#my music taste is so fucking old cries

[randombush3]

labor omnia vincit

alexia putellas x reader

words: 7538

summary: well, it’s how you meet your wife (posh + becks style)

content warnings: a little bit of drugs and alcohol

notes: HEY HEY HEYY. this is a TRILOGY and here’s the first part. enjoy the build up x

2015. London. 

You groan at the thought of singing another word. The mug set haphazardly on the ledge reserved more for instruments than crockery, half in the air after the last time you returned it to its place, is now empty. There is no hot water left to soothe your burning throat, and there is no patience remaining in your finite store. 

The girls, on the other hand, seem to soldier on. A harmony is incorrect? They sing it again. The producer, a fat old man called Dave whose taste in music might rely on his taste in women, isn’t a fan of a certain beat? They are thinking of ways to change it. 

Ever since your single was released two years ago, this has been your life. Or, at least, the less glamorous side of it. The other side, consisting of sold-out arenas, exclusive clubs, and a world tour that only increased your total domination over the music industry, has been paused while you and the girls slave away on the second album. Apparently, you’re being uncooperative. You would call it boredom. 

“It’s four in the morning, Dave,” Anya states, jabbing out her index finger towards his Rolex, paid for with the revenue from the last single you released. It topped the charts for days. Dave glances down at the clock face with a grunt. “Look, Y/n’s already left us and gone to bed.” 

“Still here,” you murmur, rather unconvincingly, from your spot on the far-too-comfortable sofa behind the mixing desk. Sprawling out even further, you wrap your legs around the third member of your group, Gio. She squeals as you pull her on top of you. “I want to go home, though.” 

“Don’t we all know it,” Gio giggles. She’s had at least six cups of coffee since you arrived at the studio for the second recording session of the day – a solid nine hours ago. That was only after a break for a late lunch or early dinner (whichever your dietician preferred to call it). 

“We need to finish.” 

“I need to sleep,” you reply. Gio scrambles off you in time to avoid the glare you are sent by your producer. “And I’m not sleeping here again. Last time it gave me a crick in my neck and I’m fairly sure the cleaner felt me up.” 

“The sexy cleaner is mine,” Anya declares, jerking you upright. Your stomach lurches with emptiness. “Otherwise, I agree. Let us fuck off home. Please, Dave.” 

He looks at the three of you, bags under your eyes, making long rubbed off (or cried away, in Gio’s earlier over-emotional state). You have changed out of the outfit the paparazzi pictured you in earlier, opting for the stained, grey joggers you folded away in your Birkin. Anya and Gio snuck in so that they weren’t caught in their pyjamas. 

Dave sighs. 

“Tomorrow, don’t go for lunch with any of your silly boyfriends. Come here for noon, and we’ll finish when we finish. We’re getting this album done, and you can’t fire me until it’s out.” 

His sense of humour is appreciated, even if his work ethic is not, and you practically bolt out of the studio, friends in tow. 

Anya grabs your hand as you rush down the corridor, making your way to the exit. “No lunch with your boyfriend,” she repeats Dave’s words, mocking his gristly voice. You roll your eyes, snatching your hand away from your friend before pushing open the back door of the studio, heading towards your new BMW i8. 

You have been friends with Anya Kazi and Giovanna Bartoli since the age of two, meeting them on the first day of nursery, specifically after cutting one of Gio’s ringlets off with safety scissors. Though Anya happily clapped along, she did not defend you, and so you went for her hair as well. Your teacher, hoping to quell the budding animosity, placed all three of you in time-out, where a united front was formed. It hasn’t been broken since that moment, though a few years ago, you were terrified it would be. You, with a well-concealed preference for women, however, have managed to keep your friends. They assured you that they 1) already knew and 2) could not care less. 

“You don’t even like cars,” Gio scoffs at the sight of your latest purchase, your last name printed proudly on the number plate. “Was this an ‘I’m famous’ buy or did your daddy get it for you?” 

“He emailed me a few recommendations,” you answer off-handedly, sliding into the driver’s seat, switching on the ignition. It growls with a mean, menacing precision, the engine’s quality known and heard. “And don’t pretend that your family doesn’t have a Roll-Royce parked in the driveway of their million-pound townhouse.” 

“You are just as much from Hampstead as I am, girl.” 

You roll your eyes, stifling a yawn. Anya pulls out in front of you, no doubt speeding off to avoid the boy-racers you and Gio become at this time of night. 

Your flat has progressed from that of the one you shared with the girls in Princess Park two years ago. It’s nicely decorated, you like to think, with most of the work being done to it while you were touring. 

The walls are hung with artwork; some your own, some not. The canvases and frames adorn every room, dictating the vibe, declaring your individuality to any visitors who choose to admire the paintings and sketches. Then, if they were to look at the shelves dotted around the space, they’d see books with matching themes to the art. Your living room has a print of Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’, blown up in a gilded frame, hanging above your green leather sofa, adding colour to the white walls, and then a bookshelf filled with navy-bound novels about whatever you fancy. You’re quite chuffed with the design, though it was really the interior designer you hired who came up with the idea. 

Without a second glance to any of the intricate details of your home, you stumble your way to the bathroom, going through the motions until it is time to get into bed. It’s a big bed – one that often feels too big for just one person – but the mattress is inviting and you dive into a deep sleep head-first, knowing you will not be getting up until someone calls you tomorrow morning. 

…

Barcelona, seven hours earlier. 

The bar is busy, as most are in Barcelona at this time of night, and the girls are out for dinner and a post-training drink. The wine glasses have deceived them all, though, because they have been emptied and refilled a few more times than Xavi would be impressed with. 

A young, budding star does not drink during the season, the alcohol drought both self-inflicted and encouraged by every coach who promises to take her far. Her eyeliner must be smudged by now, but Alexia can’t leave yet because Jenni has promised that she can stay over at her place and she needs her to take her back. 

The reason for her temporary relocation is that Alexia is fed-up with her mother’s pestering, seeing as it is only one week into the season and she is already being called a workaholic. She can’t stay in that house tonight, especially when her little sister is the complete opposite: sleeping with anyone who gives her a chance and never doing anything that will help her future. Eli Segura is baffled by the lack of balance in her life – two daughters, two extremes – but she is the most concerned with her eldest, angering Alexia to no end. 

Alexia is also fed-up with this conversation. It’s all the girls seem to be talking about these days, utterly consumed with this new English girl group just like the rest of the world. 2sday has completely taken over all interesting topics of discussion, and Alexia doesn’t think she can handle being asked which one of their songs she likes the most one more time. 

She likes them, she guesses, but so does everyone. Todo el mundo is in love with all three members. 

The girls are discussing who their favourite is. 

“She’s Italian though, and that’s cool of her,” Jenni argues, putting forward her case for Bartoli as if she chose to have parents from a certain country. Alexia hums in thought, thinking of the pictures she saw from the world tour – how long her legs are, tanned and sculpted and shown off nicely by the mini-skirt she wore. “Did you know that her little sister is a model? She’s called Cristina or something. The beauty is practically in her DNA.” 

“Aren’t all three of them models?” asks Marta pointedly, finger tapping the photoshoot on the magazine cover.

“Well, all three of them are sexy,” Jenni replies, remembering just how enamoured the world is with the three break-out stars. “Ale, which one is your favourite?” The magazine that had sparked this conversation is slid towards the twenty-one-year-old, and she looks at the picture on the front page: you, Gio, and Anya, all dressed in oversized suits with nothing underneath, hair slicked back and eyes piercing, ‘girl power’ brandished over the bottom of the photograph. 

“Y/n L/n,” Alexia answers easily, fascinated by the sculpture of your face. She thinks you are beautiful, in a less crass way than her teammates. “And you lot sound like men with the way you talk about them.” 

“Ooh, Alexia is getting all high-and-mighty,” Jenni teases. “Looks like it’s time to take the baby home.” 

“She’s cranky because she’s tired and it’s past her bedtime,” adds another teammate, though Alexia is too wound up to really care who. 

They all make little pouty faces at her as she finishes the last of her glass of water, the clear liquid standing out against the deep red of most of the table. Jenni rolls up the magazine and swats her shoulder with it, before handing it over to its owner and finally allowing Alexia her rest. 

In silence, they sit in her car – an old Ford in need of replacing but not on the footballer’s list of things she will buy with the money they are now getting. FC Barcelona Femení has become, at last, a fully professional team, and Alexia looks ahead to the future with a hopeful dream and the knowledge that she will need to work hard if she ever wishes to become the best. Jenni has become a good friend ever since she joined the club last year, and she brings a global ambition to the friendship that she knows Alexia does not have. Jenni is from Madrid, and plays for Barcelona because she can, not because it is her club. Her team is the same as her grandfather’s, and she often expresses to Alexia her wish to play for them someday, as well as scoring in every league she possibly can. Young Alexia Putellas has never once considered stepping foot outside of Spain. 

Not only that, but her father died three years ago and here, in Barcelona, is where she feels closest to him. She cannot fathom a life past the plazas and the cobbled streets of her home. And she’s glad. She’s safe here, and she needs nothing more than her team, her family, and a football at her feet.  What more could she possibly want? 

As she settles on Jenni’s sofa, blanket pulled over her body, head resting on a plump cushion that smells faintly of Jenni’s dog, Alexia decides to watch whatever is on TV right now. Jenni, in an attempt to learn English, has found an English news channel that seemingly reports on ‘exclusive’ celebrity news. There you are, plastered on the screen, your picture zoomed in to the point of the pixels blurring.

The woman speaking has a high-pitched and critical voice, saying words that Alexia does not hear. She stares at your picture, considering the life you have, imagining that, one day, footballers like her have the stardom of Beckham and Messi and Ibrahimovic. Though she herself does not crave that exposure, well aware of her shyness, she thinks about the future with a wistful sigh, lost in her dream as the English woman narrates what she can see, judging how you have opened your mouth to take a bite of the food, listing the brands you are wearing. 

And, in her weird, exhausted haze, she sees your face. It’s probably only because you’re on the screen and she’s staring at it, but you are there as she pictures the growth of women’s football. You’re there in the stands as she plays in front of a sold-out Camp Nou, cheering and singing along to Catalan chants she knows you’d never actually know in real life. Slowly, she falls asleep, and, just before she closes her eyes, you are there: back to her, dressed in a familiar shirt. Alexia. 11. Somewhere in a far-off fantasy land, Alexia Putellas marries you that night. 

…

It’s Sunday. 

You drive to your parents’ house in Hampstead, only twenty minutes away from the flat you now live in, to reluctantly attend their weekly Sunday Roast. Before, it was a condition of remaining on the booking list for the annual family holiday, seeing as you had declared university was going to wait until after your gap year and then had become a popstar instead. Now that both you and your brother can afford to come anyway, the tradition is there for sentimental value. A world tour made you realise how much you love them all, even your annoying older brother. 

Your parents are lawyers who met at university and found love in a city that they never moved out of, both of them doing extremely well for themselves. They raised you and your brother to ski, horse-ride, and attend prep schools and public schools, although boarding school was not quite desirable. Your dad speaks in a booming voice, received pronunciation an act used for court, slight Mancunian accent lilting his words whenever he relaxes. 

“Darling!” your mum exclaims, surprised at your attendance just like she is every week. “Come on in, come on in. Daddy has the footie on, and your brother is on his way. Don’t you have songs to sing? How come you’re here?” 

Ushered inside your own home, you smell the brief scent of your family before adjusting to it all and fitting right back into the chaos. There’s beef in the oven, and the roar of the crowd playing faintly from the kitchen where your dad must be preparing the potatoes. He’s proud of his potatoes. 

You slip off your shoes – a new pair of Uggs – and follow your mother to the kitchen. Dad is there, doing exactly what you’d expected, hands working instinctively as his eyes focus on the TV, mouthing along with the commentary as Manchester United take on their opponent. “Sit down,” Dad says as soon as you walk in, pointing at the stools tucked into the island. “We’re not doing too badly, and today should be an easy win.” 

“I know. I do watch the football without you, Daddy.” 

He tuts. “Yeah, but you don’t get the same level of commentary on your own. Plus, United isn’t even what I wanted to talk to you about. I have thought of a publicity move that you should definitely make – it would really help you guys out.” You entertain his suggestion, knowing that’s what dads do, sitting back on the stool with a smirk on your face, already thinking of an interesting way to tell him he is being stupid. “So, what I was thinking was that you guys do a half-time show! You love football, and the girls love footballers – what isn’t to like? Plus, I bet any club would jump at the chance to make some money from extra tickets sold just to see you.” 

“And you haven’t already contacted our manager?” you check, finding your father to be quite unpredictable and rash. His ego is also far too inflated by clients who don’t see him for the kind but bumbling fool he truly is, and so he often takes it upon himself to put forward any ideas he has to your management team, much to everyone’s inconvenience (the last thing they need, amongst sorting out photos of you snogging girls and your friends in various compromising positions, is an old man telling them what he thinks will boost your image). “It’s a good idea, I must admit. I’ll bring it up.” 

“Good stuff.” There’s a clang of metal as the potatoes go in the oven too, and the fridge opens with a pop as your dad begins to fish out the carrots and parsnips to complete your meal, Your mother is responsible for everything else. “Try to get it at Barcelona or Real Madrid,” he says off-handedly. “Imagine singing in the Nou Camp. That’d be crazy.” 

“Not the appearance I dreamt of when I was little, but I’d still get to touch the grass,” you agree. 

“Y/n, we knew you’d never be a footballer. You haven’t got the coordination for that.” They tried to support you, they really did, but then music lessons took over and the sport became a form of entertainment, not exercise. “Women’s football is really something, though. In twenty years, it’ll be good. Maybe you should invest.” 

“I know zero women’s footballers, apart from – what’s her name? Kelly Smith. The English one?” 

“The Arsenal player, yeah. It’s a shame we don’t have a proper women’s team.” 

“Should I fund one?” you joke, but his face lights up and he has taken you seriously. “Okay, I know we’ve been successful thus far, but we haven’t raked in that much. Who knows! It could all go to shit and I could end up right where I started, in my childhood bedroom with no degree and no choice but to mooch off my parents.” 

“I get the sense that you’re slightly stressed about this album,” Dad says slowly, smiling wide, proud to have worked you out. He has always been good at that; knowing what you are feeling. It is a wonderful trait for him to have, seeing as your mother struggles with emotional connection of any kind. She is too much of a corporate big-shot for that, anyway. 

“It’s killing me.” You sigh, slumping on the stool. “It’ll be released and then we’ll hop on tour and I’m so tired. Anya has a crush and Gio’s dating someone and now all of our songs are about love and I just… I don’t know about that. I don’t know if I will ever know about that.” 

And, though he hesitates, Dad walks around the island and places a hand on your shoulder, telling you that you will find the right man someday. 

Deep down, he knows that the daughter who loved to watch football and never once commented on their hairstyles or pretty faces – the girl whose crushes on members of boy bands always seemed half-hearted and forced – is not a daughter who is going to bring home a man one day, with a smile on her face and a ring on her finger. He knows. It is quite possible that he has always known. Whether he is going to bring it up before you feel comfortable to talk about it is a different matter, especially since your mother has dreams of her daughter’s husband that she has whispered to him ever since they found out their second child was a girl. 

Sunday is pretty routine, which you are grateful for. Your brother, also a lawyer, discusses his latest case, resembling the stories your father used to tell at the dining table: stories you’d both yawn at when you were younger. You dish out a few industry secrets, recounting your most recent trip to Cirque Le Soir. With disdain, your mother berates you for any possible drug-usage, scolding you for something you have not admitted to but somehow knowing that you are guilty of it anyway. It feels much like the family dinners of your teenage years, but you suppose that pop stars never really have to grow up and decide that it isn’t all bad. After all, you drive home in a very stylish car.

Then, the week starts with another gruelling, waste-of-time day at the studio, where you go inside before the sun comes up and emerge long after it has set. Dave is decently pleased with the vocals so far. There are another seven tracks to go, but most of those are being written by other people. Mark Ronson, you’ve heard, is open to working with your group. It’s all very exciting, even if you feel like you have run a marathon by the end of the day. 

On Tuesday, you remember to tell your manager and publicist (she’s a woman of many talents) about your father’s idea. At first, her reluctance is extremely evident, but it later dissipates once she thinks about it, having promised you and the now-excited girls to see what she can do. 

You are on a private plane to Barcelona before you can realise what is happening. 

Bags packed with more make-up and spangled underwear than proper clothes, and sunglasses shielding your hungover eyes courtesy of last night’s consoling of a newly-single Giovanna Bartoli, you try your best not to vomit while in the air and even squeeze in a spot of light reading. The girls laugh (wincing at the sound) when they see you revisiting the Aeneid. You like Virgil, though, so you don’t mind. 

“How many days are we here again?” Anya asks, equally hungover. 

“Three,” replies your manager, not bothering to look up from her laptop. “Today, tomorrow, and the day after. Please check if the players are married before you do anything with them.” 

“I’ve sworn off men,” mumbles Gio miserably. She stretches her legs out with a sniffle, and then draws them back in to protect her broken heart. “If I’d get off with any woman, I’d like her to be Spanish.” She clears her throat, the lump of tears disappearing as she retrieves her GCSE-level Español, giving it a shot. If not to be serious than to at least piss you off. “Hola. ¿Cómo estás? ¿Quieres dormir conmigo?”

“What? And then you’re going to shove your tongue down her throat?” Gio looks at you with a smirk. “That is not how you kiss a woman.” 

“Hey, you can’t keep them all to yourself!” 

You laugh, though your manager’s attention has been caught and she is already showing her disapproval. “It would be better that I did if that’s how you think it works.” 

“None of you are kissing women.” 

“That’s not fair,” Anya protests, upset that she didn’t even get to join in the conversation before it got shut down as swiftly as a rowdy houseparty in an American teen-movie. 

“I agree. That’s not fair on Y/n, who actually needs to kiss a woman so her knickers aren’t in a twist all the time.” 

“I’ll twist your knickers in a minute,” you threaten, fist raised to Gio in good humour.

“See what I mean? She needs to let off some steam.” 

“Well, do it discreetly if you must. Do your shows, go out with the players, and bring whoever into your bed as long as they have tight lips and no vendetta against you. Gio, we’re going to have to say something about him ch–”

You gulp, not wanting your friend to cry again. “Wow, the view is really nice,” you interrupt, catching Anya’s appreciative nod in the corner of your eye as you splay your palm on the glass of the aircraft’s window, marvelling at Barcelona’s plazas and cobbled streets. Imagine this being your home, you think to yourself. 

…

Jenni is squawking when Alexia makes her way into the circle of players during their drinks break. Alexia knows her friend is excited to go to the men’s game later on today, but she hadn’t realised it is to this extent until she gets grabbed by the forward and shaken as though she is a snowglobe. 

“I got the golden ticket,” Jenni shouts in her ear, making their teammates around them laugh. “Me, you, and Mario are going to the match tonight!” 

“I already knew that?” They don’t really get free tickets, but they can be heavily discounted. Tonight isn’t a super big deal, though Alexia may stand corrected. “Was I not supposed to know that?” 

“Of course she doesn’t know,” Mariona says, squirting some of her water at the midfielder. She recoils from the droplets, but they land on her training top anyway, and Alexia is already pissed off with the entire world. “Alexia, do you seriously live under a football-shaped rock?” 

Alexia takes a moment to brush off the teasing, picturing the bursting trophy cabinet that is almost within her grasp. “Yes, and it is very homely.” 

“Madre mía, you are one of a kind,” Jenni says with a sigh, movements less aggressive as she drapes an arm around Alexia’s shoulders. “Guess who’s singing at half-time tonight. You’re going to drool so much that the people below us will think it’s raining.” 

At this, Alexia knows exactly who Jenni is talking about, and she blushes though it could easily be mistaken for redness from exercising. 

“I just think she’s pretty,” comes Alexia’s slightly defensive reply. They walk to the middle of the training pitch, rejoining the team as Xavi explains a confusing drill. Neither really listen. 

“Is this your first celebrity crush?” Mariona jibes, overhearing the conversation and finding it necessary to join in. Any excuse to poke fun at the baby of the team. 

Jenni ruffles Alexia’s hair, ruining her neat ponytail. “Alexia’s in love with a straight girl,” she sings. 

It’s then that the whole team chooses to get involved, ears perking up at the mention of Alexia’s lovelife – a more or less forbidden topic. Their captain, Marta Unzué, even chimes in with a ‘we’ve all been there’. Like a stroppy teenager, Alexia folds her arms over her chest and turns to focus entirely on football, something that she knows she loves and loves her back. They leave her alone for the rest of the training session. 

She even manages to forget about what comes after the first forty-five minutes of the match, sitting comfortably in a stadium that is her version of heaven. 

You, on the other hand, cannot distance yourself from the nerves of performing in no less than ten minutes. 

The players were nice when you accompanied Anya to speak to them, and they spent a good while fumbling their way through English to invite you all to join them tonight at Pacha. You took photos with Messi and Neymar to show your father. 

The outfit, if you can call it that, is tight and could possibly show your entire bum to eight-five thousand Culers tonight if you’re not careful. Silver eyeshadow glistens in the mirror when you peer at your reflection, inspecting the bejewelled bralette and tiny shorts you are wearing. 

Anya and Gio, who both look dazzling in their own silver combinations, tell you that it is time to get your microphones sorted. When you stand in the tunnel, ready to go out, you see that they have laid out a sheet on top of the grass so your heels don’t ruin it. Part of you wishes that you were in a football strip and boots. The music starts before you can get too reminiscent. 

You sing with the same adrenaline you always get, and the crowd becomes a blur in your mind as you lose yourself to the melody. The bass hits your heart just like the lyrics do – especially since this song was written by Anya about her last boyfriend – and you hold back tears as the choreography leads your limbs in an energetic dance that must be entertaining to watch. 

When it finishes, and your chest is rising and falling quickly as you try to catch your breath, Alexia thinks you almost catch her gaping at you. Your eyes seem to be scanning the stands. Maybe you see her. 

Maybe that is why you, in your big, black hoodie and paparazzi-proof baseball cap are sitting in the stands of Estadi Johan Cruyff the very next day. 

Alexia does not point you out to her teammates. You make it clear to all who recognise you that you are trying to be incognito, and either the fans at the stadium have no knowledge of popular culture, or they are granting you your privacy.

She is now the entertainer, shining under the spotlight of the bright sun, a ball at her feet like that is where all balls were made to be. And you watch carefully – she can feel it – but you do not stay long enough for her to even think about approaching you. 

…

2016. Somewhere in the sky between LA and New York. 

This time round, the tour has confirmed your hatred for all plane journeys, hotels, and sold-out concerts. 

You’re dead on the inside, numb to the glitter and sparkles of your life, and your eyes are always halfway to being sealed shut in the deepest slumber humanly possible. 

There are a few things that ease the disdain you have for your career, but none of those compare to the channel you have found that streams Barcelona Femení’s football matches. Your excuse, made to no one other than yourself, is that Manchester United has no women’s team. Of course you’d watch them instead, if you could. 

“This is peak lesbianism,” Gio comments, her fifth time saying the exact same thing, prodding a napping Anya to alert her to your boredom-killer on the flight. You’re glad these planes have wi-fi. “We’re in America, which has all the women’s football in the world, and you still choose to watch your crappy little stream on your cracked iPad.” 

“If you hadn’t decided to jump out at me, the screen would be just fine,” you grumble, transfixed on the way Alexia Putellas dribbles with the ball, turning and passing to Jennifer Hermoso who slots the ball right into the bottom-right corner of the net. The pitch looks damaged, and you really have researched how you can help out the sport, but it is hard to dispute anything the girls say about your crush on an unknown squad member when everyone knows you could get your football fix from the Premier League. 

You’re yet to tell anyone that you have just bought this season’s Barcelona shirt. You’re not sure if you’d be invited on the family ski trip if your father were to find out. 

“Sorry, sorry,” replies Gio, hands raised in the air, a gesture of surrender. In hindsight, your response was clipped. “Didn’t mean to distract you from such an important task. When will you tell us who it is that you fancy? We’ve been waiting for you to come to us, but, fuck me, you’ve got tight lips.” 

“And, before you say it – we’re not nosy. We just care. And we find it cute.” 

“And…” 

“What?” you practically grunt, biting your tongue as a hefty challenge sends Alexia Putellas face-first onto the patchy grass. It makes your heart jump. 

“Well, it’s not like she won’t want you, so make your move.” 

“Just like you made your move on Justin Bieber?” She winces. “We did warn you, babe.” 

“It’s alright,” Anya comforts with a small smile, though you are well aware of how funny she also found the situation. Being in LA, as a celebrity, is always an interesting experience. In Gio’s defence, she did not know about a certain model standing right behind her, and you are fairly sure she had run off to do lines with someone or other earlier. “But, yeah, seriously. Y/n, do you want us to guess?” 

“Go on. Guess.” You smirk, because they’ll never–

Anya’s hand flaps as she puts her privately-educated memory to good use. “What’s-her-face?” she squeals, hand slapping down on her thigh as the name eludes her, the flapping resuming once she remembers. “Alexia Putellas!” 

You rip your eyes from your cracked screen, widened in horror. “How did you know?” you ask, voice a whisper as you swallow your shock. 

“You talk about her all the time. ‘Ooh, she’s the future’ this, ‘watch her grow’ that. Just talk to her. She’ll fancy you back.” 

“She’s not a celebrity. Normal people don’t slide into people’s DMs like we do, and I have no clue whether or not she can speak English,” you reason, having said the same thing to yourself every time your finger hovers on that feature of Instagram. “And I don’t like her? You saw me kissing–”

“God, drop it. You know she kisses anyone with a mouth, and you also know that you’re lying your arse off. Whoever this footballer is, just talk to her. If anything, it’ll be good for you to spend time with someone who isn’t going to drag you right into their own closet.” 

“Closets in LA can be very big,” you say with a sigh, having already received a lecture about the damage-control your publicist always seems to be doing. You don’t really think it’s ‘damage’ if a photo of you enjoying yourself with someone, but your publicity team deems any picture of you with a woman one to be locked away in some encrypted file and never released in the papers. 

…

You: Hola! Congratulations on the win. :)

You cringe so hard, but you send it anyway, your friends leaning over either shoulder as they egg you on, wishing your closet gobbled you whole and spat you out somewhere further away than Narnia.

Alexia, in Barcelona, groans at the sound of her phone buzzing, wondering who on Earth is texting her this late. 

And she drops the device on her face when she sees what the notification is. 

Because it really does not make sense, and she is not used to the idea that women’s footballers could one day fraternise with celebrities like you without feeling out of place. (And she’s had a crush on you for about two years and you’re texting her at midnight to congratulate her.)

You, on the other hand, are gripping onto your phone with trembling hands, holding on for dear life. Anya, who claims her C in A-level Spanish was unjust and incorrect, is brainstorming your next message, adamant that you’ll seem cooler if you display some knowledge of her mother tongue. You don’t tell her that, of course, Alexia’s first language would have been Catalan, because you don’t want it to be obvious that you have done a little bit (a lot) of research. 

Gio tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear for you – a comforting gesture. “Hey,” she says kindly, “what’s the worst that could happen?” 

She tries. 

She fails. 

You have compiled a list within a millisecond. “I don’t know,” you start, but, oh, you do. “She could screenshot the conversation and leak it to Twitter? Or she’s not a lesbian and she is disgusted that I am? She could have a girlfriend? She could think my account’s been hacked and report me and everything’ll be deleted? Or all of the above?!” 

The chat is still open on your phone, but you can’t see past your tidal wave of anxiety. 

“I think you’re just nervous.” Understatement of the century. 

Before you can make a snide remark saying exactly that but to Anya’s face, your message is no longer the only one present. 

“She replied!” you shout, volume a concoction of fear and excitement and a thousand emotions in between. 

Alexia: Gracias por ver :)

“Thanks for watching,” Anya translates. 

You exhale. “Okay. Done. No more.” You ignore both of their facepalms with the sort of blissful ignorance you’re sure only delusional people possess, but it is better to have a healthy heart rate than to understand the lyrics to whatever ballad the two of them have in the works. 

…

“Kiss her.” 

“What?” 

“Just kidding,” Jenni giggles, winking at Alexia and stealing her glass of something-not-too-strong. 

The team has been invited to a party with the men’s team, all because their favourite girl group is back in town and are treating the club like a pit-stop on their way to Madrid for the European-leg of their tour. The album has been in the top ten worldwide ever since it was released.

Alexia looks good tonight, as said by Jenni who thought her wardrobe consisted solely of football strips and Barcelona merchandise, and she revels in her little secret. Your little secret. She hasn’t told anyone that you messaged her two months ago, even if the conversation ended with her response. 

Which is why Jenni is set on teasing Alexia about her non-existent chance with you, especially when you have spent your entire night on the other side of the reception room, deep in conversation with Neymar Jr., who is not shameful about his appreciation for the plunging neckline of your tight dress. He has a girlfriend, but Alexia has seen enough tabloid headlines to know that most famous people don’t care. 

Your glass is always full, though that is your own doing. Something about the way a pair of hazel eyes have been watching you from the minute you walked in makes the air around you feel heavier than it should, and alcohol helps to dull your fluster. 

Anya and Gio have circled back a few times, adding to their persuasion each lap. When you see Gio heading your way, a small smile playing on her lips as someone or other trails behind, you excuse yourself from your conversation with your personal hero (who, sadly, would be able to describe your boobs but not your face if he were asked) and clasp your fingers around her forearm, pulling the two of you even further from a certain women’s footballer on the other side of the room.

“She’s staring,” says Gio in a low voice, leaning in to speak into your ear. “She’s staring at you like she wants to eat you.” 

“I’d let her,” you reply, lips loosened from the champagne you’ve been drinking. “She is beautiful.” 

“She is still staring.” 

You decide to be bold. You stare back, and Alexia is trapped, frozen to the spot. “She is so beautiful.” 

“Now you’re both staring.” 

“I’m going to talk to her.” 

“You should,” she encourages, slurring. The blur might come from your distraction, your drunkenness, or her own intoxication. You don’t care. 

Absently, you nod. “Yeah.” 

She presses her fingertips between your shoulder blades, cold hands making you shiver. “Go. You got this.” 

“Yeah.” 

She pushes you away from her, in Alexia’s direction. Your feet carry you on what feels like an inevitable path. 

And you… walk right past her, out of the door, and into the warm air of the evening to have a smoke instead. 

Behind you, Gio lets out a silent scream, turning right around and giving up on your happiness because what more can she do? And Alexia, who is confused about what just happened and bored of this event anyway, is glad to be given an excuse to leave. 

Except, you are blocking her exit, cigarette pressed to your lips as you inhale the smoke like it is a lifeline. She frowns, lips a tight line of disappointment, really. “¿Tú fumas?” she asks, though she knows both the answer and of your incompetence when it comes to her language. 

You let your eyes meet hers, and Alexia shivers, though she tells herself it is only because it’s November. “Hola,” you reply. 

For some reason, Alexia is drawn in. She steps closer to you, and you don’t have anywhere to go, backed against the wall you are leaning on. You’re drunk, and the cigarette has burned down to a stub of orange and black. She’s also drunk – less so than you – and she has nothing to lose right now. She is no one, in her mind, and you are far from prudish. 

She decides, once she is barely ten centimetres away from you, that your dress is provocative, but it only adds to your existing beauty. You push your chest out, standing up straighter. 

The dance is very still, and very silent, but you can imagine what it feels like to kiss her and you know that she is thinking the same thing. 

“You can, if you want to,” you whisper, hoping she understands. 

Luckily, she does. 

Alexia fumbles her way through the first tentative second, shocked that this is what she is doing, but she finds her footing and relaxes into the taste of champagne and cigarette smoke, the heat of your body sparking a fire within her. You pull her closer, pressing her body into yours, and you are now consumed by desperation. The kiss grows messier, and Alexia’s hands begin to roam, mind lost in a haze of desire. She is explorative but she is gentle, and you gasp into her mouth as her tongue pushes past your lips and a hand settles on the curve of your bum, the other cupping your jaw. 

Briefly, she wonders how many girls you have done this with. You seem experienced. The thought, while a little disturbing, sort of spurs her on, feeding into her competitive nature. This will be unforgettable for her regardless of the outcome because it’s an interesting story to tell, but what about you? Are you even aware of what you’re doing? Are you straight? No, you can’t be. You messaged her, so you started this. She is only… finishing it? 

You sense her distraction, pulling back with a blink and a deep intake of fresh air. She tries to move back, afraid of what comes next, but you don’t let her go, clutching onto the hardened muscles of her arms to hold her in place, ready to kiss her again.

The moment is spoilt by a voice – an English voice – and the theft of your attention. Your eyes, previously hooded and dark, widen as they flit towards the door behind her, terribly upset that your friends have developed the worst timing known to man. Gio shouts again, telling you that it’s time to go. You have to get to Madrid, and the pilot would be incredibly annoyed to hear that the flight was delayed because you were too caught up in snogging a girl you may or may not fancy. 

“We really need to go!” Anya repeats, growing impatient with you as you debate giving up your entire music career. “Like, it is insane how badly you need to get your arse over here to say your goodbyes and then jump in the taxi to the airport with us.” 

“Can it just–”

“No!” they both shout in unison. 

You sigh, looking at Alexia, the proximity prodding at a feeling low in your stomach. She doesn’t squirm under the intensity of your gaze, instead sporting a lazy, blissfully ignorant grin. And you’re about to break her little heart. 

“I have to go,” you say softly, forehead resting on her shoulder as you mumble your words out. You have a duty to your job, or, as Virgil puts it: labor omnia vincit. Work conquers all.

“You have to…?” she tries. 

“Go.” 

“Tiene que irse,” Anya translates, reminding you of her presence (and her much better comprehension of Spanish). “Ahora.” 

“Ah.” Alexia’s hand cups the back of your neck as you raise your head, and she kisses you, though the kiss is short. 

You pat your body down with a sudden haste, wandering past your alcohol-clouded thoughts to remember the location of your ticket, reaching down to grab your clutch from where you’d dropped it on the floor while having a smoke. It pops open as Alexia watches your movements, and you retrieve a pen and a scrunched up ticket (you have no idea why that’s in there, but you are grateful that it is). 

“Here.” You hand her the ticket, pressing it into the palm of her hand and then sealing your goodbye with a quick peck to her lips. 

Then, you are gone, running off at an impressive speed in those heels, chasing your friends into the building. 

She pauses herself in time for a moment, drawing back her grasp on reality as her thoughts still and she breathes in your lingering perfume. And then she blinks – blinks her way back into midnight in Barcelona. 

She opens her palm to see what your gift was, unfolding the piece of paper with an overwhelming curiosity that almost rips it at the edges. 

A boarding pass from London Stansted to Barcelona-El Prat Airport, decorated in fresh, black ink.

Scrawled on top of the flight details is something much more valuable than the entrance into First Class the paper allows. 

Eleven digits. 

Twenty-two-year-old Alexia Putellas, the catalyst for change in women’s football as the world knows it, suddenly sees her future set right out in front of her. Because there you are.

[redeyerhaenyra]

Truly Madly Deeply

Summary: Marc goes all out when you tell him you're a virgin

Warnings: Smut, fem reader, soft sex, softie Marc, FLUFF, virgin reader, extremely mild breeding kink at the end, cockwarming, Marc loves reader soooo much, fingering + oral (f receiving), reader cries a little, let me know if I missed anything x

Notes: For all my marc girlies

Wc: 847

When you'd initially told Marc you were a virgin, he'd acted surprised.

Surely, no one as kind, as beautiful as you would've had people throwing themselves at your feet, right? Well, that just wasn't the case for you.

You'd expressed your worry to him, that he would think less of you- but he was quick to kiss away your insecurities, and promise in a low voice that he would always love you, no matter what form you took.

He'd set it up perfectly, a true romantic. You'd both been out to a very nice restaurant- and you'd worn a red dress you felt exquisite in, and Marc was all but dying to tell you.

“So beautiful, baby, can't believe your mine, I don't deserve you, God, you're so pretty.” 

You jumped to tell him that he did deserve you, of course. He rubbed the back of his neck, flushing.

When you had both gotten home- oh! Rose petals and incense and sweet, seductive music playing on his old walkman. He had led you by your hand, kissing you, to your shared bedroom. 

Marc had looked upon you as if you were a goddess, sent from the heavens for him to ravish. He took his time, peeling your clothes of slowly, savouring every moment, only stopping to take of his own when you whined that it wasn't fair if only you were naked, and he had gladly followed your command for him to strip. Tonight was about you, after all.

It felt like hours, hours he'd been, buried in your cunt, lapping and sucking and locking into your greedy hole. He was gentle though, guiding you over and over to sweet, brain melting orgasms, praising you over and over.

“Taste so good, fuck, can't get enough, oh baby, it's so good, you're so good for me..”

Marc treated you like fine China, swallowing your whimpers and wails with his kisses, as he plunged two of his fingers deep within you, stroking that spot, scissoring his fingers gradually wider and wider, so that it didn't hurt when you finally took him. 

Hours of prep later, you had ended up begging Marc with tears in your eyes for his cock. Who was he to deny you? You balked a little at the sight of it- hard and thick and dripping for you. But Marc had assured you that it wouldn't hurt- and if it did, you would stop, and try another way. Or, just stop altogether.

“Hey, baby, we don't don't to, okay? You don't owe me this, you don't owe me anything, I love you, hey- oh baby don't cry, it's ok, I've got you, i- I know you want to baby, we're gonna take it slow, alright? I love you sweetheart.”

The final moment- the one you'd been building towards for hours. Sudden nerves filled you- and you tensed, but were gently eased to relax with Marc's soft, guiding voice in your ear, rumbling through his chest as he notched the head of his cock at your entrance.

He moaned with you, as he pushed in, just an inch, panting above you as he waited for you to tell him you were ready for more. You did, he pushed in another inch, and again waited until you were ready. This continued until the whole length of his cock was stuffed snugly in your pussy, bulging out in your tummy- Marc wouldn't admit it but the sight gave him an ego boost. 

“Oh, honey, look at that, your lil’ tummy's so full, huh? So full of me? Aw, baby, doing so good, takin’ me so well, yeah baby, yeah, I know, I know, you're such a brave girl. My brave girl.”

He'd cupped your face, pressing loving kisses all around you, as he began thrusting. It was slow, deep, perfect. He knew juuust how to treat you. 

The orgasm you soon gushed all over him was, warm, almost syrupy. It had you feeling gooey, like treacle. Marc allowed himself to speed up his thrusts just enough to tip himself over the edge, once he was sure you were able to handle the added sensation of his warm cum spilling inside you. 

God, so warm, so comfy. Marc was like a personal pillow for you. He moved to pull out, but you had reached over to grip his firm backside, and instead push him deeper inside, complaining that you wanted him plugging you up all night, that you didn't want to lose a single drop of his cum. Marc had groaned, muttering into your neck that you'd be the death of him, before carefully manoeuvring you onto your side, where he could comfortably spoon you from behind. All the while, his dick gradually softening, occasionally twitching inside you.

You were exhausted, but surrounded in a snuggly aura of peace. You felt like you lay on a cloud, floating on air, wrapped in a blanket of the man you loved, pressing sweet kisses into your hair. 

“I love you,” he whispered, “truly, madly, deeply, I love you.”

“..I love you too.”

[claritys-silly-things]

Something something Sunday, something something headcanon post

- Ponyboy loves mint chocolate chip ice cream, but dally hates it. He claims it tastes like toothpaste and every time he says this, the group has to hold pony back from attacking the guy (fair)

- (modern) Someone show the curtis brothers Steven universe sobs

- The curtis brothers have dimples and smile lines and other facial things. like Darry has crows feet and pony has worry lines on his forehead because I think it’s cool and I have those even though I am like. Young.

- What if Dallas had an older brother or someone that’s like how he is to Johnny but to Dallas and that person died and then his mom died and he hated his dad and had no reason to stay in New York so he left

- I just painted my nails with random ass old nail polish I found and every nail is a different color and I think that’s something cherry would do

- Pony, soda, and twobit are all double jointed in different areas of their body and they’ll just do shit to creep the rest of the guys out, especially dally and darry

- Dally is fine with gore n shit irl but cant handle weird body contorsions

- Johnny will randomly say the most horrifying things like “doesn’t everyone wish they could go to sleep and not wake up” and it just traumatizes ponyboy. Twobit is also like this but a bit more goofy. Pony ends up doing the same thing post-book but says it to sound like it’s a joke like two bit and when people tell him to stop he’s like “it’s true tho🧍🏽‍♂️”

- Since dally is so pale, he gets “red” so goddamn easily but he looks more pink. Every time he feels too much of any emotion, he’s pink. If it’s too hot he’s pink. Two bit makes fun of him for this and has been punched in the face at least twice for it. Pony is the same but that mf turns like BRIGHT red

- One sided dalbit bc Dallas is fucking aromantic but it’s funny for giggles and shits cuz twobitch just keeps embarrassing himself trying to flirt (vox and alastor core) (someone make a fic about this cries sobs)

- (Modern perchance) Pony is in like advanced classes n shit but fucking hates it. He’s still good at it and will cry if he gets a bad grade, but he doesn’t like it

- (Modern) Pony fucking hates Miguel O’Hara and is absolutely positively disgusted bc like half his friends simp so hard over that man (may or may not be based on me) (it is)

- two bit unironically believes so many conspiracy theories and spreads it to pony and Johnny

- I randomly made mozzarella sticks rn on a whim and soda would 100% impulse make food all the time and just figure out the recipe himself. It’s usually decent.

- Pony loves back to school season but hates actually going back. Like he likes the idea of going back to school and getting new school supplies, but within like, two days, he hates all his classes besides English

- Soda will burst out singing out a lot no matter where he is. Even at night. You can’t stop him (me)

- Rip sodapop you would’ve LOVED musical theater sobs

[skiiyoomin]

ღWhat the JJK characters listen to

ʚCharacters included: Gojo, Getou, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji

⤑Back to navigation ⤑part 2

a/n im doing this for my own entertainment purposes, thank you.

Gojo Satoru

You absolutely cannot tell me he didn´t have a frat boy phase during high school.

I´m talking Drake, Travis Scott, Kayne West, Chris Brown and obviously we can´t forget about Usher. (SAY DADDYS HOOOME)

As he got older his taste definetly evolved and he cringes HARD when he thinks about his high school phase. Dark times.

To me he´s someone who´s very very trendy and is always listening to whatever is trending on Tik Tok.

Honorable mention: Beyoncé (he would die just to breath the same air as our queen)

Getou Suguru

Yes he listens to The Weeknd, he´s a slut like that. BUT. Hear me out.

When he was going through it, he had Tame Impala and The Neighbourhood on REPEAT.

Also, he had a Panic! At the Disco phase during high school and you can´t tell me otherwise. He tries to keep it buried but honey ain´t no hiding it.

Gojo always argues with him over this, but he prefers Rhianna over Beyoncé.

I feel like out of all of the ones in the list, he´s the one with the most diverse taste except he always ends up listening to the same 5 songs (he´s like me fr)

Honorable mention: MGMT

Nanami Kento

Did you see that man during high school? he was EMOOOO.

My Chemical Romance, Green Day, Evanescence, Paramore, and obviously Panic! At the Disco.

He LOVED listening to P!ATD with Geto and singing to I Write Sins Not Tragedies.

Now that he´s older and realized it was indeed a phase, his taste evolved into more classic artists. Like ABBA or Queen.

Deep down he still enjoys emo rock music but he won´t ever admit it.

Honorable mention: Justin Timberlake (don´t ask why, cause I don´t know either)

Choso Kamo

It´s obvious, i don´t think I even need to say it.

CHASE ATLANTIC BRO

he´s so Chase Atlantic coded it hurts😔

Also Arctic Monkeys and The Weeknd, but you knew that already didn´t you?

Yuuji introduced him once to Lady Gaga and she´s on repeat. Especially The Fame Monster album.

Tries to diversify his taste but somehow always ends up listening to the same type of music.

Honorable mention: Kali Uchis (i was listening to Dead To Me while writing this so 👍)

Sukuna Ryomen

In the modern day, cause manz is old as fuck, he either listens to hard metal or phonk. There´s no in between.

He just loves noisy ass music that gives you pounding headaches after 50 seconds.

Mostly listens to it to block out Yuujis music. Cause he internally cries every time Yuuji plays preppy ass pop music. Makes him fr wanna rip his eardrums out.

BUT.

He has a huge guilty pleasure that not even he is aware of.

And that´s Britney Spears. No I will not elaborate

Honorable mention: Adele cause who doesn´t like Adele

Toji Fushiguro

ANYTHING but preppy music.

Literally anything but that.

I feel like he isn´t the type to listen to a lot of music but when he does he always listens to the same songs cause he isn´t interested in exploring and expanding his tastes.

Lowkey feel like he has a thing for Doja Cat and Bryson Tiller.

I´m convinced he found out about reggaeton once and has become the only thing he listens to.

Honorable mention: Michael Jackson (just because)

[spectralsiren]

modern day music hcs for the Dead Poets (in collaboration over dms with @anhonest-puck)

Charlie is a Swiftie. Acts like he hates her for no reason but the only reason anybody (Neil) knows about him being a swiftie at ALL was because Neil and he shared a playlist as kids so the old stuff was on there. Once the truth is like, out there he’s a swiftie he buys tickets for him and Neil even if Neil claims to not want to go at all. Charlie would literally be that one video of that one girl with mascara down her face hysterically sobbing “she’s gonna come back for another encore” when the whole stadium is empty. I’m right.

Oh my GOD. Okay so this is credit to Neil for this hc but Knox had the most horrendous MCR phase as a teenager. Charlie found photos and they laughed at him for month. He would definitely be a gatekeeper with singers like the smiths and TV girl as if they don’t have millions of steamers. Unironically a huge fan of Olivia Rodrigo too, like top artist and everything. Love is Embarrassing is actually his track trust me. Meeks has a video of him singing Drivers License and Charlie got a hold of it; he sent it to everyone. It’s referenced quite frequently.

Speaking of Meeks: Huge fan of 60-80s music. David Bowie, the Clash, ABBA, etc. But also he would so be one of those annoying One Direction fans; definitely cried when they split, knows all the people and has favorites. He would be so insufferable about it. Pitts watched him cry about them splitting and he definitely did try to comfort him but he was trying not to laugh as hard as he could. so. ya know.

Cameron has the most dumb fucking taste alive. Like Justin Timberlake or some shit. But he’s also a classical fan. But Charlie constantly mocks him for being a Timberlake

Okay on the topic of concerts, Meeks definitely wanted to go see Harry Styles love on tour but he was not about to pay those prices. So, just to be insufferable, Charlie bought one ticket for himself. He was mostly just doing it to be funny but some random person posted a video of him next to them and he’s sobbing. Meeks had a field day with that video dude. Neil and Meeks ended up going to the one where mitski opened(you know, the one that had all the female H.S. fans up in arms?) and they got rlly good photos and stuff

Todd is a Noah Kahan fan. He really relates to the stuff he made, also totally a fan of the cure?? Boys don’t cry?? Yeah that’s his type of music, but I feel like the dead poets give eachother recommendations, he gave one to Charlie which was Call Your Mom, and Charlie thinks of Neil everytime. It’s now on every single of his playlists.

[maladaptivewriting]

marauders era characters and their favorite movies

if they lived in the muggle world circa 2024

remus: little miss sunshine brutal and disturbingly human, but intertwined with themes of love, family, support, and healing

james: talladega nights the theme of this movie is that friendship is magic. you know james was saying "if you're not first, you're last" for years after seeing this movie. also he tried to create a shake-and-bake thing with sirius

sirius: howl's moving castle "that howl is so fucking hot" "he literally just looks like you" "exactly" sirius sees himself as this main love interest (howl) and he sees remus as sophie, especially when she's an old woman that howl has to take care of. all he wants to do is take care of remus

peter: bridge to terabithia peter seems like the kind of person to find stories of tragical childhood friendships really compelling. he also loves josh hutcherson (who doesn't)

regulus: the secret life of walter mitty he relates to the main character - a man who is controlled and meticulous but longs to go on an adventure. he also wishes that sirius would pull him out of his monotonous life and into the unknowable but with complete acceptance of who he is.

lily: little women in the way that i feel like i've been shot every time i watch a movie involving complicated mother/daughter relationships, lily would be deeply compelled by stories about sisterhood. especially jo and amy who always feel second to each other

mary: princess mononoke she would relate to the main character and be very enthralled by ashitaka. definitely a comfort watch for her.

marlene: raising arizona or zoolander she loves absurdist comedies with lovable and endearing characters. she is also low-key attracted to nick cage when he was young, but don't tell anyone, it's a secret.

dorcas: arrival or parasite dorcas has unequivocally good movie tastes. she likes high concept stories with heavy thematic writing and devastating plots. she talks about them in detail for weeks afterward

pandora: midsommar and pan's labyrinth she loves movies with comically intense violence. she finds high control groups fascinating. she definitely loves pan's labyrinth because of the freaky monsters and the fact that it sounds like it could belong to her

xenophilius: the twilight saga he knows every detail and loves to examine the story from all sides. he and pandora bond over the fact that carlisle is a joseph smith archetype.

evan: deadpool evan sees deadpool as barty and loves the character because of it. he is also envious of the characters freedom to be himself

barty: the mummy he just thinks that everyone in this movie is really fucking hot

snape: pride and prejudice (2005) finds it super romantic and loves the way characters talk and deliver lines. he listens to the soundtrack as background music while he works.

frank longbottom: spiderman (no way home) no one was more excited than he was when the three spiderman characters interacted. he cried a lot when watching this movie

alice: narnia it was her sexual awakening ;)

narcissa: glass onion she loves a who-done-it story, she reads mystery novels all the time and she thought this one was the most exciting

bellatrix: barbarian or bones and all she watches bones and all like "when is it my turn to be happy?" and she watches barbarian like "what is it like to have a mother who loves you?" everyone thinks she's crazy

lucius: dune or the king he sees himself as the king. that scene where robert pattinson's character is slipping around in the mud and timmy's character is standing there unbothered - that's how lucius pictures himself and arthur weasley. he also thinks of his own family when he watches dune

also this came from a question that @wolfpadx asked in the discord and i just had to elaborate on my thoughts.

[fandomsniper]

so this is my take on human Caine

keep in mind that this is all my headcanons and imagination, and I'm going with the theory that he is an AI and he wasn't a human before

(again it's my hc!) also minor tw for drvg mention

so going with that logic, man is an AI, for his whole life all he was, was lines of numerical codes and suddenly he's thrown into this world and becomes a human, as we all are aware a human body needs to comply to the laws of physics, biology, etc., it has needs that need to be taken care of for it to function right which an AI in a digital world doesn't need to do so imo all of that had to mess with his head a lot, I think that there is a high possibility that he would experience some kind of body dysphoria, he would feel that this isn't HIS body, that something isn't right, something doesn't fit etc., that would be pretty logical

complete change of how his brain operates (idk what he had as an AI but let's also call it a brain lol), human body operates on five basic senses, which is something that he didn't have to submit to, the list of "senses" he had as an AI in a digital world is probably long as fuck and now he has to lean on only five basic ones? that gotta suck and be absolutely difficult (which should be obvious, imagine suddenly becoming blind or deaf, now you need to learn to operate with even less senses than you had, fucking sucks), back in the digital world he could do practically everything with little effort and now? he is limited by this human body/world and all the laws it needs to obey

still on those senses, I think they are all over the place because of the sudden change so he would be prone to sensory overloads or something like that

he literally needs to learn all social rules, written and unwritten, and overall the basis our world works on, which we had YEARS to learn about as we grew up, and yeah as an AI he had some info about humans and our world 'cause he had direct contact with us back in the digital world but it wouldn't be even close to enough to live here among us (heh) completely out of nowhere

because of all of this, I think that he would be a total train wreck and he would be very prone to fall into some unhealthy habits, like for example imo he could easily get addicted to drugs (idk what kind tho), he takes some pills and he can "get back" to his old life at least for a moment? sign him up! for that short period of time, he could feel "right" again, he could have control again [I'm also leaning towards the idea that he could develop some kind of control issues considering who he was back in the digital world as an AI], drugs give you a high which on you can imagine/hallucinate/feel a lot of things so yeah, he could easily get addicted to those, especially if his trips would revolve around him being back in his digital world, his home

and nope, it's not me projecting onto my fav character yet again, not at all (I'm a big liar)

but fr tho, I think it would make sense if he actually was an AI who was never a human and somehow he got out of the digital world with all circus crew

and I made a visual of him in a picrew! (if anyone will want it, I will drop the link to it)

I made some small adjustments in ibis paint lol, like the eye color and the roughly drawn Glasgow smile scars (for some reason it just fits him??? cause he was literally all teeth and it connected in my brain??? idk but my mental imagine of him as a human has those scars, can't do anything about it) + a bit longer lines under his eyes

he would look like he's in his really late 20's or early 30's

bonus, cause I found that t-shirt in the maker lol, Jax gave it to him

a playlist I made and some footnotes with fun hcs

he would love the movie "The Greatest Showman", can't tell me otherwise

I think he wouldn't have a specific music taste, no specific genre etc. but I think he would enjoy music from 80's and 2000's

he cried watching Bambi

his fav candy is Skittles

for the first two weeks the only thing he would eat was any variation of buttered bread, breakfast? toast with butter, dinner? buttered bread with salt, supper? toast with butter but this time with no crust, he would have continued this if Ragatha didn't step in and practically force feed him scrambled eggs one morning and then continued to do so with other foods until he stopped eating just bread

he likes Lady Gaga

he's not allowed caffeine, under any circumstances, never again, the circus gang decided that as a group

surprisingly, he enjoys horror movies

Jax showed him that one video of car driving through the hills (iykyk), he fell out of his chair

his room is very cluttered, messy but in this artsy-homey way

he picks on his skin a lot, especially when he's nervous and because of that his hands are covered in band-aids

he once saw Zooble smoke and asked if he can try, now he joins Zooble on "smoke breaks" because he picked on the habbit, Zooble kinda feels bad about it

[gagegh0st]

Batfamily Kiddos And My Hc's Even though nobody asked for them

New series asshats! "-- hcs even though nobody asked for them will be a returning series you little shitfucks.

Dick Grayson

He has a really good music taste, loves a good jazz, funk, or jersey club song

Collects certain hand sanitizers because he likes the smell

He hoards magazines about himself so that once he becomes a parent, he can show them to his kids.

Has a soft spot for birds.

Night owl

Always wanted a parakeet but Alfie and Dad said no.

Really likes travelling to hot places

Cant swim, almost drowned the last time he was in a pool

Barbara Gordon

Really allergic to cats (Red eyes, hives, all the works)

She was a total nightcore kid back in middle school

Has multiple sets of joint problems that have been left untreated for actual years

Big fanfiction person

Collects plushies of bats because she likes them

Graphic novel addict

Dyes the tips of her hair different shades of red

Absolutely fucking hates tight jeans

Jason Todd

Been book buddies with Alfred since he was really young

Absolutely terrible at driving

Started greying prematurely, he dyes all of it but the white piece.

He takes melatonin before bed because of him having anxiety

Can't hold a girlfriend for shit, too promiscuous to stay single tho.

He had lots of pet fish growing up

He has a rose garden and is very proud of it

Wants to retire one day to be an old guy with a nice garden and literally a. single. child, that's it. All he needs.

Damian Wayne

Listens to way inappropriate music for his age

Thinks he's grown but he always has homework due

The bitchiest little sibling you will ever meet, he is a huge snitch too.

Always having an identity crisis.

Had really traditionally girly interests growing up (Ex: Fables, Flowers, Balet, and Barbies <3, what a sweet child)

Isn't allowed to have a girlfriend ever according to Bruce.

Laughs at inappropriate times a lot

Chronically wears vests because he thinks that it flatters his figure. (It doesn't, Alfred knows this but wants Dames to feel his best even if it makes him look short.)

Tim Drake

Was obsessed with wolves when he was young

Loves a funky-print suit

Really likes painting with gouache or watercolour

Big-ol Adhd brain

Wears the same coat without washing it for at least six months

Plays really funky indie games

Really likes feeling pretty, paints his nails, curls his hair, or even gets himself some new jewelry

Got his ears pierced when he was young, and has tons more ear piercings and plans to get his nose bridge pierced even though Bruce said he would kill him.

Stephanie Brown

Started coding at an early age

Collects old metal stuff

Special interest is welding and glass blowing

Very fond of bears, especially pandas.

A cheese connoisseur

Designs all the suits for the batfam

HTML is the love of her life

Aro ace and only Bruce knows, he's chill about it tho.

Cassandra Cain

Hearing problems GALORE

Uses some forms of AAC because of hearing problems and speech impediment (Lisp and Stutter)

More brooding than most of the boys

Really likes scrapbooking

Watches kids shows for fun because she had a really fucked up childhood

Absolutely never cries in front of the other siblings

Bruce is her shoulder to cry on because he gives such good advice

Crochets Before bed because it's a good stress reliever.

Duke Thomas

Haircut always stays fresh asf

Dissociates a lot

Always was a math person, didn't like reading growing up because of vision problems

Really loves chickens and has names for all of the chickens they own

Collects action figures of farm animals

A very faithful partner, he doesn't get into relationships with people he doesn't see a future with

Has a very fun textured closet but sticks with the yellow.

Collects cool pens and gives them to Alfred so he can have something cute to write with when he writes down groceries.

OK BYE CHAMOY PICKLES !! ILY, DRINK WATER, SHOWER, GET UP, STRETCH, AND KEEP BEING AWESOME!!!

[thikkiesixx]

Steddie Fic Recs

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I have Steddie brain rot so bad, heres a few of my fav ones ive read so far. MOST of them are smut, beware.

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stuck between your tongue and teeth- Summary: Steve notices it from the very first time he and Eddie have sex. Eddie is - quiet. Written by Adure. Lets be honest, anything written bye Adure is gold.

throw me one- Summary: Steve and Eddie are friends with benefits with the important caveat - no kissing, ever, under any circumstances; modern AU. Written by Adure.

money, power, glory- Summary: Steve starts paying Eddie for sex once he discovers that Eddie doesn't just deal drugs and perform at the Hideout. Steve doesn't mean to fall in love with him, but he can’t help himself. written by anonymous

we should just kiss (like real people do)- Summary: ‘Please?’ Eddie stops him again, this time by holding his face. Steve feels Eddie’s thumb moving over his cheek, he feels the cool metal of his rings. He feels everything except what he needs. ‘I’ve never loved anything the way I love you, Steve Harrington,’ Eddie says, dark brown eyes moving between Steve’s own. ‘This isn’t the moment, sweetheart.’ It’s not a rejection, but it’s not a kiss. Steve quietly cries, insides cut up on the broken shards of his stupid little heart and Eddie holds him, he holds him all night until they fall asleep together. Written by Oonionchiver

taste me you will see- Summary: The dorm room next to Steve's gets a new resident over Thanksgiving break, much to his surprise. After the first 'incident' when he finds out about his new neighbour, Steve quickly becomes really fucking tired of the guy and his obnoxious music taste. Not to mention the guy's endless libido. Steve tries to get the message across, he really does. Some failed attempts later, he kind of wants to put this asshole in his place. However, he's not prepared to see who the guy is behind his recent sleepless nights. In other words, Steve learns that life has its interesting ways to give you a lesson about yourself. Written by Eilla

flight risk- Summary: Eddie Munson is famous for giving his bodyguards the slip. Enter Steve Harrington. Has this bratty rock star finally met a babysitter that can keep up with him? written by Ayes

carve your name into my chest- Summary: Eddie Munson just wanted to play hockey. That's almost all he's ever wanted, since he was old enough to realize it was an option for him. And now he's at the top of his game, one of the best players in the NHL. Everything would have been perfect... if it wasn't for the small matter of the thing he's got going with his long time rival, goalie Steve Harrington. written by hexiewrites

catch me im falling- summary: Steve is a cheerleader in the early 2000's. written by fragilecapricorn

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If you guys want more Steddie fics, let me know, OR if you have any recommendations of your own, comment them!!

[kazuyummy]

🍆 daiya no ace - how they like receiving head

sanada shunpei 💋 kominato ryosuke 💋 miyuki kazuya

‎

SANADA SHUNPEI showers you with praises-- honey, sweetheart, babygirl-- you've heard all the pet names but they never get old falling from his lips. Kneeling between those muscular legs, you do everything in your power to please him. He likes when you get messy-- drool trailing down the sides of your lips to your chin and tears pooling at the edges of your eyes as you take the full length of his fat cock. Shunpei coos your name so sweetly with songs of my good girl and my fuckin' angel, that he doesn't have to lift a finger while you do all the work, soft hands tugging at his length and head bobbing. He tastes and feels so good, the curve of his cock hitting the back of your throat and you can just imagine it making a mess of your pretty little pussy. His groaning is music to your ears; your reward for being so good and getting him close to release. And when you milk him dry, swallowing every last drop then turning around and bending over when he asks so kindly, you're thanking him.

KOMINATO RYOSUKE is a sadist through and through, which must make you a masochist with the way your head hangs off the bed as he fucks your throat, watching it bulge as you take his length. He loves the tears falling from your eyes, and the way you whimper and shake your head when he asks if it's too much for you. You look so pathetic and desperate to please him with your throat full that it only spurs him on further. He'll bend down and play with your tits, pinching them and telling you to quit yer whining when you gag around him. He'll tell you that you're his good little whore, even letting you touch yourself-- not like he'd allow you to cum without his permission, though. When he finally hits his peak, he'll shove himself down so you choke a little, but help your head up shortly after so you can swallow without coughing. Even with some of his seed dripping down the side of your mouth, he'll give you a kiss and an affectionate ruffling of the hair for being his good girl.

MIYUKI KAZUYA doesn't stop his provocation even in bed-- even when you scoff pillow princess at him, even when you try teasing him back, and especially when you glare at him. He loves lying down when you give him head because he gets the full show-- glazed-over eyes that look at him to gauge his reaction every so often, the way your plush, slutty lips wrap around him, your ass up in the air-- hell, maybe he'd love to see someone plowing you from behind one of these days, desperation in your face as you do your best not to crumble under the pleasure. When he gets close, his hips get restless, thrusting upward as he props himself up on one elbow and grips your hair with his free arm. His release is the only time you feel any sense of victory, eyes needy and cries of your name falling from his lips when you keep going, overstimulating him until he can finally pull himself out. But just like that, he's back to his true self and already knows the answer when he starts to get hard and challenges you, "you gonna ride me already, or what?"

HAHAHAHA BYE

[solsearchingnights]

2 and/or 12 for that music writing ask game!!

you got this sol <3

So the vibe of the song is, at a glance, not matching the scene. But I need you to consider that smalletho are fucked up and their love languages are different kinds of killing and maiming.

Will I Find My Home - Acoustic Version (Juniper Vale)

Number 2

“Joel!”

His eyes scanned the trees for the voice before he could think it through. 

“Joel, where are you?”

And he could taste the words on his tongue as he choked on a reply.

“Help me! Joel, they’re after me!”

They tasted like blood.

“I need you!”

Turning his back on the voice felt like leaving his lungs behind him. Joel sprinted, as fast as he could away from Etho, and it felt like the world was ending.

The zombie apocalypse? An inconvenience, for sure. Hearing Etho scream for him and running from it? Joel figured he might as well be dead already.

But still he ran. What else could he do? Etho’s loyalties were with Cleo, with Grian. Even Bdubs and Scar and Tango and Impulse… they all had as much claim to Etho’s mercy as him; bound by old alliances and ongoing affections. That’s how this worked. 

“Joel!”

The world was burning. Etho had already caught ablaze, and embers were licking at Joel’s heels. The Relation was nothing but cold charcoal on an abandoned server. The ship had burned and so had the whole world. 

“Please, Joel!”

Really it was amazing it had taken so long for him to trip over his soulmate’s cries.

There was no hesitation. As soon as Joel’s knees hit the ground an arrow pinned it, Scar’s laugh claiming the wound from the shadows.

“Joel! I’ll help you!” Etho’s voice was just as alluring, as dangerous as it had ever been. “I’m coming buddy!”

“Go away, Etho!” The words clung to his tongue like ash. “I know you’re with them!”

Etho’s laugh still made Joel’s stomach flip, even as his blood ran cold.

He ground his teeth together and ripped the arrow from the dirt, leaving it in the meat of his leg. He had to keep moving.

“Come on, Joel!”

He kept looking forward.

“Join me, Joel.”

The pain of each step was a burning that blended into the ache in his chest. There was a chain still anchored in his heart, and Etho knew how to pull it.

“Joel…”

He was too close. Joel knew those near-silent steps on the grass, the tiny catch in breath that came before Etho lunged.

Dancing to the side, Joel hissed and met Etho’s eye. He tried to run, but Etho recovered faster and lunged again. Another arrow embedded itself in Joel’s shoulder and Etho tackled him to the ground, sword ready to strike.

When he lost this life, Joel smiled up at his soulmate. Maybe next time they could have each other again.

[dude1818]

Anime Year in Review

Last year I made a silly post ranking the three shows I happened to watch. This year, I got way more into anime (and manga), so let's do it properly this time

Revue Starlight* - Easy top star spot. This anime was flawless. I watched it twice this year and will be watching it again. The story, the animation, the music were all impeccable. The music, oh my god; I listen to the soundtrack every day. Some of my other favorites on this list I'd only recommend based on your personal tastes, but this show should be watched by everyone. (The sequel and spin-offs, not so much. They all use the revues in a way that completely undermines the premise of the main series)

Heavenly Delusion - So fucking good. Second on this list, but I think it's the best show that came out this year. Deeply traumatic, but in such a satisfying way. The horror elements were so brutal and so well done, and I love that the man-eating monsters were the least gruesome part of the show. If it wasn't for the stinker of the ice monster episode, I think this could've been my favorite anime

Call of the Night* - Adored this show. Yes it's a celebration of the hedonism of vampires, but it's so earnest and down-to-earth with it that it feels so good to watch that I did it twice (sub and dub). I also got into the manga, which is sadly wrapping up next month, but hopefully that prompts an announcement about season 2

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End - Super chill show, which is a great way to wind down the week. It's such a cool concept too, following the adventurer after the adventure is over. It's just a reflection on life and I love it

The Witch from Mercury (cour 2) - Given that I run a sideblog just for this show, it might be surprising that it's so low on my list, but the second cour was a lot weaker than the first. Not nearly enough of Suletta and Miorine interacting, and way too much chaff following Guel's B-plot. I've said it before, but I think the worst part of this Gundam show is that it's a Gundam show. A+ epilogue though, and Suletta is still my favorite character this year

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off - I enjoyed the original comic and the live action movie. I didn't realize this new adaption was really a sequel, but it ended up being a great way to bring the old story to the modern decade. (Two decades later isn't much, but it was very of-its-time)

Spy x Family (cour 2) - Very fun show. Following several viewpoint characters means the individual episodes might be hit-or-miss (as much as I love Anya, the episodes at the school are relatively bland), but the overall package was sweet and enjoyable

Nimona - Another comic I really enjoyed. The movie was strong, although it cut a lot of parts out that I thought were important to the original story

The Orbital Children - Directed by the same person who directed one of my long-time favorites (Dennou Coil), the first two acts of this really felt like a modern update. Stunning visuals, great sci-fi, thrilling adventure. Went totally off the deep in the third act, though

Joshiraku* - As the characters pointed out, adapting a manga that takes entirely inside the green room of a stand-up comedy club is an odd choice. It was off-the-charts hilarious, though. Considering some of the scripts were entirely pun-based, it must've been an immense amount of work to translate, but they absolutely pulled it off

Oshi no Ko - The only reason I watched this show was because the OP was such a banger. (Several fantastic anime songs by YOASOBI this year, and Idol is easily my favorite.) The first, feature-length episode was incredible and I literally cried at the end. If it was a stand-alone movie, it would be a couple of spots higher on this list. The rest of the show was fine, but not really what I was here for. I'll probably still watch season 2 though

Arknights: Prelude to Dawn* - I bounced off the gacha game immediately, but the worldbuilding and character designs seemed cool, so I wanted to give the anime adaptation a chance. The plot was very thin but serviceable enough. At least it looked nice to watch.

The Magical Revolution of ... - Not typing that whole thing out. It was a cute show. The yuri stuff was nice, but I wish for a show about a magical inventor, there was a non-zero amount of magical inventing shown on screen

* indicates the show aired prior to 2023

A lot of shows I really loved this year. Looking forward to next year, the anime I'm most hyped for is obviously Dungeon Meshi. It looks like it's going to be incredible. The second season of Arcane is also scheduled to come out late next year, which is also very exciting. Technically Frieren has a second cour in January, but they're airing both cours as basically a single 24-episode season, so that doesn't really count

For older shows I mean to catch up on, YouTube has recced me clips of probably every single joke from K-On!, and it's really grown on me. Definitely going to watch that soon. I'm also in the mood to watch Bocchi the Rock! again. I should also make myself watch the first couple episodes of PMMM. Nothing I've seen on Tumblr has grabbed me for that one, but it's right in the middle of some of the other shows I was gushing about here and it would be dumb not to try it

[hwajin]

hi kathy! I'm here for the music asks 💌

I would like to know 4, 11, 15, 21, 29, 30 ♡⸝⸝

hi babe!! i'm sorry this took so long to answer i thought about every question METICULOUSLY this was so important to me 😭😭😭

4. three songs that you know thanks to your parents

Più che puoi — Eros Ramazzotti, Cher; i remember listening to that song all the time when i was little, my mom used to love it SOO much, it evokes such nostalgia 😭😭

Careless Whisper — George Michael; mom's obsessed with that song and i can't blame her tbh

Группа крови — Kino; a very old system-critisizing russian song my dad loves to this day LMAO, his and my music taste are vastly different so that's the only song we actually both like and listen to jfjejd

11. three favourite songs from movie or TV series soundtrack

Mystery of Love — Sufjan Stevens

Step Up — Samantha Jade; fav movie fav soundtrack 😍

so unserious but the riff-off in pitch perfect 1, yes i'm counting that as a song idc i love it 😭

15. three songs you want to dance with your love to

U Must Be — Gina Rene; step up again but i love this song SOOO much and the scene in the movie is my fav ever if i ever danced with the loml (hyunjin) to this i would die

Falling In Love — Cigarettes after Sex

Angel Baby — Troye Sivan

21. three songs of your childhood

these are gonna be so so SO random 😭😭

Vom selben Stern — Ich + Ich

Salut — Joe Dassin

Danza Kuduro — Dom Omar, Lucenzo 😭😭😭

29. three songs that influenced you most (some songs change or save lives)

Life of the Party — Shawn Mendes; so cheesy but that song turned my life upside down for me omg, made me view music differently and firstly made me a fangirl 🤞

Amnesia — 5 Seconds of Summer; can't explain how often i cried to this song and how fucking insane it was to see it live, changed my entire life fr

God's Menu — Stray Kids; got me into kpop/ skz and my life has never been the same ever since 🗣🗣🗣 i have that song to thank for bringing me hyunjin, forever grateful 🙏🙏🙏

30. three songs you really want your followers to know (for reasons other than all those above)

Blind — PRETTYMUCH

urs — NIKI

Heaven Angel — THE DRIVER ERA

[aufucker]

Yellow

Jack/BJ

CW: drugging, kidnapping, noncon

You don't recall what happened in the moment. A ride home in that odd car he had. You told him it wasn't good for the engine to keep it sitting for months at a time. You wallowed in the stink of sweat, cigarettes, and old upholstery, listening to whatever played from aux-rigged cassette he had.

You always thought his music taste was a little tacky.

You were tired and groggy. You didn't question when he pulled over to the side of the pitch black road. You barely had time to react when the damp cloth covered your nose and mouth, taking your consciousness with every gasp for air.

The trunk reeked worse than the cab, laced with a chemical smell that struck it as familiar. An attempt to clean it at some point.

It was cramped, your long legs curled into your body, your muscles pulling as you were shook and rattled. You don't know how long you were in there. You didn't know where you were going.

The engine cut off, the driver's door creaked under its own weight. The light in the trunk practically burned your eye as it finally opened and you were met with the beast in the animal's mask.

It always shocked you just how strong he actually was, pulling you from the trunk like an overstuffed bugout bag. You were grateful for the cloth gag that muted your shocked squeak.

Wrists burned from the zipties that dug into your skin, your bare legs and arms shook from the cold night air that the thin underwear he put you in did nothing to combat. You felt your heart drop to your stomach at the gleam of the small knife nestled in his knuckles.

Your aching limbs were cut free. You didn't hesitate to run.

You did what he wanted.

What you lacked in speed, you made up for in stride. Height helped, long legs helped, but you were still so groggy. Still so delirious. All so sore. Stones and dirt dug into your bare feet with every heavy step. You swore you could feel his breath burning the back of your neck, ready to clamp down.

A jackrabbit in a jackal's maw.

Weight hit you, legs failed. The ground below you was a smear that scraped at your bare skin. Then nails, then teeth. Clawing, biting, threatening to tear. The knife caught your eye again, cutting the thin underwear away - peeled off like the worthless flesh on a prickly pear.

Yelps and growls of prey being torn, skin ripped, muscles aching, tensing, locking--

"Ow, ow, ow! Fuck! Yellow! Yellow!" you finally cried.

Mossy eyes peeked from the pastered animal mask, whose snout was quickly lifted with a heavy huff. "You alright, B?"

"Leg cramp. Woof-- fuck... Gimme a second."

"Think you might be a bit too tall for my trunk, babe."

"You think?" You snorted. "Told you we should've taken my car."

[innerchorus]

(Youtube link)

@tired-reader-writer Okay, I'm still fucking obsessed with the album this song is from, but I can't help but think this one has some major 'Wolfpack AU Hilmes in the haunted temple' vibes. I'm just gonna drop the lyrics under a Read More.

[Verse 1] Is that a voice calling me softly? Nothing in here is quite how it seems Is that a whisper's touch or my fear? Am I awake or lost in old dreams?

Everything's so cold, the air is so still There should be nothing here to see Is this a warning, like in the Black Book? There can be no one else but me

[Verse 2] I see a darker shade of darkness I hear a shadow hide in the lie I feel a suffocating tension Within a terrible desire

Everything is so cold, the air is so still There should be nothing here to fear But I hear breathing, a child's laughter Can any part of this be real?

[Chorus] Everything I work for Everything I long for is always just too far Everything I hope for never comes to be Everything I bleed for burns a scar on me Everything I fight for leaves a bitter taste Everything I cry for laughs into my face Everything I scream for barely knows my name Everything I'd die for will die just the same In here, with me

[Verse 3] Is this the truth of your forgiveness? Are you the stranger stood at my door? Are you the end of things come calling? Are you the answer that I've wished for?

Everything's so cold, the air is so still And there is nothing here but me If I belong here, and this is mercy Then there is no place I'd rather be

[Chorus] Everything I worked for Everything I longed for was always just too far Everything I hoped for never came to be Everything I bled for burned a scar on me Everything I fought for left a bitter taste Everything I cried for laughed into my face Everything I screamed for barely knew my name Everything I died for died just the same In here, with me

I don't know whether it's your kind of music at all but there are so many elements of it that my brain wants to tie to Hilmes in the temple.

[johannesviii]

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2023

What a weird year for pop music, full of strange trends, confusing garbage and unexpected hits. Once again, even if the charts don’t always reflect it, music as a whole is currently very interesting to follow closely.

Disclaimers / Rules:

I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these lists. There’s songs that charted in my country way higher than they did in the US, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

No song that I already put on a previous list is elligible.

No old hit song that is re-charting due to a holiday or a trend is elligible either.

Of course there will probably be stuff in French somewhere on this post. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible.

I have sound-to-color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

A lot of bad stuff happened to me this year (several accidents in a row, and also my cat died) but some good stuff too, thank goodness. I only went to two concerts this year (Bloodywood and BMTH), but they were both absolutely amazing. Pretty sure the Bring Me The Horizon one was the best concert I ever went to, actually, and there's a lot of competition considering all the great ones I went to in 2022. I'm just sad 100 gecs had to cancel theirs, I was really looking forward to it. Oh well.

Let’s start with the good or interesting albums that came out in 2023, and oh my, that's a long list already.

Albums

Starting as usual with stuff that disappointed me: Depeche Mode's Memento Mori was... actually it was all right, but I miss the days when I could get excited about a new Depeche Mode album, I really do.

Pink Tape by Lil Uzi Vert was a giant fucking mess. There's some absolute bangers on it, and then you get to the next track and it's the worst thing you've ever heard. Which makes for an interesting listening experience, for sure, but one I'm in no hurry to repeat. At least it's never boring.

After the Magic by Parannoul isn't exactly my cup of tea, but you should definitely listen to it once, I think. It's something special. It might grow on me, though, because I only listened to it for the first time last month.

On the other hand, I listened to Scaring the hoes by Jpegmafia and Danny Brown a while ago, and while this one is definitely not my cup of tea, it's also a ton of fun and I don't feel like a single second of my time was wasted on it. You should listen to it for the samples alone, and just out of sheer curiosity if nothing else.

A kiss for the whole world by Enter Shikari is a weird beast, because the singles are absolutely incredible, but then the rest is a big pile of nothing (at least in my opinion). But the singles, man. I really don't know how to judge it as a whole, the quality is on a rollercoaster.

Kind of the same thing happened with Electric Sun by VNV Nation, one of my favorite bands of all times if not my favorite, if you recall. Some tracks completely floored me, the rest was meh. Oh well. Noire was so incredibly good that I can live with an average VNV album dropping after it.

Fanfare by Dorian Electra was full of absolute bangers but... I don't know, there's some of the madness of the previous record missing. And yes, I'm saying the album containing the minion line (you know the one) is more serious than My Agenda. Go figure. But it's still very good!

Two different friends told me to listen to 4D by Blank Banshee, so I did, obviously. Great electro album. Send tweet

I'm not entirely sure what to think of Atta by Sigur Rós. I cried several times while listening to it for the first time and it's a genuinely impressive series of tracks, but it's also so devastating I've only relistened to it twice since then.

I only discovered Svalbard a couple of years ago, and this year they dropped The weight of the mask, which might be even better than their previous album. It's mostly about depression and trying to fake normality while being depressed. Not a very pleasant topic, and yet this is full of energy and... hope? Everything sounds unbearably bright and between the screams, you feel like everything will be better eventually. Great stuff.

Speaking of depression, there's also No joy by Spanish Love Songs. If you recall their previous album was my album of the year a few lists ago. Their sound changed slightly, and at times it almost sounds like The Killers, but not in a bad way. There's a couple of tracks I don't like very much, but the writing is still on point, and some tracks are among my faves I put in the "unelligible songs" part.

Census Designated by Jane Remover, on the other hand, came out of nowhere just to kick me in the face. I don't even know what to say about that one. Go listen to it.

I found Gunship almost by accident a few months ago, and they immediately dropped a new album, called Unicorn. It's just a huge pile of great synthpop through and through - if you don't mind a couple of really stupid lines (godddd that third track is full of them). The other downside is that it's way too long (more than an hour), and if it was up to me, I'd remove at least four tracks from it. Unlike...

...10000 gecs by, who else, 100 gecs. It's less than half an hour long and it's so fun and so varied in its sounds and so stupid while still being incredibly well produced. For the longest time I couldn't decide which one of the last five albums on this list was my favorite, and then I relistened to all of them in a row and felt compelled to play this one a second time after I was done. Definitely worth the wait.

Unelligible Songs

This is kind of a non-hits rec list of sorts, but you know the drill. I also have to mention that two songs from previous lists (The Magic Key by One-T and Dernière Danse by Kyo 2003 represents) recharted this year for some unfathomable reason.

Gonna start with my fave tracks on some of the albums I already mentioned. Because why not.

The only song I consider great on the Depeche Mode album was People are good which sounds like character development considering People are people also exists

Speaking of Depeche Mode, one band arguably out-depeche-moded them this year so let me introduce you to ††† (Crosses) with Ghost ride, Invisible hand and Holier

Lil Uzi Vert is next with Suicide doors and its deranged intro immediately followed by FUCK YOU, AND FUCK YOUR BITCH then Uzi following that by stating they're the Crow. Yes, really. Also there's Werewolf, literally a Bring Me The Horizon song with Lil Uzi Vert on it, and if I had a nickel every time that happened this year I'd have two nickels, which isn't much but-

Wait let me interrupt this list with another song called Werewolf which I've listened to WAY too much this year. It's the kind of song you listen to ironically at first but after the tenth time that happens you realise it's no longer ironic and you love it for real. Seeing Motionless In White live kinda helped, not gonna lie, but still

For Enter Shikari, we have A kiss for the whole world, Bloodshot, and especially [pls] set me on fire, which might be one of my most listened to tracks of 2023, actually

VNV Nation had Wait, Invictus, and Artifice, which are all absolute bangers in my opinion. Ronan is angry and we love to hear it

By the way this year Pink released an extremely VNV-like song called Trustfall and it's very good but also uncanny

Kylie Minogue is also doing something vaguely similar with Hold on to now but in a more mainstream normal way btw

And then for something completely different, we have Dorian Electra singing about obsessive fans on Symphony, fame on Wanna be a star, and most importantly writing anon hate and immediately deleting it on anon

Run is the first track of the Blank Banshee album I rec'd and it's only one minute long so listen to it maybe

Technically I can recommend Gold if you want some taste of the Sigur Rós album but you need to listen to the entire album to get the full crushing effect

Svalbard isn't going to lighten up the mood with How to Swim Down and Faking it

Neither is Spanish Long Songs with Clean-up crew, Marvel, Here you are and Lifers, the last one being notable for having what's possibly my fave bridge of the entire year, and all of them for being endlessly quotable. Stay alive out of spite everyone

Also not lightening up the mood is Jane Remover with Census Designated on the album also called Census Designated

But what's this? It's Gunship with a steel chair trying to punch some joy into this list with Holographic heart, Nuclear Date Night, Taste like venom and Monster in paradise!!

And the gecs with a second steel ch- wait no it's a plastic chair shaped like a frog. Anyway here's Dumbest girl alive and Hollywood baby, and both of them go wayyy harder than they have any rights to

ok that was a lot of songs already. Here's Everything goes on by Porter Robinson as a palate cleanser

Also the first reggaeton song to ever end on one of my playlists, Sci-fi by Tainy and Rauw Alejandro

Also I'm gonna put a gif here otherwise Tumblr won't let me post something with such a long uninterrupted list in it

Ok back to the list of recs

Let's get the humiliation out of the way and say that this year I listened to Raining blood but it's super emo more than I ever listened to Raining blood in all my years combined

Oh yeah and Linkin Park released some old (finished and unfinished) tracks from the Meteora era and I'm kinda pissed off cause Lost missed the year end list. Fighting myself is excellent too, and if you want a really heartwrenching unfinished track, Resolution has a giant Chester-shaped hole where its chorus should be and the lyrics make it even worse. You're welcome

Possibly the most mainstream song on this entire rec list but I'm also pissed off Bad Idea right? by Olivia Rodrigo didn't chart enough to count for my top ten hit songs

I can offer you Eat the acid by Kesha if you want an awesome but mildly disturbing listening experience

For some electro/future pop here's Head over heels by Solitary Experiments

Wait there's also Bring the noise by Neuroticfish

Over is there if you need some Chvrches doing some Chvrching

Justice for Gladiator by Jann

Pointing at Even Jesus got the blues by Gabe Lee and saying I would listen to more country if it sounded half as good as that song, not like anyone cares

Holding on to nothing by Sierra. Send tweet

Northwind + Sky-colored dream by Strawberry Hospital and Parasite Heart is just seven minutes of cool pastel screams

And for an absolute goth banger everyone collectively decided to ignore here's Train to Harlem by Korine

I can't get enough of Nosebleeder by Lil Lotus and that's probably mildly embarrassing at my age but I've decided to stay mildly embarrassing forever

kisses by Slowdive if you want vibes and vibes only

Blood and sugar by Boys Like Girls if, like me, you want something that sounds exactly like The 1975

Choose your fighter by Ava Max if you want something that sounds exactly like Barbie Girl

I really wish I could explain what my feelings are every time I listen to The King by Anjimile but the only thing I'm sure about is that I'm feeling something a LOT and that it's terrifying

On a lighter note here's Mall rat by Durry, a very upbeat pop punk song about mall goth teenagers having fun and it's extremely good, listen to it immediately if you're having a bad day

And as some of you might have expected because of that previous gif, we're gonna finish with some Bring Me The Horizon, who have joined my list of favorite bands alarmingly quickly (that new album can't drop soon enough), and let's just say LosT and especially AmEN! were some of my absolute fave non-hit songs this year. Seriously. What the fuck was that.

And now, some elligible hits that didn't make the list.

Honorable Mentions

Tiki Taka (Vacra) - Afrobeats is the best thing that happened to the charts in recent years.

Shining Light (Aime Simone) - I wish I liked that artist more.

Unholy (Sam Smith & Kim Petras) - At first I didn't like this one, and then I headcanoned Kim Petras as a girl in a confessional and Sam Smith as the priest on the other side looking concerned but also weirdly into it, and suddenly it was a really funny song.

Dance the night away (Dua Lipa) - I'm pretty sure that's the song Chained to the Rhythm by Katy Perry is talking about

Casanova (Soolking) - This is a borderline guilty pleasure, and also it sounds like Magic System. Which is a bonus, by the way.

Calm Down (Rema) - Afrobeats is the best thing that happened to the charts in recent years 2: the sequel

Rush (Ayra Starr) - Afrobeats is the best thing that happened to the charts in recent years 3: the sequel to the sequel

Strangers (Kenya Grace) - Very good low-key track to play when you're driving at night

Bloody Mary (Lady Gaga) - What can I say. It's Lady Gaga. It's good.

I remember everything (Zach Bryan) - And for "songs that would be on the list if I had good taste-"

Going going gone (Luke Combs) - The last cut from the list. Great earworm, good writing.

THE ACTUAL TOP TEN LIST

This is a very solid list, actually. All of these things are still on some of my playlists to this day.

10 - Bad Habit (Steve Lacy)

US: #39 / FR: Not on the list

This was the last cut from my 2022 top 10 and it was a painful one, so imagine my joy when I saw it was elligible for this year's list too! Welcome back, Steve Lacy, your little song is still an earworm and a half even after all this time.

9 - Cruel Summer (Taylor Swift)

US: #18 / FR: Not on the list

I have no idea how a song that rhymes "oh woah oh" with "summer" can sound so good. Well played, madam. Well played.

8 - Star Walkin' (Lil Nas X)

US: Not on the list / FR: #67

Not the best Lil Nas X song by a mile, and still quite good! It plays a lot at the gym for some reason. The hype is real, even after hearing it pretty much every hour on the hour. And despite that weird, weird line about his dad.

Very surprised it's not on the US year-end list, by the way.

7 - Vois sur ton chemin (Bennett)

US: Not on the list / FR: #69

If you're creeped out by the AI-generated kids in the music video, I think that's kind of the point, which is why I can tolerate it for once.

Anyway, this is a remix of a choir song about lost kids, originally from a retro movie called Les Choristes which came out back when I was a teenager. And now it's been turned into a somewhat creepy techno remix of itself, and you know what's bad about that? Not a single thing actually. Play it again.

6 - Fast Car (covered by Luke Combs)

US: #8 / FR: Not on the list

If you remember correctly, Fast Car was the number one song of the very first list I made in this series (1988). And since this cover is so similar to the original song, I considered making it non-elligible for this list. I counted it in the end but put it kinda low compared to the original. It's only fair.

5 - Anti-hero (Taylor Swift)

US: #4 / FR: Not on the list

I was pretty indifferent to this one at the beginning of the year, but it slowly but surely grew on me. Everything has already been said about this song. So yeah, it's very good. I like it. It's on the list.

Moving on!

4 - Substitution (Purple Disco Machine x Kungs)

US: Not on the list / FR: #56

Some songs just make you want to move every single time you hear them, without fail. The thing is, this one plays a LOT on the radio in public settings, so catch me dancing in the aisles of the local supermarket every time it's on. It's like some memetic SCP bullshit.

At this point, it should be possible to make a great playlist with all the best retro-sounding hits we got in the past five years or so - and yeah, put this one on it too, for sure.

3 - Miracle (Ellie Goulding, Calvin Harris)

US: Not on the list / FR: #51

At some point this was my number one, and can you really blame me? An Ellie Goulding song with a drop that sounds exactly like a Robert Miles track? Really?

Then I realised I loved Robert Miles' tracks because of that dreamy piano/synth melody they all have, and that this song only had a drop/musical chorus that sounded like that, so something was missing. Oh well. Still a fantastic dance track, though.

2 - Escapism (Raye)

US: #48 / FR: Not on the list

Welcome to the other side of most of The Weeknd songs, I guess, but that's also what makes this track so compelling. The intro sounds like anxiety, and even when the song gets more pleasant to listen to it just never goes completely away - just like in the lyrics, in fact. Well written, well produced, everything is on point and if I had better taste it would probably be number one on this list.

Alas, I am what I am.

1 - Just wanna rock (Lil Uzi Vert)

US: #28 / FR: Not on the list

At some point, this was the third song on the list. Why shouldn't it be? It's so brainless compared to Escapism, and laughably short compared to Miracle. It's just a fragment of a song. It sounds like the intro of a track that will never start.

It's also by far my most replayed hit song on this entire top ten list and I can't justify that in any way. So yeah, putting anything else here felt like lying to myself. The fact it never really starts also means the hype never really ends. Going "daaaaaaaaaaaamn" along with Uzi's distorted vocals is so satisfying.

I just wanna rock, man. What a vibe. See you next year!