#song: nicest thing - kate nash

[blooming-violets]

Nicest Thing Peter x Reader for 11. In joy? I really like that fic. I reblogged it on my old account. I feel like thats an underrated fic of yours (maybe bc it came out in 2022? Idk). Would love to see what happened to them!

It's still one my favs because it is just so...me?? Like if I had to chose anything that represented my personality perfectly, it would be Nicest Thing. Just a depressed, sad bitch who loves angst and Peter Parker and enjoys Kate Nash. I feel like I need another Kate Nash song for this "sequel" fic. I'll base it off her song Trash because these two are trash for each other.

You can read this as a separate, on its own Peter x Reader thing if you'd like or you can read it as a future piece to Nicest Thing.

Warnings: Smoking a joint and getting stoned

If porn bots can over take all the tags then I better not get flagged for these gifs.

Peter looked at her through blazed out, squinting eyes. A haze of smoke filled their bathroom as they passed the joint back and forth between them. They were seated in the unfilled tub, fully clothed, and facing each other. She had made him take the spot next to the faucet under the claims that sitting over the drain made her feel “icky” like she might get sucked in. He didn’t mind. Even if their leaky faucet kept dripping cold water over his shoulder. 

“Do you remember the Rugrats episode when Tommy and Chuckie are afraid of getting sucked down the bathtub drain because Angelica tells them a story of some other baby who died that way?” He asked, handing her off the joint. 

She placed it between her lips and he watched with a slow blinking, admiration for her. He loved her. She had been with him through everything. He owed his entire life to her. Without her in his life, he would no longer be here. She was everything important in the world. 

She smiled, remembering, and let out the most beautiful laugh. She always got extra giggly when they smoked. It was one of his favorite sounds. 

“Don’t they fill the drain with play-doh and shit? It’s a weird reddish, pink color. Why do I remember that specific color so much?” She replied, mystified. 

Peter chuckled, “Because old school Rugrats was filled with some crazy ass imagery. It sticks in your mind.” 

“Yeah but I remember thinking that I specifically wanted to eat that color...like maybe it would taste nice…like the imaginary food from Hook.” She passed it back to him, letting the smoke exhale in a little, circular puffs from between her lips. 

“Do you want to get into a pretend food fight with me and see if anything appears?” He grinned. 

Her red rimmed eyes squinted back at him as she laughed, “With the way these munchies have been hitting me the past few minutes, I think it might actually happen. I could imagine food hard enough to make it show up.” 

His mind started to wander as a hungry smile spread across his face, imagining all the food he could eat, and he spoke with a dreamy whisper, “Pizza bagels.”

“What?”

“Let’s make pizza bagels. ‘M hungry. Starvin’. Gonna die if I don’t get some food in me.” 

Her eyes glowed with excitement at the idea, “Pizza bagels. Yes, you’re a genius!” 

“I know,” he giggled, it bubbled out of him without any self control. It wasn’t the weed that did it. It was her. He felt free when he was with her. He flicked out the joint against the ashtray balancing on the edge of the tub. “I really am. Smartest man alive, probably.” 

She snorted, “Okay, I wouldn’t go that far. Get your ego in check, Parker, before I have to slap some sense back into you.” 

He beamed at her, his love consumed him, feeling it outshine every other emotion rattling around inside of him. She was beautiful. Stunning. Picture perfect. He wanted to hang her up on his wall like an expensive piece of art so he could admire every day of his life. 

Her shoulders shrunk up to her ears under the intensity of his gaze.

“Stop that,” she whispered. “Don’t look at me with those eyes or I’ll kick you. I’ve got a perfect aim for your crotch in this position.”

Peter shook his head, “Nope, sorry, I refuse. I can’t help it. You look…perfect. The nicest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“You’re stoned.” 

“Yes. Doesn’t change the fact that your lips look very enticing.” He winked at her and tried to scoot forward to get a taste. 

Her socked foot landed against his chest, pushing him back in place, “I thought we were making pizza bagels, not kissing. Weren’t you just starving a minute ago?” 

“Starving for you, maybe.” 

“Peter!” She let out a loud laugh, keeping him at bay with her outstretched leg. 

He was so in love. Completely enamored. Whipped. Head over heels. Trash for her. Whatever he wanted to call it. He belonged to her so wholly. His bleeding heart was in her hand for the rest of his life. He would follow her to the ends of the earth and back again. 

“If you don’t let me kiss you right this very second, I am going to turn this shower on.” His hand reached over his shoulder to grip onto the shower knob with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 

She gave a sharp inhale, “You wouldn’t dare.” 

His eyebrows raised, taking on that challenge, “Oh really?”

She knew she fucked up the second before the shower burst to life. From his position in the tub, it shot over his head to spray directly into her face. She shrieked and fell back, sliding down the sloped edge of the tub until she was nearly on her back.

It was all the opportunity he needed to pounce. He leapt on top of her to the sound of her laughter and blocked the shower stream from her face with his back. His arms wrapped protectively around her head as he laid over her. Water pooled around them, warming their bodies, and soaking through their clothes. 

They didn’t feel it. 

All he could feel was the devoted love burning a hole in his chest where his heart used to be. 

She giggled up at him, blinking water droplets from her eyes, and whispered, “You’re an ass.”

He laughed in response and crashed his lips over hers, mumbling against them, “You love me.” 

She sighed in content. Her arms snaked around his neck to draw him closer, melting happily into his kiss. 

“I do.”

[natasomewhere]

Absolutely their song 🙌

All I know is that you're so nice

You're the nicest thing I've seen

I wish that we could give it a go

See if we could be something

I wish I was your favorite girl

I wish you thought I was the reason you are in the world

I wish my smile was your favorite kind of smile

I wish the way that I dressed was your favorite kind of style

I wish you couldn't figure me out

But you'd always wanna know what I was about

I wish you'd hold my hand

When I was upset

I wish you'd never forget

The look on my face when we first met

(POLIN FLASHBACK 🤞🤞🤞)

I wish you had a favorite beauty spot

That you loved secretly

'Cause it was on a hidden bit

That nobody else could see

Basically, I wish that you loved me

I wish that you needed me

I wish that you knew when I said two sugars

Actually I meant three

I wish that without me your heart would break

Yeah, I wish that without me you'd be spending the rest of your nights awake

I wish that without me you couldn't eat

(THIS IS IMPORTANT IN COLIN’s CASE 😁)

Yeah, I wish I was the last thing on your mind before you went to sleep

Look, all I know is that

You're the nicest thing I've ever seen

And I wish we could see if we could be something

Yeah, I wish we could see if we could be something

(«Nicest thing» by Kate Nash since forever in my playlist)

[studywgabi]

Songs

A (Cliched) List of Songs That Capture the Loneliness, the Self-Loathing, and the Desperate Desire to be Loved (In No Particular Order):

Blood and Fire - The Indigo Girls

My Skin - Natalie Merchant

Nobody - Mitski (obviously)

Crack Baby - Mitski

Alone Forever - Leanna Firestone (criminally underrated)

Je Sais Pas Danser - Pomme (Could I be more pretentious?)

At Seventeen - Janis Ian

Long, Long Time - Linda Ronstadt

Tous Les Garcons et Les Filles - Francoise Hardy (Apparently so)

Please Send Me Someone to Love - Sade

Come On, Aphrodite - Natalie Merchant

Nicest Thing - Kate Nash

Love Will Come to You - Indigo Girls

Chasing Pavements - Adele

All I Need - Radiohead

Creep - Radiohead (Couldn't resist)

If No One Ever Marries Me - Natalie Merchant

I Will - The Beatles

Another Day - Paul McCartney

Liability - Lorde

People Watching - Conan Gray

Body - Mother Mother

Fat Funny Friend - Maddie Zahm

I'm Your Man - Leonard Cohen

IDK You Yet - Alexander 23

Waiting Room - Phoebe Bridgers

Goodbye to Love - Phoebe Bridgers

How Soon is Now? - The Smiths

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want - The Smiths

Asleep - The Smiths

Unloveable - The Smiths

Your Best American Girl - Mitski

Valentine - Fiona Apple (My favorite)

Winter - Tori Amos

As I Am - Joan Jett

A (Much Shorter) List of Songs that Describe How I Wished I Felt Instead- Strong Enough on My Own and Accepting of the Fact That I'm Alone:

Aphrodite - Honey Gentry

No Man's Woman - Sinead O'Connor

You're On Your Own, Kid - Taylor Swift

Beautiful - Christina Aguilera

Perhaps Even More Embarrassing (if Possible), A List of Songs that Describe How I Would Love Someone and How I Want to be Loved. I Love these Songs, and I want to Relate to them Someday:

Je Suis D'Accord - Francoise Hardy

We'll Never Have Sex - Leith Ross

The First Taste - Fiona Apple

Your Body is a Wonderland - John Mayer

Thirteen - Big Star

Limon Y Sal - Julieta Venegas

Jupiter - Flower Face

Head Over Feet - Alanis Morrisette

Arabella - Arctic Monkeys

Strong Enough - Sheryl Crow

Oh My Love - John Lennon

Eres - Cafe Tacvba

(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman - Aretha Franklin

Safe and Sound - Taylor Swift

I'll Get the Coffee - Kathryn Gallagher

Still Into You - Paramore

John, I Love You - Sinead O'Connor

Heal the Pain - George Michael

And I Love You So - Don McLean

Brown Eyed Girl - Van Morrison

Samba Pa Ti - Santana

An "Our Song"

Feel free to add your own songs and what they mean to you. I hope you're being kind to yourself today, darlings.

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

Play • Foundations • Mouthwash • Dickhead • Birds • We Get On • Mariella • Shit Song • Pumpkin Soup • Skeleton Song • Nicest Thing • Merry Happy

Spotify ♪ YouTube

[backtosmallthings]

tagged by @livesunderawaterfall

shuffle your playlist/library and make a poll out of the first five songs that come up

@sparkly-angell @1cafezinho @wokegallagher @imjustahairygirl

[fitrahgolden]

Lilies and Soap

—

"You could consume this scene through me

And assess the same majesty

But you could never know the welfare, the glee

That being in the presence of your beauty throws at me"

- "Share in the View" by Lilies and Soap. Lyrics by A. E. Bridgerton and K. K. Sharma.

—

"Looking good, Lamb!" Anthony whistled obnoxiously at Kate, who was leaving the hair and makeup area of the small studio.

"Come off it. They barely did anything."

"Well, doesn't that make it even more of a compliment?"

"If you were being serious, I suppose it might."

"Oh, but I am."

Kate sighed, exasperated. "Fine. Thank you. So kind of you to say." She curtsied, making Anthony laugh.

A producer walked up to them and pointed toward the camera and chairs setup. "Alright, we're ready for you. If you'll just head over there, we can get started."

Kate nudged Anthony with her shoulder as they walked over. "Nervous?"

"Nah. We've done interviews before."

"First time on camera, though." Kate fiddled with her necklace. Anthony put his hand over hers to still her fingers.

"Then just don't mind the camera, Lamb. It'll be fine."

Kate smiled up at him as a journalist approached them with an outstretched hand.

"Hi! I'm Etta, with MOJO Magazine. So nice to meet you, Anthony, Kate."

After everyone exchanged handshakes, Anthony and Kate were directed to the elevated chairs situated opposite Etta. Anthony helped Kate up into hers.

“Thank you, Tony.”

“Oh,” Etta looked down at her notes as she settled into her chair. “Do you go by ‘Tony’?”

Anthony smirked. “Not generally, no.”

“So, is Tony, like, a family nickname?”

“No, it's, uh… Well," Anthony looked over to his bandmate. "It’s a Kate nickname.”

“Aw, that’s adorable.”

Anthony shrugged. “She's adorable, aren't you, Lamb?” he teased as he tugged on Kate’s hair.

Kate batted his hand away. “Arsehole,” she muttered.

—

Coming soon...ish? (Hopefully, maybe, possibly.)

As a primer, here a playlist to give you an idea of the kind of band Lilies and Soap is.

And here is the list of songs here:

“9 Crimes” by Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan

“Fade Into You” by Mazzy Star

“Colorblind” by Counting Crows

“Relator” by Pete Yorn and Scarlett Johansson

“Stay” by Rihanna and Mikky Ekko

“Dancing On My On” cover by Calum Scott

“Collide” by Tianna Major9 and EARTHGANG

“Higher Love” cover by James Vincent McMorrow

“I Wanna Be Yours” by Arctic Monkeys

“Nicest Thing” by Kate Nash

“broken (acoustic)” by lovelytheband

“Back at Your Door” by Maroon 5

“Wait” by Alexi Murdoch

“Upward Over the Mountain” by Iron & Wine

"Out Loud" by HRVY

“Wanna Be On Your Mind” Valerie June

“Crystalised” by the The xx

"Oh! Sweet Nuthin'" by The Velvet Underground

"Cecilia" by Simon and Garfunkel

"Last Goodbye" by Jeff Buckley

"Make Me Feel" by Janelle Monáe 

"Your Baby Ain't Sweet Like Mine" by Carolina Chocolate Drops

"Crash Into You" by Dave Matthews Band

"Wicked Game" Chris Isaak

"Happier (Stripped)" by Marshmello and Bastille

“Little Talks” by Of Monsters and Men

“Ain’t No Sunshine” by Bill Withers

“Don’t Hurt Yourself” by Beyonce and Jack White

“To Love Somebody” cover by Ray Lamontagne and Damien Rice

“Ever Fallen In Love” cover by Pete Yorn

“Nothing Better” by Postal Service

"Samson" by Regina Spektor

"Everlasting Light" by The Black Keys

"Amsterdam" by Coldplay

"I Will Follow You Into The Dark" by Death Cab For Cutie

"You Don't Know What Love Is (You Just Do As You're Told)" by The White Stripes

"Top Yourself (Bluegrass Version)" by The Raconteurs

[otterandterrier]

okay so, I think listening to the spotify mixes might not be such a bad idea... on one hand it brings back old songs I've favourited but don't listen to anymore because they're not in any playlists (hello Mumford and Sons?? Nicest thing by Kate Nash?? Colour me in by Damien Rice??), but also because I'm finding more Ship Songs!

and this makes me think I really should be making more proper Han/Leia mixes rather than keep adding to the massive, random single playlist that is currently at 191 songs and 12 hours. like, I could make a pre-esb mix. a trip to Bespin mix. a rotj mix. so on.

is this the worst possible time of the year for it? yes. yes it is.

will I do it anyway? ....

[daydreamtofiction]

Playlist #2 // Glass

Listen Here

Chapters 1-10

Opening Titles - David Arnold, Michael Price

Don’t Dream it’s Over - Crowded House

Amber Eyes - Jon Winterstein

Crates of Books - David Arnold, Michael Price

Ala - Joep Beving

Gardermoen - Julia Kent

Intro - The xx

Wicked Game - Chris Isaak

Closer - Kings of Leon

The Game Is On - David Arnold, Michael Price

Irene’s Theme - David Arnold, Michael Price

LDF - 100 Monkeys

The Woman - David Arnold, Michael Price

Hurt For Me - SYML

Back To Work - David Arnold, Michael Price

You Are a Memory - Message To Bears

you should see me in a crown - Billie Eilish

Me and the Devil - Soap&Skin

listen before i go - Billie Eilish

Blood on the Pavement - David Arnold, Michael Price

Chapters 11-19

Timshel - Mumford & Sons

Mary - Kings of Leon

#SherlockLives - David Arnold, Michael Price

I Gave You All - Mumford & Sons

When Anger Shows - Editors

Wind Song - Ludovico Einaudi

Run Boy Run (Instrumental) - Woodkid

To Build A Home - The Cinematic Orchestra, Patrick Watson

Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy) - John Lennon

Security Cameras - Michael Price, David Arnold

Zoetrope - Joep Beving

April - The Lumineers

Sinnerman - Nina Simone

Sewn - The Feeling

Potential Clients - Michael Price, David Arnold

Fear of the Water - SYML

You Won’t Feel a Thing - The Script

Status Symbol - David Arnold, Michael Price

Tell Her This - Del Amitri

Domestic Pressures - Jóhann Jóhannsson

Dream 1 (before the wind blows it all away) Pt. 8 - Max Richter

Stag Night - David Arnold, Michael Price

Divenire - Ludovico Einaudi

Waltz for John and Mary - David Arnold, Michael Price

Amber Eyes - Poor Saint Lazarus

Lies - MARINA

hostage - Billie Eilish

Chapters 20-33

I Wanted to Leave - SYML

Eros - Ludovico Einaudi

Hotline Bling - Gibran Alcocer

Magnussen - David Arnold, Michael Price

ceilings - Lizzy McAlpine

Prepared to do Anything - Michael Price, David Arnold

Youth - Daughter

Blackbird - The Beatles

In the Kitchen - Mree

Always the Grown Up - Michael Price, David Arnold

Can’t Keep It Inside - Brett Dennen, Benedict Cumberbatch

Library Books - Michael Price, David Arnold

Female of the Species - Space

Etude - Joep Beving

Seduction - Adam Hurst

Tell Me The Truth - Two Feet

Truth - Balmorhea

Nicest Thing - Kate Nash

Driving With The Brakes On - Del Amitri

In Between Breaths - SYML

Appledore - David Arnold, Michael Price

Experience - Ludovico Einaudi

Letters From The Sky - Civil Twilight

Chapters 33-39

The Stranger - David Arnold, Michael Price

Solas - Jamie Duffy

Nocturnal - Joep Beving

Signing - David Arnold, Michael Price

Slide - Jake Bugg

AGRA - David Arnold, Michael Price

Gunshot - David Arnold, Michael Price

Icarus - PHILDEL

Chapters 40-50

Everybody Dies - Billie Eilish

Angst - Agent Fresco

Margaux - Matilda Mann

The Problems of Your Future - David Arnold, Michael Price

Lay All Your Love On Me - The Butterfly Effect

The East Wind - David Arnold, Michael Price

Stayin Alive - Bee Gees

Bitter and Sick - One Two

Brother Mine - David Arnold, Michael Price

Hearing - Sleeping At Last

Forsaken - Adam Hurst

i love you - Billie Eilish

No Fait Awaits Me - Son Lux, Faux Fix

everything i wanted - Billie Eilish

Next To Me - Civil Twilight

That Home - The Cinematic Orchestra

Glass - Hania Rani

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: The Nicest Thing

Read on Ao3

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Santi x you/librarian!reader, Frankie x same reader, eventually Marcus Pike x same reader

Warnings: This one is a mess of angst, bad self esteem, shame, kind of slut shaming of the self, kind of sloppy seconds, kind of cheating but not really, super bad judgment calls, alcohol is involved, PiV sex, other people hearing you have sex, cunnilingus, basically public sex in a car, hangover. I think I got all of it?

Words: 5,740

Summary: After having turned down Frankie, the nice dad who visited you regularly in your workplace the library with his daughter, you meet Santiago and hook up. However, you had no idea who Santi's best friend is...

A/N: This is a sequel to What We Don't Know Can't Hurt Us. It's been long in the making but here we go. I originally started writing this together with @missredherring but she later bequeathed the story to me. Props to her thought for getting me started on this! This is not a happy story, so be aware of that. Song to go with it: The Nicest Thing by Kate Nash.

All I know is that you're so nice

You're the nicest thing I've seen

I wish that we could give it a go

See if we could be something

Your heart drops when you see Frankie come to a stop by the table you managed to grab for you in the busy bar, and you feel sick when he nods his hello to Santiago.

Frankie is one of Santi’s friends.

His brown gaze rests on your face and you can barely return it. You haven’t seen him at work anymore: after he asked you out and you turned him down, you talked to your supervisor and asked to be transferred from the children’s section. You didn’t want to see Frankie or his kid again and the section for adult fiction seemed like a safer place when wanting to avoid a single father and a child. The library, a space you always enjoyed spending your days in, became something of a video game where you were constantly on your guard, always dreading the sudden appearance of a handsome man armed with a shy, kind smile.

You never saw him at work again but now he’s standing right in front of you in this bar. Frankie, here, with you and Santiago, your new boyfriend – no, not boyfriend: fuck buddy – are to meet his friends for a couple of drinks. Santi makes the introductions and Frankie extends his hand, pretending not to know you. Oh. Okay.

“Good to meet you,” you mumble, shaking his hand quickly before releasing it, like you burned yourself.

Two more show up as well, brothers, and you realize that they are the ones that Frankie mentioned to you a couple of times when talking to you in the library, you keeping an eye on the service desk and he on his girl. Hopefully, the men won’t put two and two together and realize who you are. You’re pretty sure Frankie has mentioned you to them. If not Frankie, then his kid. Judging from how the men are asking Frankie how Sofia is doing, they’re all a tight bunch who know his kid and are actively involved in her life in some way.

You keep a low profile, smiling and answering questions politely without initiating any conversation. Santi’s hand is on your thigh most of the evening, and you do nothing to remove it. But in the presence of Frankie, whom you so very recently turned down because of his history, the hand on you starts to feel heavy and wrong.

You met Santiago not long after that catastrophic goodbye to Frankie. Your girlfriends thought you needed a night out, have some fun, get laid, and you decided to at least try in order to get your mind off the Frankie mess. When Santi’s velvety dark eyes met yours across the dancefloor of a club, you weren’t hard-pressed to accept his invites. He was a great dancer, moving his strong body sensually, always with a hand on your hip or your waist, occasionally on your ass. He was funny. He was a good kisser. He was great in bed, where you ended up with him that very same night.

He was handsome and charming, and you were honestly surprised that he texted you the next day. You met up, mostly for sex, but he would actually cook for you as well. He courted you before blowing your back out, and you appreciated that. He was thoughtful that way.

But you didn’t see yourself ending up with him, not long-term. You sensed that he wasn’t the type. And while you decidedly enjoyed fucking him, you didn’t see yourself ever loving him. You were having fun, that was all. Sure, you probably wanted more in the future from some other man but right now, this was enough. You felt beautiful and appreciated in bed with Santi, but you knew this thing has an end date.

And now, with this new revelation, it’s pretty clear that you’ve reached the end date. It’s tonight, right this minute. This isn’t right. But for some reason, you can’t seem to just get up, excuse yourself, and leave. Maybe it’s your mother’s voice deep inside your brain, telling you to be a good girl no matter how uncomfortable you are, just smile and nod, or maybe you feel sorry for Santi. Or, quite possibly, you just enjoy being in Frankie’s presence again. You avoid his stare but you feel it on you, your skin tingles with it, and you find yourself craving it. When Santi kisses you it feels wrong but exciting. You lock eyes with Frankie right after the kiss, blushing when you see the conflict painted on his face, plain for everyone to see before he seems to catch himself and carefully arrange his features into something more neutral.

The evening drags on and you drink a little too much. When an afterparty at Santi’s place is suggested, you are too dazed to protest. So you go with them, get into Will’s truck with Santi and Benny, Frankie driving himself. At Santi’s place, you end up on his lap while Frankie, Benny, and Will fool around the living-room. Benny is a bit of a brawler and keeps challenging his brother to wrestling matches. Santi accepts a challenge as well, leaving you on the couch for a drunken wrestle on the floor. Casually, Frankie sits down next to you, a little too close. He looks at you with heavy-lidded eyes. What he didn’t drink at the bar in order to be in driving condition, he’s making up for now. You ignore his gaze stubbornly but it’s hard because he’s just so near you. You feel his thigh against you and his shoulder is crowding you towards the arm rest… it’s torture. It’s ridiculous how bothered it makes you. How horny. How guilty and disgusting. Why does he have to smell so good? Old leather and sweat and beer and something sweet like… pomegranate?

You try to focus instead on the juvenile and idiotic match between Santi and Benny but the question that keeps ringing in your head is: What are you even doing here? Why are you still here where these two men that you don’t even want are pretending to fight each other for your hand?

Frankie leans closer. “Sofia asks about you.”

“Don’t,” you mumble, still refusing to look at him. You may have stared brazenly at him earlier when Santi’s lips and hands were on you but now you just feel dirty. You should leave, just take your shit and leave. But you don’t have your car and you’re too drunk to drive, anyway. Maybe an Uber?

A winner seems to be declared in the fight and Santi staggers over to the couch, grabbing your hand and pulling you up. He kisses you, panting from the wrestling, his alcohol breath puffing in your face making you wrinkle your nose.

“I think I’ll get an Uber,” you suggest carefully. “It’s getting late and I’m tired.”

“I’m not letting you into an Uber by yourself,” Santi shakes his head, suddenly sobering up. “No way. Stay the night.”

For some reason you end up agreeing. Maybe it’s pity: you know you’re going to break up with him – or whayever it is one does with a fuck buddy – or maybe you just want to spend one last night in his company. Whatever it is, the two of you end up in his bedroom, kissing desperately, Santi’s confident hands touching you in all the right places with the exact pressure you crave. He stops to make sure you are consenting in your inebriated state and doesn’t go on until you’re begging him to fuck you. When he finally pushes into your quivering cunt, he’s wearing a rubber and you’re already shaking from two orgasms he gave you with his fingers. He fucks you fast and hard, like he usually does; not without precision, but with a heated urgency that he keeps up for much longer than you ever expected. It’s his thing but it doesn’t make any less thrilling now than the first time. His skin turns shiny from sweat but he keeps nailing you to the mattress without showing any signs of slowing down, nearing his climax, or getting tired. You suddenly realize that it’s because you don’t matter to him more than he matters to you. If the two of you were committed and in love, would he be cradling your head against his shoulder, whispering in your ear how good you feel, how well you take him, how lucky he is to be fucking you like this, how he want to keep fucking his good girl like this until the end of time? Instead, he keeps himself high above you, arms straight in a push-up position, as he thrusts into you until he pulls out and makes you turn around so that he can continue from behind. His stamina hasn’t suffered as he goes on pounding you for at least another ten minutes while you struggle more and more to keep your voice down. The two of you may not share an emotional connection but fuck, he’s good, you’ve never been fucked like this in your entire life, it’s so insanely good and it will get even better when you cum on his cock, so you reach between your legs and rub your clit furiously, your moans rising with the tightening of the string deep within you. When it finally snaps you shout out and Santi curses, his thrusts turning more erratic.

“Can I cum on your ass?” he pants and you wail out a Yes! to which he replies with a growl as he pulls out of you, slaps your ass, then grunts loudly as the condom snaps off and he spurts hot cum on your ass and lower back.

He cuddles you for a little while after but the alcohol and orgasm are overpowering him and he’s out like a light, snoring blissfully next to you. You lie awake in the dark, exhausted and satisfied but unable to sleep because of his loud snores. You’ve spent nights with him before but he has always slept quietly and you guess the alcohol has something to do with his vibrating tissues.

The sound of steps in the apartment outside the closed bedroom door makes you freeze. Is someone still here? Didn’t everyone leave? Will would drive Benny but Frankie did drive his own truck here.

Oh no. No. Is Frankie still here? You vaguely remember something about crashing on the couch and driving home tomorrow morning, but you can’t be sure. Oh God. He’s heard everything, he must have.

You feel sick and tears of shame burn in your eyes. Slowly, your head aching with the beginnings of a hangover, you sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. Quietly and without turning on the light you collect your clothes and get dressed, managing to put everything on right without waking Santi. Eventually, you slip out of the bedroom and slink into the kitchen for a glass of water.

The empty bottles and beer cans smell revolting, and there’s a slice of pizza sitting alone in an opened, greasy box. You don’t even remember having pizza earlier but you’re not hungry so it must be so. Turning on the tap and letting the water run until it’s ice cold, you fill a large glass and then drink all of it in one go.

Heavy footsteps enter the kitchen behind you and you turn around, heart in your throat.

Frankie, his t-shirt wrinkled and his wavy, thick hair tousled. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a week.

“Did you know?” he asks you in a low voice. Your frown tells him that you have no idea what he’s talking about, so he specifies:

“Did you know that he was a friend of mine?”

“No.” You shake your head, relieved that you can at least be honest about this, but terrified that the conversation turned to this giant elephant in the room immediately.

“He doesn’t do relationships, you know.”

“That’s not what this is,” you immediately let him know, then correct yourself: “Was.”

“Maybe you could try Will next.” Frankie’s harsh tone is like the slice of a well-sharpened knife. “Goldilocks is maybe more your type.”

You bristle despite feeling like absolutely shit about yourself.

“If this is how you are when you don't get your way, Frankie, then I'm glad we didn't get together.”

It hurts, but he has no right. You bet he’d never talk like this to Santiago. It’s probably bros before hos there, a pat on the back, an “I love you, hermano”, and you’ll be just an ugly memory.

You want to get away but Frankie’s blocking the kitchen door and while you don’t think that he would hurt you, there’s again that good girl voice inside you that tells you to stay and deal with this. You made your own bed with this and now you have to lie in it.

“Why him?” Frankie now demands, but there is no heat in his voice, only sadness. Nevertheless, it gets you worked up. Why does he think he has the right to question you like this? The honest, ugly truth is on the tip of your tongue.

Because he doesn't have a kid. Because I can't see the hurt of his last relationship still in his eyes.

But you can’t say that, it’s unfair. How much you want him and how much you know that the two of you won’t be good is unfair. The whole situation is unfair. It’s not Frankie’s fault he has a kid and a failed marriage behind him. It’s not your fault that you don’t want that, it’s not him, it’s his past, it’s just a dealbreaker for you.

“It just happened,” you offer helplessly. “I didn’t know. It just happened.”

You don’t owe him anything, you know that, but it’s Frankie – the sweet, kind man who would talk to you during your tedious hours at the children’s section, who would ask you about your day so far, about your job, whose child would be so well-behaved that you allowed yourself to fantasize about the father despite knowing you didn’t want a child in your life. It’s still that Frankie, his handsome face, the beautiful, soft brown eyes, that hair that you had hoped to maybe be able to touch one day. His smile that just made you want to open your heart as well as your legs.

You feel the tears rising again, and you sniffle and put down your glass.

“I think I should leave.”

For some reason, you grab a half empty vodka bottle from the kitchen table as you elbow past Frankie. Without your purse and your coat, you just shove your feet into your shoes, fumble with the lock, and stumble out. You take a deep swig of the vodka with the insane intent of drinking until you don’t have to feel any longer, but the liquor is room temperature and tastes foul in your already stale, dry mouth. As soon as you’re out of the apartment complex, you take another swig and fish your phone out of your pocket.

“Hey!”

You don’t turn around when you hear Frankie’s voice. Instead, you’re trying to see enough of your phone screen to open the Uber app.

“What are you doing?” Frankie has now caught up with you and is taking the bottle from your hand. You whine in protest but he just throws it to the side. The glass shatters in the dark and you realize that it’s chilly and you don’t have your coat or purse, so you have no keys.

“I’m trying to get home,” you mutter. “I need to get home.”

“You can’t go without a coat. And I’m not letting you go anywhere by yourself in your state.”

“Oh, so now you suddenly care about me, huh?” You want it to sound angry but you’re sobbing. The mere idea that Frankie cares about you is… heartbreaking.

“I do care about you.”

You look up at him, your hand holding the phone slowly falling to hang by your side, the phone slipping out of your grip and clattering to the asphalt. You’re shivering now, both from the cold and the shock, the adrenaline, the hangover, and as you try to speak, you find your teeth are chattering too hard. Frankie wraps his arms around you, quickly, and pulls you into his broad, warm chest. He’s in his t-shirt but still so warm. How can he be so warm?

“I care about you,” he repeats in a low whisper, and your arms slowly rise to his waist, where they tentatively come to hold him. Frankie hugs you closer still and you take it as an invitation for you to hug him tighter. So you do, and you start to feel his warmth seep into your limbs, your chest, your stomach, concentrating in a pool low in your groin.

“Frankie,” you whisper, turning your face up towards his. Your eyes fall close when you feel his lips on your cheekbones, kissing away your tears.

“I got you,” he promises, a soft puff of warm air against your face. “Don’t cry, querida. It’s alright.”

For a moment, you believe him. And you act on it, letting your lips find his softly, almost shyly. You have wondered for so long what it would be like to kiss him, and now it’s okay to do so. It’s okay, it’s alright, you tell yourself, and so you brush your lips over his, gently, with feeling. His chin and cheeks are filled with bristles that scrape your skin a little but it’s what you anticipated. Your raise one hand from his waist to his cheek and trace the patchy beard, touch the bald spots that you have been wondering about. You don’t ask him about them, though: there are so many other things that you want your mouth to do. You want to kiss him, kiss him for the rest of the night, and so you carefully slip your tongue out to lick at his lips, and Frankie parts them and lets you in, sucks you in with his own tongue, and before you know it you’re making out like teenagers and feeling just as young and stupid and horny.

His truck keys are in his pocket, you can feel the hard outline of them through the denim, and that’s not the only stiff outline poking at you. You rub yourself against him and he breaks the kiss for a moan.

“I want you,” you gasp, cupping his cheeks. “Frankie, I’ve wanted you since – “

“I know.” His hands come to your cheeks and you stand in the cold dark on an apartment building parking lot, staring into each other’s eyes and seeing anything only because you happen to be standing right next to the ring of light of a street lamp.

“Let’s go inside,” he tells you, his baritone dripping with want that makes your gut drop from desire. You’re brought back to where exactly you are: outside of Santiago’s apartment. Santiago, you’re fuck buddy. Frankie’s friend. You can’t.

“No,” you shake your head. “Your truck.”

You expect him to protest but he doesn’t, only takes your hands off his cheeks and pulls you away with him. He unlocks the car and pushes you up against the door, trapping you for a deep, hungry kiss that tastes of beer and a budding morning breath.

“You sure?” he asks you in a low voice. You take his hand and bring it between your legs.

“Yes.”

He helps you into the backseat, gets in after you, and shuts the door. It’s dark and cold but he drapes himself over you and breathes warmth into you with his kisses and wandering hands. He explores your body, so unlike Santi who seemed to just go for specific spots on you that he figured to be erogenous. Frankie caresses every inch of you, pausing when your breath hitches or a moan escapes you. He gets in under your clothes, under your skin even, and your head spins when he whispers into your ear how beautiful he finds you.

“Sweetheart, can I go down on you? Will you be able to cum on my mouth?”

You swallow hard and find your tongue for a whimpered yes.

“Say it,” he begs of you, not commanding you to use words but pleading with you to communicate what it is you need.

“Go down on me, Frankie, please.”

He kisses you deeply, with a slow passion that promises more for nights to come, before working his way down your body. After some rearranging and some limbs knocking into each other, followed by ouch! and giggled apologies as well as soothing kisses, you’re reclining naked against the corner of the backseat and side door. Frankie is half on the floor, half on the seat, licking your tits with dedication, his big fingers softly teasing your wet folds, conjuring all kinds of sounds from you. When he finally slides lower you’re almost embarrassed at how wet you already are, but Frankie soon has you dripping as he starts to lick his tongue into you, gathering your slick and spreading it all over you. When he latches onto your clit and sucks, you scream straight out from the shocking intensity. Your bury one hand in his hair and hold onto the door handle with the other, sobbing when he goes on sucking your clit before finally relinquishing it and switching to licks.

Santi would eat your pussy with a clear purpose in mind: orgasm. Frankie eats it with another agenda: pleasure, a long rollercoaster of ups and downs before he finally unhooks the train from its tracks and has you falling through the air and plunging into his arms. He doesn’t finish until the car windows are fogged up and you’re begging him with kicking legs.

“You taste so good,” he tells you with a satisfied sigh as he comes up to kiss you, his lips obscenely slick and the taste of you overpowering the staleness of teeth unbrushed.

“Could eat you all night,” he mumbles, “but I’d like to be inside you as well.”

“I’d like that too,” you smile, dazed but aching for him. You push him off of you and sit up, groaning a little at a strained muscle. When you start to unbuckle his belt, Frankie puts his hands on yours to stop you.

“I… don’t have any condoms. I’m sorry.”

“I’m on the pill,” you assure him. “And I’ve always used protection with… other men.”

“I’ve used condoms too, not that I’ve had the opportunity in a long while.” He sounds hesitant.

“If you don’t want to, Frankie…“

“I want to,” he cuts you off, “but I don’t want you to feel obligated. You can just jerk me off. Or I can do it myself.”

You know you’re clean and you sincerely doubt that Frankie has had any action in a while. And you need him inside you, there’s no way it’s not happening tonight.

“No,” you tell him and continue to open his fly. “We’re doing this. I want to, Frankie.”

His pants come off and his cock springs free, thick and veiny and a lot bigger than you had expected. Your cheeks flush red at the thought of having it bursting deep inside, and you’re happy it’s dark so that Frankie can’t see you. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve seen a dick, after all.

You straddle him in the middle of the back seat, sighing out a throaty moan when Frankie comes forward to lick one of your nipples before closing his lips around it and suckling it softly, tweaking the other nipple between forefinger and thumb. You find him between the two of you, get up on your knees, and nock him at your entrance. You hold your breath when you slide down his thick shaft, all the way down to the thick base. Frankie’s gaze is interlocked with yours, his lips are parted and he’s breathing audibly. When he’s all the way in, he leans his head back, closes his eyes, and groans low, a deep vibration that travels through him and you, making you clench.

“Mierda,” he curses as his eyes open anew and his hands come to hold your hips. “You… damn. You feel so good. I’ve thought about this for so long, querida…”

“When we talked at work?” you murmur, dazed by the feeling of being filled up so completely, by his body, his hands, the heat he exudes. You raise one hand to the back of his neck and bring him to you for a kiss, losing your fingers to the softness of his thick curls.

“M-hmm…” Frankie moans into your mouth when you start to swirl your hips slowly. “Just like that…”

You wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, moving on his cock in search of the right spot to take you to heaven, as if heaven wasn’t already here, with every inch of Frankie inside of you, finally, his hands on you, his hot breath on your cheek when you trail your lips to his neck and leave your mark there, mine, he’s mine, I wanted him since I first saw him…

He’s vocal; constantly telling you how good you feel, how wet you are, what you do to him. Your ears are filled with his intoxicated words as you hit that right spot and start to work it, your tits bouncing when you start to chase your high to the rhythm of your combined pants. Frankie’s hands are everywhere, on hips and ass and tits and face and waist and he kisses you sloppily, hungrily, asking you in a strangled voice to ride him, ride it home, take what you need from him before he cums, he’s close, you’re close, your body is dripping with sweat as you ride his cock harder, faster, almost there, there, there, oh God, fuck, Frankie…!

He holds you against his chest as you come down and the wild thumping of his heart is thunderous, just like your own. When your breathing is back to normal and the sweat has dried, you start to shiver and your head starts to pound.

“Let’s go back inside,” Frankie tells you, reaching for your clothes. His cum runs down the inside of your thigh when you climb off him and you suddenly remember that it’s not the only semen that has stained your skin tonight.

You suddenly feel sick. What the hell are you doing? You scramble to open the car door and barely make it out before you throw up. The cold night air has you shaking harder than ever before in your life and you feel feverish. Is this what it’s like to die from all those diseases they had in the nineteenth century? Hot and cold and sick and shaking so bad every inch of you is vibrating?

“Fuck, are you okay?”

Frankie’s plaid lands on your shoulders and he’s bringing you against him, his strong arms wrapping around you for warmth. You try to speak but your teeth are chattering too hard, so he helps you with your clothes, even remembers your phone that you dropped on the ground, and takes you back into Santi’s apartment. You don’t ever want to see Santi again but neither you nor Frankie are in any condition to drive, and you owe both of them an apology, so you let Frankie tuck you in on the couch. He covers you with blankets and sits down next to you, his sleep deprived gaze still attentive as he looks you over.

“I’m sorry,” you finally manage to whisper. He caresses your cheek and smiles softly.

“Don’t be. It’s okay. We’ll talk in the morning, okay? You need sleep, we both do.”

“I’m not sure – “

“Not now, querida. It’s been a long night.”

Gratefully, you accept the extra time you get before you have to do anything unpleasant, and you let him kiss your forehead before settling next to you. Despite feeling wretched, you fall asleep within minutes.

You wake up with a double hangover: physical and emotional. Frankie is next to you on the couch, half sitting up, half lying down, head lolling to the side. It doesn’t look comfortable but nothing has been comfortable for the past twelve or so hours.

So stupid, so fucking stupid!

You just want to leave. It shouldn’t have happened, you shouldn’t have given in to those urges that wouldn’t lead to anywhere good. You had perfectly valid reasons for not getting involved with Frankie but you just couldn’t help yourself. The alcohol had part in it, of course, but you hadn’t been uninhibited. You could’ve stopped yourself, but you wanted him too much. You could’ve gone without knowing what it was like to be with Frankie but you fucked it up and now you’re hurting.

Heaven was Frankie inside of you: his cock, his hands, his voice in your ear telling her how good you felt and how much, how long he’s wanted you.

Once you can move without feeling dizzy, you get up and quietly look around for your purse. When you find it, you check to see that you have your phone, wallet, and keys. Your panties are missing but that doesn’t matter, and you have nothing else at Santi’s place. It’s time to sneak out, one final act of cowardice and immaturity. Least you could do is wait for Santi and Frankie to wake up, then have an honest conversation with them, face to face. But no, you can’t do that. Your head is swimming, your stomach is upside down, your pussy is still beating with the echo of Frankie’s cock, and you need to get away from here. You’re done with this, done with Santiago Garcia and Francisco Morales.

On the way out, you hear Frankie move on the couch. His voice, cracking with sleep, says your voice. At the same time, Santi’s bedroom door opens and he steps out, wearing only boxer shorts. With eyes narrow and sleepy, he looks at you, putting together the pieces of what he sees. Involuntarily, your gaze moves from him to Frankie on the couch, both of them rumpled from sleep and sex. Santi sees it, and you know that he immediately knows. Throat snared up and aching almost as much as your head, you open the front door and slink out, misery in your heart, shame suffocating your body.

Epilogue

Marcus is kind, just like Frankie, but seems to possess a greater sense of self-reflection. He tunes into your needs in a completely different way than Frankie: less “I want you” and more “I want you to feel good about yourself”.

You were in a bad shape when you met Marcus Pike. What happened that night with Frankie left you completely broken. The shame turned into self-loathing that swallowed you whole. You even had to take a week off work, but it didn’t do you any good: you sunk even deeper into despair. Your nights were sleepless and when you did sleep, you had wet, scary dreams where you were roughly fucked by Frankie and Santi at the same time. They filled up your holes, used you, and you exploded in one painful orgasm after the other, but whenever you looked at them, tried to kiss them, you discovered that their faces were empty, like those of mannequins. You woke up sweaty and horny but scared shitless. Were you going crazy?

Your shame did not diminish but you learned to live with it.

And then, one day, you ran into Marcus Pike, quite literally. It was a typical romcom meet-cute, the two of you crashing into each other in the door to a coffee shop. You spilled your drink all over his shirt. You were appalled, he was just smiling.

“I didn’t like this shirt anyway, I don’t know why I keep wearing it,” he told you with a smile so warm you had to smile back. You insisted on buying him not only a coffee but also a new shirt, and somehow, he managed to convince you that it was in fact he who should’ve watched out when coming into the coffee shop, so the drink was on him.

You exchanged numbers, one date became several, and you found yourself falling for him. You played it safe, though: you waited with sex, you didn’t touch a drop of alcohol when spending time with him, and as soon as you realized that you had feelings for him you decided to come clean about the Frankie/Santi mess. Marcus deserved to know this about you and after a homecooked dinner at his place, comfortably reclined in his couch corner, you told him.

Marcus was not put off by your past. Neither did he flinch when you told him about your aversion towards kids.

“I always figured I wanted kids,” he told you, “but happiness doesn’t have to include those.”

He waits patiently for you to be ready to have sex, seemingly happy with just cuddling in front of the TV. You appreciated his knowledge of old Hollywood movies and the way he talked about them without lecturing you. He just seemed really excited about finding someone to talk to about the things that interested him, but was equally focused on you when you talked about the books you had read.

When you finally felt ready to go to bed with him, he almost exhausted you with his constant questions. Where Santi would not speak, and Frankie would tell you how good you felt, Marcus was always checking in with you.

“I wouldn’t be moaning like this if I didn’t feel good,” you whimpered, and he scoffed out an embarrassed giggle.

“I’m sorry. I just want to be sure.”

“Don’t stop, you’re doing great.”

Marcus is kind. Marcus helps you heal, provides you with the light you need to find your way back to loving yourself.

Look, all I know is that you're the nicest thing I've ever seen

And I wish that we could see if we could be something

[notjustjavierpena]

🎵🎶

rules: spell your url with song titles and then tag as many people as there are letters

thanks for the tag @littlevenicebitch69 🥺 i love music!!!

n - nicest thing by kate nash

o - options by doja cat ft. jid

t - the grudge by olivia rodrigo

j - john hughes movie by maisie peters

u - under the influence by eminem, d12

s - sex by the 1975

t - touch tank by quinnie

j - just like heaven by the cure

a - angel of small death and codeine by hozier

v - vibes by tove lo, joe janiak

i - i could be your goddess by cashforgold

e - evangeline by stephen sanchez

r - react by switch disco, ella henderson and robert miles

p - poem with no rhyme by mads langer

e - exile by taylor swift ft. bon iver

n - never ending song by conan gray

a - after hours by the weeknd

tagging: anyone who wanna!

[treluna4]

Playlist Title: Doing the Best We Can

(Don't hate me!)

GIRL!!! YES!! This is my jam!! All aboard the pain train, y’all!!

Okay, here we go.

Single girls- Laura Janson

Waiting for my real life to begin- Colin Hay

Safer- First Date the Musical

You had time- Ani DiFranco

Have a little faith in me- John Hiatt

Control- Zoe Wees

Foundation- Kate nash

Nicest thing- Kate Nash (I couldn’t choose, okay?)

Fine again - seether

World spins madly on- the weepies

Never yours - Tracy Chapman

Free Fallin - John meyer (cover)

I strongly, strongly recommend all of these songs.

[thisdivorce]

thanks @whatthebodygraspsnot & @francesrose3 for the tag - i love discovering new music

Rules: say ten songs you like all by a different artist, then tag ten different people

Lazarus Online - Wolf Parade

Twisted - Johanna Warren

To My Younger Self - Britton

Heat Waves - Glass Animals

Nicest Thing - Kate Nash

No Reptiles - Everything Everything

Float - Call Me Karizma

Suspended in Gaffa - Kate Bush

Lost - Chri$tian Gate$

True Romance - Tove Lo

tagging @y0itsbri @grumpymickmilk @messedwithmandy @smokey-mickey @howlinchickhowl @metalheadmickey @lesbiangallagher @abundanceofnots @sleepyfacetoughguy @mmmichyyy

[studywgabi]

My Favorite Retro Hedgehog Girl Media

Friend to and influenced by the Teenage Girl in her Twenties, on-and-off dating The Burnt Out Gifted Kid, and younger sister to The Frazzled English Woman, The Retro Hedgehog Girl feels she's too soft to live in this world, and that too much has happened already and that it's too late now. She's just another lost, directionless, broke twentysomething with a million passions who couldn't imagine picking one thing to do every single day for the next 50 years. She doesn't know where all her time goes. She desperately wants to change, but doesn't know how.

She's the perfect example of the hedgehog's dilemma. She's well aware of her self-destructive tendencies, but feels can't find a way to move past them. She's lonely but pushes people away. She loves fiercely but doesn't know how to express it. She does her best to be honest but her words never come out like she meant them. She doesn't feel at home around anyone. She doesn't know what to say when people ask her questions about herself. She's self-centered and sees everything as a personal attack. Sometimes she picks fights with people she cares about, though she doesn't know why. She's prideful, irritable, and has a quick temper. She lashes out when she feels hurt or abandoned or insecure and immediately regrets it but doesn't know how to fix it.

During the week, she lives in secondhand loafers and wrap dresses, and, in the bitter winters, always wears the same worn but reliable, hand-me-down, old-fashioned coat inherited from an estranged relative. When she doesn't have work, she wears jeans, an oversize sweater and the converse she's had since high school. She sometimes romanticizes her life by poking fun at the way she always spends her dead-end, minimum wage job's paycheck on things she doesn't need, but she knows she has a real problem. She loves to shop so she has an excuse to leave her house and be around other people without it being too obvious.

She craves excitement and passion and experiences, she wants to go everywhere and do everything and be everyone. She dreads the though of living a quite life forever. She's terrified of spending the rest of her life feeling this way. She wants to be okay on her own, but thinks its impossible.

The movies and T.V. shows she watches over and over. She seeks out characters that she can relate to:

Girls

Search Party

Shrill

My Mad Fat Diary

Fleabag

I Am Not Okay With This and The End of the Fucking World

In My Skin

Extraordinary

Normal People

Pure

Emily the Criminal

Some Freaks

Winter's Bone

Lady Bird and Frances Ha

The Lure

Speak

Amelie

Jamie Marks is Dead

Pretty in Pink

Yes, God, Yes

On the Edge

True Things

Secretary

I'm Your Man

The books she's read a million times:

A Room with a View by E.M. Forster

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton

Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret and Forever by Judy Blume

The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson

Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami

The Serpent King by Jeff Zentner

A Long Way Down by Nick Hornby

Martita, te Recuerdo/Martita, I Remember You by Sandra Cisneros

Winter's Bone by Daniel Woodrell

Anxious People by Frederick Backman

The songs that used to make her dance like she was possessed or cry like she'd never stop but have lost their power through overuse. She wants to branch out more and find new music, but she just can't get really, really excited about anything like she used to anymore:

Flower and Canary by Liz Phair

Paper Bag and Love Ridden and Valentine by Fiona Apple

Liability by Lorde

Cool About It by Boy Genius

Love's Recovery by Indigo Girls

Tom's Diner by Suzanne Vega

Nicest Thing by Kate Nash

Winter and Crucify and Enjoy The Silence by Tori Amos

Working for the Knife and Crack Baby by Mitski

Half a Person and How Soon is Now? by The Smiths

Me and You Together Song by the 1975

Modern Love by David Bowie

Hey Jealousy and Day Job and by Gin Blossoms

This is Love by P.J. Harvey

Perfect Day by Lou Reed and Candy Says by Velvet Underground

The Whole of the Moon by The Waterboys

Hyperballad by Bjork

Not Allowed by T.V. Girl

All I Need by Radiohead

Perfect and King of Pain and Your House by Alanis Morrisette

Uberlin by R.E.M.

Mr. Jones and Anna Begins by Counting Crows

I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

Everlong by Foo Fighters

Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps by Cake

Park Life by Blur

All Apologies by Sinead O'Connor

As always, feel free to add your own.

[hairmetal666]

"10 songs u like, something you like about them, tag 10 ppl” and i was tagged by @rewritingicarus

All Too Well (10 Minute Version), etc, etc--Taylor Swift (If I liked Taylor Swift when this song originally came out, I would not have used it responsibly).

Nicest Thing--Kate Nash (Ben Wyatt pic: "It's about the yearning").

Exile Vilify--The National (They did this song for Portal 2, which is irrelevant, mostly, but a fun fact. Anyway, There's a line that goes "you're thinking too fast, you're like marbles on glass" which is really evocative of how I feel when I'm anxious).

Summer in the City--Regina Spektor (song starts with "summer in the city means cleavage, cleavage, cleavage," and I don't know what else you need to like a song. Also, despite the tits, it's super sad and wistful, about lost love and missed chances).

Fitzpleasure--alt-J (I used to work at Family Video (lol, lmao) and every day between 4pm-9pm we were required to play a dvd of trailers. This song is used in a trailer for the movie The Way, Way Back, so every day at my video store job in the bible belt southern midwest--where we were required to dress business casual and not allowed to sit down--we would listen to the line "in your snatch fitzpleasure, broom-shaped pleasure," 20 times a day. )

Moon Song--Phoebe Bridgers (I've said this on here before but this song is so Tis the Damn Season Eddie coded. Especially the lines "you couldn't have stuck your tongue down the throat of somebody who loved you more, so I will wait for the next time you want me, like a dog with a bird at your door")

A Song for Daisy--Hotel Mira (Their album Perfectionism came out right before the start of the pandemic and I listened to it when I would go running. Like, it's almost the only thing I listened to in 2020. Imo, everything about this song is perfect, but also I like when he says "baby Grinch").

After the Storm--Mumford and Sons (things are hard sometimes. It'll get better).

Hotel California--The Eagles (I didn't really care about this song, but last fall my mom and best friend spontaneously sang the bridge to each other in the middle of the night in a deserted McDonalds parking lot, like they vocalized the instrumentals and played air guitar, and now I have to listen to it whenever it comes on).

Letter to an Old Poet--boygenius (this song is super mean in a way that surprised me and I love it).

I feel exceptionally awkward about tagging people, but feel free to play along!!

[acacia-may]

What are your songs for Finral x Finesse (FinFin is their shipname, right)?

Hi anon! Thank you so much for this ask! I'm still getting to know all the ship names, but, yes, I think FinFin is the name for Finral x Finesse! I am so excited that you've asked me about them because their ship playlist is actually my favourite to listen to (linked here if you're interested. Though I will warn you it does contain some angsty songs and a few songs that are mainly (affectionate) jokes at Finral's expense).

My most listened to song on Spotify this year "Line Without a Hook" by Ricky Montgomery and mxmtoon is actually from my FinFin playlist, but since I already made a post about it and talked about two of my other favourite Finral x Finesse songs "Little Wanderer" by Death Cab for Cutie and "Candle on the Water" (one of my favourite Disney songs) in my post about them for the ship bingo game, I've decided to choose some other favourites for this ask!

"Oceans Between Us" by The Icarus Account

"Make You Mine" by PUBLIC

"Only Us" by Carrie Underwood and Dan + Shay (originally from the musical "Dear Evan Hansen" but I like this version a lot)

"I Wanna Make You Happy" by Victory

"The Long and Winding Road" by The Beatles

"It Only Takes A Moment" by Kate Baldwin and Gavin Creel (from the musical "Hello Dolly")

"Maybe Don't" by Maisie Peters and JP Saxe

Bonuses:

A Bit Angsty: "Nicest Thing" by Kate Nash

A Bit Cheeky: "Two Princes" by Spin Doctors, "You're the One" by the Vogues, and "Honey, I'm Good" by Andy Grammer

The song "Oceans Between Us" by The Icarus Account could have been written for this ship. The lovely, overarching theme of this song is just so fitting for Finral and Finesse. Though the singer is traveling far away (with "miles and miles that [he's] yet to go" he hasn't forgotten his beloved who is waiting for him to return ("But tell me you love me and tell me again/ You wait for forever, you wait till the end"). If that isn't enough, there are also lines like "You're the only reason I come home/ My love" and a whole section of "You're the only one"s. It's an incredibly sweet song (for an incredibly sweet ship), and I think it really suits them. The ending, "You're mine forever and I'm yours/ Yours till the end" always brings a smile to my face.

The Icarus Account - Oceans Between Us (official audio) - YouTube

"Make You Mine" by PUBLIC was my fifth most listened to song of 2021 (probably because it was on my Finral x Finesse playlist). Every time the line "put your hand in mine" comes up I always think of Finesse grabbing his hand when he's dropping the letter out of the spatial portal in Episode 154 (one of my all-time favourite Black Clover episodes). While I don't see them hurting each other all that much and there are a few bittersweet moments in this song, I mainly disregard those and focus on the bits I think are very fitting to this ship given that "You know that I want to be with you all the time/ You know that I won't stop until I make you mine" is a pretty good way to summarize all of Finral's newfound motivation to become a man worthy of Finesse's love.

PUBLIC - Make You Mine (Official Lyric Video) - YouTube

"Only Us" was originally from the musical "Dear Evan Hansen," but I've linked the version by Carrie Underwood and Dan + Shay. I'm not sure where to even begin with this one since I'd really like to just copy and paste all of the lyrics into this post. The opening of the song just screams Finesse to me. She recognizes that Finral is insecure, but she loves him anyway and encourages him that he doesn't have to convince her that he is enough for her (i.e. "I don't need you to sell me on reasons to want you/ I don't need you to search for the proof that I should/ You don't have to convince me/ You don't have to be scared you're not enough"). She knows that the past is painful, but she wants to move forward from that into something better, brighter, and happier together ("And what came before won't count anymore or matter").

Then the second verse just perfectly captures how I think Finral feels in this relationship. Finesse is his first love, but he never could have imagined that she would actually love him in return (i.e. "I never thought there'll be someone like you who would want me"). I think one of Finral's biggest motivations as a character is that he is starving for the unconditional love he didn't receive as a child, and when we meet him in the canon, we see that he is looking for it in all the wrong places (i.e. by practically throwing himself at every woman he sees). On a certain deep level, he really feels like he doesn't deserve to be loved, especially to be loved unconditionally, on the merits of just being Finral, but that doesn't stop him from wishing for it. I think the lines ""But if you really see me/ If you like me for me and nothing else/ Well, that's all that I've wanted for longer than you could possibly know" really speak to that.

What's so beautiful about Finral and Finesse as a ship is that she does see him for who he is and loves him for that, and I think that this song really captures that (especially the lines "You and me/ That's all that we needed to be/ And the rest of the world falls away"). That "'Til you're the only one, I still know how to see" line is just an added bonus.

Carrie Underwood & Dan +Shay - Only Us (Lyrics) - YouTube

"I Wanna Make You Happy" by Victory is a little on the nose given Finral's vow to "be the one to make Lady Finesse happy." However, it's a cute song full of warm and fuzzies for a cute ship full of warm and fuzzies.

Victory Boyd - I Wanna Make You Happy (Official Lyric Video) - YouTube

"The Long and Winding Road" is a Beatles classic, and one of my favourite songs of all time. I think it fits the context of this ship extremely well because even though Finral has left Finesse to find his own way in the world, he is coming to realise that "the long and winding road" of his life's journey will eventually lead back to her. It's almost as if his heart has been with her all along, he just didn't know it.

"The long and winding road/ That leads to your door/ Will never disappear/ I've seen that road before/ It always leads me here/ Lead me to you door"

The Long And Winding Road (Remastered 2009) - YouTube

I know "It Only Takes a Moment" is a showtune (from the musical "Hello Dolly") so it's a little out of the box, but it was just too perfect to pass up. I mean, if anyone is going to believe that "It only takes a moment/ To be loved a whole life long," it's Finral. This kind of hopeless romanticism just fits him so well, and I imagine that if he was to tell the story of how he fell in love with Finesse if would very much be a love at first sight kind of thing (on his side. I think it was a slow burn thing on her side). She was his first love, and, yes, I might be teasing him a bit with this song choice but it's pretty undeniable that he really was taken with her from the first time he saw her. When I listen to this song, I like to think of Finral explaining to his squad that he loves Finesse and has since the very beginning. These lines: "It only takes a moment/ For your eyes to meet and then/ Your heart knows in a moment/ You will never be alone again" especially just feel so much like him and his attitude towards his relationship.

Not to mention the fact that the line "I held her for an instant/But my arms felt sure and strong" always makes me think of this:

It Only Takes a Moment - YouTube

"Maybe Don't" by Maisie Peters and JP Saxe was a big inspiration for my Finral x Finesse story, "I'll Be Waiting," (especially the lines "We should never speak again/ Because I like you/ And lately it's been only getting worse/ So we should never speak again/ Because I want to/ I've run through every outcome and in every one I'm hurt.") I think this song as a whole really captures Finral's conflicted feelings in trying to reconcile the fact that he loves Finesse with the fact that she is probably going to marry his brother (which, I think, he knows will leave him heartbroken if he doesn't emotionally distance himself). Meanwhile, Finesse cares about him and is trying to gently suggest that maybe he doesn't have to do that. (The gentleness and almost shyness of that "maybe don't" sentiment feels a lot like her to me). I especially love the line: "I should always be alone/ You said maybe don't" and think the line "'Cause I run from the things that I want the most/ You said I get that's what you do but, maybe don't" is particularly fitting for these two.

Maisie Peters - Maybe Don't [feat. JP Saxe] [Lyric Video] - YouTube

Bonuses:

If you want something angsty, there's the song "Nicest Thing" by Kate Nash (YouTube Link Here). I like to imagine Finral as the singer and Finesse as the "you", and I especially like the line: "I wish you'd never forget/ The look on my face when we first met" since it always brings up a mental image of this:

He looks like he’s been whacked on the back of the head, bless his heart. 😂🥺💕 I really think the opening lines of this song sum up how he feels about her too (even if he knows (or thinks he knows) that it’s nothing more than a pipedream to imagine they’d end up together):

"All I know is that you're so nice/ You're the nicest thing I've seen/ I wish that we could give it a go/ See if we could be something."

If you're feeling a bit cheeky and want something that's more about poking fun at the situation there's always "Two Princes" by Spin Doctors (YouTube Link Here). No offense to Langris intended. The song is nice enough to admit that they're both "princes who adore [her]," after all.

"Marry him, or marry me/ I'm the one that loves you, baby, can't you see?/ I ain't got no future or family tree/ But I know what a prince and lover ought to be"

Or if you'd rather the song poke fun at Finral (in the most good-natured and affectionate way, of course), there's "You're The One" by the Vogues (YouTube Link Here; Spotify link here since Tumblr won't let me embed more than 10 songs). Don't get me wrong, I love Finral and am rooting for him and Finesse, but he can be a little too insistent with his "I want you only, you must believe me"s for my taste, so this song is poking fun at that a little.

"Honey I'm Good" by Andy Grammer (YouTube Link Here) is also good for poking fun at Finral for the same reason. Plus, it has this great (and very catchy) refrain:

"So nah, nah, honey, I'm good/ I could have another, but I probably should not/ I've got somebody at home, and if I stay I might not leave alone/ No, honey, I'm good, I could have another, but I probably should not/ I've gotta bid you adieu, to another I will stay true"

(Warning: there's one bad word in this song)

Thank you so much again for the ask and for indulging me (and bearing with me to the end of what turned into a very long post)! Cheers!!

[scroundel]

The beautiful @maxxiefactor tagged me 🥰

PICK A SONG FOR EACH LETTER OF YOUR URL:

Y- You Wouldn't Like Me, Tegan and Sara

O- Organ Donor, Jeremy Messersmith

U- Underneath the Tree, Kelly Clarkson

D- Don't Let Me Down, Joy Crookes

A- After Laughter Comes Tears, Wendy Rene

M- My Own Person, Ezra Williams

N-Nobody Speak, DJ Shadow (Run the Jewels)

G- Grow As We Go, Ben Platt

O- Ode To My Family, The Cranberries

O- One in a Million, Bosson

N-Nicest Thing, Kate Nash

I just went with the first song that popped in my head, they're a bit mish-mash, but that's what made it fun!

I tag @kindofanorphan and @judgejudyofficial and @cirdan220

Or literally anyone who wants to join in.