I'm Dead Now

[hiraethicheart]

Clint rolls his eyes because he knows what this is. There’s no winning here, not anymore. It’s either glitter or the threat of for the rest of the night. Fortunately, he’s got his own plan.

"Fine."

And of course the minute he opens it glitter is everywhere. Over his shoes, over his pants, floating up between them. His only consolation (why did he open it with his work boots on again?) is that Coffi’s shoes aren’t immune to the cascade either.

[notreallydead]

Coffi is bouncing the whole time, and when he finally opens it, the action is accompanied by a veritable squeal of excitement. Quite comfortable with a glitter cascade, and apparently intent on spreading it further, she swings her arms about his neck and drags herself into his lap. He might find the kiss a suitable recompense for humoring her, but her lipgloss is, of course, also full of glitter.

At least it tastes like cherries?

[photosetavenue]

[notreallydead]

Skater Dresses 

I am buying all of these.

[hiraethicheart]

"Not until I know it’s not glitter."

[notreallydead]

"Are you asking me to lie to you?" She wraps her arms around his neck and bats her eyes. The whole action is exaggerated, complete with a pout and the best innocent look Coffi can manage when trying not to laugh.

[hiraethicheart]

"I’m not arguing that. I’m arguing the implied innocence."

[notreallydead]

"You're not going to open it, are you."

[hiraethicheart]

"Pretty sure you made that Army Ranger blush last week."

[notreallydead]

"That's because I'm fucking cute."

[hiraethicheart]

"Swear it isn’t a glitter bomb."

[notreallydead]

"I am a lady. I don't swear."

[hiraethicheart]

"I’m just saying, if it’s a glitter bomb thing…"

[notreallydead]

"You won't know unless you open it."

[hiraethicheart]

"You wanna tell me what’s in here before I open this?"

[notreallydead]

"What? And ruin the surprise?"

[notreallydead]

If you haven't gotten into Electro Swing, you don't know what you're missing. Just saying.

[blackest-opsarchive]

Steele’s grip was likewise firm. Not vicelike, not uncomfortable, but definitely firm.

"Going to take a stab here and say that it’s not spelled like the drink."

[notreallydead]

"Close." She dropped the handshake with a smile. "Ends in an i, without the e's. And you pronounce the oh long. Am I to guess 'Steele' isn't like the metal?"

[hiraethicheart]

Clint groans, because he knows she’s speaking the truth right now. He’ll find it under his nails, in his sock drawer, on the strap of his quiver. A force so pervasive he’s pretty sure there’s still sparkling specks on the ceiling from the last time glitter was the theme.

"Stop giving me herpes," he whines, though the shove to her shoulder is halfhearted, preferring to keep their hands interlocked. "And the cat. We’re afflicted for life. We deserve better."

Still, he knows that glow to her cheeks and it’s enough to make him smile, warm and lazy. “Glad you had fun.” He leans up to give her a kiss. “You need food? Got pizza and Thai in the fridge.”

[notreallydead]

"If you love me, then you love me, glitter STDs and all." Her pout is comical, and she persists it through the kiss, making it rather difficult to pull off. "Still, it's good to know your regard for the cat has advanced from 'furry interloper' to 'partner in eternal suffering.'"

She's reluctant to disengage, even if takeout of questionable quality is calling her name from the other side of the apartment. She's high on stolen energy, and only the presence of the cat and Clint's questionable coherency so soon after being woken keeps her from simply dragging him off the couch and into a heady makeout session on the floor.

"Thai and pizza. You do know how to woo a lady." Reluctantly, she peels herself upright, moving to the kitchen. "Do you want any? And are there any containers of questionable content I shouldn't touch?" Clint did not always label things well.

[blackest-opsarchive]

"Sometimes I do. Not always. But sometimes."

The Wendigo extended a hand.

"Steele."

[notreallydead]

Her hand slipped into his without hesitation. Her grip was firm, and her smile bright. "Coffi. Nice to meet you, gruff."

[coldwindscutclean]

Visit Original Link

Bite Down (Bastille Vs. Haim) - Haim

[coldwindscutclean]

You’ve got your claws buried deep Bite down, bite down into me Bite down, bite down into me You better sink your teeth before I disappear Bite down, bite down into me

[hiraethicheart]

He snorts, not awake enough for the obligatory eye roll or crack about cat ownership (mostly how a dog wouldn’t cause these problems). But a hand moves to automatically scritch behind a cat ear, and the little hell beast stretches out a paw, batting Coffi’s cheek in the process.

A lopsided smile spreads at the fingers in his hair. A weakness for him and one that he knows Coffi knows well. If he minded more he’d point it out.

"Naw, nothing to worry about." At her look he’ll poke her cheek with a finger. "Promise. So you gonna kiss me an’ tell me about it, or just gonna sit there and vibrate?"

[notreallydead]

"Vibrating comes later, when you're more awake." She snorts back at him and his prodding finger, snatching up his hand and locking her fingers in his. "You're as bad as the cat, sugar. And you both have nap breath."

She kisses him anyway, rushing through s press of the lips and a light peck on the nose to get to the part where she talks about herself. "Tonight's theme was glitter. It fell from the ceiling. It's in my lip gloss. It's now on your mouth, and nose. And in your hair." She runs a hand over the cat, depositing glitter there for proof. "I swear, I'm going to be bleeding glitter for a week and you are going to love it."

[blackest-opsarchive]

A bit of a pause, there. Steele thought for a moment before responding. "I’ve always been a bit of an asshole. Well, maybe more than a bit." And Steele was rather opinionated about his music. After all, it was one of the few consistent pleasures in his life. The Wendigo returned the smile. "As for Sachmo, well… I’m of the opinion there are two kinds of people in the world.

"People who love swing and jazz, and liars."

[notreallydead]

Coffi seemed to consider this, hand on her chin as if deep in thought. Finally, her simple answer was, "You have a point."

[hiraethicheart]

When she comes back he’s stretched out on the sofa, boots kicked haphazardly onto the floor and the Star Wars throw tangled in his legs. The TV long since stopped playing anything interesting and even the cat is asleep (on Clint’s chest, though he’ll deny enjoying it).

The door closing wakes him enough to peek an eye open, a sleep muzzy greeting offered. “Hey, you. Wow ‘em all?”

[notreallydead]

Coffi is brimming with stolen energy. Borrowed. Collected. Whatever the turn of phrase used to justify it, she's practically glowing, which means there will be little rest for Clint in the hours to follow.

"Do you expect anything less of me?" She kneels at the side of the couch, leaning in on folded arms to purse her lips at him. "You let the cat take my spot. Now I can't move it. Laws of cat ownership." Her fingers filter into his hair. "Long day for you? Long night? Anywhere bleeding or tender I shouldn't touch?"

[blackest-opsarchive]

"I’m not going to pretend that I know anything about the genres you just mentioned. But I do have another question. And your answer might end up defining any future interactions we have.

"How do you feel about Louis Armstrong?"

[notreallydead]

"He has his place. But, more importantly, I believe people who judge others by their music taste are missing the point." She smiles at him, a flash of teeth. "How's that going to define our interactions, sugar?"