#everyone say thank you Orville peck | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scarabsinthestardust · 13 days ago

Text

The Hurtin' Kind

MASTERLIST

Josh x male OC

I know I should be working on Tender, but I got this silly little idea in my head and couldn't ignore it any longer. And no, I definitely *checks notes* did not model this character after Orville Peck (I just think he's neat, okay??) If anyone's feeling adventurous and wants to write the actual smut for this, you're more than welcome to (we will have a spring wedding). Anyways, enjoy! And thanks for reading.

Listen to the inspiration here

WARNINGS: drinking; some light, general sadness; implications of sex; I dunno, let me know if I missed anything

word count: 1800+

Josh was not having a good day. It had been stressful, to say the least, and quite disastrous. He’d been at the studio all day trying to record music for their newest album, and nothing seemed to be going right. He couldn’t hit the right notes and kept forgetting the lyrics, which then led to insufferable bickering between him and his brothers. He pushed back, blaming it on their inability to play the music they’d all written together, and before long, everyone was so frustrated they couldn’t look at each other. Josh had been fighting off a headache all day and wanted nothing more than to go home and get some much needed sleep, but he was wired from the arguing and he needed to wind down.

On top of it all, and he hated to admit it, he was lonely. He couldn’t pinpoint when or why he started feeling that way, but it had become an ever-present nagging in his gut, like a splinter he couldn’t free from under his skin. He’d always been the happy one, the one who’s constantly smiling and laughing, the one who gets compared to the sun due to his joyous nature. But sometimes it was exhausting. Sometimes he just wanted to abandon the role for someone else to have, to go some place where no one knows his name, where he could wallow in peace.

That’s how he ended up here, in this dimly lit bar on the edge of town, where he almost forgot he was even in the city. He’s seated at a table by himself, nursing a drink and allowing himself to get lost in his own thoughts. He turned his phone off, and he’s sure to have quite a collection of missed calls and text messages from his brothers, but he wasn’t currently concerned about that.

The atmosphere of the place was kind of relaxing. It wasn’t necessarily dingy in any way. In fact, it was sort of homey. Mostly everyone seemed to know each other, exchanging friendly conversations as they sipped their beers. A couple on the opposite side of the room were leaning into each other, lost in their blissful smiles and subtle touches. Some patrons appeared to be in the same kind of mood as Josh, sitting alone, sorrow painted clearly on their faces. The jukebox in the corner was playing a familiar song – Wicked Game. It seemed appropriate for the climate of the bar.

Josh hummed along quietly to the music as he traced a finger through the condensation on his glass, staring down at the chipped varnish on the table. He wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings, and he jumped when a deep voice rang out in front of him.

“Ain’t seen you around here before.”

Josh raised his head, fully intending to ask to be left alone, but things don’t always go as planned. He found himself staring at the handsome stranger, intrigued by the way he carried himself, obviously so confident, with a charming smile on his face. His short, reddish beard was neatly trimmed. He was dressed in a maroon, Western-styled button up, his sleeves rolled up just below his elbows, a pair of dark jeans (that fit him nicely if Josh was being honest), and a black cowboy hat perched atop his head. Josh couldn’t help but notice his tattoos, including the snake wrapped around his right arm, its head resting on the back of his hand. He decided to humor the stranger, oddly curious as to where it might lead.

“Yeah, I’m new to the scene.” Josh smiled sheepishly, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically shy.

“Well, I’d love to be the one to show you around.” His accent was thick; he was probably a Tennessee native or hailed from some other deep southern state. “May I?”

Josh nodded, inviting him to sit. The yellow light above the table didn’t offer much in the way of illumination, but the man’s blue eyes practically sparkled in it regardless.

“I’m curious though, why a sweet thing like you is sittin’ here all by your lonesome.”

Coming from anyone else, his words might have been cringe-inducing, but they had heat rising up in Josh’s cheeks. “Just had a long day. Needed to wind down, ya know.”

The man seemed to contemplate Josh’s words, turning them over in his head like he was trying to decide if it was a lie. “What are you actually runnin’ from, Blue?”

Josh was taken aback by the question and the impromptu nickname. “What makes you think I’m running?”

“Hm.” The man leaned forward, his elbows on the table. He maintained such intense eye contact that had Josh feeling squirmy but was unable to look away. “You’ve got a thunderstorm in you. I can see the lightnin’ in your eyes.”

Josh’s heart was racing, the undeniable fluttering in his stomach getting harder to ignore. How does one even respond to something like that? The man’s presence was powerful, and it seemed to make everything and everyone around them melt away. Just being in close proximity to him was enough for Josh to feel the buzz. He wondered what it would feel like to touch the mysterious man, and Josh definitely wanted more. But overall, he was mostly curious. Something in him knew this wasn’t just a basic interaction with a flirty, and likely tipsy, cowboy. “Who are you?” The raspy sound of his own whisper surprised him.

“Most folks call me Colt, but you can call me whatever you want, sweetness.”

He knew that must be a fake name, but it didn’t matter too much at this point. Josh introduced himself in turn, and mindlessly fiddled with the straw in his drink. He hadn’t come here with the intention of leaving with someone, but he was like an insect caught in a trap. Colt just had to flash a smile and Josh was putty in his hands. “Do you want to get out of here?”

Colt grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”

This was a risk that Josh typically would not have taken. The pair ended up at his house; he knew better than to bring strangers there, but it was too late to change his mind now. He put on a record and offered his newfound companion a drink.

“Thank you, darlin’, but I think we both got something else in mind.”

Josh smiled at the implication, a mischievous glint in his eye. He allowed himself to be drawn in by the taller man, melting under his touch as their lips met. It wasn’t soft or romantic, but hungry and desperate. And it was just what Josh was craving. He practically clawed at Colt, removing pieces of clothing as he reached them. He whined when Colt pulled away and grabbed Josh’s hands to still them.

“Relax, there’s no rush. I promise I’ll take care of you, Baby Blue.”

A thought crossed Josh’s mind and he faltered. “Hey, uh… we should…” Colt waited patiently for the curly-headed man to find his words. He was nothing if not a gentleman. “I’m not really looking for anything serious right now.”

“Is that all?” Colt smiled sweetly and pulled him in for another kiss. “This can be whatever you need it to be. I’m all yours tonight, to use, to lie to. I don’t mind either way. I ain’t really the hurtin’ kind.”

Josh searched the other man’s eyes for something… he didn’t really know what he was looking for. Maybe a sign that this was a mistake, a warning to turn back while he still could. But he found none. And if this did turn out to be a bad idea, he would deal with the consequences later. Right now, though, he needed this. He didn’t speak as he grabbed Colt’s hand and led him upstairs to the bedroom, where they fell into a heated clash of lips and skin, fingernails scratching expanses of flesh as the rest of the world and its worries faded away.

When Josh awoke the next morning, he felt tranquil. He was warm and relaxed, like he’d just gotten the most restful sleep of his life. Memories of the night came flowing back and he realized he was alone, with no sign anyone had ever been there. If it wasn’t for the soreness in his body, a satisfying ache reminiscent of the evening’s activities, he would have thought it was all just a dream. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed to find Colt already gone, but he wasn’t surprised. He never really expected him to stick around, and Josh never asked him to.

Still, the sense of peace that seemed to surround him was euphoric. He was almost afraid it would slip away. It was like a high, the best he’s ever experienced, and it did stick with him long enough for things to get back to normal. Josh fell easily back into his routines, the glumness that had been following him nothing more than a wisp. His patience had returned, along with his determination and love for the music they had worked so hard to create. The band was able to find their footing again and pushed out some gorgeous new songs they were all proud of.

After a while, though, Josh got wild hair. He wanted another fix.

He found himself back at the place where it all started. He sat at the same table in the low light, a drink in hand. Except this time, he knew what he was looking for. He scanned the room for the familiar figure, hoping he’d catch those pretty blue eyes again.

He wasn’t sure how long he waited before he resigned, dismayed that his search yielded no results. But he was never one to give up that easily. On the third night of searching of waiting, the doorman stopped him on his way out.

“You’re lookin’ for him, ain’t ya? Colt.”

Josh stared at the man, unsure if he should answer the question. He didn’t want to seem like some creep, stalking a guy he’d spent one night with. He also didn’t want to out himself or spill anything about Colt to someone he didn’t know. One can never be too careful these days. He considered just walking away; he didn’t owe this guy an explanation, after all. But the doorman’s next words stopped Josh in his tracks.

“You won’t find him. No one that’s lookin’ ever does. He’s like a ghost.” He leaned closer to Josh to conceal the conversation from any eavesdroppers. “But don’t worry. He’ll find you. When you really need him, he’ll find you, Blue.”

Josh’s jaw dropped. “What? How did you-“ He was interrupted when a couple greeted the doorman upon entry. He said his ‘good evening’ to them before the bartender waved him over to help with something. He spared one more glance before walking off, leaving Josh standing there, mouth agape and so very confused.

///

@josh-iamyour-mama

TAGLIST

Let me know if you wanted to be added for all works.

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf #gvf fanfiction #josh gvf #josh kiszka

12 notes · View notes

batmanisagatewaydrug · 6 months ago

Text

everyone say thank you to Orville Peck and Allison Russell

#Spotify

38 notes · View notes

eleanorfenyxwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Outta Time

So @littlesmartart and I discovered that we both love Orville Peck, and I decided it might be nice to write Western Cowboy shit that isn't the Brokeback Mountain AU so here's this 😂 Inspired by Orville Peck's song 'Outta Time' from the album Bronco (Jess came up with the plot, I wrote it, and she's drawn art to go along with it for the visual that's directly inspired by the song [and that was all I had in mind for this before she came up with the plot lol]!)

--//--

It was, perhaps, foolishness on Meng Yao’s part to think that Huaisang was telling him nothing but the unvarnished truth when he’d invited him to head out West with him for a luxury vacation, set to last the entirety of their summer break.

“It’ll be like one of those fancy retreats silly rich people go on!” he’d insisted (as if he isn’t mind-bogglingly ridiculous and wealthier than Meng Yao could ever hope of being [considering he’s only just recently been forced to accept he’ll never see a single iota of his father’s support, emotionally or financially]). “Trust me!”

Mistake number 1 had been saying, “Alright A-Sang, I trust you.”

Mistake number 2 : being a man of his word.

Within a month of receiving Huaisang’s invitation, summer arrives with rolling peals of thunder heralding oppressive humidity and swarms of mosquitos. Meng Yao, a man of his word as stated, dutifully packs most of his belongings into a suitcase that weighs far less than the upper limit of the airline’s luggage weight restriction and navigates the pair of them through the airport with minimal stress, mainly thanks to not allowing Huaisang to be in charge of anything at all.

He chats with Huaisang on and off throughout their flight to keep himself distracted from the fact that he’s leaving behind everything he’s ever known to spend three months in the middle of bumfuck nowhere at his only friend’s brother's ranch, which Huaisang had only told him the full truth about yesterday, after it was already far too late to gracefully back out. Meng Yao’s promised luxury vacation destination is apparently in actuality a cattle ranch that Huaisang’s brother apparently runs mostly to keep himself in shape and avoid the stress of city life that had given him a heart attack at the ripe old age of 27 a few years back. (It is, by far, the weirdest ‘so I have this older brother’ story that Meng Yao has ever heard.)

“So this brother of yours –” Meng Yao finally caves and asks about an hour before final descent.

“Uh-huh?”

“He just…up and left New York. For Montana?”

“Yep,” Huaisang pops the ‘p’ and flicks to the next page in his magazine, unbothered, “After his heart attack he said he wanted to see some mountains and get some actual fresh air if he was just going to die soon anyway, it really dramatic and maudlin, which he never is, I was so proud. Only it turns out it was exactly what he needed to not die, so after a while he decided he would just stay out there for good. He bought the house and the land and some horses to give himself something to do besides stare at the sky all day, and then he was still kind of bored so he bought some cattle.”

Naturally. As one does.

“And now he’s…a cattle rancher. From New York City.”

Huaisang laughs and finally looks up from his magazine to smile at Meng Yao like ‘oh you sweet little thing’ in the way Meng Yao kind of hates, but Huaisang does it to everyone so he can’t really take too much offense.

“Yes, Yaoyao, you’ll understand when you meet him! Da-ge’s never really been a city guy, not like us. It suits him much better to be out here, especially since his best friend moved out here to help him out. Xichen-ge treats it like a meditation retreat but with a lot more mucking out stalls. He says even that part’s therapeutic, but I’m just going to take his word on that one, ‘cause ew.”

“Uh-huh.”

Huaisang leaves him to consider just what the hell he’s gotten himself into for the rest of the flight, and then they’re navigating their way (ridiculously easily) through the rinky-dink airport hardly bigger than a parking garage, the sky beyond the terminal windows blue blue blue where it stretches on forever in every direction.

“Da-ge!”

Meng Yao barely manages to snag Huaisang’s duffel when his friend flings it off his shoulder to go sprinting across the 3-carousel baggage claim, the fastest Meng Yao has ever seen him move. It’s a distinct relief that Meng Yao can use juggling their bags as an excuse to approach at a much more respectable pace; he needs the extra time to truly digest what he’s seeing.

Huaisang, as a former-model-turned-fasion-designer who happily calls himself a fruit at every opportunity, is one of the daintiest men Meng Yao has ever met. He’d even go so far as to call him a dandy, if pressed, and fully supports his friend’s decision to call himself every ‘emasculating’ label under the sun with obvious relish. He can’t deny that at least some of his confusion as to his best friend’s mysterious older brother’s chosen lifestyle stemmed from picturing someone like Huaisang, if perhaps a little taller.

He’s not confused anymore.

The man who catches Huaisang midair and swings him in a circle before setting him back on his feet would never be asked to grace the runways of New York — not because he isn’t beautiful enough to make Meng Yao’s fingers twitch for his camera to capture the way the sun cuts across his weather-tanned face, but because no one has ever heard of a fashion model who was roughly 6’7” and perhaps 300 pounds of solid, clearly functional muscle.

Huaisang’s brother towers over everyone else in the building that Meng Yao can see (and he can see most of them, re: rinky-dink airport in the middle of bumfuck Montana), and when he looks over the heads of the few people between Meng Yao and the exit their eyes lock instantly.

“A-Sang, be nicer to your friend,” Meng Yao can hear from here, a bass rumble that Does Things to his chest. “Go get your bag, don’t make your guest carry your shit or he’ll think I never taught you decent manners. Go on.”

Huaisang flutters back over and takes his bag with an unapologetic grin. Meng Yao finishes taking the ten-odd steps necessary for the brother to stick his hand out with a wry little smirk and say, “Hey, I’m Mingjue.”

“Meng Yao,” he replies and slides his hand into Mingjue’s dry, work-calloused palm.

“Welcome to big sky country, A-Yao,” Mingjue replies with a widening smile, a flash of straight white teeth and a dimple hiding under his mustache, and Meng Yao regrets to say that he’s thoroughly fucked.

–//–

The land unfolds around them as they drive down straight roads at an almost leisurely pace through miles and miles of…nothing.

Not nothing, Meng Yao supposes, but long gone are the corridors of towering skyscrapers, the lingering miasma of so many people living together in tight quarters, everyone building up up up to stack ever-more people into the same few square miles. Meng Yao understands, suddenly, why Mingjue had come here and stayed. He doesn’t think he has it in him to eschew all the conveniences of New York City for the open country, but someone like Mingjue seems like the type to appreciate having the space to…expand. To be bigger than life and have the room to do it in. He certainly feels larger than life at the moment as he details for Huaisang all the comings and goings on the ranch since he’d last visited, as he talks about the horses and his cattle and the monsoon rains they’d apparently only just missed that had finally turned everything summer-green.

Meng Yao sits on the bench seat of Mingjue’s beat up old pickup truck and watches the sparse scattering of fluffy white clouds drift over more sky than he’s ever seen in his life and he gets it.

He hasn’t gotten nearly enough of his fill of marveling (subtly) over the view by the time they pull off the road onto a dirt road that Huaisang tells him is actually Mingjue’s driveway, but he contents himself with the knowledge that they’re here for three months, he’ll have plenty of time to appreciate the view later. They rattle over a few metal grates Mingjue explains are cattle guards to keep the animals from escaping the ranch should they manage to break out of their pastures, and Meng Yao isn’t a child so he doesn’t exclaim about how fucking huge the cattle are some distance away from the road where they’re grazing (but he certainly rethinks his half-baked desire to see them up close anytime soon).

“Home sweet home,” Mingjue announces when they reach the end of the lane after another mile or two and opens his door with a creak. Meng Yao leans forward to look up at the house through his lashes and must not be able to control his expression as much as he’d prefer as Huaisang chuckles at him a little, nudging him in the side with his pointy little elbow.

“Told you it was nice,” he chirps and slides across the seat to get out on the driver’s side. “Da-ge be careful!” he trills, his nervous fretting muffled as he scurries around to the bed of the truck. Meng Yao doesn’t pay attention to their bickering or the scuffle of hard-soled boots on dirt, though his attention is snagged at least a bit by the sound of Mingjue laughing at whatever he’s just done to make Huaisang whine at him.

The house is beautiful, is the thing. Somehow he hadn’t thought that it would be, perhaps owing to how many times he’s listened to Huaisang complain about his brother’s lack of taste for anything even remotely fashionable. He should really stop assuming things about Mingjue, he supposes, considering he’s currently scored 0 for 2, and he hates to lose.

He gets out of the car, finally, to better appreciate white-washed wood paneling just beginning to show hints of weathering, blue shutters clearly freshly painted the same shade of the sky overhead with the front door painted to match. There are rocking chairs on the wraparound porch, clearly well-loved if the flattened, sun-faded cushions on them are anything to judge by, positioned to face west. He has a sudden mental image of Mingjue sitting out here in the evenings to watch the sunset over the mountains looming in the distance and has to shake himself all over once (discreetly) to keep from sticking himself in the chair next to him in this little pastoral fantasy. That’s just making it weird.

“You want the grand tour or you wanna settle in?” Mingjue asks; Meng Yao doesn’t jump to find himself standing next to his host he hadn’t heard approaching, but he does feel suddenly…shy in a way he’s definitely not used to. He tilts his head enough to squint up at Mingjue, the sun too bright in his eyes, and finds to his dismay that he’s still just as handsome as he’d been an hour ago.

“I want you to give him the tour!” Huaisang calls from where he’s petting a horse (an actual horse, but are they supposed to be that tall??) that’s come up to the fence at the other end of the front yard, such as it is, to duck down and nose at Huaisang like an old friend.

“I don’t care what you want, you little brat,” Mingjue calls back. “And don’t you dare give that beast whatever candy you’ve got in your pockets, do you know how long it took to train him out of biting people who didn’t give him any after you left?!”

Meng Yao hides a smile behind his hand and finds himself mostly glad that there’s someone else around now to be the recipient of Huaisang’s incessant whining when he’s really putting on a performance. He clears his throat a little and schools his expression back towards pleasant neutrality when Mingjue looks down at him again, clearly unwilling to entertain his brother’s antics a moment longer than necessary.

“I think I’d like to settle in first,” he allows himself to say, and is perhaps mildly startled when Mingjue doesn’t question it, when he simply nods and lets Meng Yao be that tiny bit selfish.

“Come on in then, your room’s upstairs.”

Meng Yao follows Mingjue inside out of the sun and finds himself surrounded by an eclectic mix of antiques and modern minimalism; framed photos and bric-a-brac piled up in out-of-the-way corners of sleek monochrome shelves hemmed in on every side by enormous, dense furniture of the sort that reminds him of a time at least half a century ago, if not longer. The result is antiquated in a charming way with enough touches of modernity that he doesn’t think Mingjue is necessarily out of touch, just pragmatic about his home. If something old will still do, why replace it? It’s a mentality Meng Yao can appreciate, and he finds himself smiling a little again as he trails behind Mingjue up the stairs and down the short hallway to the room in the back corner.

“Here you go,” Mingjue says and slings both Meng Yao’s and Huaisang’s bags off his shoulder, which is precisely when Meng Yao realizes he’d been carrying their luggage in one hand like it weighs nothing. He notices it, allows himself two seconds to admire it, and promptly tucks that little tidbit away for future consideration. Later.

“I’ll be around, just holler if you need anything. I’m sure A-Sang will be in to bother you once he’s finished saying hi to the herd, I’ll let you enjoy the quiet while you’ve got it.”

“Thanks, Mingjue,” Meng Yao says with a smile, and it might be a moment of wishful thinking, or just his imagination, but he swears he sees Mingjue’s gaze drop to his mouth for a beat too long before the man nods and retreats. Meng Yao has no way to know if the flush on the back of Mingjue’s neck is from the sun or, maybe, something else.

–//–

Huaisang does come inside eventually, and though he has his own unpacking to do Meng Yao isn’t surprised at all when his friend comes to his room first to flop onto his bed and promptly make himself at home to start bugging him.

(He wouldn’t want or expect anything different.)

As Meng Yao hangs up shirts and trousers with far more care than they probably need, Huaisang regales him with stories from other trips to the ranch and a quick run-down of the personalities of the horses Mingjue keeps, both his own and some he boards for others who can’t keep their own animals for whatever reason. Meng Yao makes enough leading, noncommittal noises to keep his friend chattering as he settles in, though the chatter becomes decidedly less pleasant as far as background noise goes when Huaisang starts talking about getting Meng Yao to socialize.

Within moments it’s clear he already has a plan on how to do so, because of course he does, and of course it’s some stranger’s houseparty where Meng Yao will know absolutely no one at all.

“Absolutely not, Huaisang,” he says tartly, but of course Huaisang only takes that as an invitation to persuade him.

“This isn’t like parties back home, A-Yao, I promise!” he wheedles. Meng Yao just goes on unpacking his meager belongings into the antique dresser in the corner of his room that holds a window overlooking the equipment-littered space between the back porch and the horse barn, and he very pointedly does not rise to Huaisang’s bait. He’s still not immune to his best friend’s cajoling and they both know it, but he feels the need to deny him a little longer for the sake of his pride, if nothing else.

“Nothing here is like home, Huaisang, your argument is invalid,” he replies blithely and debates the merit of hanging his undershirts in the too-big closet with the rest of his clothes, rather than folding them up into a too-big drawer where they’ll just look sad on their own.

“Okay point taken, but seriously! You’ll have a nice time, it’ll be chill, I swear. Xichen-ge is coming, and he never goes anywhere things will get out of hand!”

A party tempting enough to interest Huaisang is typically guaranteed to be anything but ‘chill’, he doesn’t point out, but…well. Meng Yao had just said it himself — nothing here so far is like what they’ve come from, maybe Huaisang’s different here too. Maybe a party’s really not such a bad idea. And if it is, Mingjue, having already overheard Huaisang mentioning the party on his way past Meng Yao’s room with a load of clean laundry in his arms, has already made it very clear that he’s happy to either loan them his truck for the night or else drive them himself. Considering Meng Yao has no interest in drinking so much he wouldn’t be able to drive (because he, unlike his best friend, is a very functional city gay who can drive, thank you very much) it’s a guaranteed exit strategy, should he feel the need to escape.

Meng Yao ignores Huaisang’s pleading eyes for a few moments longer simply for the fun of it as he slides his undershirts onto clattering plastic hangers, and only smiles once his back is turned as Huaisang shouts his delight when Meng Yao sighs, “Well…I guess I’ve got nowhere better to go.”

–//–

This time, Huaisang did tell him the unvarnished truth.

It’s clear from the moment they pull up in the warm violet twilight that this party is nothing like the ones they frequent back home. It’s in someone’s actual house, for one, which he supposes isn’t too strange when not being hosted in a city made entirely of apartments and highrises, but the house itself is in the middle of a giant patch of…nothing. It’s just a house on a dirt lot full of pickup trucks in various stages of rusting, with lights strung everywhere possible on the wraparound porch (except that it’s not really a porch so much as it is a prefabricated metal roof over part of the patch of dirt and sparse grass ‘yard’). He’s pretty sure he even sees a barn lit up the same way some few hundred feet behind the house, but he can’t get a good look at it from here and decides to put it out of his mind.

“Let me know if you end up needing the truck,” Mingjue says over the sound of twanging guitar coming from someone’s massive speakers as they hop down (well he steps down out of the truck like he’s just crossing a threshold; Meng Yao and Huaisang are too vertically challenged to get down out of the thing without at least a little hop). “I’m gonna head in to grab a beer, you two want anything?”

“We’re good, da-ge!” Huaisang chirps, already eyeing up a cluster of guys all dressed nearly identically in tight jeans and threadbare flannels with the sleeves cut off and the resulting gaping holes fraying artlessly, with the main differentiating factor between them being if they’re wearing cowboy hats or baseball caps. Meng Yao glances between his options — Huaisang’s all-too-familiar thirsting over extremely lackluster men who don’t deserve him and Mingjue’s retreating figure carving a path through the crowd — and decides to take his chances with the latter, though he hangs back a little to give Mingjue space.

The house, when he steps inside, at least smells pretty much like what he’s used to at parties. Too many competing colognes and perfumes, the sticky sweetness of alcohol, and the haze of cigarette smoke are almost comforting like this, even as he promptly gets lost amongst the sprawling, dimly-lit rooms crowded with strangers nursing beers or chatting (read: feeling) each other up in dim corners. He finds a staircase in the middle of the house and uses it to orient himself as he wanders in several clockwise circles until he’s mapped out the living room, the den, the kitchen where he snags a beer from the 6’5” cowboy (he’s assuming he’s a cowboy based on the hat and the whole ‘house party on a farm in Montana’ thing) standing at the keg, the door to the back ‘porch’ that’s about as porch-like as the one out front, and an overcrowded room that seems to serve no purpose but to be a place to play beer pong.

He’s just circled his way back to the front door near the stairs once again when he finds his path blocked by someone turned away from him; someone broad and tall and wearing pale blue, which just seems like a mistake when any moment could end in spilled beer and flustered mopping up with a crumpled handful of napkins, perhaps even the removal of said shirt to get it in the upstairs bathroom sink to soak out the stain before it sets —

Alright so it’s been a while and a man has needs, especially when surrounded by ridiculously tall beefcakes on every side. Sue him.

Rather than spilling his shitty beer on this guy to see if he can get him to take his shirt off, Meng Yao clears his throat and taps the guy on his waist once, just the lightest touch of two fingers to body-warmed cotton, and the guy turns smoothly, an apology already on his lips.

“Oh, excuse me,” he says, hardly audible over the music jangling from the beer pong room. Meng Yao tilts his head back a bit — and then a bit more — to meet the guy’s gaze and he’s startled to find he’s also Asian. It takes him roughly three seconds to put two-and-two together when the guy smiles at him like he knows him and ducks down to talk a little closer. Meng Yao makes a conscious decision to stay very still to let him do it.

“Might you be Meng Yao?” he asks and Meng Yao can only nod dumbly. “Mingjue sent me to find you, would you like to come sit with us? Da-ge’s great for commandeering the couch at these things.”

Sitting down sounds great, Meng Yao thinks, especially when the crowd shifts enough for him to catch sight of the ratty old sofa in the living room to find Mingjue currently occupying it alone, manspread more than far enough to make it clear that no one else is sitting on that couch unless he invites them (and he doesn’t look like he’s in a particularly inviting mood).

“Are you sure?” Meng Yao asks, wary, but the man (who must be Mingjue’s best friend, Xichen) just smiles at him again and tips his head in that direction, gesturing vaguely with one of his bottles of beer as if for emphasis.

“Of course! Come on, you’ve had a long day of traveling and I wanted to apologize for not being able to meet you at the house this afternoon. Just sit with us for a while, we’ll introduce you around later if you want us to.”

Meng Yao finds it a pretty tough proposition to say no to so he just nods again and gestures with his own beer (in a stereotypical red Solo cup he’d been amused to receive) for Xichen to lead the way. It isn’t so far that Meng Yao worries about losing him in the crowd, really, but he doesn’t let that stop him from hooking an index finger through the center back belt loop on Xichen’s skin-tight jeans, ‘just in case’. Xichen simply smiles at him over his shoulder as they pass through the nearly-black front hallway and into the scarcely-brighter living room, red Christmas lights around the ceiling and the overhead bulb in the kitchen through the other doorway the only lighting for the entire room.

“Hey, there you are,” Mingjue says as they approach, and though he swings one knee closer to straight in front of himself to manspread a little less he leaves his arm slung casually along the top of the back cushions, reaching up with his free hand to snag the beer Xichen had brought for him and taking a swig of it as Xichen joins him.

On the opposite end of the couch.

Meng Yao hides behind a sip of his own flat beer quickly warming to room temperature as he contemplates the small (small) space between them and, between one disappointing sip and the next, decides he’s feeling reckless enough after a long day of new things and the freedom of traveling so many miles from home that he’s just going to go for it, and fuck the consequences.

Xichen slings his arm over the rest of the back of the couch, fingertips brushing lightly against Mingjue’s elbow where they overlap. Meng Yao sits down right in between them, settles in, and pointedly ignores the way the tired old couch springs squeak in protest of their combined weight and how he seems to pull the other two in like a magnet. It’s like gravity, centers of balance shifting and leaning inwards into his orbit, the pair of them bracketing him on either side, parentheses made of denim and muscle and smiling mouths that he pretends not to notice creeping closer as they keep finding excuses to lean in closer over the course of the next few minutes, not at all subtle. They drift in, in, in to talk to him over the music until they’re both practically kissing him on the cheeks just to be heard as they chat about nothing much at all.

Meng Yao finishes his beer and lets Xichen take the empty cup from him to set aside, and when he leans back in even closer than a moment before, Meng Yao offers him a coy little smile of the sort that’s weakened tougher men than Xichen seems to be and drops his newly-freed hand on his knee, mirroring the caress on Mingjue’s knee with his free hand on the other side.

It would be more than accurate to say that Xichen melts like butter — melts so obviously, in fact, that Mingjue laughs at him, hides it in Meng Yao’s shoulder, and seems to need no further excuse to just set up camp there so he can start nuzzling the tip of his nose into the crook of Meng Yao’s neck until he’s shivering pleasantly and feeling very much like the cat that got the cream.

Huaisang was right — this has never happened to him in New York, but he’s perfectly happy that it’s happening to him now.

–//–

Nie Huaisang isn’t the type to say ‘I told you so’ in so many words, mostly because he doesn’t actually say what he’s really thinking in the first place.

But if he were the type, he’d be saying it right now to anyone who would listen as he sips at a beer some jumped-up bull rider pressed into his hand with enough flustered used-to-be-definitely-absolutely-straight-but-now-he’s-confused flirting that Huaisang had given him an extra kiss or three to apologize for giving him a little sexuality crisis.

Maybe it’s weird for him to be so pleased to see his brother and his brother’s live-in-something tag teaming Huaisang’s own best friend, but, well. Meng Yao works way too hard for very little in return, and Huaisang thinks he deserves nice things. He’s certainly not immune to the ample charms of his brother’s farmer/rancher neighbors at least for a hazy summer, and he’d known that Meng Yao wouldn’t be able to resist either no matter how many fuck-off-I’m-totally-independent vibes he gives off when they’re back home.

Naturally if Meng Yao weren’t interested in sex Huaisang would leave him alone about it, but since he’s not he’d known perfectly well that there would be no resisting not one but two handsome men who could throw him over their shoulders as easily as they do bales of hay or sheep that need shearing. So, to that effect — the scene in front of him. Huaisang watches just long enough to see Xichen turn Meng Yao’s face to his with a gentle finger under his chin to coax him in for a kiss where they’re snuggled up all three together on the couch and then makes his escape to find his own fun for the night.

It’s already looking like it’s going to be quite the summer, and Huaisang basks in the pleasure of a plan well-executed with no one the wiser.

#the untamed fanfic #3zun #Modern AU #Orville Peck Cinematic Universe #officially the name of this universe (because there will definitely be more) lol #3zun but make them cattle ranchers because why not #Nie Mingjue #Meng Yao #Lan Xichen #Nie Huaisang

89 notes · View notes

faunandfloraas · 4 months ago

Text

put your spotify on repeat playlist on shuffle and post the first five songs that pop up and see which ones your mutuals think best represents you! i was tagged by the lovely ana bobana @wantbytaemin thank youuuuu 😘 (i added lyrics i think fit me because some of these songs are a little obscure)

gasoline by key (haha a shinee first cab off the rank, the universe must know ana tagged me...) lyric that feels me:

"It's not about the trophy, I'm just driving on my own Yells and fouls all around But it's all the same when it goes up in flames"

kadioutou by Toumani Diabaté & Ballaké Sissoko << this a musical piece with no lyrics but maybe string instruments are me? it's somewhat quiet and peaceful but then speeds up and is slightly erratic, too... adhd. i ♥ koras.

connected by bang chan << if you pick this. well.......... i presume you think me.... I shant say it.... lyric that speaks to me:

"Oh, I'm losing it, hey" lmao

come up and see me (make me smile) by steve harley and cockney rebel (i love this song... if you enjoy 70s rock ballads at all) me lyric uhhhh:

"You've done it all You've broken every code And pulled the rebel to the floor"

midnight ride by orville peck and kylie minogue << the part where orvilles talking to kylie toward the end and shes just like ~I love the morning sun~ << me when some guys talking to me and i space out and just start saying shit (bop tho also recommend a listen)

I also tag anyone who wants to do this! just @ me and say i tagged you :) and i think most everyones been tagged already but i'll tag my most belovedest @chanrizard @hanjitonin @comflexing @daylightaftertherain @haenglixie anyway :) obligatory no pressure :)

#the only skz comin up bein connected is killin me a lil bit lmao #now u know i had it on repeat 😯#tag game

10 notes · View notes

megafaunatic · 2 years ago

Text

fer @vinelark tagged me so here are my

5 no skip albums

HARD MODE: NO MOUNTAIN GOATS (JUST ABOUT EVERY MOUNTAIN GOATS ALBUM IS A NO SKIP ALBUM)

💿 you will not die (deluxe version) (2018) by nakhane. nakhane has such a clear, beautiful voice, and their instrumentation is by turns sparse and lush, bright and unsettling. listen to "by the gullet" with good headphones for a really weird and cool binaural intro with the syncopated marimba (?). also i love really deep sounds so when they hit me with the cello AND the fat bass kick drum AND the natural depth of their voice, i am IN IT!!! also i'm a lyrics guy first and foremost and their lyrics are so interesting and beautiful

💿 transangelic exodus (2018) by ezra furman. WHAT'S NOT TO LOVE? incredibly romantic. trans and gay as hell. fucking full of rage. explicitly jewish trans gay angel (i love those). i love a concept album! her scratchy punk vocals combined with fuzzy electric guitars and intense drums kill every time. every time i listen to this album i hear something new

💿 three futures (2017) by torres. ugh torres's voice. UGH THE MUSIC VIDEO FOR THREE FUTURES BY TORRES!!! what can i say i love a melodic low voice over lofi droning. and synths. god i love synths. this whole album is like a thick gauge compression spring: the instrumentation on many songs works on a rapid beat while the vocals are drawn out and almost strained. and then when they synchronize (like in much of "helen in the woods") the tension is released and you feel it in your gut!

💿 ripely pine (2013) by lady lamb. the violin key changes in the crest of "you are the apple" changed my life. next question! ok but actually half of these songs are 5+ minutes long and every one earns it. it's like every song is a little opera. the transition from fairly standard acoustic love song to [REDACTED FOR SPOILERS] in "crane your neck" is SOOOOOO!!! holy fuck!!! it's so hot when women yell

💿 pony (2019) by orville peck. ok well first of all more musicians should make it so clear that their persona as a musician is a character they're playing and not a 1:1 reflection of who they are in real life. second of all have i mentioned that i love low voices singing beautifully? men are so scared to sing beautifully. it's a wasteland out there. it's like orville peck and fucking. michael bublé holding down the fort. anyway every song on this album is so fucking fun and boppy, i love a steel guitar. really good album for walking to work to (beat of most songs is comparable to walking speed) and singing really loud. thank you orville peck for saving country!

thank you for tuning into lore's music hour! everyone go listen to all 5 albums! you're welcome!

i tag @houtaroo @whatisthiswitchcraft @uhuraisgay @rose-indigo-and-tom AND @sleepnoises

#u DONT have to provide any commentary. i did that for me #ask meme

114 notes · View notes

catboygirljoker · 1 month ago

Note

i would like the luxucore songs

Allow me to offer Cop Car by mitski, startling from iron maiden, starlight by avantasia, sex on the ceiling, Arrow in the Wall, and I'm Your Treasure Box by marine/toby fox for other xigbar/luxu songs

the last one's a joke but also not really

A FEW SONGS FROM MY LUXUCORE PLAYLIST (non-comprehensive):

America, George Martin - "A Horse with No Name" only when i'm alone and separate from the world can i remember my identity and the world that's been swept away

Depeche Mode - "Personal Jesus" i am a religious figure and i will make myself very useful to you, just gimme a call whenever you need me /horny /not entirely good intentions [yes im aware depeche mode thinks this song is straightforwardly wholesome but. have you listened to it. theyre wrong]

100 gecs - "The Most Wanted Person in the United States" lmao i just killed that guy. everyone hates me and they kinda have good reason to. does it even matter. wooooooo!

Orville Peck - "No Glory in the West" fuck man you go through life and it sucks and its hard and you try to figure it all out and what do you get but dirt and sand

The Bravery - "The Spectator" "leave only footprints, take only memories" is a philosophy that can apply to existence, too

as for your songs:

COP CAR LUXU COMIC MY BELOVED. that ones already on the playlist <3 <3 <3 not sayin more about this bc the comic is sufficient to explain why this works for him lol

whatever the second track is on your list i dont think i was able to find it, sorry ;-; id be happy to give it a listen if you can clarify :]

"Starlight" REALLY works for me as a luxu song. i like thinking about why luxu would use space magic—since he clearly uses it before he's a Nobody, and i think you can just, study and use a kind of magic if you wanna—and i especially like thinking about him having an affinity for space that comes from being so isolated by his Whole Deal. many nights spent alone looking up at the stars, all those worlds, wishing for some guidance on this path hes been made to walk....

...im gonna go ahead and say "Sex on the Ceiling" is self-explanatory. yeah he can just do that. literally and metaphorically. really enjoying the vocals on this one, very sexy song. this one is also going on the luxucore playlist tee hee

"An Arrow in the Wall" i definitely understand on vibes. the song feels like theres Something Coming, a reckoning, apocalypse perhaps. with luxu, like, hes been around for a Really Long Time, anticipating the return of his master, and is finally about to see that come to fruition. but thats not a good thing. whatever's in that box, the direct parallels to pandora's box, luxu's shocked and horrified reaction to learning what's inside...none of that can mean good things! much too think about. i like this one, i like this kind of moody electronic indie stuff

id totally forgotten about "I'm Your Treasure Box" thank you for reminding me of it again lmao. toby fox is such a good producer. is this a joke about the eyepatch

#asks #kh #music

5 notes · View notes

chronotopes · 7 months ago

Text

tagged by @eiqhties in a Song Meme Which Is About Songs :) thank you!

“Name 4 songs that you consider YOURS. Songs that no one else understands like you. Songs that they can try to pry from your cold dead hands.”

i don't like making prescriptive statements like that but here are four songs that i heard and went AUGHHHH and then never stopped going aughhhhh. oversharing to follow under the cut.

"city of gold," orville peck. on the list of Songs I Can Only Listen To Sometimes. in the summer of 2022 i would just drive around my hometown and listen to this one repeatedly hoping that it would cast a spell that only worked for a very little while. lol. that entire album came out as i was graduating college and had a lot of Things I Needed on it – this one is tied with "curse of the blackened eye" in some ways but this one is ultimately the heavier hitter.

"give it time," sierra ferrell. you know how sometimes you have to see a song live for it to hit properly? this is one example. outside, a hot day in early summer. sierra ferrell was like, "you think that you still need me? give it time," and i was like oooohhhhhhh. you give it time. (easy thing to say for someone who has given it time.) Seeing Sierra Ferrell Live is a very important accidental tradition for me and jenny, my second concert ever (as ever, not counting symphony orchestras and 2016s Accidental Julien Baker Live Performance), and also notably the thing i did on the one year anniversary of my friends death which felt like an important symbolic act for me.

"against pollution," the mountain goats. the previous two tie into very specific losses for me but this one is just the ultimate Feeling Things song for me. i played it for jenny for the first time on a night when we were driving around the rural areas surrounding our college town and feeling #unwell for interpersonal reasons but that song transcends every personal crisis and is about... i don't know, it's about a lot of things. it's about how when the last days come we shall see visions more vivid than sunsets brighter than stars we will recognize each other and see ourselves for the first time the way we really are. it's a threat and a promise. it's the best song in the whole world maybe.

last night, the lostines. "You are made of earth and wood / I love you all night if I could / When I lay down to fall asleep / I hope to see you in my dreams." Ending this list on a positive and also on a group i think everyone who likes dreamy folk music even some of the time should listen to (debut album out friday after next!!!) the lostines have several songs that are So About Me And Jenny It's Kind Of Crazy To Me but this song in particular was the first out of that series. every time i listen to it i still think about the same night of my life and (not to be a romantic on tumblr.com at age 24) i really think i will forever. i saw this song live and drunkcried about it. perfect song.

as before, tagging any mutuals who feel that this one calls to them

#sorry gang it's been a very unusually emotionally intimate night on chronotopes.tumblr.com #information about myself #words!

7 notes · View notes

dontbotherwiththepronunciation · 1 year ago

Text

Theon survey songs + links:

@feed-me-a-penny and @team-mom-wannabe In case you still want to see the songs that have been submitted until now.

I found an acoustic version of the song Worms by Lolly Jane Blue on a Theon fan mix once and then lyrics really latched onto my Throne synapses! Very ADWD chapters, I think

The Lighthouse by Halsey; What the Water Gave Me by Florence; Piledriver Waltz by Arctic Monkeys; Ship to Wreck by Florence; Stone by Jaymes Young; Let Me Drown by Orville Peck; Atlantis by Seafret; Wade in the Water by Eva Cassidy; I Don't Want to Talk About Me by Stereo Jane; Sail Away Sweet Sister by Queen; and honestly every song on Everything Ends by Materia.

SOOO many. Ooohhh boy, I hope you like long answers, because you are going to hate me if you don't (you probably already do, I cannot shut up if I'm under the guise of anonymity lol). In terms of poetry, I will forever love this quote by Jenny Holzer: "In a dream you saw a way to survive and you were full of joy". It's so Theon, and I actually have it tattooed on me lol. Social Skills training is also a great poem for Theon ([PRIVATE INFORMATION]... hits so hard for so many reasons when paralleling w Theon), here are some raw verses: "Gloria Steinem says women lose power as they age and yet the loudest voice in my head is my mother. Studies show that the mother we have in mind isn't the mother that exists. Mine says: what the fuck are you crying for? / Studies show the baby monkey will pick the fake monkey with fake fur over the furless wire monkey with milk, without contest. Studies show to negate something is to think it anyway. I'm not sad. I'm not sad. / History is a kind of study. History says we forgave the executioner. Before we mopped the blood, we asked: Lord Judge, have I executed well? Studies suggest yes. What the fuck are you crying for, officer? The wire mother teaches me to say, while studies suggest, Solmaz, have you thanked your executioner today?" Just literally everything about that poem hits me right in the Theon feels. Like, are you kidding me? Then The House That Dripped Blood by Mountain Goats is great for imagining Theon circa his Prince in Winterfell era. The lyrics are all about a house haunted by the pain trapped in there, which seems perfect for Winterfell imo. Any Florence + The Machine, but Heavy In Your Arms for painful throbb feels. Would by Alice in Chains has the right mood and great lyricism for Theon/Reek angst too! Then Everyone's Victim by Lisa Germano just has the right mood I feel for thramsay stuff, same vein as Would by Alice in Chains.

pearl diver by mitski, he doesn’t know why by the fleet foxes, cocaine and abel by amigo the devil

So many, a bunch of guns n roses songs, and dead hearts by stars

Dio Ed Io by Charles Wright, there are more but I'm all burnt out typing AHHH!!!

Cry for Judas the mountain goats "long black night/morning frost/I'm still here/ but all is lost" There is a light that never goes out The smiths. Robb and Theon vibes "to die by your side/ is such a heavenly way to die"

“archers never made good kings, fly headfirst into everything” -archers, the ballroom thieves

Almost Human (Aurelio Voltaire) for the Lucifer association

Putting the dog to sleep by the antlers!

call them brothers - regina spektor (that’s it, it’s split, it won’t recover just frame the halves and call them brothers find your fathers and your mothers if you remember who they are over and over they call us their friends can’t we find something else to pretend? like nobody won and we’re safe at the end) that’s okay - the hush sound (you were a child who was made of glass you carried a black heart passed down from your dad if somebody loved you they’d tell you by now we all turn away when you’re down you want to go back to where you felt safe to hear your brother’s laughter, see your mother’s face your childhood home is just powder-white bones and you’ll never find your way back) house of wolves - my chemical romance (well, i think i’m gonna burn in hell everybody burn the house right down and say what i want to say tell me i’m an angel / take this to my grave tell me i’m a bad man / kick me like a stray) mama - my chemical romance (well mother, what the war did to my legs and to my tongue you should have raised a baby girl i should have been a better son if you can coddle the infection they can amputate at once i should have been - i should have been a better son) JUDAS - the reverent marigold (god knew his face and held it but it still didn’t save him and i see far horizons where the lambs lie with the lions but there are poppies growing over where my friends are lying and paul had an old name, but we never use it you may call me traitor but my lover calls me judas)

i have a playlist, some accidentally theon lyrics i enjoyed is bad medicine by liz green (...) For every man wants more than he, ever did before He’s still got no way out We’ve got no way out No way out We’ve got no way out of this So if my eyes turn black and my teeth fall out and my hairs caught up in rags Don’t give me none of that medicine ‘cos I’ll spit it right back out He tried so hard to fit in but he never really got a chance Before he spoke they burnt him, cut him, roped him and finally put him in the ground He said ‘I’ve been though war, and I’ve been though law and I’ve climbed that hill so cold Yeah I’ve been though more than you’ll ever know still they never let me go And every man wants more than he, ever did before He’s still got no way out We’ve got no way out No way out We’ve got no way out of this So if my eyes turn black and my teeth fall out and my hairs caught up in rags Don’t give me none of that medicine ‘cos I’ll spit it right back out Oh yeah, I’ll spit it right Yeah I’ll spit it right Oh I’ll spit it right back out I will spit it right I will spit it right I will spit it right back out

I love Mr. Tambourine Man for Theon. Especially this line: “Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind, Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves, The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach, Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow. Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free, Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands, With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves, Let me forget about today until tomorrow.” I also love Hurt by Nine Inch nails- All the lyrics and the entire soundscape of that song is Theon to me. Absolutely intense and amazing. And I also love and associate A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall with Theon. The "seven sad forests" the "dozen dead oceans" the "newborn baby with wolves all around it." But all the imagery in that song is so cool and very appropriate for asoiaf in general .

Oh man, so so many but to name a few: 1. How Soon is Now by the Smiths ("I am the son and heir of nothing in particular" / I am human and I need to be loved just like everybody else does") 2. Sorrowing Man by City and Colour ("Sorrowing man, look how worn you've become. You once were lord of the barren sea. There's blood on your hands." / "Oh, how you have lost your way." 3. Crystal Ball by Keane ("I lost my heart, I buried it too deep, under the iron sea." / "I'm fading out, everything I know is wrong, So put me where I belong.") 4. Bravado by Lorde ("I learned not to want The quiet of the room with no one around to find me out. I want the applause the approval." 5. Hurt by Johnny Cash ("And you could have it all, my empire of dirt. I will let you down. I will make you hurt" / What have I become? My sweetest friend. Everyone I know goes away in the end."

iron by woodkid seven nation army (in a way) bones in the ocean under the water by the pretty reckless

"Oh No" by Marina & the Diamonds; "Bones" by Ms Mr; "The Ocean" by Dar Williams

i'm a marionette by ABBA starring role by marina and the diamonds asleep by the smiths i still have faith in you by ABBA judas by lady gaga california dreamin' by the mamas & the papas al andar by ABBA crucified by army of lovers i'm not coming home by the cowmen no more from into the woods oh i know by only natural waiting around to die by the be good tanyas

Smoke filled room - daughter

Gilded Lily : I remember when you told me it’s an every decision (Theon’s oath to Robb) But with my double vision, how was I supposed to see the way ? (Double vision : Greyjoy/Stark) Haven’t I given enough? Always the fool with the slowest heart (softie boi ) I know you’ll take me with you ( could refer to Robb or Ramsay as they die that they take a piece or the whole of him with) Every city’s got a graveyard (kinda makes me think of his prince of Winterfell era) Now I’m sleeping in the backyard (Well, his Reek moment ofc)

a spanish song by my fave band ever Fito y fitipaldis - Antes de que cuente diez (Before I count to ten) some verses i really like from it are: I got lost in a cross of words. They missed wrote down the address. I already engraved my name on a bullet. I've already tried the cannon fodder I already have everything under control. And someone said no, no, no, no, no That now the wind is coming from the other side Leave me the rudder And someone said no, no, no. What will take me to the end? It will be my steps, not the way. You don't see that you always go behind. When you pursue destiny And I won't feel strange again. Even if you don't get to know me And I won't love you so much again. And I won't stop loving you again I stopped flying, I sank into the mud. And between so much mud I found myself. Some warmth without your hugs Now I know that I will never come back.

I dont know many poems but sinnerman by nina simon and sorry by karine polwart and some other songs in my own language :)

honestly.. robb and theon are kinda two ghosts by harry styles if you squint

All of Radiohead tbh

Pardon this next block of text where I name random music. I have to say something about the album The Downward Spiral by NIN being huge Theon material to me (the instrumental track named after the album is so TWOW Stannis execution presumably foiled by old gods activity. also Hurt but everyone's saying that. ummm THE BECOMING.). Ptolemaea by Ethel Cain. 1906 by the West Coast Art Pop Experimental Band is so Bolton Occupation of Winterfell. Avalanche by Kyle John Kenowski. Sister Europe by The Psychedelic Furs feels TWOW Asha and Theon returning to the islands or something. Sweat by Oingo Boingo. All We Ever Wanted Was Everything by Bauhaus young Theon in Winterfell. King Rat by Modest Mouse feels either Jeyne and Theon escaping Winterfell or Theon and the invasion of Winterfell. I think I'm saying too much but I hate having things out of context, but I can't just parrot an entire playlist here: these are all ruthlessly selected from my playlist on spotify called [PRIVATE INFORMATION] (Epitaph by King Crimson inspired me to make the playlist) that has these plus more but fair warning it's under construction for my reread I've been doing this summer :^) . Um. A Plague of Lighthouse Keepers by Van Der Graaf Generator but it's 23 minutes long and all over the timeline sorrrrry I like prog rock so much. On Kyra thoughts: Please listen to To The Dogs or Whoever by Josh Ritter for Kyra and the keys thoughts.

Remy Zero - Prophecy: You walk this world like you’re a ghost / Your hands are coming through the needles / Sick of your tragic and your evils / I am the keeper of the songs of everyone / [...] / This is a coming of the times / You are a witness to the movement / If all you’re seeing is your lies / You had your chance, but now you’ve blown it / You want this world so you can own it / I am the keeper of the songs of everyone / / Look into the sun and see your soul is dying / Used to feel the faith, but now you’re tired of trying / Should have left alone what you have stolen from everyone / Mmm, how ya feelin’? Seems a little sick to me now / / From the light on high / A chance to change your fate / Forgiveness falling down / On those who chose to wait / Remember the time / Find yourself home again / Deep within your life / Find yourself home again / Find yourself home again / It’s a choice / You have chosen your own T.S. Eliot - The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock: And I have known the eyes already, known them all— / The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase, / And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin, / When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall, / Then how should I begin / To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways? / And how should I presume? / [...] I should have been a pair of ragged claws / Scuttling across the floors of silent seas. [...] I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. / I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. / I do not think that they will sing to me. / I have seen them riding seaward on the waves / Combing the white hair of the waves blown back / When the wind blows the water white and black. / We have lingered in the chambers of the sea / By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown / Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Century Eyes by Shearwater (You are not the last of this house / Nor the first to go over the side / Remember the wrecks of those elegant ships / “Turn it off! Turn it off!” / Look with century eyes till they make you go blind) Two Evils by Bastille (I’m the lesser of two evils / Or am I, am I tricking myself nice? / If I’m a lesser of two evils / Who’s this man, who’s this act I hide behind?) Hurt Feelings by Flight of the Conchords (It’s my birthday, 2003 / Waitin’ for a call from my family / They forgot about me / I got hurt feelings, I got hurt feelings)

The Devil's Backbone by The Civil Wars

Lots ([PRIVATE INFORMATION I'M NOT GONNA DO MY COUNTRY DIRTY LIKE THIS] but a very tragicomical and delusional version), but I'm going to list purely English stuff for the sake of it: "Crucify your mind" by Rodriguez is my go to Theon song and I know no one knows or cares about Rodriguez and this might as well be one of those situations where this only works in my head, but fuck it: Was it a huntsman or a player That made you pay the cost That now assumes relaxed positions And prostitutes your loss? Were you tortured by your own thirst In those pleasures that you seek That made you Tom the curious That makes you James the weak? And you claim you got something going Something you call unique But I've seen your self-pity showing As the tears rolled down your cheeks […] So con-convince your mirror As you've always done before Giving substance to shadows Giving substance ever more And you assume you got something to offer Secrets shiny and new But how much of you is repetition That you didn't whisper to him too? "All these things that I've done" by The Killers has some vibes and lyrics too but god do I feel like an idiot for saying that.

#also the longer the answers got here the more I loved them.#speaking #asoiaf #theon greyjoy #theon survey

20 notes · View notes

itsdannysworld · 1 year ago

Text

Southern Heat

i wrote this two months ago while stoned out of my mind soooooooo haha have fun reading :) (tbh its just a rough draft, i promise not all of these will be shitty)

summary; you and jake have a wholesome friends to lovers moment content warnings: a lil alcohol use but not too much. just a tiny lil bit. cursing? idk idk is that an important cw? oh yeah a kiss or two

Hey y/n, when are you gonna get here? Nashvilles boring without our sunshine

You picked up your phone after hearing it buzz, the message being from Josh. Your best friend who happens to be a famous singer for a famous band that is currently touring. You’ve known him and his brothers (including Danny) ever since they made the big move to Nashville. It all started at a small coffee shop around the corner from your apartment. You had just set down all your stuff after picking up your order from the counter, when the group came in. They just had a vibe about them, one that you were intoxicated by. You watched them on and off as they bought their respective drinks and settled into one of the big couches. Before you knew what you were doing you shut your laptop and walked over to them, it was a rare moment of confidence but once they realized you were coming over to them you knew you couldn’t turn back. “I just wanted to say y’all have cool vibes, and nice peace sign necklace, I have one just like it.” You said pointing to who you now know as Danny. “Well thank you for the wonderful compliment of our vibes!” The one with the curly hair said dramatically, just before the one with dark hair could respond. His smile was infectious, something that could easily light up a room. “You are very welcome!” You said with an equally dramatic tone. Turning to walk away you hear a “Hey, wait! You should come sit with us, we’re not too familiar with the city.” The one with long hair said. He looked almost identical to the one with curly hair. “Oh uh, sure! Gimme a sec,” you went to grab your things, quickly running through every possible scenario of what could happen in your head. What’s the worst that could happen? Making that decision to sit with them was the best decision you had made in awhile, you all became fast friends and you were more than happy to support them in their musical endeavors. You got especially close with Josh and spent most of your time with him, you started to consider him your platonic soulmate. However, being close with him allowed him to find out a huge secret of yours, that you liked his brother. “No fucking way, you like Sam?” He said drunkenly. We went through a whole bottle of wine and he was obviously feeling it. “No dingus, I like Jake.” You blushed putting your hands to your face. The shock on his face freaked you out, but the shock was quickly replaced with one of his signature smiles. “You need to tell him! He’s been crushing on you since forever. It’s getting annoying for everyone to deal with.” You rolled your eyes at the comment. “I don’t believe you, at all.” “Too bad, guess you’ll never have Jakey boy”

You read Josh’s text and quickly responded telling him you’d be over in a minute. To say you were nervous was an understatement, you were practically shitting yourself at the thought of seeing Jake. You quickly finished putting all of your jewelry on and saying goodbye to Bonnie, the small dog you had rescued from the shelter last July. Jake was there with you, and it was the last time you had seen him in person. Y’all tried to keep in touch but between his touring schedule and your work schedule, you haven’t talked to him in a few weeks. You walked out the door and quickly started up your car, heading towards their house. You plugged your phone into the aux cable and shuffled your playlist, a mix of Orville Peck and Arctic Monkeys playing through your speakers. You tried to mentally prepare yourself to see them, but seeing as the drive to their house from your apartment was 10 minutes, you didn’t have enough time to get rid of all the anxiety that plagued you. You pulled into their driveway and instantly all of the memories y’all had shared together came flooding back. Danny driving you home from a drunken night at their house, Josh and you having deep talks on the porch at 1am, Sam and you hotboxing your car, and finally Jake and you going to the store to buy god knows what. You were blasting music and had all the windows down, the thick southern heat swarming around you. That night was when you knew deep down that you were in love with him. You got out of the car and knocked on the door, excited yet nervous to see everyone behind it. “Y/n! It’s so good to see you.” Josh wrapped his arms around you, picking you up and swinging you around a little. “I missed you too Josh” You said with a laugh. You walked further in the house and quickly hugged everyone. Their hugs were top-tier, something you definitely missed when they went on tour. It was finally Jake’s turn to hug you, and it was the warmest one of them all. “I missed you y/n, I’m sorry for not texting you more.” “I missed you too Jake, and truly don’t worry about it, I understand your busy rockstar schedule.” You said as you roll your eyes, faking annoyance. “You know, if I had the chance to talk to you all day while I was on tour, I would’ve taken it.” What he said took you by surprise, was he trying to be romantic or was it fully platonic? You struggled to find words, but finally landed on “I would have come if you had asked.” Finally you looked around the two of you, realizing that everyone has migrated to the kitchen. He must’ve noticed too as he motioned for you to go in front of him towards everyone. When you walked into the kitchen everyone was standing around the island talking. There were a couple more people there, mainly friends with some family mixed in. You went with Jake towards the fridge knowing they would probably have some cheap beer, you weren’t in the mood for anything stronger. “So, how’s it been while touring?” You said as he handed you beer. “It’s been good, it’s kind of weird coming back and not having much to do. It’s good seeing everyone here though, I missed being around people that aren’t my brothers or the crew.” You nodded. While he was talking y’all had ended up sitting on the porch. He started to share stories about the tour, most of which seemed unbelievable. After talking for a few hours (and many drinks later) the conversation had taken a turn towards relationships. “There’s no way you didn’t find anyone while on tour? You went all over the world! Plus you’re a rockstar, so it’s probably easy for you to get a girl.” “Nope, didn’t want any of them. Don’t get me wrong, there were many girls that wanted me, but none caught my eye” He said with a cocky grin. “You seeing anyone?” You shook your head no. You didn’t want to see anyone unless they were him, but there was no way that was going to happen. “Why not?” “None caught my eye I guess.” You said repeating what he said earlier. “I guess there is one person who I kind of think is cool. In a relationship way.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before thinking about them. You had many worries about how this could play out, but alcohol is considered liquid courage for a reason. “Really? Well now you gotta tell me.” You froze, you knew he was going to ask it, but the small amount of confidence you had faded quickly, and you suddenly realized the full consequences that could come with this. He may never want to be friends again. He may feel the same. Our friendship may be awkward because of this. Will I lose everyone if he rejects me? “Well don’t pussy out on me now Y/n” He said with a laugh. “Nevermind, they don’t matter.” “You don’t get to back out that easily. Tell me who it is?” The s in “is” was drawn out. You shook your head. “C’mon y/n! You can’t just not tell me now. I’ll tell you who I like!” “Deal, but close your eyes.” He looked at you weird but then agreed, shutting his eyes. “I’m so sorry if I ruin things by doing this.” You said as you leaned in and gently pecked his lips. His eyes shot open and you immediately push yourself back, saying as many apologies as you could. He pulled you back in and gave you a much more passionate kiss, one that was much needed. Your worries faded away. When y’all finally separated you heard whoops and hollers from the kitchen. Your face flushed pink but despite the audience you went back for one more kiss.

I’m glad I didn’t pussy out

#jakegvf #joshgvf #dannygvf #samgvf #greta van fleet fic #fanfic #firstpost #greta van fleet

10 notes · View notes