#the air was full of various storms and saints

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

Love Songs and Shit (Extended Masterpost)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x YN

Genre: Angst, Hurt, Fluff, Smut (honestly it varies depending on the chapter)

Wordcount: if only I knew...

Plot: YN is a popular American singer-songwriter who, on a rainy evening in 2018, crossed path with the members of Greta Van Fleet. It didn't take long for the usually detached and fiercely independent girl to experience an unfamiliar itch. As she put pen to paper, it seemed a certain long-haired guitarist had her thinking about writing love songs and shit.

Concept: Each Album is a period of YN's journey, each track is a song she wrote after a specific chapter, so basically her discography is a chronological story of her life (with Jake, mostly). I'm currently not posting chapters in chronological order, but everything is organized in chronological order on this Masterpost.

Disclaimer: All the album covers are paintings by Norwegian painter Henrik Aarrestad Uldalen I edited. So, credit to that guy.

Also some chapters may involve triggering themes, I'll add the specific trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter. Stay safe, besties.

(PREQUEL)Debut Album: "Remain Nameless" => NOT YET STARTED

Old Money

Seven

Blue Velvet

Lost at Sea

Bel Air

South London Forever

This is what makes us girls

Dollhouse

All-American Bitch

Hope There’s Someone

Grace

idontwannabeyouanymore

Remain Nameless

Brutal

Rabbit Heart

National Anthem

2nd Album: "Sweet Nothings" => NOT YET STARTED

The Night We Met

Ride

Lover to Lover

Body Electric

Moves

Hiding

Hope is a Dangerous thing for me to have

Love Song

Sweet nothings

3rd Album: "Let the Light In" => NOT YET STARTED

Wildest dreams

All the girls you've loved before

Cornelia street

How Big, How blue, How beautiful

Dress

Love

Always Remember Us This Way

Let the Light In

Lover

4th Album: "How to Disappear" => NOT YET STARTED

The Next Best American Record

King

Brooklyn Baby

How to Disappear

Mariners Apartment Complex

Norman Fucking Rockwell

Watercolor Eyes

Sky Full of Song

One step forward, three steps back

Out of the woods

5th Album: "The Greatest" => NOT YET STARTED

Happiness is a Butterfly

Swan song

Too Good at Goodbyes

Favorite Crime

You're Losing Me

Without You

The Greatest

6th album: "Long & Lost" => IN PROGRESS

Hits Different (coming soon..)

Now that we don’t talk

Beautiful People with Beautiful Problems

Long & Lost (coming next)

Is it over Now? (coming soon..)

All This and Heaven Too

7th Album: "St Jude" => DONE

California

Secrets from a Girl

Style

The Way I loved You

St Jude

All You Had to do Was Stay

Honeymoon

Happier than ever

8th Album: "The End of Love" => ON HIATUS

The Bomb

Prayer Factory

River

All too well

Caught

Stargirl Interlude

Getaway car

Angels like you

Various Storms and Saints

Leave my Body

Cassandra

The End of Love

9th Album: "Dream Girl Evil" => NOT YET STARTED

Carmen

A&W

Hometown Glory

Dream Girl Evil

Swimming

Restraint

Sober

Sober II

Heaven Is Here

June

God knows I tried

Never Let Me Go

(SEQUEL) 10th Album: "Margaret" => NOT YET STARTED

Morning Elvis

Girls against God

Mama who bore me

Patricia

Did you know that there's a tunnel under ocean boulevard?

Kitsungi

Back in Town

I Drink Wine

Back to December

Margaret

[farrahda5hywrites]

Sin Nombre

Pairing: Aleksander Morozov(a) x Implied!Moon Summoner!Reader

Summary: Your life as a vagabond changes rapidly as you encounter a strong force.

Warning: None, I can think of. Can be read as a standalone drabble

Hey, so this ficlet was originally a little gift to @marvelmusing until I decided like a dingus to write a little sequel. Heads up, everything I know about Shadow and Bone is from Marvelmusing's writing and the vibes I picked up along the way. (Ben Barnes' depiction of the Darkling was very in line with one of my original characters from 2019, so I fell into this rabbit hole the gifs, my homie.)

Anyway, please enjoy this little drabble

When your kind fled, you couldn’t find fault in them. No one was left to be a voice for your people, and your people would most likely be the first to be captured and executed. So much had happened that you couldn’t tell what was rumor and what was truth. But still, you refused let fear keep you from finding a way to survive.

The guilt, however, swelled in your lungs as if you were being held underwater. You were cursed and blessed at the same time: Grisha blood, but couldn’t summon. Deep knowledge of powers, but could never manifest your own. Potential, but no outlet. You could be a great help to your people if only had something more to offer: a safe haven, food, or a warm cloak. You were a vagabond, a situation that left you cold but protected you at times.

What you could give was advice. Travel at night or at early dawn. Keep the little ones and your elderly in front of you so they don’t fall behind. When you get your powers, don’t use your powers unless absolutely necessary. Always keep your head up.

The advice wasn’t much, but it was what your mother and grandmother told you when you were young.

You got nervous when a family approached you, but something inside you immediately told you that they were Grisha. The Mother was the one who stepped forward and asked a question concerning travel.

You looked up at the sky. “It’s going to rain soon.” You said, smelling the scent in the air and examining the clouds. “Probably won’t be too bad. I’d keep going if I were you.”

With a small thank you in the form of a piece of bread, the family was off with the little ones walking quickly in front of their parents.

A few days later in the next town, a young couple approached you at night. Both of them looked ragged, and that nervousness filled you again. If the wrong people knew found you, you’d be dead. You knew down in your spirit they meant know harm, but you weren’t sure how much you could afford to risk your own safety for rest of your people.

After a brief stare down with the couple, the young man spoke to you. “We keep running into trouble, and we got separated from our group…we don’t know how to travel at night.”

You didn’t question him further on what exactly he meant. Instead, you pointed up to moon in the sky.

“If the moon is high, play it low. If it’s a Harvest, go slow. But if it’s full, then go. Everything in between will guide you. If you can’t see the moon in the sky, then you best stay put.”

The moon itself was full moon, and the couple spared a coin and quickly departed in the other direction.

The last of the winter wind was determined to toss you around like a leftover dry branch. You survived on the gifts from the various people you’ve helped and the advice you have given. Unfortunately, you never learned what do in the midst of powerful storm. The moon quickly disappeared while you were walking in the early morning way before dawn, and an impossible storm was chasing you down ready to overtake you to go about its destruction.

You make the mistake of looking down at your feet, and your body is thrown against a tree by the strong wind. The pain in your body rivaled a knife’s blade to the chest, hindering you from calling out for help from the Saints. The darkness overtook the area so quickly you almost couldn’t tell if your eyes were closed.

“What is your name?” The voice sounded so soft, yet deep that you swore you were hallucinating.

“I have no name.” It took you a moment to reply, but in the moment, you knew you were going to die.

With what ever strength you had in you, you were going to attempt to fight. You refused to be used an example to incite fear in your people.

“I heard that you’ve been helping Grisha, little one. Can you tell me when the storm will pass?”

Before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out. “This is not an ordinary storm. It will be short, but its effect will last for decades. No one will out run it.”

“I will find you again when I need you.”

Your vision returned as if the darkness and the wind hadn’t overtaken you. You stood in an empty field, moon shining directly on you. You looked around for any trace of what just occurred, but you found nothing.

You had a few hours until dawn, so you made your way back to your destination. The wind pushed by, causing you to put your hands inside your cloak. You felt a piece of loose cloth, and you pulled it out briefly and paused to take a look at it. The cloth was embroidered with a moon in eclipse: at least that was what you assumed it was. You swore you recognized the emblem, but you tucked it away and went about your journey.

It wasn’t until dawn that you realized you didn’t just meet an ordinary grisha, but one of the most important.

[timelostobserver]

@brokendreamscreation - Every step the young seraphim took was one step closer to finding his long lost brother! Thats what Lucid reminded himself as he hopped a few more times through the frozen wasteland, the cold having long since numbed his bare feet.

With each hop he fluttered his six wings for lift, each breath huffing and puffing wisps of clouded air. Lucid was determined to find Azrael and he would not return to Heaven until he did! Not like they knew Lucid was in Hell to begin with or looking for the fallen angel.

No one was stupid enough to travel here.

The frozen wastes at the very edge of Hell itself were not hospitable by any means. The neigh eternal cold and storms fueled by the fractured, buried remains of the fallen Angel of Death's own halo. And only prepetuated by said Fallen's own feelings toward the world around him.

Buried, eternally in work that never saw an end. Work only he was capable of doing. Souls didn't just 'appear' in Heaven and Hell, after all. Someone had to sort them, someone had to put them against a criteria and judge them accordingly.

And it was a thankless job.

On a rare moment, he found himself with free time. It was rare due to the sheer influx of souls that often graced the towering, black stone citadel that made up the Halls of the Dead. Built upon the very crater he created upon his Fall.

His free-time was spent outside. His coat hung around his shoulders, his deep red hair listing in the wind as one hand cradled a covered cup. Coffee, one of the few things he consumed, not out of necessity but of habit. Habit born of what he tirelessly worked to do.

It helped ground him, along with the shattering cold of where he lived and worked.

He'd simply stare out at the frozen wasteland, his mind wandering to various stray thoughts here or there. Looking back on the souls he'd judged today. So few sent to Heaven, so few sent to the Gates before Saint Peter.

The rest were doomed from the start, Sinners.

Movement eventually would catch him off guard. A pause as he'd been about mid-sip of his scalding beverage. Frozen.. like the ground itself.

Nothing should be moving out there.

He'd lower his cup from his lips as he looked out, waited even for what ever it was to come into full view. And what did, confused him.

Six wings, angelic hues... That didn't seem right. For Lucid, the terrifying, jagged spires of a looming citadel would come into view, a massive courtyard woven with cold wrought-iron gates that saw little use. Frozen over and piled over with snow.

And at the steps from the courtyard, under a small covering to a massive set of reinforced doors, sat a hulking figure, with deep red hair..

Looking right at him.

[rottenette]

and the air was full of various storms and saints 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ

[joshscurlyhair]

☽ 𝕞𝕪 𝕗𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣 - 𝕛𝕠𝕤𝕙 ☽

Summary: Meet Desta, an artist, a dreamer. Desta is Josh’s childhood friend. Desta just broke up with her boyfriend of three years and during that time she has hardly contacted Josh due to the fact she has had a crush on him since they were in elementary. With Desta single and Josh circling her mind, will they eventually become something more?

Warnings: Language, kissing

☾Join the Taglist!☽ : @angelqueen99 @jordierama

Word count: 1.9k

And the air was full

Of various storms and saints

Parading in the streets

As the banks began to break

And I'm in the throes of it

Flashback:

“ Get your shit! Get the fuck out of here! “

I couldn’t stop crying, tears fell from my eyes and my nose became runny as my cheeks flush a deep red from frustration

I quickly get my stuff to get away from this dick and headed out

And just my luck it was raining

“ Fuck! “

I start to think who the hell to call - “ Josh! “ I whisper yell at the thought of him. I quickly hit his contact and call him as my phone began to rang.

“ Hello? Desta? It’s been so long how have- “

“ Josh- I can’t make small talk right now- “

I began to sob. “ Drew, my boyfriend just kicked me out and broke up with me “, I say beginning to fully sob now. “ - Where are you Desta? “

I sent Josh the address and he was immediately on his way.

I sat in the rain as the negative thoughts start to consume me of what just happened

I put my hands on my face completely in distraught

BEEP BEEP

“ Get in! “

My face lit up when I saw Josh and I immediately got into his white jeep. “ Thank you Josh “. I say as I looked down slightly embarrassed. Josh then lifted up my face placing his fingers under my chin, “ Hey don’t ever feel embarrassed of this. None of this is your fault, it’s that dicks fault. I swear if I ever see him again- “ Josh stops and calms himself and starts to drive. “ The guys still with you? “, “ You know it! “ He responds. I give a light smile and kept my eyes focused on the road completely zoning out and letting my thoughts fill the void.

" Desta- "

I jumped at the sudden voice calling my name. I placed my hand over my chest and realized the car is now parked at the house

I guessed I REALLY zoned out

" Sorry-I guess I zoned out ", Josh gives a sympathetic look and motions for me to come in the house to get warm. I stepped out of the jeep and walked up to his front porch. " Gosh, let's get you inside you're freezing! " Josh says touching my hands and giving me butterflies. Josh opens the front door and we both stepped inside.

Josh scurries me over to the bathroom and instantly runs me a hot shower. He twists the knob on the shower and I slightly shiver standing behind him.

He stands up straight after getting the shower going and gives me a warm smile as I managed to send a warm smile back shivering my ass off. "Let's get you nice and warm. I'm gonna go and get you a fresh towel okay? I'll also bring your suitcase in ", I give a warm smile " Thank you Josh so much ", he nods and gives me a gentle and sweet look. He snaps out of it and says, "- Well uh the guys are asleep so you don't have to worry about them tonight- so uh yeah I'll be back in shortly, feel free to step right in and get warmed up " Josh says then stepping out and closing the door.

I started taking off my soaked clothes and set them on top of the toilet seat as I began to head into the shower. I stepped in and felt the hot water that landed on my skin. I let out a exhale of relief and began to wash my body.

CREEKKKK

I slightly jump at the sudden noise and look to my left and see the door slightly open a bit. " Hey! I got your suitcase and a towel " He yells over the sound of the shower running. " Okay! You can come in! " I replied. He comes in not looking up respecting my privacy and sets the towel down and moved my suitcase forward then closes the door.

I chuckle and continued to finish my refreshing hot shower

When I was done I stepped out and got ready into my pjs. I brushed my hair and placed my brush back into my suitcase. I gave myself one last look in the mirror staring at myself.

I walked out of the bathroom in comfy pjs and found myself walking into the kitchen where I saw Josh who was setting two bowls of soup on the table. He notices me and gives a warm smile. " How was the shower?! ", " Refreshing," I say walking up to the kitchen closer now. " I made us soup! The nice hot bowl will warm you up as well " He says motioning for me to sit down next to him that I gladly took a seat next to him and thanked him.

I take a first sip of the soup and smile feeling the hot liquid fill my mouth. " Good? " he asks and I nod taking another sip. There were a couple of minutes of silence that filled until Josh spoke up, " I missed you Desta " He says looking down at his soup. " I miss you too Josh "

" He didn't deserve you.. " Josh says looking down and getting slightly angry at the thought of him. I placed my hand on top of his calming him down and he instantly eases.

We then began to catch up for the remainder of dinner time

----

" - You can sleep in my room tonight. You can sleep on my bed and I can sleep on the couch " He says. " Josh I'm not letting you sleep on the couch," I say laughing. " Why not? ", " Josh.. Just sleep in the bed ". " Alright alright, " He says as we both headed under the covers a bit awkwardly. We both lay there for a minute in silence. " I think I'm gonna head to bed, long day. Thank you Josh for everything ", " Of course Desta " He says giving me a warm smile. I nodded back and turned to my side and closed my eyes

The next day:

I wake up to the birds chipping away and the sunlight that hit my face

I felt an arm around my waist and look to my side and see it’s a sleepy Josh that was basically cuddling me. I smiled and decided to lay back down and letting Josh continue to sleep

Gosh he looked adorable

I always thought Josh was cute. He never stopped being such a cute goofball

I chuckle at my inside thoughts of him, Josh slightly jumped at my sudden chuckle I made and held me against him tighter.

Do it Desta, make a move!

I placed a hand on top of Josh’s hair and started to play with his curls gently making him feel even more comfy and relaxed.

Too tempting not to touch

But even though it shocked you

Something's electric in your blood

Josh slowly starts to wake up, feeling him move his body slowly. “-Woah shit, I’m so sorry “ Josh says realizing he was cuddling with you and was invading your space. “ it’s okay… I didn’t mind “ I say blushing. He instantly blushes and stands up. “ How did you sleep? “ Josh says taking off his shirt as you started to stare at his body. There was a long silence that filled the air from you staring at his skin, muscles, fingers- “ Hellooo? Earth to Desta? “ Josh waves his hand in front of you. You snap out of it and immediately began to stutter. Josh chuckles knowing you were staring at his body. Josh puts on his classic white shirt and winked at me walking out of the room and into the living room where his brothers and Danny were

You began changing getting into your outfit of the day then putting on a little makeup and finishing it off with touching up your hair. You began walking down the steps heading the boys already chatting.

“ Desta!! Long time no see! “ Sam says setting down his orange juice cup. I reached to the bottom of the stairs, “ Yeah it’s definitely been a while, I missed you guys “ I say giving all the boys big hugs. “ We should totally celebrate! “ Danny mentions as everyone agrees. “- Guys you don’t have to- “, “ No we insist! We’re gonna celebrate of your welcoming here “ Sam comments as we all cheers with our orange juice cups.

———-

You could just feel Josh’s gaze on you tonight. It felt like lasers beaming into me.

I was wearing a sexy laced top that I’ve been dying to wear because Drew would never let me wear it anywhere and forced me to change.

“ To Desta “ Jake says as we raised our glasses of champagne. I smiled as we all took a sip. “ And fuck that guy “ Danny comments as the boys agreed and commented with a few yeah’s.

The night consisted of refills of sparkling champagne, Sam cheating in Jenga and belly holding laughs that would make us flop over the couches we were sitting on.

The whole time I felt Josh’s gaze still on me, I do have to admit we did catch each-other staring at one another from time to time and we would instantly smirk afterwards.

I headed into the kitchen to get another cheese stick that I unexpectedly craved for some reason. When I shut the fridge I saw Josh instantly on my left. I jumped and he chuckled, “ It’s just me mama “. He says in a seductive calming tone. I immediately began to get butterflies and my cheeks flushed a deep red. Josh smirked at your cute reaction and began to step forward closer to you and out his hand gently on your cheek. “ You have no idea how much I care about you..“ He says as he took my wrist and placed us in a room away from the guys.

“ You have no fucking idea how much I’ve hidden inside about you Desta “ Josh says looking me deep into my eyes. “ I know I may have teased you to the point where it was at times just straight up rude, I know I may have not contacted you in so long-not because I didn’t wanna talk to you it’s just I felt so fucking bad that I would sometimes act like such a dick to you. I’m so fucking pissed at myself I should’ve contacted you to see how you were doing because that bastard was hurting you all this time “

Josh put his hands on his face trying to hold his tears in from the overwhelming amount of feelings he’s having. I stepped closer to him, pulled his hands away from his face gently and put my lips on his instantly. Josh had wide eyes and was shocked if this was actually happening. He soon eases and deepens in the kiss pinning me against a wall and attacking me with kisses on my neck and whispering sweet nothings in my ear

“ i love you Desta. I’ve loved you for so long “

Did I hear that right? Did Josh Kiszka really love me?

Outside the world seems a violent place

But you had to have him, and so you did

( AN: Part 2 soon?? 👀 )

[buddieunderratedgem]

uncurling lifelines

Author: hymbeaux

Words: 7.9k

Submitted by Anon

Summary:

And the air was full Of various storms and saints

-

5 times Bobby Nash wasn't Buck's father, and the one time Buck called him Dad.

[aprylynn]

I’ve been tagged in so many things (not a complaint I LOVE YOU ALL FOR THINKING OF ME)

I can’t keep track of who tagged me in what but it was definitely Heather @wistfulocean Kayla @cordiallyfuturedwight Natalia @jiminsproof and Karen @sevencoloredstar (I can’t say enough good things about these people. 1000/10 would recommend 💜💜💜💜)

I’ll do these all on one post since it’s A LOT

🎶 Top 5 BTS songs. This is so hard and so unfair but here we go!

Trivia: Love. My always and forever favorite. The reason Joon is my favorite. This song wrecks me. I can literally feel it breaking my heart and putting it back together. Can we talk about how Joon is a lyric-writing genius because he’s a lyric-writing genius. The idea that we are all humans with sharp corners and straight lines and rough edges and we hurt each other when we interact with each other but love is the thing that makes us softer better versions of ourselves who don’t hurt each other when we encounter each other??? And tying it together with the similarities between the words human and love??? And the line about wanting to be apart of your book and getting involved with your novel????? I’m melting into a puddle as I type this...

Look Here. Did I mention that Joon is my favorite? Because his verse in this song is just wow... The whole thing is incredible and one I could listen to on repeat for ever.

Friends. Is a day even complete if I haven’t cried because of vmin??? They are the softest silliest friends. Imagine having your best friend write a song about your relationship that is full of memories and you get to sing it with them while holding hands and calling each other your soulmates. Only Taehyung can relate.

Love Maze. I could listen to this song on repeat for the rest of my life. Seriously. Play this song at my funeral.

Mikrokosmos. I cry so much because of this one. It’s so beautiful and comforting. The message and the feeling and how they all sound. It’s such a healing song that I really needed at the time I first heard it. 

***

🎶 Choose an artist you like and use the name of their songs to answer this as close to the truth as possible!

name of the artist: Florence + the Machine

what is your gender: Girl With One Eye

describe yourself: Mother

how do you feel: Hunger

describe your best friend: Which Witch

your favorite time of day: Only If for a Night

if your life was a tv show, what would it be called: Breaking Down

what is life to you: All This and Heaven Too

relationship status: My Boy Builds Coffins

what to you fear: Various Storms and Saints

***

Post your lock screen and home screen. They haven’t changed in years!!! My dog and a painting of my dog 🐶

***

Rules: go to pinterest and type in “[your name] core aesthetic” and create a moodboard using the first nine images. 

***

rainbow tags 🌈

❤️: LAST SONG YOU LISTENED TO? Trivia: Seesaw

🧡: IDEAL PIZZA TOPPINGS? Black olives

💛: DREAM VACATION? Scotland. Also I’d love to go anywhere where I can see and hug people I love who are too damn far away.

💚: EARTH, AIR, FIRE OR WATER? 🔥

💙: CARTOON YOU GREW UP ON? Animaniacs, X-Men, Transformers, Thundercats (I grew up with two brothers and one tv so I was often outnumbered)

💜: FAVORITE SCENT? Coffee

***

I think that might be it? Again thank you to everyone who tagged me. You are the loveliest. 

Tagging: @lauraperfectinsanity @sunshinerainbowsbts @hopeinthebox for any or all or none of these!!!w

[rufusrant]

Florence + the Machine - How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful: Album Review

Because I went the whole of Florence's birth month without dropping my irrelevant and unwarranted opinions on her ovure, I'm doing it now. Yay!

As usual, I'm reviewing the deluxe version of the album, along with all separate tracks that were released on other versions, so expect to see the Target-exclusive tracks. Demos however are omitted.

I originally also wanted to make the connections to Dante's Purgatory and the companion film for this album, The Odyssey, but realised halfway that I'd actually mistaken Purgatory for Inferno and had to scrap that because I WILL review music but not a poem I have never read. So instead, I shall only be reviewing this album for its music.

How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful: try saying that 5 times fast

#1: Ship To Wreck

This song has one of the most Florence-esque yet absolutely modern hot-mess origin stories ever: the gist is that Florence held a party, got drunk at the bar where they'd moved the party, covered Daft Punk’s Get Lucky in supreme party girl fashion, went home and then broke everything while water covered her floors. It’s more detailed in her interview with Ellen here.

The second this song started, I got the feeling of being plunged underwater. This is Hurricane Drunk’s older sister after a ferocious bender. It’s so infectious, swirling with self-destruction and stormy guitars and absolute RAGE. The glockenspiel is like air bubbles from where we gasp as we sink. As an opening song, it’s perfect in tone, placement, and as an introduction to the album: we can’t leave the water yet. We can’t stop a shipwreck while it’s happening. 9/10.

#2: What Kind Of Man

I LOVE when Florence goes extra rock. Here is a complete flash-bang where we’re pulled out from the water and immediately tossed into the inferno. The brass orchestration and Florence’s howling, angry vocals take the cake, and those lyrics are the cherries: about a man whose kiss sparks two decades of devotion but just can’t seem to make up his mind (OH.) about his and Florence’s relationship. There is no tender longing present; this is about all the old hurt that comes hurtling to the surface from the partners we’ve stayed just a tad too long with and are, somehow, still staying with. And I fuckin hear you, Florence. 10/10.

#3: How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful

Does Florence refer to the sky or her old love, the ocean? I like to think it’s both: this song depicts that rowdy, journeying feeling of going through a sudden/unexpected transitory period so well. The strings that blaze as she sings the song’s title just rip one through my heart, and the brass instruments return from the previous track, but are utilised for a more subtle, gentler sound. It’s nothing short of grand — but for me, the softer tone of this rather breaks the rock momentum Florence has been building for the last two tracks. 6/10.

#4: Queen Of Peace

Crashing back into fantasy and metaphor after some hard reality bites, we’re pulled back a little into the grandeur of Ceremonials with the grand production and full orchestra to make a modern medieval ballad, but it’s unmistakably a new era of Florence with the way she carries her voice like how a lonely queen looks over a dead field after the battle has ceased. This song is about a triumph, but a deeply bittersweet one at that. And I truly love it for that, because its the truth: what is a triumph without a hard-fought struggle beforehand? 9.5/10.

#5: Various Storms & Saints

I genuinely like the lyrics, but this melody… I always forget about this song as whole. Oops. That much I can say. It stays relatively downtempo and subdued the whole time. Florence’s vocals are the best part and she utilises the powers of her voice only when absolutely necessary, but this song just lacks the “big, almighty sound” that makes up all of the hits, so I’m sorry to say that this is more of a miss for me. 4.5/10.

#6: Delilah

I fucking can’t. This song destroyed me. That is to say: I love this. 

Drawing from the bibical tale of Samson and Delilah, Florence crafts an agonising, intense, total curb-stomper about feeling betrayed and yet being on the verge of breaking free. And it slaps so hard. The percussion combined with Florence’s high-strung, burning vocals make the song such a catchy, swinging, forceful cry. The video for this on The Odyssey is also my favourite of them all, with that heart-rending opening monologue, references to Pre-Raphelite art, and how the visual language of the story is employed. 10/10.

#7: Long & Lost

The most sombre song on this album. It’s also definitely a breather after the freedom scream that Delilah demands. Though it’s fittingly about retreating into some self-doubt, I quite like how this actually feels like a meditation of sorts; a glimpse into Florence’s head and heart as she ponders if going back to where she was is worth it, and laments that maybe it really is already too late. I think it’s rather beautiful, with an even more softened melody to accompany Florence’s dreamily mournful vocals. 7/10.

#8: Caught

Calling this a “livelier” song feels like a bit of a misnomer. Florence’s voice feels lighter and more active in this, but it’s ultimately still a song on the understated side about feeling torn between two extremes: being able to finally move on and holding onto something that hurts. I love how Florence name-drops Persephone, notable for being torn between two very different landscapes, to illustrate her point. The production on this track is one of my favourites — the minimalism applied to this is a sonic treat, and the focus given to Florence’s delivery is top-notch. 8/10.

#9: Third Eye

My personal favourite. This is genuinely one of the most cathartic and life-affirming songs I’ve ever heard. It’s got all sorts of upbeat vibes, spirituality, and an amazing outro that’s practically a mantra. But what I think really makes this song so powerful is how it's styled like a religious hymn— but instead of looking towards God, Florence actually implores us to draw strength and change from within ourselves, to forgive ourselves and love ourselves. God is great, no doubt, but maybe God has been within ourselves all along. 10/10.

#10: St Jude

Not gonna lie, this is where the album starkly loses momentum for me. Again. Why is such a solemn track right after the glorious Third Eye??? 

Of all things, Florence seems to turn back and contemplate her failed relationship once again — but that’s about it for its cons. I think the lyrics for these are great and Florence’s voice does some truly beautiful things, but its odd placement just makes it tank from its full potential. 5/10.

#11: Mother

This took me completely by surprise. I felt annihilated by the end of this. Not only does the album regain its streak with this one track, this song is also truly lyrically stellar and Florence’s voice kicks back into full rock gear straight on. The shifting tides of the instrumentals just score her so perfectly, it feels like we’re being pulled back into the Ceremonial waters for just an utterly rug-pulled-from-under-feet moment. It’s the epitome of that HUGE sound I’ve craved so much— and fittingly, it’s rather a despairing song once you actually read the lyrics. But hey, getting out of such deep water isn’t as smooth a task as it may sound. 10/10.

#12: Hiding

That pre-chorus is so catchy. In fact, this whole song is a proper dance number. So is Delilah but this is more lighthearted, arguably just as powerful AND it manages to retain all the refrains of a poem. It’s a song about being in denial and yet also acknowledging you’re in denial. It's so lively and is probably the song most likely to be played at a club (hell yeah the return of the tambourine), until you hear Florence’s outro at the end. Fuck. 8.5/10.

#13: Make Up Your Mind

What a heart-thrummer. The soft harp makes an unexpected but very welcome return on this absolute neck-breaker of a song, with Florence painting herself as an executioner ready to cut off her relationship— or is she? 

I love how this song incorporates the vulnerability of love and yet the utter ruthlessness that ultimately gets born when love morphs into resentment. When Florence demands that her lover lets her live or lets her love them it almost seems that even that’s lose-lose, with all the trimmings of a medieval scene with that unique, desperate and divine Florence-esqueness. Of course I fucking dig it. 9/10.

#14: Which Witch

Florence embraces the idea of martyrdom— specifically, being martyred by love. It’s such a tight, soaring, jumpy song about getting trialled for witchcraft/love, being miles away but having your love on your mind, getting tired of crawling all the way, and hurting from this so much that burning at the stake is seen as a reprieve. That’s a LOT. But Florence fuckin KILLS it. 

I love this song and think it’s genuinely an amazing song on its own, but am really conflicted about its placement as the album closer — because here Florence ultimately decides to continue her relationship, the very thing that’s been dragging her back into the water throughout the album. I think my thoughts on this change from day to day. When I’m feeling particularly mournful I think it's a perfect closer: it's better to hold onto any form of love than to never love at all. But when I’m not… it’s a gut punch, like it or not. Moving on is an emotional task that we all eventually have to undertake but may not succeed at. However, the duality of this very idea, I think, is what really draws me to this song. It’s okay to not fully move on. But it’s equally just as okay to hold out hope that one day, just maybe, you might. 10/10.

EXCLUSIVE EDITION TRACKS

#15: As Far As I Could Get

This is the PERFECT combination of Florence’s two song styles: epically full of grand, godly metaphors and modern everyday settings out of a contemporary novel. Florence talks about escaping the bustle of Los Angeles and manages to mix reverent nature and a gospel voice with the spectacle of passing by a Disney castle and the Pirates of the Caribbean ride so fuckingly well. I’m incensed that this isn’t on the standard album— perhaps because I find myself relating so much to this right now, but also because it’s a legit banger about actually being determined to escape and move on, being right in the middle of this arduous process, and still feeling that you haven’t gotten far enough yet. 10/10.

#16: Pure Feeling

…I feel so guilty about this. Florence conveys this great, wholesome message of how she loves the world and of how she learnt to during her year off with some lyrics that really lay bare this humbling, warm feeling. But I must admit that the effect’s rather lost on me when paired with the way the melody sounds. Florence also sounds like she’s on the verge of gasping — and not in the good way. 4/10.

#17: Conductor

The lyrics for this are so beautifully poetic. Florence calls back to the standard album’s laments about a lover’s crippling indecision and how she herself turns to songwriting to channel her emotions — much like how conductors conduct both music and electricity. We love a double meaning!

I love the strength of her voice here and the simpler no-frills arrangements of piano and strings that accompany her. I really wish that this could’ve made it onto the standard album too, but in a way I can also see why it didn’t. (Though I don’t really stand for that, it's thematically perfect and has a great Florence vocal, C’MON TARGET WTF) 7.5/10.

#18: Only Love Can Break Your Heart

A Neil Young cover. I’m a fan of the original song as well, and really feel that she did this one so much justice. It exudes a grace and a longing that just extrudes so much more prominently than the original. Florence’s vocals are so clear and carry the tune so delightfully that it loses none of its original melancholy and instead garners so much pure, pure beauty. 7/10.

Overview: What an album. It feels like a lightning strike, and that's already in the simplest of terms. I feel this album as a whole is about learning to let go and change for the better, even if we can’t fully bring ourselves to yet. But my favourite description of this album comes from Florence herself:

“Ceremonials was so fixated on death and water, and the idea of escape or transcendence through death, but the new album became about trying to learn how to live, and how to love in the world rather than trying to escape from it. Which is frightening because I'm not hiding behind anything but it felt like something I had to do."

Which brings us to F+TM's new logo for this era:

A search on Reddit proved that these two triangles are the alchemical symbols for air and water respectively — so this album is literally about the air above water. About rising above the surface. About being free of all that drags you down. 

Ceremonials may be the masterful album that says your grief and pain are valid and it’s okay to feel the way you feel, but How Big How Blue How Beautiful is the imperative follow-up that says: I want to heal. I will heal. 9.5/10.

Stream How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful on Spotify!

[arsonistsam]

And the air was full of various storms and saints

Praying in the street as the banks begin to break

And I’m in the throes of it- somewhere in the belly of the beast

But you took your toll on me, so I gave myself over willingly

Oh you got a hold on me

[matthias-meijer]

maze ( madlena. )

Maze: For a drabble of our muses going to a corn maze (Haunted corn maze optional) @madlenakovacic

"Is tonight the night you get me killed? It’s not like you haven’t tried before,” His hands were deep in his jacket pockets as he followed the Croatian through the thick corn stalks. When she had suggested a night out he had thought alcohol would be involved, maybe even that secret nightclub they never found last time, some danger that came in the form of local Russians wanting to stab them...but they were in the middle of a haunted corn maze and now his head was pounding with the force it was taking not to leave her in the middle of it all.

He’d spoken to the one person he’d needed to speak to, been reassured his life wasn’t completely ruined, but he was still so angry with the circumstances that he was finding it hard to enjoy the small things anymore. Bitter. That’s the place he was in now and Matthias wasn’t sure when he would ever leave that behind. Which is probably why he kept throwing little quips towards the princess. Before he could say anything else though some sort of witch popped out from his right. Her intent had been to scare him but Matthias just eyed her with an intensity that made the person back right back into the corn without another word.

“Madlena, whatever you were trying to accomplish with this it’s not working. Can we just get out of here? I’d rather be at that club you were talking about before.”

Fall Themed Drabbles!

[rpmemes-galore]

florence + the machine : how big, how blue, how beautiful album ... sentence starters

tw for alcohol & religion

“I know that you're hiding.”

“But you can't live on love.”

“Some things never sleep.”

“Did I build a ship to wreck?“

“But you took your toll on me.”

“It's a different kind of danger.”

“Get out, get up there instead.”

“The damage is already done.”

“Is it too late to come on home?“

“Come on, is this what you want?“

“What kind of man loves like this?”

“Don't make a shadow of yourself.”

“You could never make your mind.”

“Under starless skies, we are lost.”

“If you could just forgive yourself...”

“I knew that this would end in tears.”

“How big, how blue, how beautiful...”

“These hands are not fit for holding.”

“I am teaching myself how to be free.”

“Don't make the mountain your enemy.”

“Who's in control? Who's playing who?”

“Can you protect me from what I want?”

“Some things you let go in order to live.”

“It isn't any use. Somebody's gotta lose.”

“Hold onto your heart, don't give it away.”

“But still you stumble, your feet give way.”

“It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do.”

“Did I drink too much? Am I losing touch?“

“Outside, the world seems a violent place.”

“I know you're bleeding, but you'll be okay.”

“Now there’s a few things we have to burn.”

“'Cause when I sleep, I never dream of you.”

“'Cause there's a hole where your heart lies.”

“You do such damage, how do you manage?”

“Oh, what is it worth when all that's left is hurt?”

“The only thing that's certain is your indecision.”

“And I was making you a wish in every skyline.”

“What's with the long face? Do you want more?“

“Make up your mind, before I make it up for you.”

“'Cause I'm gonna be free and I'm gonna be fine.”

“I think you hide. And you don't have to tell me why.”

“I know there's a part of you that I just cannot reach.”

“We've opened the door, now it's all coming through.”

“And, oh, my love, remind me, what was it that I did?”

“Maybe I've always been more comfortable in chaos.”

“And, oh, my love, remind me, what was it that I said?“

“You don't have to be a ghost, here amongst the living.”

“I don't know how I don't just stand outside and scream.”

“Don't touch the sleeping pills, they mess with my head.”

“The chair is an island, darling, you can't touch the floor.”

“I know you've tried, but something stops you every time.”

“You don't have to let me in... Just know that I'm still here.”

“I can't help but pull the earth around me to make my bed.”

“How do you manage to have me crawling back for more?”

“Maybe I'll see you in another life if this one wasn't enough.”

“So much time on the other side, waiting for you to wake up.”

“And even though I'm grieving, I'm trying to find the meaning.”

“These chains never leave me, I keep dragging them around.”

“You saw the stars out in front of you, too tempting not to touch.”

“And I'm in the throes of it, somewhere in the belly of the beast.”

“You deserve to be loved. And you deserve what you are given.”

“And my love is no good against the fortress that it made of you.”

“Without your love, I'll be so long and lost... are you missing me?”

“Come on, is this what you want? 'Cause you're driving me away.”

“I was moving like I didn't care, but it was more than I could bear.”

“Oh, the king gone mad within his suffering, called out for release.”

“Between a crucifix and the Hollywood sign, we decided to get hurt.”

“You wonder why it is that I came home... I figured out where I belong.”

“While you've been saving your neck, I've been breaking mine for you.”

“I'd already had a sip, so I reasoned I was drunk enough to deal with it.”

“You were on the other side, like always, wondering what to do with life.”

“And the air was full of various storms and saints, parading in the streets.”

“It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do, to try and keep from calling you.”

“Tell me you see it, too. We've opened our eyes and it's changing the view.”

“I'm ready for you whenever, whenever you need, whenever you want to begin.”

“Sometimes you're half in, and then you're half out, but you never close the door.”

[ladydaemon]

hi could you do headcanons that are set in the grishaverse and after KoS and RoW abt nikolai and readers(she/her pronouns) wedding and what happens the day before, day of, and after. thank you

A/N: so i haven't read ROW yet,,,,, i'm sorry y'all but i'm broke af and am waiting for it to come out in softcover so this is an AU where everything with the darkling and shit doesn't happen and there's no demon but the characters are there??? if that makes sense

Warnings: swearing, innuendos because nikolai lantsov, i think that's it

okay so it's the day before

the past five months have been the most exhausting ever

nikolai has been doing the guest list and making sure there are guards at every entrypoint

and picking out the decorations because we all know his taste is immaculate

you've been making sure the staff is on point, picking out exactly what color rose you want, and making the plan for what's going to be a ten-course meal (while trying not to serve anything that will offend the foreign missionaries)

genya and nina have been planning the honeymoon of course

you and nikolai are not allowed to know anything about it

anyways, its the day before, and its honestly not as hectic as you thought

its kinda like the calm before the storm

it's starting to freak you out

and you're in your room that's made for a queen, freaking out about becoming a queen, and also knowing with absolute certainty that something about to go wrong

and then

lo and behold

the man in question slips into your room

and he has the most worried look on his face and you want to cry because he's going to say something horrible like he wants to take the proposal back or the giant ice sculpture of vasily fell down

you actually wouldn't mind the last one but-

but he just sits on the bed next to you and hugs you and buries his face in your hair

because of course he knows that you're about to tear you hair out with nervousness

and that would be bad considering that this is pretty much a global event

and oh look you're spiraling down again

and you're just wondering why the fuck would the literal king of ravka want to marry you

when nikolai heaves you up and fucking carries you out your window

keep in mind you are at least five stories up

and he's somehow shifted you onto his back

and now he's climbing down the trellis, laughing as you let out a string of curses in various languages

he is laughing

and saints you want to smack him but you're dangling at least fifty feet in the air

no you are not looking at his muscles flexing underneath his shirt why would you do that

and then you're on the ground again and you move to shriek in his face when he kisses you

like

he kisses you

homeboy legit pins you to the wall

and suddenly you can't think straight and everything you were just worrying about goes fwoop out the window

well you're outside so there isn't really a window but you get what i mean

and now this man has the audacity to smirk and say 'i thought that'd get you stop overthinking'

this time you actually do smack him

he yelps in mock pain and you laugh

and then he chases you around the garden

that is conveniently placed under your room for the night (you are now realizing he planned it all, and aren't sure if you want to kiss him again or smack him again)

and when you're done you sit under a tree and he tugs you into his lap until zoya finds you and separates you for the night

and then nina comes in and slows your heart rate and forces you to go to sleep so that you can look your best because 'it would be inappropriate if i looked better than the bride'

and then you wake up and it's the day of and a herd of servants drag you out of bed at the buttcrack of dawn

and now you're wondering if you can call off the wedding because there should be absolutely no reason to wake up this goddamn early

but genya ushers them out and gives you a tonic while nina fusses over your hair

they help you slip on the giant-ass dress that you look gorgeous in

and then

there's literally nothing to do for the next two hours

zoya and alina slipped in the room and then the girl gang was all together

you played a couple rounds of truth or dare (nothing that couldn't be done in a wedding dress without getting it ruined)

stuff you learned: alina had once broken her leg climbing a tree, nina had once bribed a cook to give her waffles with a button and then burned the kitchen down on accident when the cook had refused, and zoya had gone through a phase where she would steal genya's lipstick and write creepy messages on the tailor's mirror with it

stuff you had to do: give alina your candy stash (you were not happy about this), genya had to give herself bangs, zoya had to fistfight nina, and nina had alina get her cookies from the kitchen

nikolai tried to sneak in a couple times but was forcibly escorted from the hallway every time

nina and zoya frog-marched him back to his room every time before he could see you while alina and genya giggled with you

the girls swooned again at how pretty the lantsov ring looked

and then they got ready

nina is wearing a jaw-dropping red ballgown with an almost inappropriate neckline

genya has on a simple shift dress that's halfway between a carrot color and cream

zoya's wearing a midnight-blue suit with silver cuffs and accents

and alina's wearing a gold dress with a ridiculous amount of tulle

they all look prettier than you and everyone spends half an hour complimenting each other

but then it was time and your stomach dropped into your fancy shoes

and suddenly you were walking down an aisle with zoya on your arm and

then

time

stopped

you don't think you had ever seen nikolai this nervous

in all the years you had known him, you had never seen this expression on his face, this mix of nervousness and anticipation and elation and sheer love

any doubts you had ever had about rushed away in that one instant, when you saw that puppy-dog look on his face, the way his eyes followed you and only you

however you are also noticing how hot he looks in his suit with all the fancy ribbons and medals

and then a thought so ridiculous and unprompted popped into your head and you wanted to laugh

because the term sobachka never fit more perfectly on nikolai

his eyes were wide and he looked vulnerable and innocent

he wouldn't be that innocent later that night in bed though

and then he made a fancy speech and kissed your hand while you looked on adoringly

and then he gave you a chaste kiss while you both said i do and the crowd went nuts, cheering and whooping and hollering

and then this bastard actually booped your nose

everyone awwhed while you blushed furiously

and then you got to throw cake in nikolai's face

it was fun

and then you and the girls started a full-on food fight

zoya nailed you in the tits

and nina somehow got nikolai in the crotch, cackling the whole time

there was frosting in genya's hair and alina was using mal as a human shield

and then the tidemakers melted the ice sculptures to make snow

so the whole party became a cross between a food fight and a snowball fight

and at the end everyone was soaked and covered in food and laughing their asses off

and what you thought was going to be a very stiff and formal meeting turned out to be the best night of your life

[thus-said-the-soul]

“The air was full of various storms and saints.”

Latin: Caelum erat plenum variorum tempestatum sanctorumque.

Greek: ὁ οὐρανός ἐγένετο πλήρης τῶν ποικίλων τῶν χειμώνων καὶ τῶν ἡρώων.

— Florence and the Machine, Various Storms and Saints (2015)

[lady-of-glass-and-bone]

Songs & Characters Pedro Pascal

How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful / Florence + The Machine

I listened to the whole album and each song, sometimes specific lyrics, made me think of certain Pedro characters. I have no explanation, I just felt like doing this. I plan on doing the rest of Florence + The Machine’s albums with the Pedro boys. Maybe after that with different artists/albums and characters, maybe some Marvel or slashers? Send in your thoughts and some requests?

Lyrics and their characters below the cut because I have no self control.

Ship To Wreck / Javier Pena

And, ah, my love remind me, what was it that I said? I can't help but pull the earth around me to make my bed And, ah, my love remind me, what was it that I did? Did I drink too much? Am I losing touch? Did I build a ship to wreck?

What Kind Of Man / Dave York

And with one kiss / You inspired a fire of devotion that lasts for twenty years / What kind of man loves like this?

To let me dangle at a cruel angle / Oh, my feet don't touch the floor / Sometimes you're half in and then you're half out  / But you never close the door

How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful / Ezra

Between a crucifix and the Hollywood sign, we decided to get hurt Now there's a few things we have to burn Set our hearts ablaze, and every city was a gift And every skyline was like a kiss upon the lips And I was making you a wish In every skyline

So much time on the other side Waiting for you to wake up So much time on the other side Waiting for you to wake up Maybe I'll see you in another life If this one wasn't enough So much time on the other side

Queen of Peace / Din Djarin

His only son Cut down, but the battle won Oh, what is it worth When all that's left is hurt

Like the stars chase the sun Over the glowing hill, I will conquer Blood is running deep Some things never sleep

And my love is no good Against the fortress that it made of you Blood is running deep Sorrow that you keep

Various Storms & Saints / Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels and Maxwell Lord

You don't need no edge to cling from / Your heart is there, it's in your hands / I know it seems like forever / I know it seems like an age / But one day this will be over / I swear it's not so far away

Whiskey / But still you stumble, feet give way Outside the world seems a violent place But you had to have him, and so you did Some things you let go in order to live While all around you the buildings sway You sing it out loud, who made us this way I know you're bleeding, but you'll be okay Hold on to your heart, you'll keep it safe Hold on to your heart, don't give it away

Maxwell Lord /  And the air was full Of various storms and saints Praying in the street As the banks began to break And I'm in the throes of it Somewhere in the belly of the beast But you took your toll on me So I gave myself over willingly Oh, you got a hold on me I don't know how I don't just stand outside and scream I am teaching myself how to be free

Delilah / Marcus Pike and Frankie Morales

'Cause I'm gonna be free and I'm gonna be fine (Holding on for your call) / 'Cause I'm gonna be free and I'm gonna be fine(Maybe not tonight)

Marcus Pike / Strung up, strung out for your love Hang in, hung up, it's so rough I'm wrung and ringing out Why can't you let me know?

Strung up, strung out for your love Hang in, hung up, it's so rough I'm wrung and ringing out Why can't you let me know?

Frankie Morales / Too fast for freedom Sometimes it all falls down These chains never leave me I keep dragging them around

Now I'm dancing with Delilah and her vision is mine (Holding on for your call) A different kind of danger in the daylight (I can never let go) Took anything to cut you, I can find (Holding on for your call) A different kind of a danger in the daylight (Can't you let me know?)

Long & Lost / Dave York and Javier Pena

Dave York / Lost in the fog, these hollow hills Blood running hot, night chills Without your love I'll be So long and lost, are you missing me

Is it too late to come on home Are all those bridges now old stone Is it too late to come on home Can the city forgive, I hear its sad song

Javier Pena / I need the clouds to cover me Pull in the dark, surround me Without your love I'll be So long and lost, are you missing me

It's been so long between the words we spoke Will you be there up on the shore, I hope You wonder why it is that I came home I figured out where I belong

Caught / Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels and Max Phillips

Whiskey /  As if the dream of you, it sleeps too But it never slips away It just gains its strength and digs its hooks To drag me through the day

And I'm caught I forget all that I've been taught I can't keep calm, I can't keep still Pulled apart against my will

Max Phillips / Then you leave my head and crawl out of bed You subconscious solipsist And for those hours deep in the dark Perhaps you don't exist

And I was thrashing on the line Somewhere between Desperate and divine I can't keep calm, I can't keep still Persephone will have her fill

Third Eye / Frankie Morales, Pero Tovar, Javier Pena, Maxwell Lord

Frankie Morales / Don't make a shadow of yourself,always shutting out the light Caught in your own creation Look up, look up! It tore you open And oh, how much

'Cause there's a hole where your heart lies And I can see it with my third eye And though my touch, it magnifies You pull away, you don't know why 

Maxwell Lord / You don't have to be a ghost here amongst the living You are flesh and blood And you deserve to be loved and you deserve what you are given

'Cause your pain is a tribute The only thing you let hold you Wear it now like a mantle Always there to remind you

St. Jude / Ezra, Dave York, Din Djarin, Marcus Moreno

Ezra / Another conversation with no destination Another battle never won Each side is a loser So who cares who fired the gun

And I'm learning so I'm leaving And even though I'm grieving I'm trying to find a meaning Let loss reveal it Let loss reveal it

Din Djarin /  St Jude, the patron saint of the lost causes St Jude, we were lost before she started St Jude, we lay in bed as she whipped around us St Jude, maybe I've always been more comfortable in chaos

Marcus Moreno / And I was on the island and you were there too But somehow through the storm I couldn't get to you, Oh St Jude, somehow she knew And she came to give her blessing while causing devastation And I couldn't keep my mouth shut, I just had to mention Grabbing your attention

Mother / Javier Pena, Ezra, Pero Tovar

Javier Pena / I put my feet into the fountain The statues all asleep No use wishing on the water It grants you no relief

Mother, make me Make me a bird of prey So I can rise above this, let it fall away Mother, make me Make me a song so sweet Heaven trembles, fallen at our feet

Ezra / Oh lord, won't you leave me Leave me on my knees Cause I belong to the ground now And it belongs to thee

And oh lord, won't you leave me Leave me just like this Cause I belong to the ground now I want no more than this

How I long for the older The sun keeps burning deep Every stone in this city keeps reminding me Can you protect me from what I want? The love I let in, it left me so lost

Pero Tovar / Mother, make me Make me a big tall tree So I can shed my leaves and let it blow through me Mother, make me Make me a big grey cloud So I can rain on you things I can't say out loud

All these couples are kissing And I can't stand the heat I lost my shoes and left the party I wander in the street

Hiding / Frankie Morales, Marcus Moreno, Din Djarin, Maxwell Lord, Javier Pena

Frankie Morales / I know that you're hiding I know there's a part of you that I just cannot reach You don't have to let me in Just know that I'm still here I'm ready for you whenever Whenever you need Whenever you want to begin

Din Djarin / I know you've tried But something stops you every time You cry a little So do I So do I And it's your price That's keeping us still so far apart But if you give a little So will I So will I

Maxwell Lord / I know I seem shaky This hand's not fit for holding But if you let me, oh I will see you're wrong

Tell me I will be released Not sure I can deal with this Up all night again this week Breaking things that I should keep

Javier Pena / I think you hide When all the world's asleep and tired You cry a little So do I So do I I think you hide And you don't have to tell me why You cry a little So do I So do I

Tell me I will be released Not sure I can deal with this Up all night again this week Breaking things that I should keep

Make Up Your Mind / Pero Tovar, Max Phillips, Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels, Dave York

Max Phillips / I never thought that I'd be facing A sea that's bluer than the tide Now my knees are shaking And I can't look in your eyes

But if you're gonna make me do it How'd you want it done Is it best to sip it slowly Or drink it down in one

Make up your mind Let me live or let me love you While you've been saving your neck I've been breaking mine for you The power is on, the guillotine hums My back's to the wall, go on, let it fall, oh Make up your mind Before I make it up for you

Whiskey / I never thought I'd be a killer Cause there's so much to lose But if I can't drink the water What else can I do

And although the axe is heavy It just sits in my hands While you're changing like the current Not a shore on land

Every time I try to bring it down You always turn my head around

Pero Tovar  / The executioner's within me And he comes blindfold ready Sword in hand And arms so steady Every time I try to bring it down You always turn my head around But every time I try to bring it down You always turn my head around

Which Witch / Dave York

And it's my whole heart Weighted and measured inside And it's an old scar Trying to bleach it out

And it's my whole heart Deemed and delivered a crime I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out

Who's a heretic now? Am I making sense? How can you make it stick? Waiting 'til the beat comes out

[peggyrose19]

Picture Frames and Ocean Waves

Heeheehee we’re back with some St. Tweedle angst, part 1. This is not related to the newest chapter, although there will be something coming at some point related to that, don’t you worry :) Anyway, here’s Saint looking back on the day Luke left for university.

song for this fic: Castaway - 5SOS (i did say ages ago it had rk vibes)

characters by @lumosinlove. tagging @im-oknutzy-trash and @wonder-womans-ex my st. tweedle partners in crime.

Saint stared unseeingly out at the ocean. The waves crashed and melted into each other, the same grey-blue as the sky. It was cold out, what passed for winter fast approaching as September came to a close, but Saint didn’t notice the chill in the air. Nor did he particularly care. Luke’s house loomed behind him, empty save for the housekeeper, busy somewhere in the heart of it. His mom was somewhere; Saint didn’t particularly care. He cared far more about where Luke was, hundreds of miles away at university. 

That last summer had crept up on them fast. Saint had always known he’d never be able to leave the island, at least not for long. And he’d always known Luke would never be able to stay. He had just never imagined it hurting quite so much.

“Hey, Tweedle,” Saint sang, pulling himself easily through Luke’s open window. He left it open a lot these days. 

Luke didn’t look up from his laptop sitting before him on his bed. “Hey.”

Saint peered over his shoulder. “What’re you working on?”

“Nothing,” he replied tersely. “‘M waiting.”

“For?” Saint prompted. It was like pulling teeth with him sometimes. 

“Decisions come out today. This is my first choice school.” He gestured to the screen, and Saint squinted at it. 

“Oh.” Saint felt something welling up in him, some foreign feeling that choked the air from his lungs and made his heart constrict painfully. He decidedly did not like it. 

“Yeah. Should be out in-” Luke glanced at the clock- “two minutes.” 

“So why are you looking now?”

Luke glanced away from the screen to glare at Saint, who just smirked at him. 

“I hate it when you make sense,” he grumbled. Saint grinned, and leaned down to press a quick kiss to Luke’s lips. 

“Bet I can distract you for the next, hmmm 90 seconds,” he murmured. Luke looked as though he wanted to protest, but Saint cocked an eyebrow, and he seemed to give in, tilting his chin up again to catch Saint’s lips once more. 

Saint had always loved kissing Luke. He was warm, comforting. Familiar. Even that first time, pushed against the wall in this very room, wrists pinned under Luke’s strong grip. Or the second time, being pelted with wind and rain in the middle of the ocean, torn apart by the storm too soon. They’d kissed many times since then, more than kissed, and yet it never got old for Saint, never lost the magic and comfort Luke brought. 

“Mmph, gotta check,” Luke muttered against his lips, pulling Saint from his thoughts. Saint rolled his eyes, Luke already turned away. He raised a hand to his lips, the taste of Luke still on his tongue. 

He watched lazily as Luke refreshed the page, logging in once more with a frustrated groan. But his fingers froze on the keyboard as it loaded and a letter popped up on the screen. 

“I got in,” he breathed. “I got in.” He turned to Saint with wild eyes, a smile alighting his face, and Saint didn’t know what to do with that.

He tried for a smile. “Well, of course you did Tweedle.” 

In the next moment, Saint found himself in Luke’s arms, falling awkwardly back against the mattress. Luke held him close, and as his body shook, Saint realized Luke was laughing.  

“Why are you laughing?” Saint asked, pulling back as best he could to see Luke’s face. His eyes held more joy than Saint had never seen in them. 

“Cause I fucking got in! I’m going to fucking university, Saint!” 

“It means you’re leaving.”

That was the thing, wasn’t it? Luke was always going to leave, the island, his family, Saint. For a while, Saint had had a chance at keeping him. With his father in prison, Saint knew there was no chance of him leaving. But then he was released. And then arrested once more. And Luke had given up. 

And Saint had lost his chance.

He wanted Luke back. He wanted him home and safe and in his arms, not off at some fucking university with strangers and a new city and not him. Of course, Saint would rather be caught dead than admit that. 

He’d said it anyway. And then Luke had left.

The sun had long since set when Luke said goodbye. Saint stood beside him on the beach, watching the calm waves lap at the shore. He held tightly to Luke’s hand. 

“I don’t want you to go,” Saint had whispered, words getting washed away by the breeze. But Luke heard him. He always did. 

“I know.”

Saint hugged wryly. “You’re still going though. Aren’t you?” 

“I have to, Saint. I can’t go back now, it’s too late. I leave in the morning.”

Saint squeezed his eyes shut, fighting down the fear and anger and pain that threatened to well up and spill out, refusing to show all the terrible weakness he always kept hidden. 

But Luke always seemed to know, as he reached out to cup Saint’s cheek, warm and comforting. Saint turned into his hand, but said nothing, refusing to look at him. He knew he’d only find pity and sorrow in those eyes, and that would only make him break. 

“Saint. Look at me.” Those nimble fingers lifted his chin until their eyes met. Saint immediately wanted to look away. “Don’t be mad at me. Please.”

“Why not?” 

“Because, Saint! Not all of us can just stay on this fucking island! I get that you have some twisted need to stay here, but I can't. Okay? I am not you. I have to get out. And this is my way.”

Saint stared at Luke with wide eyes. He rarely snapped. Last time had been almost a year ago, at James’ house, right before that cursed storm had hit. 

“Fine.” 

And he turned and walked away.

When Saint looked back on it, he wished he hadn't left. He wished he’d stayed, or turned around as Luke called after him. 

He wished a lot of things. 

With a sigh, he turned his back on the familiar sea and walked across the Deveaux’s perfectly manicured lawn towards the house. He crept around back, to the familiar window always lit with golden light. Luke had left it open. 

Saint eased the window open and climbed inside, flipping on the lamp on Luke’s bedside table. The room filled with light, reminding Saint of late summer nights spent lying on Luke’s bed together, sometimes reading, sometimes kissing. 

With a sigh, he turned to Luke’s desk, and the scant few items left there. A lamp, a few pens and pencils, various knick-knacks, a few books, some photos. Saint’s gaze stopped on them. The top one was a picture Luke had taken back in February. It was of him, flipping off the camera with a smirk. 

He remembered that day. The two of them had fallen asleep on the beach that night, woken at dawn by the sunlight. Saint had sand in his hair, blown to the side by the wind. Luke had smiled at him for a long moment, sun lighting up his eyes, before pulling out his nearly-dead phone and snapping a picture. But not before Saint flipped him off. 

He hadn’t known Luke printed it out, wasn’t actually sure how he’d done it. There were others, of the beach, of the lacrosse fields, even one of the two of them together. He didn’t know why he’d left them there either. Or maybe he did. 

Saint felt… lonely, without Luke. He had no anchor anymore, left adrift at sea, abandoned. He couldn’t help but compare Luke to his mom, leaving him behind with barely a backward glance, never giving him a second thought. It hurt, in a way he hated himself for, hated his mom and Luke and everyone else for. Not that they’d truly done anything wrong. Or maybe they had. Saint didn’t know anymore. 

The morning Luke left, Saint waited for him at the docks. Boat was the only way off the island, with the airstrip long out of commission. Saint had watched Luke and his mom pull up, her car looking shiny and new as it always did. Luke had climbed out with barely a second glance, tugging his backpack and suitcase out of the trunk. Saint guessed one didn’t need much at university. 

Luke didn’t see him, but that was intentional. Saint didn’t want to be seen. The night before seemed so far away, so different from the morning. He didn’t know how they’d gotten here, avoiding each other, hating each other. Well. Pretending to hate each other. Saint could never truly hate him. 

With a sinking feeling in his chest, Saint watched Luke climb onto the boat and disappear below deck. He felt like a cliché movie character, waving their lover off to war or some shit, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. Even with Luke out of sight, that pull stayed, long after the boat pulled away and became a small dot on the horizon. 

He had turned away angrily, pretending the tears in his eyes were from the wind or the pollen.

His heart had cracked, the day Luke left. A part of it sailing off to some other country, some other continent. These days Saint couldn’t quite decide if he wanted it back or not. He wanted Luke back, more than he truly cared to consider. But he had given Luke a part of himself knowing full well what it might mean, what it might lead to. And he’d done it anyway, choosing to trust him in what may just have been the stupidest move in his life. 

One day, he’d come back. As Saint sank into Luke’s desk chair, the picture in his hands, he could only hope that was true.

[jetaime-jespere]

Various Storms and Saints

Narcos - Javier Peña / Helena

At first Javier thinks he imagines her, as if she’s nothing more than a figment of his own weary mind, a byproduct of the years that run together like a painting that’s gotten wet, colors running together, edges curling at the sides.

I am ridiculously nervous about posting this, as I have written solely Hotchniss/CM for over a year and never thought about writing anything else, let alone Narcos of all the things. But, this somehow solidified itself in my head over the last few weeks (there is a nearly complete chapter two as well) and here we are. These two deserved so much better than what they got in the show. There are some trigger warnings for references to and mentions of past assault and trauma with this story, consistent with what happened in s1e2, along with angst/references to drug use and violence. This is actually posted on ao3 under a different username but I might transfer it to my main ao3 account at some point. The first chapter is under the cut! 🙂

At first Javier thinks he imagines her, as if she’s nothing more than a figment of his own weary mind, a byproduct of the years that run together like a painting that’s gotten wet, colors running together, edges curling at the sides. He always expected the past to catch up to him, somehow, yet she is the very last thing he expects to see in the middle of a farmer’s market just outside of Laredo on an unnaturally chilly November Saturday morning. This is south Texas, for fuck’s sake, he thinks. His head still throbs with the lingering haze of too much whiskey, as if such a thing could exist by now, and the cool air does nothing except make him feel even more numb. He was never expecting her.

Helena.

Why he’s even here is lost on him - a favor to his father, one he remembered at the last possible moment when he’d awoken that morning with a splitting headache. His mouth was dry, his stomach churning as the sun bled into the sky, the empty bottle and an ashtray littered with cigarettes not far away. But he went, because he’s watched his father age before his own two eyes, knowing innately the small act in and of itself will save the aging man a bit of his much-needed strength for later on. Javier meanders aisles with the same sharp eye of his father to find the best produce hidden while hiding bloodshot eyes behind his aviators.

He’s lost in his own thoughts - the trancelike state he often falls into when he thinks of how things panned out - right back to where he started all those years ago. How close he got to Escobar, at the expense of so much, only to not actually get there at all. The phone call from Murphy, relaying the news of the shootout and his death, plays on loop in his mind, coupled with the endless droll of the smoky bar, the plague of relief and satisfaction and a hint of jealousy, a tightening in his chest he wasn’t sure what to do with. He still doesn’t know what to do with it all - his life or lack thereof.

“Excuse me,” comes the soft, raspy voice from the much shorter person beside him reaching around for tomatoes. It renders him frozen; it takes him right back to Bogota, to the confined four walls of his apartment, a sanctuary in the middle of a fiery hell. A voice Javier was never able to forget. The voice in his dreams and his nightmares, even if the latter was more frequent. The voice that brings a memory of her, wrapped around him, or vice versa. Those images are vivid - laying her back on his leather couch to savor the last few moments inside of her, his teeth scraping her chin as tremors ran through her, a blissful smile on her face. The brace of her knees against his hips as she sat in his lap, full of him, his hands guiding her hips as she rocked over him, her fingers digging into his hair in the hours he spent between her legs, coaxing release after release out of her.

Your hands, she’d said once, her Colombian accent thick in the hazy, smoky dark of his apartment. He knew what she was thinking. How could hands like his - ones that touched her tenderly, reverently - wield a gun with exact precision, be responsible for the deaths of so many. How do you do it? She’d asked once, cradling his right hand in her own much smaller ones. He didn’t have an answer, he just passed his flask and reached for his wallet. He never asked where the money went, just that she took it. Only when he was in way too deep did he realize he didn’t care about the money. And only after she was gone did he admit to himself he never actually cared about it at all.

It can’t be. “Helena?”

He turns a little, shuffles his feet. And there she is, not at all imagined but in fact very real, close enough to touch. There’s an audible gasp that comes from her, one of her small hands clamping over her mouth as the other tightens around the seam of her jacket. It’s because she recognizes him immediately, as she tilts her head back to meet his stare, the sun reflecting on her dark brown hair like a halo.

It’s been years, he’s lost track of exactly how long. Years to bury that night in Medellín that has never gone away. But it managed to haunt him forever. They’d been moments too late. If only, he thinks a lot. If only he said no, if he refused to put her in harm’s way. If only they’d been faster. He could have saved her from the hell he’d found her in, from what came after. It’s her face he saw with every arrest he made, every step they took closer to Escobar, as if each was somehow done for her, revenge for what she endured, not for the good of a nation under siege.

But there she is, in Texas of all places, mere miles from where he’s essentially started his own life over, clearly having done the same. She was right there all along, a woman he once knew and yet, doesn’t anymore. Gone are the impractical shoes and heavy makeup, the confidence she exuded even with the dangers of her profession withered away. He always admired her for that confidence - he never told her as much, though. She’s wearing a casual jacket and jeans, simple shoes and barely a stitch of makeup. Her hair is a little shorter and lighter; it looks different but he can’t figure out why. He never paid much attention to those things. He’d always liked this Helena better - without the painted facade of lies she concocted to stay alive. He never told her that either. There were a lot of things he never said, things he should have told her long before it ended.

“Javier.” It’s slow, drawn out, as if she’s learning how to pronounce it for the first time. “It’s … what are you …-” she stumbles over a greeting as her head starts to spin, not unlike his own. She’s clearly overwhelmed by it all. She swallows hard, takes a few wary glances around. “You’re .... how?”

“I live here, remember?” He immediately regrets it; maybe she doesn’t want to remember any of it. So he backpedals, lowering his sunglasses to offer a kind smile. “My family is from Laredo.” He’d told her some things about himself during the times they were together. Not much, but he’d found himself asking her things - seeking more, something they could never have, yet he sought nonetheless.

“I remember.” She studies him, the weight of her gaze familiar, taking in the lines that have deepened in his face. They mirror the ones on her own, the culmination of it all having taken a toll over time. “You’re not there?” She means Colombia, he realizes. She’s asking why he’s not in Colombia.

“I live here now too.” His tone answers her question more than his words do. “Have for a little while now. I had no idea you were in Laredo.” It seems too close for comfort; he would have demanded she be further away from the border, for her own protection. Those details hadn’t been shared with him. He hadn’t asked.

“Maybe conduct this little reunion somewhere else?” An older woman clears her throat, arms crossed over her chest, clearing her throat to make her presence known behind them. “Some of us are trying to … you know. Keep things moving around here?” She means no ill will, yet it’s as if they’ve been caught doing something they shouldn’t, as if everyone in their vicinity is watching.

It’s the way Helena startles at the woman’s sudden intrusion that splinters his chest a little bit as a quick apology falling from her lips. The subtle tremble that racks her shoulders for a brief moment before she steps away, granting the other woman access to the tomatoes they’ve both forgotten all about. As they walk away he wonders, before he can stop himself, just how much she’s struggled, how unbearable it must have been to start over as she had, after what she’d endured. He has hard questions that undoubtedly have no easy answers.

A few steps from the aisles is a tree, providing reprieve from the early morning sun. They find themselves there; he leans against the tree and tucks his sunglasses into his shirt pocket. Helena keeps her distance, an arm’s length away, arms crossed protectively over her chest. Whether it’s subconscious or not, it deepens the crack in his chest that being in his proximity might make her uneasy. But they’re out of earshot of others now, and Helena speaks again, choosing words carefully. She’s guarded, cautiously aware of her surroundings, he notices - constantly looking over her shoulder, nervously toying with the ends of her hair.

“I’ve been here since I left Colombia.” She pushes her hair off her neck, drags her finger along the row of tiny hoop earrings at her ear. “We, I mean.”

She means her son. Hearing that he’s safe too is a relief. “How is he?”

“Good.” The mention of him brings a smile to her face; it’s been so long since he saw her smile. Something inside of him aches when he sees it, like he doesn’t deserve to. Javier remembers the way she beamed with pride when she’d told him one night that he called her mama for the first time, the guilt in her eyes when she explained the little boy stayed with her sister when she worked. He’d be at least 5 now, he reckons. “He’s good.”

“And you?” What he’s asking is a loaded question. He isn’t owed an answer though. His culpability in it all can’t be denied; he pushed it for information, to get closer to Escobar and she agreed because she believed it would be her out, that he would follow through on his promise of getting her to the US.

In some cruelly fucked up way, she got her wish in the end.

“I’m okay.” Good seems too generous of a description, and anything less than okay would shatter him, Helena knows. Despite the transactional nature of their relationship, it eventually morphed into something more, something that, had the circumstances been different, could have worked, maybe. It takes more effort to smile this time but she does, even though she knows he’ll see right through it. Her last memory of him isn’t a pleasant one; thinking of it makes her vision blur and her hands tremble with the moist rush of bile in her throat. He’d carried her from that disgusting warehouse, doing his best to calm her down and failing miserably. She clung to him, trembling and shell shocked silent, only to become hysterical once outside in the cloyingly oppressive Medellín heat. It was his face she saw when she felt the pinch of a needle in her arm and a heaviness in her veins, an apology written all over it. It was the very last thing she remembers before the sedative took effect and the world went black.

When she woke up more than twelve hours later in a narrow bed at a hospital, she was alone. Alone as she had always been, except this time it set into her bones and never quite left.

“That’s good.” He doesn’t believe her. How could he? She’s lost weight since then - she’d always been slender with delicate bones and narrow wrists - once he remarked how he could fit both of them in the span of one of his hands, then did just that as she writhed beneath him - but now she’s more borderline gaunt, with sharp collar bones and sunken in cheeks. “Good.”

“You?” Helena twists the cuff of her sleeve around her wrist, a nervous habit. She didn’t expect it to physically ache when she looked at him, but she never expected to see him again, either.

“Good.” Javier fumbles in his jacket pocket in search of a cigarette. The pack is empty; he curses. There’s a thick silence, full of everything that isn’t said, what never got to be said. Maybe had he been fucking honest with her none of this would have happened. “God, Helena, we used to be better at this.”

Her eyes well with unshed tears. She thought by now she would have run out of tears by now. “We had more practice then, Javier.” The expression that ghosts over her face is wistful with remembrance for that night, the night that started all of this. When they played their hand so horribly wrong. “Remember?”

He remembers it all, every last detail. It seems like a strange twist of irony that they ended up in the same place after all this time. He’s too jaded to think it could possibly be fate, something that was meant to happen all along.

But then what was it?