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cr0ftisprocrastinating · 11 months

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Hello, me again being just perfectly normal as per usual.

I just finished listening to your INCREDIBLE playlist for HDG, and it's... did I already say incredible? It is very incredible. Wildly eclectic in all the best possible ways. I was SO PLEASED to see Babylon Zoo and Kula Shaker in particular! (no Tattva though?? how dare you it was the first guitar solo I ever learned) Anyway it brought back many many memories, so please find them all enclosed lol

I'm on holiday and have LOTS of time to kill, so I have constructed a sectioned, annotated list ❤️

The Best Song

Reef - Place your hands

I think this might be the best song ever made in the 90s? It's lived in my head forever. APPARENTLY the lyrics are "place your hands on my hope" but I have been singing "on my hole" for so fucking long and I will not change now. Those are the real lyrics as far as I’m concerned. Anyway it’s so joyful!

Songs that people don't remember until they hear them

Suede - Beautiful Ones - The chorus definitely rings through Hermione’s head whenever a Slytherin walks into the room lmao

Supergrass - Alright - I feel like I heard this song every single day for a decade

Stone Roses - She Bangs the Drums - Their most pop song and holy shit its good

Ocean Colour Scene - Riverboat song - Not only amazing, but also the intro riff was the soundtrack to TFI Friday with that bastard Chris Evans (the other one)

Corner Shop - Brimful of Asha - Oh god this song hahah. Another one that was played so much it just became the general background noise of life

The Seahorses - Love is the law - I dunno if anyone even remembers John Squire had another band after the Stone Roses, but he did and this track was the only song of theirs I ever heard but it was enough that I remember them

Catatonia - Mulder and Scully - Is there anything more 90s than the X-Files?

The Divine Comedy - Something For the Weekend - Inextricably linked with the above in my head for reasons I can't remember. Maybe just because they're both spooky??

The Mavericks - Dance the Night Away - The happiest break up song ever made?

Juggernauts of the era

I mean these need no explanation so I mostly haven't bothered, but Bittersweet Symphony was literally the sound of an entire generation (and the music video? Just walking down a shitty street, disconnected from everyone around him, singing about hopelessness while dressed all in black, barging uncaringly past people??? IT MEEEE lol). Also a reminder that Things Can Only Get Better was the Labour Party song when everyone thought Tony Blair would save us from the conservatives 🙄

Verve - Bittersweet Symphony

Oasis - Cigarettes & Alcohol

Blur - Girls and Boys

Pulp - Common People - 🎵 Rent a flat above a shop, cut your hair and get a job 🎵

Prince - 1999

DReam - Things Can Only Get Better

Songs I don't think necessarily fit your playlist vibe but I remember fondly anyway

Radiohead - Fake Plastic Trees - One of my faves, it’s so fucking depressing lol. “She lives with a broken man, a cracked polystyrene man” 🥹

Ace of Base - All That She Wants - My dad loved Ace of Base for some reason? Which was weird because he mostly just listened to Pavarotti

4 Non Blondes - What's up - Still find myself regularly singing Heeeeeeeeayyy yeaaaah yeaaah yeahhh constantly

The Shamen - Ebeneezer Goode - E’s are good, gettit??? It’s such a blatant, smirking middle-finger to The Establishment that you’ve got to kinda love it, even if it’s fucking irritating to actually listen to hahah

Shaggy - Oh Carolina

Wet Wet Wet - Goodnight Girl - I did NOT listen to Wet Wet Wet. But my mum did, and this song was in heavy rotation, so I still know all the lyrics

And as this is an ask, I've prepared an actual question! Do you listen to music while you're writing? I can't, I get too distracted by the lyrics and I lose the ability to write words!

OK that's it I'm done have fun! <3 xx

Stars…your name is fitting because you are what?? HEAVENLY.

I will be adding all of these to the playlist tomorrow. Even if they don’t ‘fit the vibe’. The vibe of the playlist is - there is no vibe! It’s like what if Hermione and Theo bought every single weird mashup CD to occupy them in their little copy room, and therefore ANY and ALL bangers are welcomed hehe.

Re: writing to music - it depends on my mood! When I am struggling to get words down I definitely think it helps to focus me in the right ‘tone’. For NETG I used that miserable playlist a LOT lmao. Sometimes I get overexcited though and have to ‘dance around my room’ - a thing I have done my entire life and is not dancing at all, rather me hurtling from one end of my room to another, grinning madly as the made up people in my head do things I want them to.

I always try and convince myself I can listen to music while I study. This is always a lie. One day I’ll grow out of it, but not today

#Croft answers #Hermione grangers diary #asks

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must-be-brooklyn · 5 years

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Can you write javid about 6:41 of Jeremy Jordan singing it’s all coming back to me

So, this literally took me forever and a half to write - but I love JJ’s version of this so much and I hope I at least did it justice lmao

If you haven’t already seen his cover of it, do yourself a favour and check it out here, or if you’re interested, jump to 6:41 here

Ship: Javid

Words: 1.3k

Era: Modern au

Warnings: Some implied sex

Jack is a performer at heart. It makes up the half of his lifeforce that is not consumed by art and David. Kath is intimately familiar with this fact; she’s had to listen to far too many of his rants on these topics for it to have bypassed her.

And, perhaps, it was knowing that this performance was so important to him that made her agree to singing backing vocals. The event was nothing big-a supply your own musicians and backing vocals and we’ll let you use the stage for a song kind of thing.

Jack had been so eager to do it, though, that Kath had not been able to turn him down. Nor, apparently, had Smalls, Mush or David, who had been stuck on back up vocals. Not even Race, who had been given the piano sheet music, a smile and a friendly reminder of a long-owed favour, had gotten away.

And, here they were, six minutes into the song, and Kath was half-way on her way to regretting it. The pub was crowded, and she could see the video cameras flashing in their direction. Honestly, she could have done without knowing that this might end up somewhere on the internet.

They had already gone through the theatrics: caressing the mic stand, closing his eyes, turning his head and biting his lip. It made Kath give an exasperated smile as she did her best to keep on top of the music. She could hold a tune without a problem, but she had stopped formal music in senior year and was no musician like half of her friends were. Still, her eyes scanned through the crowd before glancing to her left and right.

To no surprise of hers, David had a mushy expression on his face as he gazed at Jack with longing eyes. If she would not have lost her place, Kath would have sighed. She loved Jack and David with all her heart, and despite them generally refraining from physical PDA, the amount of eye-fucking was very concerning.

David was an idiot in love. To be fair, that assessment might have been a little harsh because most people were, and David less of an idiot than Jack was. But, she had spent far too long listening to Jack ranting at her about David’s little nuances and hearing Sarah recount similar stories about David’s evening rhetoric to not roll her eyes whenever she saw them looking at each other after four years of dating the same way they did when they were still pining.

And, then, Jack turned in their direction in a short instrumental.

Kath raised an eyebrow at him but barely suppressed a grin. He extended an arm towards her and brushed her upper arm as he began singing again.

If you forgive me all this If I forgive you all that We forgive and forget and it’s all coming back to me

She tried not to laugh. For all the dramatics, he had an amazing voice, and Kath could not help but be carried away in it. In the brief month they had dated, (a musical romance, literally; they had been young high schoolers playing a couple in the junior production) listening to Jack’s singing had been one of her favourite ways to spend time together.

It still was, if she was honest. Only, now, she was able to admit that they were a million times better as friends and there had never been a chance for a romantic relationship between them.

Jack’s eyes darkened as he looked past her, directly to David. His hand reached for the back of David’s neck as David determinedly looked in the opposite direction.

Face widening into a grin, Jack grabbed David’s chin and forced their eyes to meet.

Kath felt her stomach drop as she watched them. God, could they be any less subtle? This was definitely going to turn up somewhere on youtube or facebook the next morning, probably with shakey, drunken filming and inebriated laughter in the background.

When you see me like this And when I see you like that

Kath watched them, unable to draw her eyes away, and had no doubt that the rest of the audience was in the same situation. The expression on Jack’s face was practically predatory, as though he was ready to pull David into a bedroom and lock the door behind them. Knowing Jack, Kath would not have put it past him.

She tried to push that thought out of her head, though, as she turned back to the audience for a second. Catching Sarah’s eye, she could see an expression of something like amused horror. Kath grinned and held back a giggle.

We see just what we want to see all coming back to me

Jack pushed David’s chin away, turning towards Mush and Smalls and wow-. That was going to be interesting. Kath could see a grin on David’s face, though, and laughed along with the others in the audience. David’s face was flaming red and his glasses steamed up as he smiled and played along.

David had never been as much for theatrics as Jack had; he was happier in the orchestra pit on reed I, or hiding behind stage, so Kath was impressed with him being up here in the first place, let alone playing along with Jack’s improve. (Even if, Kath imagined, it probably came pretty naturally to them.)

The rest of the performance passed in a blur, and by the time the song finished nearly eight minutes after beginning, she had given up on holding back a beam as she finished her last harmonies.

Jack moved easily on stage, as though it was a second home to him, so his melodramatics with the last few lyrics could not be called surprising. They could be called interesting, though, as she heard David inhale sharply and let out a small, choking noise when Jack stepped over the mic stand.

Kath glanced at David and concealed a shout of laughter. His face, if possible, was even more heated than it had been before, and his glasses were completely misted. In the back of her mind, Kath wondered if he could even see through them.

Jack turned back to them and smirked.

“Hey, babe, what if we?” The smirk dropped from his face to be replaced with a genuine, loving grin as he raised his arms in a victorious cheer.

David’s expression softened and with the song done, he wiped his glasses clear on the bottom of his shirt with shaking hands.

They stumbled off stage. Kath felt almost dizzy from the stage lights as she wobbled down the steps with clumsy feet. Sarah greeted her with a hug and a peck on the cheek, while Romeo immediately thrust a wobbly recording on his phone into her face.

Smalls, Mush and Race crowded in next to her and Kath looked over her shoulder, searching for Jack and David. She found them barely five seconds later in a dark corner just off side of the music pit.

Jack had Davey pressed against the wall of the bar and was snogging him hard. Kath looked away quickly; she really did not need to see what they got up to next.

“Oh, my God,” Sarah moaned, as she caught up with where Kath was looking, “I never needed to see that.”

Kath laughed. “At least they’re not actually fucking,” she croaked. Her throat felt parched. As if on cue, Specs appeared from nowhere and offered her a tall glass filled with water.

“Well done,” he said mildly, as he joined the growing crowd of people watching Jack and David. “They look like they’re having fun.”

Crutchie’s face morphed into a malicious grin. “Yeah, let’s leave them to it. David’s already got the car keys.”

Kath threw a look at him. “Remind me never to accept a lift from either of them again, then.”

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carmenlire · 6 years

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LISTEN, someone who hasn't seen Magnus in decades spotting him in a club, it looks like a shadowhunter is following him when he's leaving the club and when the person decides to go after them both, they think the shadowhunter is attacking Magnus but really Alec is just pushing his husband to a wall to make out with him😂😂 I know this is very specific but wbk I'm weird

Julia, darling, do you know how hard it was to synthesize this prompt on ao3? skjfghsdg thank you for sending me this— it is definitely right up my alley lmao

read on ao3

Never let it be said that Magnus Bane’s standards weren’t up to snuff.

Bartholomew St. Vincent, the High Warlock of Manchester, takes a long look around Pandemonium. It’s been ages since he last set foot in the downworlder club– not since its opening night in fact, over twenty years ago.

Ah, how time slips away when one’s immortal.

While Manchester wasn’t the hive of activity that London or New York was known to be, he still kept himself busy. The quiet afforded him time to attend to his plants and write his memoirs– a task that he’s been working on for the past thirty six years, off and on.

But, alas, Magnus had wanted to meet with him– something about making sure his beloved petunias didn’t strangle him in his sleep– so, here he was, across the pond for the week while Magnus caught him up on all the gossip that he’s missed since he last left his city.

He’d just portaled over a few hours ago, directly into his suite at the Ritz-Carlton. He’d enjoyed a leisurely dinner at one of his favorite French bistros before deciding to stop by Pandemonium on his way back to his hotel.

While clubbing wasn’t really his scene, he couldn’t deny that Bane was an excellent businessman. While there was an extended dancefloor and lovely ebony granite bar, Magnus had planned for patrons whose grand idea of a fun night wasn’t gyrating against strangers.

There was a cigar room in the back that mostly catered to fellow immortals, Magnus offering dozens of different types of tobacco with the complementary liquor.

St. Vincent spends a pleasant hour or two unwinding in the room, enjoying a few glasses of port and tipping the cigar girl lavishly.

Eventually, though, he stands up, making his way to the door. The room attendant jumps in to smoothly open the door for him and he’s immediately assaulted with a wall of bass-thumping dance music.

He grimaces in distaste– what ever happened to the swing era?– and carefully makes his way to the cloakroom, trying to touch as few people as possible.

As he reaches it, he turns and just takes in the scene for a minute. There’s a line of people waiting to get in and people are packed in like sardines. There’s a crowd at the bar, four deep and the bartenders are working their asses off.

Magnus is in the middle of it all, dancing to something god-awful, everyone trying to get near him– he’s the life of the party even when he’s not trying. A talent, that.

He’s in something revealing, his shirt completely unbuttoned but tucked into skin tight leather trousers. His makeup is as dramatic as his moods and he’s grinning, feral and satisfied.

He looks like a king amidst his people.

St. Vincent’s attention catches on the one spot of stillness in Pandemonium– there’s a man, no a shadowhunter, staring at Magnus with single-minded focus. He’s leaning against the bar, untouched drink in hand, and it looks like he doesn’t even register anything going on around him.

He only has eyes for Bane.

St. Vincent watches as the shadowhunter gives Bane a slow onceover, pausing at the necklaces catching the light on his chest.

He raises a brow, chuckling a little. So it’s like that then, is it, he thinks. He didn’t know the blessed nephilim were allowed to swing that way.

Deciding the shadowhunter isn’t a threat– though not to say that he isn’t wasting his time, as if Bane would ever deign to sleep with one of those sanctimonious, rigid creatures– St. Vincent lets his gaze keep moving.

Magnus has quite the little enterprise here, boasting style and elegance with the touch of debauchery he’s so notorious for, and St. Vincent is proud of him. They only had a passing acquaintance through Ragnor but trust Magnus to keep in touch– to keep him from becoming too much of a recluse.

As he shrugs into his coat and puts his hat on, he sees Magnus leaving through the front doors, the bouncer holding the rope open so he can pass.

St. Vincent’s gaze sharpens, though, as he sees the shadowhunter follow close behind.

Good grief.

Shadowhunters just don’t know when to stop, when to admit defeat.

Grumbling, he starts moving, walking at a brisk pace towards the front of the club. Lilith knew that Magnus always protected his people– it was only fair that St. Vincent be there in his hour of need.

He exits the club and immediately takes a deep breath of the fresh, cool air. Up the block he sees Magnus walking, the shadowhunter– good God, how tall was the man?– silently following.

St. Vincent has a moment to think how peculiar it is that Magnus hasn’t caught on– he was one of the most powerful warlocks the world over and his sixth sense should definitely be tingling right now– but he pushes that to the back of his mind to discuss with him later.

The shadowhunter is a few paces behind, a looming shadow on a deserted block. He looks lethal, capable of their kind’s usual violence, and Bartholomew is set to call out a warning when the shadowhunter makes his move.

He must have one of his runes activated because he’s a blur of movement as he closes the distance to Magnus.

Bartholomew starts jogging to the two men but he stops in his tracks as he hears… laughter?

The shadowhunter’s wrapped an arm around Bane’s waist, spinning him, pushing him back until he collides with the brick wall.

Bane, for his part, doesn’t look alarmed. Instead of seeing crushing waves of crimson, St. Vincent watches, stunned, as he winds his arms around the shadowhunter’s neck, relaxing against the wall, pulling the other man closer.

Magnus laughs, a little breathless, as Alec settles against him. “Someone can’t wait until we get home?”

The man hums as he starts mouthing at Magnus’s neck, sucking a bruise over his pulse point. Magnus’s hips buck, heading falling back, granting easier access.

St. Vincent is speechless at the intimate display. Magnus Bane, renowned for his reluctant tolerance of shadowhunters, voluntarily letting one so close?

It’s absurd.

The shadowhunter pulls back and St. Vincent barely catches the words that leave him in a hoarse baritone.

“Well, husband, what do you expect me to do when you were dancing like that?”

“Like what, Alexander,” Magnus demands, playfully outraged.

“Like you knew I was watching,” is his growled reply and St. Vincent is taken aback as they both dive into each other, kissing with a fervor infinitelymore suited to a bedroom than directly under a streetlight.

Magnus sweeps his hands from the shadowhunter’s shoulders down to his ass, copping a feel with one as the other slides into his jeans. Magnus then proceeds to hitch a thigh over his lover’s hip and they start grinding in earnest.

For pity’s sake, it’s distasteful. Magnus is letting out these little whimpers and the two of them are putting on quite the display.

Wait. What in blazes?

Husband?

In his shock, he must make a noise because the two break apart, Alexander going for his pocket and Magnus’s eyes gleaming gold in the darkness.

The next second, he lays a hand on the shadowhunter’s chest as he takes in the onlooker.

“Bartholomew?”

St. Vincent sighs and takes a few steps closer.

“It is I,” he agrees.

Magnus looks confused and so does Alexander, staring between the two high warlocks in surprise.

“You know each other,” he asks warily.

Magnus nods before he gets a chance to.

“We’re old pals, darling. St. Vincent is actually in town for the week to catch up.”

The shadowhunter relaxes as he hears the name.

He steps back from Magnus and clears his throat, sticking out a hand.

“Good to meet you, St. Vincent. I’m Alec Lightwood.”

St. Vincent throws a startled glance at Magnus before slowly returning the handshake.

“Lightwood? Of the Lightwoods?”

Alec nods even as he looks rueful. “Yeah, but try not to hold it against me.”

Magnus takes a step closer to him, wrapping an arm around his back. “Alexander, here, is the Head of the New York Institute.” He winks at St. Vincent. “He’s also my husband.”

He knows his mouth is opening and closing like a fish, but he can’t help being so gauche.

“Husband?”

Magnus just arches a brow, blasé. “Husband. We’ve been married for seven years.”

“To a shadowhunter?”

Magnus laughs, nodding even as he winces. “I know, St. Vincent. If you’d asked me the last time we’d seen each other if I thought I’d ever get married, let alone to a shadowhunter, I would have laughed in your face. But, here I am.” He looks up at Alec, wonder in his gaze as he continues. “I definitely never saw this one coming my way.”

He tilts his head a little, switching to give St. Vincent a considering look. “You spend too much time at your estate, dear. I can’t believe you haven’t heard a single word about me and Alexander. We’re a constant source of gossip among the downworld.”

Alec chuckles. “And it’s definitely not limited to New York.”

Magnus turns to look up at him and St. Vincent can’t help but notice the look that passes between them, full of warmth and humor, obvious even to a stranger.

“How right you are, darling. Remember when that pair of wolves watched us the entire evening in that tapas in Madrid? You’re really too captivating, Alexander.”

Alexander scoffs. “Me? No one would give me a second look if it weren’t for you, babe. You command attention wherever you go, especially when you dress to impress.” Alec’s gaze dips down lecherously and Magnus chuckles, patting his chest.

He looks at Bartholomew, winking. “I think someone’s had a little too much to drink tonight.”

Magnus nods at him, tilting his head in Alexander’s direction. “We’d best head home now, but I look forward to lunch tomorrow. I assume you’re staying at the Ritz?”

St. Vincent nods, watches as Bane’s husband leans down and starts nosing along his hairline. “Of course, Bane, there’s not another acceptable hotel in the whole damned city. I’ll meet you at the restaurant tomorrow.”

Magnus nods distractedly as he reaches up and runs a hand through the shadowhunter’s hair.

“Have a safe walk back to the hotel, Bartholomew.”

He nods as Magnus turns Alec and they start walking back down the block. The two are in step, Alexander’s arm across Bane’s shoulder, hips touching.

They look like a team, in sync.

He hears their voices, growing quiet in the distance, and shakes his head, rueful.

Trust Bane to defy everyone’s expectations.

He can’t wait to catch up on what he’s missed tomorrow.

#exposing my kinks for fuck's sake kdfjgsdfg #i hope you like this!!!!!!#it was fun to write and definitely made time go by at work this evening!!#julia tag #asked #answered #my writing #against the wall #malec fic #malec fic rec #malec prompts

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