective of what a loss it would have been if I’d never written NICIY.

I think I’ve accepted that fics are likely just a part of my mental landscape and will be indefinitely. For example, after I finished up NICIY two weeks ago, I immediately dove back into my novel, write 20 pages…and then was assailed by a new fic idea! Of course I tried to ignore it, but as we have all learned, I am not very good at that.

So a new HOTD fic is on the way! You will know more about that soon…very soon…very very soon… 👀

#interview with a writer #iwaw11 #bts #of their brilliant writing #aemond targaryen fanfic #don't mind her emoji use

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herrlindemann · 2 years

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LEGACY - October 2005, Interview with Oliver

'Rosenrot' is the name of RAMMSTEIN's latest work, which will be released exactly four days after this issue of Legacy on October 28th. A top placement in the charts shouldn't be taken away from this album. Everything the band has touched has turned to proverbial gold. Where is it going, the motor ship RAMMSTEIN, in 2005? The predecessor 'Reise, Reise' was just under a year ago and questions were allowed to be asked.

After the music journalists present were allowed to listen to the album twice in the morning, everyone later turned up for their interview. I met bassist Oliver Riedel for an intimate meeting in private. I hope I do not disturb you? “No, everything is fine.” Already a year ago I heard - at least that's what I think - one or the other song here, which didn't make it on 'Reise, Reise' at the time. The most urgent question first: How much of 'Rosenrot' was there at the time 'Reise, Reise'? “For 'Reise, Reise' we recorded 18 songs. A total of seven songs remained, and we quickly came up with the idea of making another album next year. But seven songs is a little bit for an album! In any case, the tour plan was already in place at that time and so the idea came up that we could write four more songs in the intervening, counter-free time. It ended up being quite difficult. Really new are 'Benzin', 'Mann gegen Mann', 'Spring' and 'Te Quiero Puta'.” Oh, the Spanish song is new? I thought this one in particular was left over from the last recordings in Spain. “No, that has to do with Till's interest in Latin America. He's in Costa Rica a lot and always annoys us backstage before the concerts with his Mariachi songs. Of course, it made sense that we would also write a Spanish song at some point.” Especially in this song I find the female singing successful. This is how witches should sound! “We said to the record company: We need a deep and smoky female voice. A bit 'slutty'. Suddenly a lady from South America was sitting in our producer's studio, singing her part and then she was gone again.”

All of the songs on 'Rosenrot' seem to take a step back compared to those on the predecessor. “Most of the songs that we don't release on 'Reise, Reise' are definitely quieter ones. ‘Reise, Reise’ had to be powerful for us! The idea then was to make the new album quieter overall.” Is it the calm before the storm? Is the MS RAMMSTEIN stranded, as one might assume from the new cover, or is she on her way to new shores under full steam? “Actually, the album should be called 'Reise, Reise Vol. 2'. We quickly forgot about that title. Since we see the new album as an independent one, we needed a new title. That was a bit unfortunate, since the cover was already finished. So the ship on the cover picture is now called 'Rosenrot' and everyone can think about what it stands for. Opposites? The cold world? Where has the love gone? No idea. But the ship does not symbolize the now and us as a band.” So on the one hand both albums belong together, on the other hand they don't? "Exactly. At the moment we are not planning an actual tour with our own stage design for 'Rosenrot' or anything like that. That will certainly change again in the distant future.”

Already with the last album I noticed that everyone can now show what a good musician they are. In addition, the band itself seems more relaxed to me. “In the end we were bored at times by the old and traditional Rammstein sound. Sequencer is running, drums play 'uff uff uff', guitar and bass play the same thing too. We didn't want to do that kind of groove anymore. It is also clear that the drums are looking for new rhythms. Our real strength is certainly the 'march', but you should always do what you feel like doing. Then you are authentic.” But you obviously have more fun together than when you were doing 'Mutter’, right? “Absolutely! 'Mutter’ was our darkest chapter. After a long time of touring we were at our limits, there was a real imbalance in the band. For example, it's nice now that Richard can make his solo record. There he can express himself musically in a way that he would never be able to within the band.” Was the band ever near the end? “No, it was only briefly put on hold. However, we quickly became aware of what we had already achieved and how the band can be missed.” Like in a marriage? "Somehow. But in a marriage, it's rare to just take a break. The positions are probably a bit harder.” How often do you bother? “If the points of contact allow it. Paul and I have children of the same age - that's where you meet. During rehearsals we see each other every day, on tour sometimes only in the evening and Richard is in New York right now — that's why you don't see him at the moment.” So more like a meeting in the living room. You come and go and if someone is there, then you are happy. "Exactly.”

'Benzin', the first single with a brutal video, fits like a glove to the current oil crisis. But it could also be a biker song. What does ‘benzin’ stand for exactly? “This is certainly a multiple topic. But fire is actually a part of our band history. It has been with us the whole time. Paul just went to Till and said 'petrol' would be a cool word. Can't you write a text about it? And that's exactly what Till came up with when he heard this word.”

'Mann Gegen Mann’ apparently has a same-sex background. It should be great when thousands of metalheads sing this song together at concerts. Because actually, in the metal scene in particular, prejudices are extensively cultivated. So why this topic? Is it just about the taboo or breaking it? “We don't want to discriminate against gays. The song is more for gays. We simply wanted to take the weight off the topic and make it more natural.” What should the fan take away from this song? “A normal understanding of the other.”

For example, the lyrics to 'Ein Lied' would force me to write a proper rock number. Then this piece turned out to be extremely quiet, with a nasty kid melody. How did music and lyrics come together here? “The lyrics are always hanging on the wall in the rehearsal room or studio and 'Ein Lied' was created in just 10 minutes. There was the riff, Till took the lyrics and sang. We recorded the piece and it was done. The text of 'Mann gegen Mann', on the other hand, already existed in the ‘Mutter’ times, for example.”

I could already read it in advance: the Brothers Grimm and Goethe connect in 'Rosenrot'. For me actually - as far as RAMMSTEIN is concerned - it is somehow obvious. “The news naturally wants to give us a level or a depth that we don't actually flirt with. Till has always used this old and romantic form of verse. That's why he doesn't just deal with the Brothers Grimm or Goethe all the time.” Are Till's texts untouchable? “Nothing is untouchable. If someone in our company spends a long time grappling with an issue, they are of course anxious to push it through. But it can also lead to tunnel vision and we only try to correct that a little. A lot of people had to listen to that.”

'Spring' not only has a wall of guitars, but also lyrics dealing with the topic ‘boss’ or 'the mean mob'. Is there a connection to the band? Is the song a criticism of the mob who are on the prowl and treating others unfairly? That's how RAMMSTEIN went before. "Clearly. The mob creates its own creature. He wants to push you in a direction. Therefore you are right.” Looking back, let's take the discussion about your first cover. “We hadn't dealt with this topic before. We were naive. Of course, that was good for us in the end. Otherwise our own aesthetics might not have come about at all. The discussions about Rammstein have never hit the core, but only aimed at the surface.”

'Rosenrot' masterfully knows how to damage surfaces and perhaps also penetrate deeper to the core. The ice has broken and the MS RAMMSTEIN is picking up speed again. Let's wait and see what kind of waters the men will sail into in the future. Perhaps sails will be set, perhaps there will be kerosene propulsion. You can be curious, because this band always causes discussions between love and hate. Where would the (music) world be today without RAMMSTEIN?

#Rammstein #Oliver Riedel #Till Lindemann #Paul Landers #Flake Lorenz #Christoph Schneider #Richard Kruspe #interview #translation #2005 #*scans #*

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