#not me answering spicy asks on the blog now! the walls are crumbling down!

[septembersghost]

since you are both harry and Taylor fan do you think Stockholm syndrome is about taylor? Harry said it was about a 'nympho' so I always thought it wasn't about her because I didn't think he would call her that in an interview. But after complicated freak was released I am on fence about it. SS sounds like having a kinky chained sex and some of tay's song about harry has a sexual element. And I can't imagine complicated freak being about anyone else as he was pining so hard for her during that era. (Also ignore this if you got my previous ask. I sent the same one but my phone had trouble so I don't think you got it)

i got them both! in the previous one you said, "I also saw someone saying it's from a pov of the guy in blank space(she is the predator he is the victim so a satire)," and i've never thought about it that way before, that's actually a really fun interpretation!

short answer is yes i do think stockholm syndrome and complicated freak share her as the muse. definitely agree that complicated freak is pretty unquestionable and that there wasn't anyone else at that time that he was pining so hard for or would've described in that way.

i consider a lot of the stuff thematically in stockholm syndrome (an absolute banger btw) to be more metaphorical "who's that shadow holding me hostage? i've been here for days," "baby, look what you've done to me. baby, you've got me tied down" to me are like, he's so in love with/infatuated by/attracted to her that he can't escape constantly thinking about and wanting to be with her. i don't think it's literal *rihanna voice* ~whips and chains excite me~ as much as it's like, "you're always on my mind and it's overwhelming (and when we're together it's really good)." the song has a lot of elements about fear of commitment and how she's flipped his world and that's exhilarating but somewhat frightening too ("i fear i'm getting used to being held by you," "used to sing about being free but now he's changed his mind." harry also borrows her trick of referencing themselves in the third person there, which she does again in question, i'm just noticing that!). there's a clear sexual component and he, well. he made that joke, but there's a deeper aspect to that too, where he feels like he and his world are being reshaped by the intensity of what he feels for her. ("all my life i've been on my own/i used the light to guide me home/but now together we're alone/and there's no other place i'd ever wanna go" - notice he goes from being on his own to alone together). he sung stockholm syndrome and if i could fly regularly when touring hs1, and of course that's because he wrote them, but the themes also fit well with some of the other songs about this from his debut record.

i think where do broken hearts go is another aspect of this as well and his side of things referenced in ootw/iwyw (counted all my mistakes and there's only one/standing out from the list of the things i've done/all the rest of my crimes don't come close to the look on your face when i let you go/so, i built you a house from a broken home, and i wrote you a song with the words you spoke...the taste of your lips on the tip of my tongue is at the top of the list of the things i want/mind is running in circles of you and me/anyone in between is the enemy/shadows come with the pain that you're running from/love was something you've never heard enough).

the allure/attraction/sexy element definitely appears a lot in her music about him too, even in a softer, more romantic way, the idea of the tide of that love pulling you back in shows up too (lanterns burning, flickered in my mind for only you). definitely why, when you lay their songs side-by-side, they take on that element of unspoken dialogue.

[hansoulo]

partial to the cavatina pt. 4 - (consumable)

Pairing: Javier Peña/f!Reader (sorry broskies)

Warnings: cursing? allusions to spicy times, mentions of drinking, mild spoilers for beginning of season 3

Word Count: 1.18k

Gif Credit: x by @pvscvls​ - lmk if you want it taken down!

A/N: i sat down to outline and then this happened. longer chapter as promised will come soon lol

masterlist  playlist

You did everything right, Peña. But now you’re all alone. Everything. Alone. Carrillo was long dead. Murphy was gone. And now Martinez was gone, too. Javier didn’t want to call you, to fuck you up with his problems. You deserved more than that. Than him.

He was trying to get better, he really was - for you as much as himself. But old habits die hard and the taste of smoke was familiar.

So he drank.

----------

“Javi?” Your voice carried over through the telephone, crumbling static. He didn’t really know why he picked up the phone, head still sloshing a leftover ache from the whiskey that never got put back in the cabinet. He just wanted to hear your voice, imagine what you looked like on the other end of the line. You hadn’t been able to see each other much the past few weeks, stolen kisses in doorways and quiet evenings in your apartment doing little to sate his longing.

It was strange, the way you appeared. Crept up on him as some beautiful, musical thing that he didn’t want to scare away with his footsteps the weight of concrete. It’d only been a month but he found himself making room for you, the little cracks left on his skin filled back in by a golden ichor that tasted like syrup and whistled when it rolled down his cheek.

You never really said you were dating. Were you dating? He’d like to think so. He wasn’t seeing anyone else, that was for damn sure.

“Javi, are we still on for dinner?”

Dinner. Shit.

He wiped a hand over his face, trying to smooth out the hitch in his words. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s been a long day.” He could almost see you on the back of his closed eyelids, sitting cross-legged on that tacky chintz armchair in your living room, one slow finger tracing the curl of your telephone cord. You had mentioned something about wanting him to meet your friends, other teachers at the school (one of whom was your roommate) who had no doubt heard every detail of your budding relationship. It was sweet, though. He liked that you had friends.

“Oh,” you breathed, trying not to sound disappointed. “Are you alright?”

Javier nodded instinctively before he realized you couldn’t see. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. Just tired.”

You snorted - a loud, unladylike sound that made his lips quirk up just a bit. “For someone who’s supposed to be DEA you aren’t very good at lying.” God, he would do anything for you. Did you know that? Did you know how the songs you played looped in his head for hours? How he tried to memorize every single one of your eyelashes when you smiled? How when he was around you, sometimes he couldn’t breathe? Did you know that?

He heard shuffling on the other end of the line. “I’ll tell them to go without us,” you said, nothing vitriolic tainting your voice. Work was never really a topic of conversation between the two of you. His work, anyways. It took up enough of his life without you having to be involved. You never pressed him about it. “Come over if you want, okay?”

The couch creaked as Javier sat up. “Okay.”

---------

“Ah, and the prodigal son returns!” you called out with a laugh as your apartment door opened, not looking up from your tiny kitchen stove. An apron was tied around your waist, some ridiculous, polka-dotted thing that looked straight out of the 50s. You turned when the lock clicked, watching as he slipped off his shoes. He made the mistake of not doing that the first time he came here and he didn’t hear the end of it for hours. No shoes on in the Palace.

The Palace, he remembered with a snort. Your name for the apartment was somehow the least strange thing about it. Loose papers covered your coffee, stacked high with books and baubles and tiny market trinkets. Every available surface was covered in gauzy scarves or knit blankets, absolutely none of them matching but still managing to feel right - even next to the weird decorative wall hangings in languages he’d never even heard of. And of course, the sheet music.

Javier wasn’t entirely sure what system of organization you had - if you had one at all. He was pretty sure you used coffee mugs as paperweights, but you seemed to always find what you needed so he didn’t say anything. It was a nice contrast to his own apartment, barely lived-in and sterile. Just a place to keep his socks and shoes before he left again. He could tell you loved your place, though. You made it a home.

“What do you think?” you gestured to the apron with a dramatic spin, the wooden spoon in your hand coming dangerously close to his nose. Javier reached to stop you before you hit him in the face, a calloused thumb pressing into the flesh of your palm.

He looked down, trying to conceal a grimace when he noticed the bright yellow ruffles. “It’s…”

“Absolutely atrocious, right?” you said, gleeful. “I love it!”

Trying to change the subject, Javier stepped closer and looked to the pot on the stove. “What are you making?”

“Mac n’ cheese,” you answered, smiling when his hands came to rest at your waist. He nosed his face into the curve of your jaw, mouthing an open kiss to the skin below your ear. You smelled like cinnamon. “Hey,” you tapped him with the end of the spoon, attempting to be stern. “You’re not supposed to distract the cook.”

“Really, now?” he asked, his hands wandering lower.

“It’s very serious business Javi.” He hummed in agreement, his lips still pressed to your neck. “Grounds for expulsion, one could say.”

“Expulsion?” Javier laughed when you yelped as he pulled your back into his chest. “What, am I your student?”

“Oh yes,” you snorted, mocking half-hooded eyelids and dropping your voice an octave. “And you’ve been very ba-”

Your words were cut off by a squeak when he bit the shell of your ear, chuckling warm chocolate in a way that made your stomach flutter. “You’re horrible at roleplaying,” you pouted as his fingertips dragged across the sides of your ribs. “I was supposed to seduce you with my scholarly discipline.”

“You’re wearing a bright pink apron and pajama pants.”

“And I happen to look very chic, thank you. If you want my food, you’ll have to learn some respe-” His lips met yours, deep and melting soft as the spoon clattered to the floor. Your fingers came to thread through the hair at the nape of his neck, everything forgotten except for the way he tasted like whiskey and something else heady, overpowering and enveloping until you grew lightheaded.

“Am I forgiven?” he mumbled against your lips. You cocked your head, faking consideration.

“Maybe, if you kiss me again, I’ll think about it.”

His voice vibrated against your back, soft and low. “I’ll have to do that then, won’t I?”

You smiled. “Yes, yes you will.”

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partial to the cavatina: @longitud-de-onda @way-too-addicted-to-anime @fleurdemiel145