#I have had this and Angel of small death and the codeine scene stuck in my head all fucking day

[throatofdelusion12]

SEVEN NEW WAYS TO EAT YOUR YOUNG

[randombush3]

angel of small death & the codeine scene

jenni hermoso x reader

part two

this was supposed to be a blurb but it's too long bc i got carried away so oh well (i also deeply hate this because i got bummed out by the toxicity and had to tone it down)

big thanks to @codiemarin for the idea and the song xx

brief summary: it's a very, very toxic relationship

Hard, unforgiving droplets of water lash down onto the very small window of your bedroom. The sky is grey, your brain is foggy, and you are wondering what decision you made last night that has led you to waking up naked. A muffled groan sounds from somewhere far too close to not be your bed, so you are not alone. 

Hungover, naked, and – with an arm now slung over your bare hips – definitely not alone. What a way to wake up. 

Your phone rings, jolting you upright as the familiar tone screeches at you to stop running from your future. 

You take the bed sheets with you, conserving your modesty. 

And, oh. 

You have slept with a woman. 

She doesn’t look very French, you decide quickly, eyes roaming over the sprawling tattoos decorating olive skin. “Salut,” you attempt, finally uncovering the shrieking device and switching it off – they can’t get you if you don’t give in. “Pas pour être impoli mais je...” 

“Hello.” 

Your words fall back down your throat and you gulp as if to keep them there. You are well aware that staring is rude, but how could you not? 

Her voice is gruff and low and heavily accented. It ignites something that must have been blazing last night, setting the dying embers of your one-night-stand right back on fire, and you… You just look at her. 

“Bonjour,” comes her next bullet, aimed right at the centre of you. Your legs weaken and, for once, you cannot possibly run away. “I need to go to, ehh, how you say? Entrenamiento.” 

“Désolé, comment t'appelles-tu?” 

“Ah.” You continue to wait for her answer, stuck in the rusty cogs of communication. “Eh… Jenni?” 

“Is that a question?” 

“You speak English?!” 

Your nod sets Jenni off into a fit of giggles, amused by the ridiculousness of the situation. You, however, with very little memory of the previous night, are wondering how on Earth this woman ended up here if she doesn’t speak French and was unaware that you speak English. But, if you were to remember, you’d have known that the only words exchanged between you and this Jenni up until now had been your consent for her to do whatever she had wished to you, and her mumbled ‘buenas noches’ after you had finished. 

Jenni had not confessed what her initial attraction to you consisted of. You hadn’t minded. 

Again, your phone rings, but this time Jenni is awake and cognisant, prepared to detect your reluctance to answer (the only reason you’d gotten up had been to decline the call) and glad to welcome you into her arms. 

The previous night, she had mirrored your behaviour, lurching like a stray into an open, uncaring embrace with someone who wasn’t Alexia and therefore not the mistress of her heartbreak. Not that it had dulled her pain, and not that whoever you were mattered. 

“You speak good English,” Jenni says a moment later, breathing in the heady scent of dried sweat and desire. “Where are you from?” 

The only answer you give her is your mouth unexpectedly taking over her own, lips soft but attacking her nonetheless; it’s almost a warning, it’s almost a… threat. She feels a little threatened, really, but she does not know why. You seem like an angel, a halo of sunlight piercing through the grey skies and shining brightly even if the rain is determined to make her miserable. You are sweet, sickeningly addictive, and, although Jenni needs to get herself to the PSG training ground, knowing football will take her mind off what she is striving hard not to think about, she suddenly realises that you, naked on top of her, are her cure instead. 

There is a second time, a third, and then the drawing up of some form of arrangement that neither Jenni’s English nor French permit her to fully understand. You appear when you need her, usually in the café opposite her apartment building, and Jenni makes a point to position her furniture so that they face her windows. She teaches herself patience, but hopes that you are there – sipping your coffee, smoking your cigarette – almost every waking moment. 

Jenni decides that sex with you makes her feel alive, so enlightened that her eyes are open when they are shut and she just knows things. It has never happened to her before, not with Alexia, and certainly not with anyone else. You bring her Heaven, and she begins to learn your body like it is the Bible. She is on her knees for you, praying. She chases her petite mort, which you benevolently extend to her like some winged saviour, with abandon and devotion.

Jenni might have started to chase you, though each and every one of her attempts is shrugged off and denied into non-existence, somewhere between the plane of her imagination and the real world. At times, she has to convince herself that she is not telling herself some self-soothing tale about sex with a woman who disappears seconds after the act is done. 

You are burning hot liquid in her hands. She cups her palms together and she tries to catch you, but some of it slips through her fingers and she can only stare at what she has lost. But, even then, she is glad you have seared her skin and made her feel something, and is thankful for the scorch marks you have left on her. 

She often verbalises her gratitude, accustomed to her partner needing to be praised to the ends of the Earth, but you simply laugh at her. It’s not too patronising – it never is – but if Jenni wanted to, she would hear the venom behind it. And, whenever your Spaniard pants out a gracias/thank you/merci, you hold back the lashing of your tongue, choosing to slice her body instead of her heart. 

It’s not really Jenni’s heart that you care about, though. 

Well, at least, the metaphorical, poetic understanding of the organ. 

You like that it pumps her blood around her body and keeps her alive. You like that she is alive. You like that she uses her oxygenated fingers to fuck you beyond the knowledge of your ever-approaching future and that the muscle is efficient enough to keep her going until there are tears of ecstasy streaming down your face and you lay upon the precipice of euphoria and total obliteration, tiptoeing across the boundary. 

You care about Jenni in the same way a dictator cares for his prized weapon; obsessive, hungry, and overpowered by the idea of having such a thing in his possession. It is callous, and you know that, but it is the necessary mechanism to cope. 

They will come for you within the next year. Jenni will be gone by then, and the armies you have rallied will have been slaughtered. 

You are running with the knowledge that your legs will give out, but there is a woman, an impeccably rebellious choice, who soothes your aches like a decent dose of codeine. 

“Are you in danger?” 

The question is misplaced in the situation, and you are surprised that Jenni is brave enough to ask. 

“Non,” you reply, using the language she can’t speak to quite literally avoid whatever communicative conversation the footballer has dreamt up. 

“You flinch when your phone rings,” she accuses, tattooed arm extended and tensed, index jutting out towards the device lying face-down on the surface of the table. “You hide, I think. You speak very well. I am… confused, and my brain can’t work you out.” 

“Good thing you don’t need to work me out to fuck me senseless.” 

She cringes at how crass you sound, wondering if the sentence has left a bitter taste in your mouth too. She finds herself glancing at your coffee and taking in the stub of your cigarette. You smoke an expensive brand, not that she is well-acquainted with the various types of cancer-sticks (she would play football forever if she could). 

“Are you English?” 

You blink at her, but that is all you give.

“Are you French?” 

You pull on the sooty edge of the glass ashtray and drag it towards you, eyes fixed on the brunette as you put out your cigarette. 

“Why are you in Paris?” Jenni asks desperately. “Why are you here? Why do I not even know your name? Why, if you hate me, do you not just leave me alone?” 

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” 

Your frown may not be genuine, but Jenni’s regret rushes in fast and strong, and she is barking out, “no! No, please!”. Her dignity loses sight of its owner and she would have been embarrassed once upon a time. 

But that was before she met you. 

When you stand, it is with precise and good posture, and it seems as though the entire world pauses to hear your next words. Jenni moves closer with a deft adjustment of the weighting in her hips, darting around the table and overwhelmed by the fear that this is the moment you are going to walk away. 

Her fingers hook onto your flesh, the warmth of the skin a confirmation that you are human, and she lays her heart down to rest at your feet. It’s bloody and raw on the cobbled street, but it is throbbing for your attention and you are wearing a little smile that she has never seen before. 

“Alright, Jenni,” you say, and she swallows her surprise that you have used her name, “I won’t.” 

Jenni and you think, at the same time, of the omitted word: ‘yet’. 

Her contract expires with PSG and you disappear. It happens at the same time, but Jenni is never granted another chat to determine whether the events are related. 

The time that passes after her time in Paris does so in a way that makes Jenni want to both forget and remember her experience. Madrid is her home, but it feels dull. 

Barcelona is worse. Alexia doesn’t… compare. 

Of course, like Jenni and Alexia always do, they break up. Jenni is reminded of how you were running from something, and, inspired, she flees.

She tries to centre her focus elsewhere. Alexia, over the last three years, has grown frustrated with her constant distraction, claiming the forward to be trapped in her head as though it brought her bliss.

In truth, Jenni is experiencing leash-less confusion. She was a stray, she was fed, and now she has been released into the wilderness with no hint of your whereabouts and nothing to prove any of it was real. Apart from what is in her head; those memories. 

A million unanswered questions weigh her down, though the Mexico sun is bright enough to help her see through the fog. 

Is she better now, having survived? 

Jenni does not know about the small hands that cling to your dress as you step onto the hot tarmac of the Mexican airport. Jenni is unaware that the newest share-holder of her new club, Tigres, is paying a visit, wanting to be introduced to his teams. 

She is still relatively new – comfortable, but a stranger to the institution nonetheless. They push her to the back of the huddle of players, although she is tall enough to peer over their heads at their owner and his family. 

He has two sons, she sees, and one is much more timid than the other. Neither react to the cooing of her teammates, nor do they seem to comprehend the conversation being had in Spanish. 

“Dites ‘hola’, mes chéris.” 

She knows that voice. 

Your eyes are piercing and full of recognition. The quieter of the two boys follows your gaze, curious about the woman with drawings on her arms. Held by you now, he pokes your neck to get your attention and points at Jenni, leaning comfortably into your body to whisper something in your ear in a way that Jenni can only attribute to that of a son. You nod softly, and let him wave. 

Jenni waves too, forcing her hand into motion and telling herself she is pathetic if she is unable to function at the sight of a married woman. (Had you always been married?! Is the older boy young enough to have been born after Paris?) 

It works, briefly, and she begins to fumble through her French in her head to formulate a sentence so that she can talk to the little boy, but, too soon, you are waving at Jenni as well and your wedding ring is catching the sunlight and blinding the Spaniard before she can weave her way through the crowd. 

The same ring falls to the floor hours later, rolling off the bedside table as your hand knocks the wood on your quest to find purchase somewhere. It hits the ground of Jenni’s bedroom with a clatter, but she barely registers the sound from her place between your legs. 

Your back arches earlier than anticipated, but Jenni’s tongue is steady and practised. She is an addict with her drug in the palm of her hand, and when she kisses you, it is the heat of your breath in her mouth which makes her heart pound, keeping her alive.

Years ago in Paris, Jenni named you her angel of her orgasm, of what made her feel better after leaving what had been her home and a devastating failure of a relationship. Now, Jenni is unsure whether the euphemism fits. She translates it, instinctively to English (you’re right here with her), and deems it to be better. 

Her Angel of Small Death. 

She bleeds and bleeds, sliced by the weapons you wield, but then you soothe her pain like the opiate you are and she is ready to go again. 

It’s your phone ringing that ruins the post-orgasmic silence between you. 

Jenni observes as you reach out to check it, still tentative, still running from something. “Were you married?” she asks, and you discover her interrogation skills haven’t changed. “Were you married all this time?” 

“I was engaged.”

“When we…” she trails off because she isn’t certain how she should describe the ritualistic nights you’d spend together, “you were engaged?” 

You have toyed with her, leading her somewhere between loved and abused. 

And you… 

You give her a little smile.

“Sorry, Jenni.” 

[areyoudreaminof]

This Life and the Next: A Nessian Playlist

It's finally @nessianweek! And of course for Day 3 I had to make a playlist!

We love their banter, their angst, their passion, and their deep undying love for one another. To watch Cassian and Nesta find each other despite their own personal challenges was such a beautiful and satisfying love story. For this playlist, I tried to follow a somewhat narrative structure that fell in line with ACOSF. I wanted to represent these two people finding one another and lifting the other up. This playlist also has a fun little bonus track for your fun Nessian writing needs. LISTEN HERE and take a look at some lyrics behind the cut.

As The World Caves In-Matt Maltese

My feet are aching And your back is pretty tired And we've drunk a couple bottles, babe And set our grief aside And here it is, our final night alive And as the earth burns to the ground Oh, girl, it's you that I lie with As the atom bomb locks in Oh, it's you I watch TV with As the world, as the world caves in

Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene-Hozier

Feeling more human and hooked on her flesh, I Lay my heart down with the rest at her feet Fresh from the fields, all fetor and fertile It's bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet

Lose My Cool-Amber Marks

I was so full of pain just stuck in my head There was no one that could get me out of it Yes I think the drinking was a bit excessive Just to be frank the drinking ain't what caused me to be aggressive My heart has been taken over Everyday I get colder to 'em I realize need to let go expression from the get go to 'em Feeling it like I just need to speak my brain

Banquet-Bloc Party

And if you feel A little left behind We will wait for you on the other side 'Cause I'm on fire 'Cause you know I'm on fire when you come

Homage-Mild High Club

Please just have a laugh with me 'Cause you know I'm borrowing by now These sounds, have already crowned Come on it's a silly dream Dreaming of the imagery unfound The view sits nice from that cloud

Make You Better-The Decemberists

I'll love you in springtime I lost you when summer came And when you pulled backwards I wanted to, I needed to Oh-oh, to make me better

Andromeda- Weyes Blood

Treat me right I'm still a good man's daughter Let me in if I break And be quiet if I shatter Gettin' tired of looking You know that I hate the game Don't wanna waste any more time You know I been holdin' out Love is calling It's time to give to you

Skulls-Bastille

I don't want to rest in peace I'd rather be the ghost that annoys you I hope you can make me laugh Six feet down when we're bored of each other A match is our only light

When our lives are over and all that remains Are our skulls and bones, let's take it to the grave And hold me in your arms, hold me in your arms I'll be buried here with you And I'll hold in these hands, all that remains

Leather-Tori Amos

Look, I'm standing naked before you Don't you want more than my sex? I can scream as loud as your last one But I can't claim innocence Oh God, could it be the weather? Oh God, why am I here? If love isn't forever And it's not the weather Hand me my leather

waves-Miguel & Kacey Musgraves

Put it out, I'm on fire, fire That’s what I’m about, take me higher, higher, tonight I'm gonna ride that wave

the last beautiful thing I saw..-Paris Paloma

And I looked up, and saw the sun It separated all the colors And the ice, into my eyes It fell and left me blind That was the last thing that I saw The fractured glass and its downpour I felt the blood mix with the water And I didn't see no more

Rut-The Killers

So I'm handing you a memory I hope you understand That steadily reminds you of who I really am

This city's always breathing, I wish that it would die The kickbacks and the bachelors, the fever for the velvet rope The money from my mother's men I'm not like her, you're not like them

Tell Me You Love Me-Sufjan Stevens

My love, I've lost my faith in everything Tell me you love me anyway, tell me you love me anyway My love, I feel myself unravelling Tell me you love me anyway, tell me you love me anyway My love, I feel the darkness on my back

Eternal Flame-Saint Sister

I believe it's meant to be, darling I watch you when you are sleeping You belong with me Do you feel the same? Or am I only dreaming? Is this burning an eternal flame?

Milk & Black Spiders-Foals

Oh, I hope you can hear me All those million miles away, you'd stay 'Cause I'd love you dearly All those billion miles away 'Cause I've been around two times And found that you're the only thing I need

BONUS TRACK: Smut-Tom Lehrer

Give me smut And nothing but! A dirty novel I can't shut If it's uncut And unsubt-tle

Taglist: @asnowfern @damedechance @foundress0fnothing @foreverinelysian @gaeleria @goddess-aelin @itsthedoodle @kataravimes-of-the-shire @krem-does-stuff @labellefleur-sauvage @moodymelanist @c-e-d-dreamer @nessianweek @octobers-veryown @popjunkie42-blog @reverie-tales @rosanna-writer @spell-cleavers @sassyhobbits @separatist-apologist @secret-third-thing @thesistersarcheron @the-lonelybarricade @ultadverb @vulpes-fennec @witchlingsandwyverns @xtaketwox @wilde-knight @witch-and-her-witcher @iftheshoef1tz @ofduskanddreams @talons-and-teeth

[peachyxboy]

A Love so Sweet, it Hurts 🥀 - Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene

Lovelace Hospital - Albuquerque, New Mexico

It had been a few days since her encounter with this so-called 'Lalo,' and Tala was definitely not thinking about him. Not in the slightest...Except maybe on her drive back to work, and the rest of her lunch break. Or the other time when she was at home watching How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, and her mind started to drift off to when their fingertips barely brushed against one another's when he handed over her food order. And yesterday while cooking she started daydreaming about his playful cadence. Or even today, Tala was at work and standing at the nurses station, she was looking over some files when she just couldn't help but think about Lalo. There was something oddly familiar, yet he had this vivacious air to him. Most of the men she encountered that came into El Michoacano were brooding or stoic, with a snarl or scowl to match. But, as stereotypical and overplayed as it sounded, Lalo felt different. Tala nearly cringed, even in her head she knew she sounded like a love struck puppy.

Tala knew whoever she got with wouldn't be some big, romantic, larger-than-life tale where she would be swept off her feet and live happily ever after. That was for the movies. Honestly, she didn't even try to actively date. Sure, she's gone on dates before, and had a few trysts here and there, but nothing ever stuck. They wanted more, but Tala was never ready.

Her daydreams were interrupted by a pen tapping the EKG scans in her hands. Tala nearly jumped as she looked up and saw three of her nurses grinning from ear to ear. "What?"

They giggled like teen girls at a sleepover and nodded past her. She turned and was met with the same smile from her memories. "Doctora," he greeted, "It's good to see you again."

"Hi..."

Tala mentally kicked herself for standing there like a gaping idiot, "W-What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

He shrugged, "Not that many Dr. Tala's in Albuquerque. Really, I think you're the only in New Mexico."

"Right, umm...What can I do for you?" she pushed the file away and tried to gain whatever composure she had left.

"I was wondering if I could chat with you about a personal matter," he glanced over at the nurses and shot them a wink before looking back to her.

The nurses swooned and tried to hold back a fit of giggles and grins. Tala just nodded, trying to be the professional she knew she was. "Of course, let's talk somewhere a little more private," she said and ushered him to follow her.

Lalo gave the nurses one last grin before following after the doctor. "They're a lively bunch," he teased.

She chuckled a bit, "You have no idea."

Tala liked her nursing staff, though they lived for gossip. Then again, the whole hospital did, so she couldn't blame them. Especially they were also some of the few that pushed her to go on a date. "So, what did you need?" she asked, occasionally glancing at the patients in the rooms they passed.

She tried to make it seem she was still doing her job, but honestly she was just trying not to stare at him so much. "You were my uncle's doctor, right?"

Tala paused for a moment, "Uncle."

That's when everything clicked. She stopped in her tracks and finally looked over at Lalo, when she saw the resemblance now. She nearly scoffed but just shook her head and chuckled a bit, starting up her walking again. "Of course," she murmured to herself, "You're a Salamanca."

Of course it was all to good to be true. He couldn't have been some street dealer, he had to be right from source. Lalo picked up on her hostility quickly, but it didn't deter him anymore than it did intrigue him. "So you do know my family."

"All too well," she murmured, "But, I'm not your uncle's doctor anymore, so if you want I can give you the number of his-"

"I'm not here to talk about my tio, I'm here for you."

"Me?"

Tala tried not to look at Lalo out of spite now, but could just tell her was smiling at the side of her head. "What about me?"

"Well, for starters," he began and walked faster to face he head on, "You're just as beautiful as my uncle said you were."

Tala stopped but he continued his pace, causing her to trail after him, "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure he said I was a radiant beauty in those exact words, what are you doing?"

"Well, I was waiting for the next time you'd come by the restaurant, but when you didn't, I figured I'd come to you," he replied as casual as ever.

Lalo kept his eyes exactly on hers, feet not missing a beat as he walked backwards. Thankfully, the hallways wasn't that busy, and most saw them coming and were quick to move to the other side of the hall. Tala, however, kept trying to glance over his shoulders, just in case a stray patient or cart was in their way. "Why? What do you want?" she asked, slightly annoyed that this was about her fourth time asking him that question.

"Isn't it obvious? I'd like to get to know you more. I find you...interesting."

"Well as flattered as I am, I'm afraid I'm busy," she remarked, seeing as they moved towards a more active area.

"When?"

"Everyday."

He chuckled, Lalo was enjoying this and he had no problem showing that he was. That just struck a chord with Tala, in more ways than one. "You need to watch out," she advised, seeing a CNA quickly dodge Lalo.

"Let's have dinner," he pressed on, not a care in the surrounding world to them, "It doesn't have to be anything too special, if you want, you still have to try my cooking."

"Seriously, watch out."

Tala could feel her anxiety bubble as she watched patients and nurses go in and out of rooms up ahead. "Just one night, and I swear you'll fall in love. With my cooking, I mean."

"Lalo watch out!"

In a split second, Tala watched as a nurse walked out of an upcoming room with her medcart, and she quickly reached out, yanking him to her. Lalo stumbled a bit, but balanced himself as held onto the doctor. Tala felt her heart lunge out of her chest a bit as she let out a breath of relief. "Oh my god, Dr. Velasco, are you okay?! I'm so sorry!"

"Yeah, Myra it's fine we're okay, really."

Tala felt her heart start to calm down a bit, but realized just how close she was to Lalo. She looked up and he was smirking down at her, "So, tonight sounds good?"

She just sighed and moved back from him, "If I say yes, will you not cause a scene at my hospital anymore?"

His smile grew, "I'll see you tonight then."

Tala just watched as he sauntered off, throwing her one last look before turning the corner and disappearing into the elevator.

Susmaryosep.

El Michoacano

Later that day

Tala wasn't entirely sure why she even went. Everything in her gut told her not to. She knew the Salamanca's, and she knew that it was best to stay more than 10 feet away from any family member. But, she had a feeling if she didn't, he would be at the hospital everyday till she did. So, here she was, parked in front of El Michoacano and mentally preparing for what was to come. Maybe this was all a trick, an elaborate scheme to take her out. Maybe Lalo and the other Salamanca's were worried she'd squawk to the feds if anyone asked her. Or, as crazy as it sounded, this could just be a regular dinner. Whatever this would end up being, Tala finally exited her car and went inside.

She was just a few steps away from the door when she heard music spilling out. The 'OPEN' sign had already been switched to 'CLOSE,' and there didn't seem to be anyone else around like Domingo or Nacho. A quick peak through the window, and she saw that Lalo had set up one of the tables with a candle and flower in a vase. She could also see that Lalo was zipping around the kitchen, probably finishing up whatever he was cooking. It was kind of cute, all things considered. But, Tala didn't let that deter her from the truth:

Lalo was a Salamanca after all and-like his uncle and cousins-was probably apart of the cartel. She had no idea what his true intentions were, and for all she knew, this could've been a ploy just to tie up loose ends.

Never the less, Tala just took a deep breath and walked inside.

Lalo didn't think Tala would actually agree to join him. Don't get him wrong, he had all the confidence in himself, but the doctor didn't seem to be one who was easily swayed. Regardless, he was more than happy when he heard the small chime of the door as she entered. He lowered the heat of the grill top, before walking out to greet her, "Doctora."

Her usual neat bun was now down, her dark hair had a slight wave to it, but he could tell it was naturally straight. Her scrub top was switched for a light gray long-sleeve, and instead of her work shoes she wore some flat slip-ons. He figured she came straight from work, and the look on her face said it had been a long day. "Please, sit," he said as he walked out and pulled out a chair for her.

She was hesitant, but moved to take a seat, "Thanks."

"Dinner's almost finished, can I get you something to drink?" he asked, racing back to the kitchen to not burn anything.

"Just water," she called after him.

Tala glanced around, just to make sure there was no one hiding before they pounced on her. Was she being paranoid? A little. But, she could never be too paranoid when it came to the Salamanca's. A little bit later, he had brought out two plates along with a small pitcher of water with lemon and mint. He set it all down before taking his place next to her. "Please, after you," he said, unfolding his napkin and placing it on his thigh.

"So, how did you find out where I work?" she asked.

"Nachito told me," he explained, "You remember him, don't you?"

She paused for a moment, before remembering Dom call his friend 'Nacho' here and there, "Vaguely."

Her tension didn't ease as they eat, and Lalo could tell. "If you're worried about me, Doctora, you have nothing to worry about," he mused.

"It's nothing," she said dismissively.

He looked at her and chuckled, "You're not a very good liar, are you?"

"I assure you, I can be a very convincing liar when need be," she teased.

"Really? Go on then: tell me a lie."

Tala sat back and thought about it for a moment, her expression becoming serious. "You're not that good of a cook."

Lalo watched before erupting into laughter, as did she. "You had me there for a second."

"No, I'm serious. It's disgusting," she continued with a small grin.

"Who would've thought? You have a mischievous side to you, Doctora."

"I have a lot of sides to me," she said in a teasing manner.

"I'm sure you do," Lalo could only smirk behind his glass as he took a sip.

"What about you?" Tala asked curiously, "You seemed to pop out of thin air. Your uncle and cousins never mention you before. It's like you didn't exist up until recently."

"I liked to keep a low profile," he said casually, unphased by her pressing questions, "I take care of our business in Mexico, I'm just here to help out a little, you know? Make sure things don't get shaken up with my uncle in his state."

"So, are you planning on leaving soon?"

Lalo looked at Tala and grinned before answering, "I'm not sure yet. I wasn't planning on staying long, but something might cause me to stay."

She tried not to think too much into his words, but kept that in mind.

"So what about you? You seem to know way more about me than I know about you."

Tala looked up at him, this time her own smile forming on her face. "What about me?"

He laughed, "Well, let's start simple: where you from? Chef said you moved here three years ago."

"San Diego. But, before that Tijuana, and before that Philippines."

Lalo was a little surprised, but it made sense considering her proficiency in Spanish, "Tijuana?"

"I know, it sounds weird, but my family fled Philippines when I was just a kid. The smugglers brought us over and guess they got lost and we lived in Mexico for a few years before crossing the border," she explained.

"Fled?"

Tala just nodded, for a split-second, her mind seemed to drift before quickly coming back to reality. "When President Marcos declared martial law, a lot of people got hurt. My parents didn't want me or my brother to go through it, so we left."

"Wow, you have quite the story," he said, hanging on to every word that left her mouth.

She just shook her head to lighten the mood, "Not really, I'm sure there's a billion other stories just like mine."

"Perhaps, but I've met a lot of people, and I have say: there's not one person as interesting as you," Lalo complimented.

She couldn't help but smile a bit, "You think I'm interesting?"

"Very. And smart, and beautiful, and strong," he continued, and Tala would be lying if she said she didn't blush a little.

"Is that how you charms all the girls you ask to dinner?" she remarked.

"Only the ones I like," he said with a wink.

Tala felt her heart flutter a bit and she couldn't hold back the smile on her face. Lalo liked seeing her smile, it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. If that was even possible.

Dinner went on and Tala actually had a good time. They talked just about everything-except for the cartel and drugs of course-it genuinely was a good time. It's been so long since Lalo was able to just talk and get to know someone without having to worry about if they were going to kill him, or when he should kill them. Tala made him feel like he was just a person, not the scary Salamanca that everyone saw him as. And while he liked his title and commanding power wherever he went, it was refreshing to chat with someone who just saw him as Lalo. He ended up walking to her car when the night started to come to an end. "So, tell me: how'd you like my cooking?"

She chuckled and pretended to think about it for a second, "7.53 out of 10."

"Ouch, tough critic," he teased as he opened her door for her, "Anyway I could change your mind?"

Tala paused as they looked at one another, and she swore her heart skipped a beat when Lalo's eyes glanced down at her lips. Her heart was racing at this point and their closeness didn't help, especially with the scent of Lalo's cologne wafting in her direction. "It's getting late, maybe next time," she said.

Lalo just smiled and gently reached out for Tala's hand, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. Her breath hitched as he gave her hand a small squeeze: "I'll be waiting.

It took Tala a moment before getting in her car. She looked out the window and waved goodbye before driving off.

Fuck.

[derelictheretic]

Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton, @clicheantagonist and @baldurrs (Thank you!!) to list 5-10 songs that describe or relate to my fav otp/personal ship(s) ! Stuck to my fc5 ones for this <3

Tagging: @viktor-sinclaire @trashcatsnark @bluemojave @ishwaris @unholymilf @roofgeese @sukoshimikan @detectivelokis @strangefable @necro-hamster @deputyash @rejected-beater @jollybone @eur0paa-2 @i-am-the-balancing-point

I just went with 5 songs for each ship, I've been obsessed with Sleep Token recently so they have snuck into a few playlists lmao

Spotify

Clueless by Ellie Williams

Do you think she has seen i'm captivated by her speech?

Or is she clueless?

The Only Exception by Paramore

And up until now I had sworn to myself

That I'm content with lonlieness

I Love you but you make me cry by Elthia

You try to protect yourself

So I have to rip through you

I Wish I never Met You by Babygirl

I wish I knew forever would end so soon

I wish I never kissed you in my living room

Enemies by Lauv

Oh tell me, why did we throw away the love we had?

And tell me why do, why do we love to make it hurt so bad?

Spotify

River by Bishop Riggs

Shut your mouth, baby, stand and deliver

Holy hands, will they make me a sinner?

Obsessed With You by The Orion Experience

Your love is better than cocaine

I need you more than oxeygyn

Room For Two by Will Knox

If there is a heaven

I hope I go to hell with you

John My Beloved by Sufjan Stevens

I am a man with a heart that offends

With its lonely and greedy demands

Granite by Sleep Token

I was more than just a body in your passenger seat

And you were more than somebody I was destined to meet

Spotify

I love you baby by Surf Mesa, Emilee

I love you baby, and if it's quite alright

I need you baby, to warm these lonely nights

Dance Alone by Talya Parx

Left hand up, right hand on the bible

You walked in, I was dead on arrival

Angel of small death and the Codeine scene by Hozier

Feeling more human and hooked on her flesh

I lay my heart down with the rest at her feet

My Attic by P!nk

I will give you all my secrets

If you promise you can brave my attic

Lovefool by The Cardigans

Say that you love me

Fool me, fool me

Spotify

It Will Come Back by Hozier

Jesus Christ, don't be kind to it

Honey, don't feed it, I will come back

Once Upon a Dream by Lana Del Ray

And I know it's true, vision are seldom what they seem

But if I know you, I know what you'll do

Alkaline by Sleep Token

And she's changing me

It's too late for me now, I am altered

Deity by Valeree

I'll be your deity, fall to your knees

Oh, honey, pray to me between the sheets

Religion by ZAND

My angel's most polite

When I am on my knees

Spotify

Hit Me With a Kiss by Solo

And when he hit me with his kiss

I tasted whiskey on my lips

Persia by Until The Ribbon Breaks

If I can't be your prince

Then I like to whisper, I'd like to leave you in my fingerprints

Love Is A Weapon by Letdown.

It's just a masochistic love

I've got the push under your shove

I Go Hungry by Mother Mother

When I go hungry I go nail and tooth

When I go hungry, I go hungry, I go hungry

Puppy Pound by Jazmin Bean

Normally i'm no stray, you won't find me in the lost and found

So why'd you make me feel like I am in the goddamn puppy pound?

Spotify

Power by Isak Danielson

When you move, you make my oceans move too

If I hear my name I will run your way

I'll Keep You Safe by Sleeping At Last

Our mistakes, they were bound to be made

But I promise you I'll keep you safe

Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley

And Love is not a victory march

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

The Summoning by Sleep Token

Oh, and my love

Did I mistake you as a sign from God

His Hands by Blegh

But you know I was still down on my knees

Like it was a religion

[carlostck]

raugh that was a typo, I meant day. Was so tired last night and forgot to put back on my glasses! aughh Although my father would find it funny

I will gladly take any! I've heard a few of her songs before and just learned that she was the audio for a Vine that I quoted a lot when I was younger Every time I saw someone in a red dress I would say it lol

Would give a few Harumi songs but I've forgotten the ones I wanted to share!! However, I do have a few for her and Lloyd, if that is anything:

Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri, hadn't heard the song in a while but my mother was playing music and it clicked when I heard it after how many years

This one I also hadn't heard in a while, Grenade by Bruno Mars Completely forgot it was even a song, heard it on the radio and was like "huh, that works surprisingly well"

eugh I had one more but dunno if I'll remember it... Think it was Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by Hozier

And then two songs that I have stuck in my head, In a Week by Hozier and Burning House by Cam The latter makes me think of Misako actually!

That's all I have for now, may remember more later

day 3...... no carlostck..... how will we survive the winter in these conditions? nations at war.. animals going extinct.. rivers drying out... come back.... /j

ANYWAY!! hope ur doing good !!! js came here to say u should listen to violets for roses by lana del rey and favorite game by the cardigans ‼️‼️ both vv different songs. but make me think of harumi and theyre very good.

Haha! This made my dad lol

I'll listen to those right now! Augh do I need to listen to more Lana Del Rey, her voice is so unique and it's always interesting to follow the lyrics "...the only mistake that a man can make is tryna make a woman change and trade her violets for roses" fits so well, I see what you mean!

The Cardigans sound familiar, both the name of the band and the song, but don't actually remember listening to any of their music. It's a good song too! Might check them out That one is also very much a Harumi song, can't wait to see that playlist!!

Thank you for this!!!

[hella1975]

First off, I loved the Coldplay reccomendations. Every song has been a 10/10.

I’m sure you’ve already done this, but do you have any reccomendations for Hozier?

i love asks like this and i ABSOLUTELY have hozier recs, probably more than with coldplay so buckle up

take me to church - it's the classic hozier song. it will tear you apart. it will build you back up again. i cannot believe there was a point in time when people were CASUALLY jamming to this on the radio at breakfast or some shit

nina cried power - holy shit i adore this song. hozier my feminist king <3

dinner and diatribes - this one is so catchy like if i listen to it once it will be stuck in my head for the rest of the week. @verdanthoney however had some THINGS to tell me about it and now i'll never listen to it the same way

angel of small death and the codeine scene - listen im not good at committing to things like this but AT THE MOMENT i would say this is my favourite hozier song. the CHORUS holy fuck i ascend every time

someone new - my friend who doesn't listen to hozier likes this one and always plays it in the car so it feels very happy and summery to me :)

work song - just. the lyrics. i've had to sit down and stare at a wall over these lyrics before

like real people do - besties have i ever mentioned that i can play this on guitar? because i can play this on guitar. i just thought you should know. that i can, ahem, i can play this on guitar

cherry wine - this was the song that made me fall in love with hozier

in the woods somewhere - it just feels so ominous. the musical version of that moment before a really horrendous storm breaks. i can't explain the way this makes me feel

nfwmb - i used to listen to this when writing YEARS ago, back in that coffee shop i've told you guys about and way before fanfiction was even an idea in my mind. it's very relaxing to me, but the lyrics - as ever with hozier - are also really cool

arsonist's lullaby - zuko song zuko song zuko song another of my original favourites when i first got into hozier

okay i'll stop now bc that's a lot but yeah! i love this man! go feral!

[obviousflirtations]

The Angel of Smalls Deaths part 2

In case you missed it:

Part 1 Part 2

Let me know what you think! 

---

Looks like a strain to the arms it were open

The woman stood up and turned the darkened window behind her, completely ignoring the teens and their agenda. “My friends, I don’t think you’re aware of your poor timing.” [Y/N] noticed how confidently Araya carried herself, how she didn’t fear the three behind her. “Do you know what the dark moon is?”

Lydia was the one who answered, [Y/N] looked at the banshee who’s eyes were straight ahead, her face deadpan as she spoke, “the part of the lunar phase where the moon is the least visible in the sky.”

The woman turned her head sideways, “but do you know its meaning?”

[Y/N] tilted her head at the question, wracking her brain with useless knowledge she had learned from her parents about the moon and its phases and how it could help, or hurt, their power. “It’s a time of reflection,” her voice cut through the silence, the woman turned back to the three of them, “or grief.”

No shortage of sordid, no protest from me

“Grief and loss, mija,” Araya looked at her, making direct eye contact. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, unable to keep her calm resolve. “I wonder why,” a smile played on the woman’s lips, “when you and your friends have suffered so much loss, you would risk it again for someone like Derek Hale.”

Stiles’ voice sounded again, “’Cause we don’t like to lose,” he leaned forward in his chair. 

[Y/N] tilted her head as a voice sounded over the radio, something about the club. She didn’t know Spanish very well, even though she really should. The man to the woman's left, the one who had guided them there wanted to know about something in the north, as he kept repeating it over and over again on the radio with no response. 

With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean

“Stiles,” a voice sounded over the radio, “take ten off the table.”

The woman’s head turned as Stiles did as he was told, taking a stack off of the table. 

“Maybe you should just take the deal,” Lydia stated, looking from the table to the woman.

Araya bit back a laugh. “While I am keen to follow,” she leaned on the table to the banshee, “the warning of a banshee, I’m going to have to decline,” she smiled. 

She's the angel of small death,

“How about a warning from me?” [Y/N] spoke up, her eyes going from her lap to the woman, a faint green glow coming from the once [E/C] eyes. 

The woman smiled, her eyes narrowing, “now that, I might heed.” 

She could feel the shock from Stiles and Lydia, the didn’t know her past, who she was long before Beacon Hills her junior year. The monster she could become. 

“Show me, show us, who you really are, mija,” the woman challenged, noticing how much straighter the girl now sat. She could feel the months of rejection, of sadness, of feeling unworthy bubbling to her surface. 

and the codeine scene

“Why do you want Derek anyways?” [Y/N] asked, changing the subject entirely, her mouth flattening out. “You don’t want him always, haven’t you noticed how much of a downer he is?”

Stiles’ chimed in, “no sense of humor,” he gestured a line in the air, “poor conversationalist,” Lydia nodded in agreement, a frown on her face, “just come on, take the money.” Stiles gestured to the table.

The woman grabbed the radio, any debating on giving the teens what the wanted was gone, “Severo,” she said over the radio, “show them how the Calavera’s negotiate.”

She put the radio down and then walked from the room. The rest of the hunters who were left in the room with them grabbed them from their chairs. There was little they could do to fight it. 

With her straw-blonde hair,

The men took Stiles from the room as he shouted to Lydia and [Y/N], his eyes wide with fear as they separated the trio. It only took a look to the other hunters in the room for them to know that they were indeed stuck there. Away from the others.

Soon enough, Lydia and [Y/N] were outside the club, seated at a table with Araya who now poured tea into a tea cup. The area had multiple hunters around them, either making sure the two teenagers didn’t try anything or there was a larger threat they were unaware of. 

“I have to admit,” the woman started, “I don’t have much experience with banshees, or,” she flicked her eyes to [Y/N], “witches for that matter.”

Lydia huffed, shrugging her shoulders as she slumped forward, “well, that makes two of us,” she looked at the woman, “since I don’t have much experience being one.”

her arms hard and lean

The woman brought her cup into her hands, “I have a feeling you under estimate your power, Lydia,” then she looked to the other girl who sat still next to the banshee, “and you, you have lost touch with yours.”

“Trust me,” [Y/N] spoke, lifting her brows, “everyone is better off that way.”

Lydia piped up next, her voice calm and even, “not to mention, you’d have better luck with tarot cards.”

“Let’s find out then,” She smiled at the girls before looking at the three men who stood to the right of their table, “which of these men is about to die?” [Y/N] couldn’t believe how casually she said the words. It was like she was planning to kill one of the men. 

Lydia looked to the men now, her eyes wide.

“How does it work?” Araya asked, grabbing a fruit from the table and cutting the skin off with a knife, “do you need to touch them? Maybe I give you something they own?” She set down the knife, pointing aimlessly in the air, “or is it just, just a feeling?”

Lydia looked to her, “I told you, I don’t know.”

“Just how close to death do they have to be?” Araya challenged, her eyes narrowed.

[Y/N] put her hands on the table, “Araya, stop this.”

She's the angel of small death

[Y/N] watched as Lydia took another look at the men, her eyes brimming with tears. The sound of nails tapping a knife sounded in the girls’ ears before Araya threw the knife into one of the men’s chest. Lydia let out a scream as she stood up abruptly. 

She looked to see how smug the huntress was as Lydia stood terrified behind her friend. 

“Why did you do that?” [Y/N] asked, her voice calm and even.

Araya shrugged, “he stole from me.”

Lydia whispered from behind her. “What do you want?”

“Right now?” She asked, “I want to know about Scott McCall,” Araya paused as she moved her eyes to stare into the seated girl, “and this lovely young woman in front of you.” As she spoke something hard hit the back of [Y/N]’s head, nothing could be done to stop it as darkness overtook her vision. The last thing she heard was a scream from Lydia and then, nothing.

[greenorangevioletgrass]

angel of small death and codeine scene (richboy!haz smut)

“feeling more human and hooked on her flesh, i / lay my heart down with the rest at her feet / fresh from the fields, all fetor and fertile / it’s bloody and raw, but i swear it is sweet.” - Hozier

summary: your encounters with harrison always starts with quick-witted exchange of insults and ends with the two of you tangled in each other. it’s a drug, and you’re slowly getting addicted.

word count: 4,317 words

song inspo (all by hozier!): angel of small death and the codeine scene / as it was / NFWMB / moment’s silence (common tongue) / sedated / it will come back / talk / wasteland, baby!

warnings: frenemies with benefits, enemies to lovers, mutual pining, profane language, drinking, mention of marijuana, A LOT OF SMUT! WARNINGS AHEAD! switch!haz, sub!haz, dom!reader, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, spanking, unprotected sex, choking, oral sex (m receiving), spit play

a/n: reposted bc it didn’t show in the tags and im really proud of to share with you guys lol. so here it is, folks! i wrote this in like 2 days and i fell in love hard with the concept. i hope you enjoy it as much as i did when i wrote it. happy reading!

It is much too early to be in heels and kissing ass with stuck-up, middle-aged men and women with more money than sense. It’s barely noon and the tall-ceilinged hotel ballroom feels stuffy with sugary finger food and saccharine small talks. And yet duty calls, and you have to be there for this… award celebration brunch event whatever on some swanky hotel somewhere in Midtown. Represent the family. Be the future of the company.

Blah, blah, blah.

You've been talking to Georgina Claridge, who's older than time and yet always manages to show up with a newer (younger) husband in her arm each time. You're quite impressed, but right now, she's droning on and on about her latest silent retreat in Bali that you feel like breaking your champagne glass and jamming the shard into your eye.

"I'm very sorry, will you excuse me for one second, Georgina?" you smile sweetly, slipping away into the crowd before she could say anything else.

You manage to snag another glass of champagne and find an empty little table by the floor-to-ceiling window. Relishing in the pleasant fizz and buzz of the drink on a nearly empty stomach. Taking in a moment of silence amidst a low but noisy humdrum.

"That's three glasses in 15 minutes." A familiar voice pipes up before you, his English accent laced with amusement and a tinge of condescension. "Do I need to stage an intervention for you, darling?"

You don't even have to look to see who it is.

"You're one to talk."

He allows himself to sit right in front of you, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling mischievously. You begrudgingly admit-- to yourself, that he looks like a million bucks in his crisp navy suit, a glass of champagne in his hand. You wouldn't be caught dead admitting that to him, of course.

"Surprised to see you here. Thought you'd catch fire in the sun or something, seeing as you're the lord of the underworld."

"Oh, come on, Persephone. We both know that you secretly love the underworld." he smirks.

"Persephone was forced to be there because of her shit husband."

"Nope. She likes Hades for real, and she decides to stick around. And Hades is like," he shrugs, "fuck yeah."

You can't help but snort. "You wish I'd ever want to stick around for your insufferable ass."

"Oh, my arse is a lot of things beyond insufferable. We both definitely know that."

"So thirsty for me this early in the day. Are you developing a crush?" you smirk back at him.

"Don't be flattered. You just… look so lonely, I had to come over and cheer you up," he speaks with sincerity in his eyes.

Just not at your eyes, but at the plunging neckline of your sleek black dress.

"Hey. Eyes up here."

His eyes snap up to yours. "Oh, I wasn't talking to you."

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Sleaze."

"Slut."

Your jaw drops open. "You did not."

"You love it."

"Not in public, though."

"We'll see about that."

This is how it's always been with Harrison. You'd met him sporadically in events and company meetings when your parents' companies had a massive merger five years ago, and you've always hated his guts. He's cocky and patronizing and embodies everything you want to beat up with a bat.

Until alcohol is involved.

And by some strange miracle, you stopped arguing and jabbing insults at one another. Instead, he gave you the best orgasm of your life on top of a pool table in his family's villa in Positano. It didn't hurt that he's easy on the eyes. And it certainly didn't hurt that his mouth is good for something more useful than his shitty remarks.

"Eager, aren't we?"

"Eager to prove you wrong, more like," he retorts.

"Really?" you drag your stiletto-clad foot up his calf, nudging his knees apart, and trailing up his thigh. Feeling that stiffness between his legs.

He catches your ankle. "You're looking for trouble."

"Oh, I definitely am."

"Wanna know what I do to little sluts looking for trouble?"

"Pray tell, old sleaze." you put your leg in his lap like a threat, holding your heel at knifepoint to his hip.

He caresses your ankle softly, though it feels just as menacing as your move.

"I give them a good spanking and put them in their place."

It's definitely a threat, and you know Harrison, as sorry of an excuse he is as a person, is a man of his words. And it's not like it's your first time or anything; you've been on the receiving end of his reprimanding. You’re more than aware he reprimands thoroughly.

But you definitely can give him a run for his money and right now, his little bluff feels like a challenge to your diamond-studded ears.

"Mm." you pull your leg away and stand up, letting him believe just for a second that he's gone too far, you're gonna throw your drink at him or slap him in the face, or both, before you bend over to whisper in his ear, "try me."

You feel his jaw flex and you know he’s in.

"My room's upstairs."

"Wonderful." you smile victoriously, finding a new sway on your hips as you walk away.

"Excuse me, sir--"

You turn back to find a server, young and timid, calling out to Harrison, who's clutching a bottle of champagne in his hand. No doubt from the serving table he passed by.

He sighs. "Mate, I paid for this event. So why don't you do your job and let me enjoy this lovely bottle that I already paid for?"

The boy, couldn’t have been older than you, apologizes profusely, looking positively pale, and Harrison pats him on the shoulder and smiles in satisfaction. "Good man."

"I'm so sorry. He's a dick." you look at him apologetically, although Harrison is already grabbing your arm, whisking you away from the stuffy hall.

He wastes no time between punching in his floor (penthouse, of course. So fucking predictable.) and pulling you in to capture your lips. Bodies clashing with one another, stumbling into a vaguely recognizable space --he’s never stayed in this suite before, but after a while, every suite just feels like the same. This encounter is encumbered with familiarity, too, and he can’t get enough of the heat of your breath in his mouth, feeling-- more than anything, alive.

You try to toe off your shoes, these black Louboutins with heels as thin as the champagne glass stems, but he stops you. "Keep 'em on," he murmurs into your neck, sucking and biting on your skin mercilessly, hands treading the back of your dress for the zipper. He undoes it and lets it fall on the floor.

You hear him curse as he peers down at your white lace bralette wrapping your heaving chest. Just as quickly as you undress, he's got his hands on the swell of your breasts, thumbing at your nipples through the thin material.

"Fuck, your tits are amazing.” he tears his lips away from your bruise-adorned neck. "Seriously, did you get a boob job or something-- ow!"

You smack the back of his head as an answer and push his blazer off of his shoulders.

"Feeling a bit rough, eh? Maybe I should tell you to smile more."

"Fuck off."

"You miss me.”

"If I missed you, I would've just scraped cutleries on a plate.”

In all honesty, it has been a while since you’ve seen Harrison. You last ran into him in LA at his best friend Tom’s premiere afterparty two months ago where you got stoned in a quiet little corner of Zendaya’s garden. He’d barely put his mouth on your pussy when you looked up to the starry sky and remarked that it looked like dandruff. You rolled away from each other laughing your asses off.

Come to think of it, it was probably the only time you didn’t have sex and feel like murdering each other.

And it was nice.

You quickly shake off the thought, remembering that you’re here on a mission; an unspoken bet to be won. And you try to focus on his usually venomous tongue, currently sweet with booze and fruity pastry bites. And as you unbutton his light blue shirt, you try not to think about how the color matches his eyes. The very ones that are undressing you from what little you have on now.

“Besides, didn't you say something about giving me a proper spanking? Shut the fuck up and get to work."

"Ooh, somebody's got their little panties up in a twist today." he teases. "Off you go, then. On all fours."

He leaves a trail of hickeys down your back, taking the scenic route along your shoulder, the dimples on your back, and the soft curve of your waist. You've joked that he has an oral fixation, but really he just wants a little reminder that says Harrison was here.

He would take this secret to his grave, but he doesn’t like how easily you recover from your little trysts. You can suck him off in a bathroom stall and flirt with the lead ballerina of the English National Ballet as you freshen up on your way out with him still waiting inside. Or ride his cock in his office and then make sweet small talk with one of his staff, this 6’4” gangly nerd whom you insist has a ‘really nice smile.’ It bruises his ego, and he wants to bruise you back in a way that he can. Maybe then it’ll deter whoever is flirting with you next.

"Bet you can't even spank me hard enough."

He knows what you're doing. These little taunts are as much foreplay as the kisses and touches. It drives him up the wall like nothing he ever imagined. His teeth sink into the curve of your backside, burning a sharp pain into your skin, and soon his tongue follows, soothing it with warm, tender strokes. And then…

Smack!

His hand lands and caresses almost immediately, but inflicts another spark again with another strike. And another. And another.

You hold your tongue and bury your face in the sheets. The more it hurts, the more fun it gets. And you've barely started playing.

"Seriously, is that the best you can do? I barely feel a pat," you chuckle, wiggling your reddened ass up in the air for him.

"Really?" his palm ceases to ministrate the blows and instead, a single finger traces the inside of your thigh all the way to your panties. "How come you're all wet, then?"

"Because you're so-- oh!" you gasp, feeling him tear the fabric apart and slip one finger between your folds, all warm skin and hard metal of his signet ring.

"What's that?" he slides in another, his voice soft but mocking.

"So… fucking cute when you try. It's-- fuck!- pathetic."

"Say that again." he curls his fingers in the way he knows would ruin you, and you nearly lose composure.

You take a deep breath. "I said, you look--"

He pumps in and out of you faster, rendering you incapable of finishing your insult. He spanks you again, one two three four more, harder, as if making a point. “Pathetic?”

Your jaw goes slack. You choke out a moan, as it slips out no matter how you hold onto it for dear life. He knows your body too well. Knows just how to indulge and give you a taste of sweet, sweet pleasure.

And how to deprive you from it.

He pulls away just before you reach the height of your high, and you cry out in frustration.

“Fuck you,” you spit out.

“Ooh, so mouthy.” he chuckles, returning his fingers into your pussy (as they should be, you think), and eliciting these mewls out of you. “I think I like these sounds better.”

He makes you gush with every lash of his hand on your ass. And when his thumb circles your clit in an unforgiving pace and pressure, everything goes out the window. The willpower, the stubbornness, the loathing. It’s just waves and waves of pleasure, pulsating from your core, coursing through your veins.

He draws out your orgasm until the waves turn into sharp jolts that tread between pain and pleasure. You grab his wrist, frantically pushing his hand away from your pussy because it’s too much fucking hell I can’t take it anymore Haz I swear to God--

(You say all of this in your head. You have a pride and reputation to uphold, thank you very much.)

As soon as he tears his hand away, you find yourself reeling, your chest rising and falling in exertion, body swaying off balance. He catches you just in time, arms steady around your torso, pulling you up against his chest, fingers soothing and teasing your hardened nipples.

“See, that wasn't so bad, right?"

You're still catching your breath. "Harrison."

"Yes, darling?"

"Fuck me."

You feel him smile, cold and devilish as always. "Say please."

"Fuck no."

He pinches your nipple and you hate how much you're willing to comply. It feels so good, and you need it so much, it clouds your better judgement.

"You're a dick."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"You're a dick, but I need your dick inside me." You grind your ass against his hard-on, smearing your arousal on the fabric of his pants, and you briefly wonder why the hell he’s still wearing them.

"Um, excuse you? This is bespoke Armani."

"Boo-hoo. Bill me your dry cleaning," you ignore him-- and the breathy groan he lets out when you slide down his clothed length. "Besides, you owe me new panties."

"Fair," he chuckles, patting your ass away softly.

You lie in the center of the big bed, the smell of fresh linen now mixing with his perfume and your lust. There’s a quiet lull where you do nothing but just watch. You’ve called him every name in the book --some in fits of rage, some in deliberate provocation, some in frustration… but you’ve never called him what you see time and again in these rendezvous.

His muscles, lean and defined, bathed in daylight. Silver cross hanging down his chest. Hair tousled by your frenzied hands. Lips tinted red-- swollen and smeared with your lipstick. Teeth bared on your breast, white against dusky brown. Eyes inviting you to get lost in them.

He looks beautiful like this.

“Fuck, you look beautiful,” he breathes out as he lines his tip at your opening.

Your heart stops, wondering if he’d read your mind, but you keep your cool. “Going soft on me, Harrison?”

“I’ll show you soft,” he brushes you off lightly, bottoming out in one slow, deliberate stroke.

His thick, hard cock is buried to the hilt in your warmth, and you waste no time grinding against his hips. Goading him to draw himself almost all the way out only to plunge back in. It’s fast and frantic and you find each other wanting more as you give more and more to each other.

The dull throbbing ache in your pussy runs in parallel with the sharp pain of your heels, drawing angry red lines on his back. And the more palpable the sensation, the more it fuels you on. In a moment of passionate frenzy, you flip him over and envelope his length between your nether lips. The arrogant smirk washes off of his fine features as you sink down on his cock and bounce on it like your life depended on it.

You tug at his necklace to bring his lips to yours, caving into your craving. How you’ve gone so long without this is beyond you. It’s disastrous and sinful and everything foul, and it’s easy to disdain in retrospect. But your heart can’t help screaming for it as soon as it remembers. And how could you not? What’s left of his is yours, and yours his, just as it was before. No matter how long ‘before’ was.

He’s insatiable like this. He wants your tits in his mouth, your hips keeping him in place, your hands all over his body. And he says it in every which way. Everything, but the actual words spoken out loud.

The thing is, he doesn’t need to. You understand. You map out every contour of his torso, alternating between the soft pads of your fingers and the sharp edges of your manicured nails. Committing them to memory; the taut lines on his stomach, the prominence of his pecs, the stretch of his collar bones.

His hand covers yours, enclosing around it and guiding it to the column of his neck. You don’t need much else to start squeezing.

You feel his Adam’s apple bob under your fleshy palm, and he lets out a strained breath.

“Harder,” he whispers, barely audible. “Just like that.”

You choke him just a little harder, watching him overcome with bliss as you make broken love to him. You plant a bruising kiss on his open mouth, breathing life back into him, and he falls apart inside you, taking you along, reaching the height of your highs together.

You slow down, taking in the rawness of your pussy as it pulsates around him. Watching him twist and turn, all wrecked and wonderful, curses spilling out of his mouth like it’s the only language he’s ever known. And you want that sight for yourself forever.

It’s different. Sure, you hate each other a little less after sex, that’s a given. But it’s never been this intense. And Harrison certainly never looks at you like this before. Like--

Like he wants you wholly.

Unbeknownst to you, right then, he realizes that you've been the base of his affairs-- many girls resemble your charm, your wit, your vigor. A pale comparison at best; they’re never quite you. And that’s all he wants.

He is hooked on your flesh, and he’s ready to lay his heart down along with the rest at your feet.

He sits up and kisses you softly, much too softly than you’ve ever shared. Too calm. Too peaceful. Too… intimate, given that he’s still inside you. You almost feel like you shouldn’t indulge.

“I’m gonna clean myself up.” you break away rather abruptly, untangling yourself from him.

“Oh. Right.” he takes his hands off of your thigh. “Still want that champagne?”

“Um… sure.”

He blinks, dazed at the sudden change in your demeanor. Confused. He just watches you rush to the bathroom, his cum still leaking down your thigh. He has half a mind to pull you back into bed and lick it clean, but then scolds himself. That’s not how things work between you guys.

“What the fuck, Osterfield? Get your shit together.” he murmurs to himself, pulling his pants back up and puts on his shirt. He saunters out to the balcony, bottle and flutes in hand.

He pops the champagne open (after a few minutes of pondering whether he should wait for you) and pours it into the glasses. Downs it in three big gulps in hope of calming these newfound nerves.

Doesn’t do shit.

“You started without me?” you pipe up, leaning against the doorway in his fluffy black bathrobe, hair all mussed up and smudged makeup somewhat wiped off. Your bronze skin glowing in the spring sun and post-coital bliss.

He thinks you’re the prettiest like this.

“You’re taking too long in there. Were you doing a shit or something?”

“Well, you made me look like a total mess, so... Gotta do some damage control.” you lie smoothly. Truth be told, you’ve just been standing in front of the mirror, wondering if maybe it’s best to just get the hell out before you ultimately decide to stick around. You thought, how hard could it be? Exchanging insults and borderline hurtful banters comes naturally with Harrison, no matter the occasion.

You forgot to take into account how good he looks after sex, shirt haphazardly thrown on but unbuttoned. 

He hands you your glass and you down it in one go. His eyebrows rise in surprise when you hand it back to him for a refill not even 15 seconds later.

“Hey. You okay?” he steals a glance as he tops up the drinks.

“Yeah. Since when d’you care, anyway?”

He shrugs. “Just doesn’t feel fair going against my arch-nemesis when she’s not at her best. It’s less fun.”

“Aww. You are going soft on me, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” he smirks coyly. “Maybe it’s just a ruse to let your guard down.”

“Oh? And then what?”

“I don’t know. Pull the rug from underneath you?”

It’s just mindless banter, you remind yourself. He’s said worse things more lightly in the years you’ve known him. But the more you try to convince yourself, the more riled up you get. You understand exactly what he means; he wants to make you fall in love with him, just so he can hurt you.

And the thought of that alone hurts.

So you want to hurt him back. Hurting is such sweet sorrow, especially when he’s enjoying it as much as you. Maybe even more so.

You come up to him, hands gripping his open shirt, pulling it down so you can capture his lips. Tasting of bubbles and sex. And just as he starts to kiss you back with as much fervor, you pull away.

“You wanna pull the rug from under me, huh?” you pull his hair back. “We’ll see about that.”

You kiss him one more time, sweetly on the mouth, before moving along his square jaw, sucking on the skin below his ear hard, prompting a hiss from him. He has a knack for leaving marks all over you, so much that it drives away the people you’re chatting up with. And through it all, he just looks on, smug as you come home alone for the night. Waving cheekily as he ushers some random girl into the passenger seat of his sports car.

Now it’s time for a payback. You’re leaving him hickeys he’d have no way of concealing, and you make sure he’s gonna feel them for days. The mark on the left side of his chest is a stark purple against his fair skin, and it sends a message, loud and clear, to his cock. His hips buck up against yours, desperate for some relief to this ache.

You come back up just to watch him. Watch how his bright eyes go dark and eyelids heavy while you palm him through the so-called bespoke Armani. Watch him chew on his kiss-swollen lip and leans back against the metal railing, one hand gripping the base of his champagne glass. You feel powerful.

“Fucking ruin me.” he groans, knowing he would just burst if you keep teasing him like that.

You're winning, and for the first time, he’s more than happy to admit defeat.

“Gladly, darling.” you mirror his drawl, using his favorite term of endearment for you. You never use pet names on him, too affectionate, but this rolls off your tongue really nicely. It feels right to say it in a condescending tone.

You get down on your knees and free his stiff cock from the strain of his pants. He can’t tear his eyes off of you even if he tried. The way your skillful tongue darts out to lick its head is divine, and when you take all of him in your mouth, he swears off all forms of worship apart from this.

The rest of his surroundings fade out forgotten. Damn the wide windows across the street. Damn all hotel complaints and grievances. Damn it all. You’re setting him on fire and he’d gladly burn in your name.

Your name.

He never calls you by your name, too personal, always resorting to darling, which somehow sounds sweet and spiteful at the same time. But that word just doesn’t seem like enough. Not now. Maybe not anymore. He’s been yearning for you, and it’s only fair that it’s your name he prays to. Moaning praises in a manic rhapsody. Begging for release, tasting the word please on his mouth over and over, until he empties out his desire in your mouth.

You return to your feet, standing tall in your heels, towering over his slouched frame. He looks at you in a mix of amazement and adoration, yet you decide you’re not done yet; you want to make him yours.

So you cup his face with one hand, signaling him to open. You watch him smile, wicked and knowing, as you spit in his mouth, giving him a taste of his own poison. He takes every single drop, eyes fixed on yours. When he has no more left, he takes the glass in his hand and empties it down his throat.

It doesn’t satiate his thirst. He doesn’t know why he bothered. He knows the only cure is you.

So he grabs the back of your neck and kisses you, hungrily. Desperately. For the longest time. Just getting lost in each other.

And then he says,

“Hey.” he calls out to you, softer than he’s ever spoken to you before. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You’ve heard him say this before. Out of exasperation, out of anger, but never out of… infatuation, or dare you say it, love. And you begin to question yourself, whether you really want to hurt him or was it a momentary lapse in judgement. His guard is all the way down, and you want nothing more but to run to him and cover him in your embrace.

“But oh, what a way to go, right?” he adds.

You simply answer him with a tender kiss. He’s allowed to have the last word. This time.

[Read Part Two here]

***

feedback is always appreciated! click here to add yourself on my taglist. or let me know if you want to be excluded from my taglist for whatever reason at all, no hard feelings ;)

Tagging  @halfblood-princess-505 @rebekkah4766 @galaxystern08 @the-panwitch @spiderbibby @angel-holland @averyfosterthoughts @u-rrose @clara-licht @bi-sk8er @tommysparker @riz-holland-osterfield @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @crazyshitinmontreal @tonguetiedholland @averyfosterthoughts @quaksonhehe @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh​ @spxder-bxcky @allegra-writes @hazmyheart @spideygirl2003 @angel-spidey @the-crazy-fanfictionist @fallinfortom​ @demureland​ @chaoticpete​ @terrifictomholland​ @hollandsamor @allmyspideys ​@fuckituplove @eridanuswave @danicarosaline @quacksonfics 💕💕💕 (I reposted it, so feel free to ignore if you have seen this!)

[mieczyhale]

~TUA Fic Recs~

for the @tuafeedbackfest !!!! there are so many amazing fics bc this fandom really is insanely talented - i wish i had the time to rec all of the ones i’ve bookmarked tbh - BUT as i don’t:: these are some of my favorites (ones i’ve read multiple times, ones that stuck with me, ones that have just a little extra.. Something??)

Amidst the Chaos by crazynadine [explicit. klave. vietnam] Ten months. Klaus spent ten months in Vietnam, fighting a war he didn't belong in, falling in love with a man he didn't deserve.The long and convoluted tale about how a time traveling junkie and a disillusioned solider found love amidst the chaos of war....

Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by @obliqueoptimism [klave. vietnam] Klaus says so many horrifying things so casually, and it makes Dave worry.

Bolt from the Blue by @ancientst / TheArchaeologist [mature. parent!klaus. five as klaus’s son] When they were sixteen Klaus successfully escaped for the night, and to celebrate went to the disco with a girl he barely knew. He was young, terribly misguided, but overall the night had been amazing.He just didn't expect to have a baby dumped in his arms nine months later.

can i be the only hope for you by @dancinbutterfly [explicit. klave. vietnam] Klaus is so special the pull of him is overwhelming. Dave doesn’t think he’s strong enough to resist his gravity. He’s too powerful. And fuck it, Dave doesn’t really want to. or (How a fairly ordinary soldier falls in love with Klaus Hargeeves, superhero, time traveler, and medium)

Choirs Threaten in Voices I Only Feel by @veteranklaus [teen rating. klave. typical hargreeves family nonsense] The last time Klaus saw his siblings was at Allison and Patrick's wedding. A lot had changed since then; including the not-so-accidental, irreversible loss of his sight.There's no time to tell them that, though. Not with the return of their long-presumed-dead brother and the impending apocalypse. Plus, it doesn't matter. He's got Ben as a good seeing-eye ghost.

Eggs Benedict for Breakfast by warmhandscoldheart [mature. klave. feral!dave. protective hargreeves] In which Klaus hits his head hard enough to get retroactive amnesia, and Luther does what he thinks is best.

Everyone Gets Here Eventually by @hermitreunited [mature. klave. ghost!dave. tw discussions of suicide] In the afterlife, all it takes to be with your loved ones is for both of you to want to be together. But for some reason, Dave hasn’t been able to reunite with Klaus, so he’ll do what it takes to find him. 

i’d rather lose my limb (than let you come to harm) by @bluebacchus​ [explicit. klave. au. chickens] How Klaus and Dave find each other in a corner of a foreign field in Flanders, 1917. (WWI AU) OR, A story of love, war, and chickens.

If Your Life Won’t Wait by queenbaskerville [teen rating. major character death. family emotions] When Klaus dies on the dance floor, God kicks him out of the afterlife. But she only kicks him out halfway.

i wore his jacket for the longest time by sharkhette [not rated. klave. tw temporary death] Klaus just wants to see Dave again, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen, no matter the cost. Includes conversations with Ben, Diego, God, a surly preacher, and gratuitous references to certain MCR songs. 

Neon Groves by Livijoyann [mature. klave. vietnam] Klaus Hargreeves travels back to the Vietnam War and falls in love with Dave... and we've seen almost none of it so far. Enjoy a full following of Klaus's time in 1968 from the first kiss to the first "I love you", and ultimately, to the end (with just about everything in between). 

Orange is the New Leather Skirt by Doctor959 [mature. typical hargreeves family nonsense. post-s1] A Misfits/Umbrella Academy crossover (no need to know either fandom to enjoy). The Hargreeves land by a certain community center and shit gets weird

The Light Behind A Cloud by @theseance1968 [explicit. wip. klave. vietnam] An account of Klaus’ time in Vietnam, on a diverged path where Dave survives his injuries. Flowered with opportunities, Klaus chooses to leave his old life behind and stay in the past with him. But how will his decision effect the timeline he abandoned, where his siblings continue to fight to stop the apocalypse in his absence?

The Shadows You Leave Behind by rarae [mature. brothers being brothers. tw discussions of rape and consent] The Hargreeves have stopped the apocalypse and have just returned to the real world from training Vanya in Five's weird pocket dimension. Klaus decides he needs to get some of his things to bring back to the academy and drags Diego along for the ride. They run into one of Klaus’ old ‘friends’ and shit goes down.

the war is over, we are beginning by @karturtle [teen rating. wip. klave. 2019. good brother five] The Hargreeves are slowly beginning to fix things after averting the apocalypse, but Five notices that something is still broken

Two Truths and a Lie by twosidedcoin [general. typical hargreeves family nonsense] “I want to go next,” Klaus announced, “Okay. My eyes are brown. I can see dead people, and I once offered sex to a drug lord to get out of his trunk.”Luther’s fist balled the paper into a ball as he snapped, “The point- Klaus- is to make the lie hard to guess.”Allison nudged Luther with her toe as she corrected, “His eyes are green.”

War is Hell by sauropod [explicit. klave. fix it-ish] Klaus' hands were still filthy with dried blood and muck as he fumbled at the clasps, the combination lock on the top. Desperate, blind hope had his heart going a mile a minute. The dial still read that seemingly random set of numbers it had the first time he opened it on the bus, what felt like a lifetime ago. 0213-18-02-1967“Please.” Klaus choked. “Please work.” He opened the briefcase.

Watch The Heavens (They’re Falling Down) by smile_it_will_get_better [teen rating. wip. typical hargreeves family nonsense] He reached under his pillow on reflex, and there was something there, something hard and rectangular and Five couldn’t help but pull it out.It was a package, encased in brown paper, a small tag attached to the side. Five thumbed it over, ignoring Luther’s inquiries about what it said.To Mr. Five Hargreeves, watch these if you want to survive the apocalypse.

We Only See Each Other at Arrests and Bails by icestorm238 [teen rating. brothers being brothers] aka the five times Diego picked up Klaus from the police station, and the one time Klaus picked up Diego.

Where’s Dave? by multifandom_damnation [teen rating. klaus centric. family emotions] Klaus has a flashback during family time and his siblings finally learn about all the horrific shit he's gone through, a heart to heart ensues and Diego proves how good a brother he really is. It's not a great revelation to have

Wild Eyed Boy by intheflowers [not rated. klave. slow burn. vietnam] Klaus dropped into Dave's life with a flash of blue light.It was the first time Klaus suprised him, but it was far from the last, and while at first he’d wondered if Klaus was maybe a little mad, it wasn’t long before he was certain that he really, definitely was.Not that it mattered much. Klaus had stolen his heart long before then. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -    ~FIC SERIES RECS~ It’s Not Living (If It’s Not With You) by @thefangirlingdead A series of moments between Klaus and Dave, during and post-season one. Definitely a fix-it universe dedicated to giving Klaus the happiness and love he deserves. Hope There’s Someone (Who Will Take Care of Me) by @siriuspiggyback baby that’s just how i am by princex_N He's the only one who tries to get used to it, because what other choice does he have? The others still wait, still ask when he'll be done playing around, still yell at him for being annoying, but no one seems to stop and realize that there's nothing he can do about it.Klaus gets used to it, but he's the only one who does.

[nataliamaximoff]

i was tagged by @romanoft and @gamoora to answer the following 73 questions, thank you so much, lovelies! ♡

on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now? 5

describe yourself in a hashtag? #underroverachiever

if you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be? today’s mood is tom hiddleston but usually it’s seb stan or dylan o’brien

if your life was a musical, what would the marquee say? “nowhere to go but up for this vaguely interesting young lady!”

what’s one thing people don’t know about you? nothing, i’m an open book, maybe i’m repressing something but it could be anything

what’s your wake up ritual? check my phone, snooze button, get up, go to the bathroom, get dressed, be a zombie

what’s your go to bed ritual? lay in bed on my phone for 2 hours before finally falling asleep exhausted. must have toes and shoulders covered and no fan on, completely dark room, no light

what’s your favorite time of day? 5pm

your go to for having a good laugh? scrolling twitter, celebrity interviews on youtube, or talking to my discord friends

dream country to visit? italy again

what’s the biggest surprise you’ve ever had? can’t remember any

heels or flats/sneakers? sneakers

vintage or new? new

who do you want to write your obituary? my friend or boyfriend

style icon? timothée chalamet, zendaya, taylor swift

what are three things you cannot live without? iPhone/laptop, food, my friends

what’s one ingredient you put in everything? black pepper

what 3 people living or dead would you want to make dinner for? anne hathaway, taylor swift, kaya scodelario

what’s your biggest fear in life? illness/infection

window or aisle seat? window

what’s your current tv obsession? the society still, but newly atla

favorite app? discord or twitter

secret talent? cartwheels and handstands

most adventurous thing you’ve ever done in your life? 2-week trip to france after graduating high school with my high school french class and french teacher. was so great and had many new experiences there, it was lovely.

how would you define yourself in three words? introspective, understanding, obsessive

favorite piece of clothing you own? a pink and grey striped sweater

a must have clothing item that everyone should have? exercise shoes

a superpower you would want? invisibility or reading minds

what��s inspiring you in life right now? quarantine tik toks

best piece of advice you’ve received? work towards your future

best advice you’d give your teenage self? put yourself out there, people aren’t as scary as you think

a book everyone should read? harry potter series or the book thief

what would you like to be remembered for? having integrity

how do you define beauty? truthful radiant being

what do you love most about your body? hair and skin

best way to take a rest/decompress? literally sleeping, reading

favorite place to view art? museums

if your life was a song, what would the title be? towards the grand design

if you could master one instrument, what would it be? guitar

if you had a tattoo, where would it be? would literally never have a tattoo, i hate them. if i had to, i would probably hide it on my inner arm or finger

dolphins or koalas? dolphins

what’s your spirit animal? a sloth

best gift you’ve ever received? that trip to france, it was my mom’s graduation gift to me

best gift you’ve given? anything i’ve painted for someone, i once painted a watercolor fox for my friend who loves foxes

what’s your favorite board game? carcassonne

what’s your favorite color? pastel pink

least favorite color? orange or brown

diamond or pearls? pearls

drugstore makeup or designer? i don’t know what this means but since i never wear makeup i guess drugstore

blow dry or air dry? air dry

pilates or yoga? yoga

coffee or tea? tea because bubble tea

what’s the weirdest word in the english language? idk there’s a lot, maybe “gibberish”

dark chocolate or milk chocolate? dark chocolate

stairs or elevators? lol elevators, i’m lazy af

summer or winter? summer

you are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat? apples

a dessert you don’t like? any fruit pie

a skill you’re working on mastering? time management, still

best thing to happen to you today? i finished my work at a reasonable time, so now i can play sims and do tumblr!

worst thing to happen to you today? my eyes were all dry when i woke up

best compliment you’ve ever received? i can’t think of a specific one, but i love when people make me feel valued

favorite smell? coffee or rain

hugs or kisses? hugs

if you made a documentary, what would it be about? library architecture around the world

last piece of content you consumed that made you cry? watched Survive on Quibi, starring Sophie Turner. i cried at the end

lipstick or lipgloss? lipgloss, but really lip balm cause my lips are CHAPPED

sweet or savory? savory

girl crush? phoebe tonkin, kaya scodelario, gemma chan, sophie turner, saoirse ronan, elizabeth olsen, zendaya, taylor swift

how do you know you’re in love? when you feel held by him, and he feels like home to you, instead of screaming with grief in a swedish commune

a song you can listen to on repeat? angel of small death and the codeine scene by hozier (or teenage dirtbag by wheatus lmao)

if you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be? spiderman or gemma chan

what are you most excited for/about this time in your life? paying off my credit card debt by working lol

tagging: @bvcks @nancybyevs and anyone who wants to do this!

[lenaandcalliope]

17 People - 17 Questions

Thank you for the tag @jiaraendgame

Answer 17 questions and tag 17 people! (please make a new post instead of just reblogging, please!)

Name: Ann

Age: 20

 Zodiac: Capricorn 

Height: 5′7″ 

Hogwarts House: I’ve never read HP or seen the movies so I have no idea. GASP! I know I know I think I’m just about the only person in the world who hasn’t

Last thing I googled: Orville Peck. aka gay cowboy man in a sparkly fringy zoro mask

Song stuck in my head: Heather by Conan Gray (I just saw that acoustic version he posted oh my god it is beautiful).

Number of followers: 66 and I have no idea why bc my use of tumblr is so sporadic

 Amount of sleep: 7 but I went to bed at 3:30 am soooo... yeah. I told my self when uni got out I would fix my sleep schedule but here I am only making it worse

Lucky number: 3

Wearing: Black athletic shorts and a black spaghetti strap tank top

Favorite Song: I can never pick one its constantly changing. Right now probably Canyon Moon by Harry Styles or  Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by Hozier

Favorite Instrument: Fiddle or Acoustic guitar, but I’m also a sucker for a good steel guitar

Favorite Author: As a child I loved Cornelia Funke but one of my favorites now is Barbara Kingsolver

Aesthetic: Geez, uhhh I don’t know. Preppy garden hippie? I literally have no idea.

Favorite Animal Sounds: My cats cute little snores or the sound of my dog barking in her sleep.

Random Fact About Me: I’ve never broken any bones or had braces. Literally a miracle bc my parents are klutzes with bad teeth lol.

I tag: I don’t know anyone who wants to, I’m not good at talking to people on here.

[bondsmagii]

angel of small death and the codeine scene, moment's silence, nfwmb, and talk

thank you!!

angel of small death and the codeine scene: Any addictions?

(I always��get this song stuck in my head when I read the title!)

anyway, nope! not anymore! I used to be hardcore addicted to caffeine and that was… a bad time tbh like it was such an unhealthy period of my life and I felt like shit all the time, but I managed to kick the habit. it seems like it shouldn’t be as serious as it was, but caffeine addiction is very fucking real and very fucking awful. it was so bad that when I quit (cold turkey; I just had Enough of feeling like shit one day) I ended up with the shakes, a constant headache, and auditory and visual hallucinations for over a week. it was actually kind of scary, but I’m glad I did it. I have it under control now, and having a cup of coffee on occasion now actually like, works.

moment’s silence: What do you find beautiful about the situation you’re in now?

I can have a lot of adventures if I want. like, there’s so much more opportunity to just go out and do things; I’m no longer as lethargic or unmotivated and I’m more willing to take a risk and try something out. even if it turns out to be shit or a waste of time, I still appreciate the journey and the attempt, and how fun it was to just get out and see new things. and seeing/doing new things doesn’t have to mean going far away, either – it can be trying new recipes and making it something that’s challenging or I wouldn’t usually dare try, or something like that. or it can just be driving around somewhere completely random and seeing some new scenery or spotting a new abandoned place to explore. I just like this… I don’t know, sense of infinity. there’s so much out there, you know, and I feel connected to it all.

nfwmb: Is there anything you would protect with your life?

if we’re talking strictly anything rather than anyone, I do have several ideals and values that I would be willing to die for if I had to. of course, I hope I don’t have to, but history has taught me that nothing comes for free. I’m not tripping over myself to be a martyr or anything, but if such a situation arose, it would be a necessity of sticking true to my morals. which is… a lot to think about.

talk: What’s your best friend like?

answered! but while I’m here I’ll talk about another close friend I have – @wintermutal. we’ve been talking for several years now (and our paths have crossed – often hilariously – multiple times before that without us even realising at the time) and he’s one of the most creative, funny people I know. I mean I’ve lost count of the times I’ve nearly fucking pissed myself laughing at some of the things he’s said or created. he also has one of my favourite qualities in abundance, which is the ability to take in new information (even if it’s not what he wants to hear) and seriously consider it and compare it against what he believes or already knows, which is something I really appreciate about him. I love his passion, I love his intelligence, and all around he’s a really cool guy. 

kinda weird hozier asks 🌳🐤

[mauratherudeteenager]

- Take Me To Church- Are you religious? No, not one bit.

- Work Song- Is there anyone you’d sing a love song to, romantic or platonic? Hmm... yes, my best friend.

- Someone New- Do you fall in love easily? No, but I do crush easily.

- Almost- Do you ever dance alone to music? Of course I do.

- Cherry Wine- Do you have a sweet tooth? Ha-ha nooo, why would anyone think that?

- Nina Cried Power- Do you participate in any activist movements? Not at the moment. I’m not afraid to share my opinions though.

- From Eden- Do you think theres “something tragic about this” life? I do. I realize school and education is a human right, and so is earning your own living, but we’re not really that free to live as we please. I find that extremely sad, that we don’t have as much freedom as we sometimes think.

- Movement- Do you perform in any way? I’ve started taking artclasses if that counts.

- Angel Of Small Death and The Codeine Scene- Any addictions? Biting my nails, I really can’t stop.

- Like Real People Do- Have you kissed people? Cheek kisses only :)

- Jackie and Wilson- Do you want kids? Not at the moment.

- Shrike- What’s your favorite bird? Ravens.

- Dinner and Diatribes- What’s your favorite food? I don’t know, I like all kinds of food.

- Moment’s Silence- What do you find beautiful about the situation you’re in now? That I’m really fucking scared, but I’m not fighting it.

- Would That I- Is there anything you wish you could change about the past? No, I would never change anything.

- NFWMB- Is there anything you would protect with your life? My best friend and my cats, ahaha.

- To Be Alone- Do you prefer other people’s company or your own? Depends. I can hang out with Hanna and/or Raven anytime, but I usually prefer to be alone.

- Arsonist’s Lullabye- Do you ever feel lost? Oh, all the time.

- No Plan- Do you believe in a pre-determined purpose in life? Not really, I think we create out own purposes.

- Sedated- What time do you go to sleep? Anytime between one and three am.

- As it Was- Do you go to many parks and natural places? Yes.

- In A Week- How do you want to die? Old and happy.

- Be- Have you changed much as a person in the last year? You could say that, yes. I’m a lot more confident now.

- In the Woods Somewhere- Have you ever had a supernatural experience? Several. When my father died, my phone clock stopped working and was stuck on the time when they’d taken him to the morgue. The lights in the house also blinked like all the time, and the entire house went black for seconds.

- My Love Will Never Die- Are you dating anyone? I kind of just started dating someone, actually.

- It Will Come Back- Do you like to write? I’ve written a book and I have plenty in the works.

- To Noise Making- Do you like to sing? I do, I’m not too good though.

- Talk- What’s your best friend like? She’s amazing, I don’t even need to say more than that.

- Nobody- Who in your life is important to you? A guy I just discovered I like and am ish dating, my three best friends, my mother, my cats, and my auntie (who’s really just my best friends mom)

- Foreigner’s God- Do you ever talk to yourself or something above? I think I talk more to myself than I talk to others.

- Sunlight- Do you prefer sunny or rainy weather, or somewhere in between? Rainy weather, preferably with a little thunder.

[catsiidhe]

tagged by: @marsdetective waddup

nickname: uhh i was marshmallow at 12, the squisher at 16, meme in college, and @susurrationofthewind calls me seersh

zodiac sign: leo

height: 5′4

hogwarts house: ravenclaw

last thing i googled: make polenta with milk

song stuck in my head: well i didn’t have anything stuck in my head, but this question pushed the “shuffle songs” button in my brain and now it’s heart skips a beat by lenka

following: 283

followers: 264 (i had over 1.3k on my old blog but i deleted it in 2016 rip)

amount of sleep i get: 8-9 hours, but which 8-9 hours is the real question

instruments: took piano lessons for a bit in elementary school until my little brother got better than me, played baritone horn for a couple months in 6th grade, own a ukulele now but don’t play it much, i am a pretty great singer though

random fact: last spring i went on a road trip with my dad through 7 states, and we had some adventures (including a man in salt lake city who had made the christian hell out of concrete in his basement)

favorite songs: rn i’m listening to angel of small death and the codeine scene, work song, and someone new (all by hozier) on loop, so probably those three rn. non-hozier favorite songs include the predatory wasp of the palisades is out to get us! by sufjan stevens and the child is gone by fiona apple

wearing: dress with an antique map pattern all over it & my denim jacket with cryptid patches all over it

dream job: international tour guide for atlas obscura!

lucky numbers: 14; my box number in college was actually 1414 and i took it as a very good omen

aesthetics: ms. frizzle, alien fangirl, cat lady

i’m gonna tag @susurrationofthewind @adoraborous @wickedcinnamonroll @sammyserket @charlemane @pink-aziraphale and if anyone else wants to do it i’ll add their name to the list and say it’s been there the whole time

[direful]

22 questions you didn’t want the answers to

tagged by @issun-boshi !! duel me please i miss fencing too

zodiac sign: cancer

following: 300

followers: 859

name: cayden, but I’ve been thinking a lot lately abt also going by victor bc had i thought of it when i was changing my name that’s the name i probably would have chosen

nicknames: only a couple people know me by a nickname so it’s not super relevant i guess

hogwarts house: slytherin, no contest 

favourite musician : billy joel for a musician / lord huron for a band

song stuck in my head : angel of small death & the codeine scene - hozier

last song I listened to: the moss - cosmo sheldrake

height : 5′5.5″ (the .5 is important.)

last thing I googled: “tudor flat cap pattern free”

amount of sleep : usually between 6 and 7 hours a night

lucky number : 116 or any multiple of 24

dream job: lighthouse keeper, carefree pirate, or fae knight (it said dream job...)

what I’m wearing: khaki pants with hems i embroidered and a blue and white button up shirt

instruments : harmonica for 2 months, toot toot babeys

dream trip : scotland for sure!

languages : english and some french, and a few half-remembered snippets from when i tried to teach myself quenya 

favourite song: poet - bastille

random fact: the only sports i’ve ever been good at have been the ones that involve weapons or actually perilous situations in some way. i’ve never gotten seriously hurt participating in them but every time i try a “normal” sport i end up bleeding.

im tagging @mycravatundone @snadwich @sneez @autistictheon @naradream1and , no pressure if you don’t want to though!