#alien stage x 14 days with you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

byunbaekby · 4 years ago

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title — the things i know pairing — soccerplayer!jisung x female reader genres — angst, fluff, high school au, strangers to lovers au, first love au, long distance relationship, hurt and comfort, coming of age overall warnings — underage drinking, cancer, character death, language, mentions of hickeys, fainting, mentions and descriptions of hospitals, soccer inaccuracies, lots of angst (you’ve been warned!) word count — 14.8k summary — jisung has never been keen on growing up, or even understanding what adulting means. at seventeen, all he knows is: he loves soccer (and he’s damn gifted at it), and girls are very pretty but also plenty scary. then he met you, his first love who turned his life upside down and made his stomach roll like the soccer balls he loved to kick around the field. but when your cancer comes back after years in remission, jisung thinks, he doesn’t really want to grow up anymore. playlist — falling, harry styles ; your guardian angel, red jumpsuit apparatus ; my first and last, nct dream ; bye my first, nct dream ; orchid, jeremy zucker

additional — for the heartbreak hotel collab hosted by @nct-writers. my concept in the five stages of grief was “acceptance and hope.” thank you to my babes @suh-insane and @astroboy-lele for proof-reading!

The thing about knowledge is that you never know when or what you’re going to learn. There’s no way for you to predict what will be of your mind when you fall into bed that night, surrendering to the moon. In the morning, there’s no telling what knowledge your brain will choose to store away for remembrance over the course of the night, and what your brain will decide is unnecessary. What you decide not to remember is a memory you can’t even miss.

When you wake up every morning, you don’t know if you’ll go to bed having met someone who will change your life forever.

At seventeen, there are two things that Park Jisung knows. One, he loves playing soccer (and he’s damn good at it, the way his long legs carry him across the field in what seems to onlookers like seconds). Two, girls are very pretty but plenty scary as well.

The day starts out normally, like any other away game that the team plays.

He wakes up at six o’clock on the dot, and eats a large breakfast to hold him over for the game, then packs a few granola bars into his soccer bag and lets his sister know he’s leaving before he jogs the way to the park where the bus is waiting for his team. The ride is normally an hour long, so he either tucks his earbuds into his ears and tries to get in a short nap or he converses with his teammates.

Today though, the bus ride is three hours long. Crossing his hoodie-clad arms across his chest to act against the cold air of the bus, he focuses his gaze outside and watches as the town goes by.

“Yo, Jisung, check this out!”

At the sound of his name he turns his head, blinking when he sees a number of his teammates in the surrounding area nudging him closer. A few of them are leaning in towards a particular teammate, who displays a proud expression. “What’s up,” asks Jisung as he too leans forward toward his team member, curiosity slightly piqued.

Jaemin, the teammate in question, tugs the collar of his jersey down to reveal his skin. On the milky white curve of Jaemin’s collarbone, he sports a dark purple bruise, surrounded by a perimeter of yellow where the skin seems to be healing. There’s no question as to where that mark came from, and it definitely wasn’t from soccer.

“Ew, man, that looks sick!” comes from Donghyuck, along with a few comments from others, either approving or disturbed.

“Where’d that come from?”

Renjun slaps Mark on the chest, eyebrows furrowed at him. “Obviously, it was from Anne! Didn’t you see the way they were all over each other at last week’s game?” Jaemin grins, eyes going lovesick at the thought of his girlfriend.

Jisung’s expression contorts into one of disgust. “That’s disgusting, man,” he comments, nose still scrunched in distaste as he leans back into his original spot on the bus seat. Another thing he’ll never understand is why people are so desperate to grow up, as if giving hickeys and sneaking vodka into their Hydro flasks makes them somehow more adult.

He slips his earbuds into his ears, playing some light muzak to lull him to sleep with his head leaned rather uncomfortably against the cold window.

Jisung doesn’t think that he’s exceptionally smart; he’s gotten passing to above average grades his entire life. He’s not musically talented, nor is he particularly a smooth talker.

But hearing people call him gifted is a feeling he relishes every time.

With his long legs and strangely large and spacious lungs, soccer called the boy’s name from the time he could run. He dominated the peewee league, then the club teams until this point, at the ripe age of seventeen waiting to be scouted for college teams.

He wasn’t usually one to brag but today, he had shot the winning goal.

Everyone has their thing, the one thing that they excel at. For Picasso it was painting, for Yiruma it was piano, for Renjun it’s spending four hours every night researching alien conspiracy theories. For Jisung, it’s soccer. But he’s never been exceptionally good at speaking to people.

“What’s your name?” He hears a voice, cheery and upbeat, behind him as he’s grabbing his bag on the side of the field. The game is over, and the crowd begins to dissipate while the team members are gathering their things to return to the bus. Turning over his shoulder he sees you, wearing a bright smile. Cautiously he responds, “Jisung Park.”

“Oh, so you’re Korean then. I’m gonna write that down, okay? How long have you been playing soccer?” You ask next, and now Jisung’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Write what down?” He asks, trying to keep his tone as polite as possible. Even so, how is he supposed to react to a random person at a game suddenly appearing to ask him questions? As he wipes his forehead with his towel he adds, “Who even are you?”

Quickly you say, “I write in the high school newspaper, and wanted to get a close-up of today’s star.” It’s then that Jisung realizes the camera slung around your neck and the notepad in your hands.

“Why are you writing about me? I don’t even go here.”

“Because,” you say, a slight sigh creeping into your voice now. “Our team sucked today. You straight up stole the show, and no one wants to read about a team that lost. I’d rather give them a peek at the star.”

“14!” His coach yells his number once, causing Jisung to look over his shoulder to the source of the voice, where his teammates are already beginning to pile onto the bus. The boy in question slings his bag over his shoulder and tucks his soccer ball under his right arm before finally getting a good look at you. “Shouldn’t you be writing something to raise your team’s spirit or something? Giving them support, maybe?”

You shrug. “I don’t like underdogs. Don’t like writing about them. I’d rather read about the heroes. So how long have you been playing soccer again?”

“Jisung!” Now it’s Chenle calling after him, and he really needs to go. Eyes flickering to the street where his teammates are gesturing for him to hurry, he looks back to you. Your eyebrow is raised expectantly, right hip popped out as you wait. Before he starts to run off, he manages a small, “I’ve been playing eleven years. Um… bye.”

Then he turns away and his long legs carry him to the bus a few meters away. Even so, behind him he can hear your loud, proud voice yelling after him with the name of your high school: “Check the online newspaper! You’ll see my article!”

What a weirdo, he can’t help but think as the team cheers for their star player getting on the bus back home.

A week later, it’s another Saturday night following a victorious win against another team in the local area when Jisung gets a call from Chenle. “What’s up,” he asks immediately, leaning back in his desk chair to throw his soccer ball up in the air and catch it with one hand.

“Wanna party tonight? Celebrate our win a bit?”

“Where?” asks Jisung. He’d never been big on parties. For one, his long legs that were great for running weren’t exactly skilled in dancing or anything of the like. Secondly, he’d definitely be expected to talk to girls and he’s not really in the mood to make a fool of himself.

“Taeyong’s house. Me, Mark, Hyuck, and Jaemin are going. Renjun’s busy, and Jeno wants to spend time with his cat. What do you say? Wanna join?”

Jisung sighs. He was honestly just exhausted. “Think I’ll pass. My sister’s been getting on me about my bio grade.”

Chenle groans on the other line. “Lame.”

“Next time, promise,” says Jisung.

“Fine. Have fun studying, looooser!” This is the last thing Chenle says before hanging up, leaving his best friend alone to shake his head with a small laugh. Then he remembers something, some words that a stranger had yelled out to him a week before.

Sitting up at his desk, Jisung opens his laptop and types in the name of your high school, along with your town. A few clicks around the website finds him at the online news section, plus a scroll or two past some questionable articles, there it is: a picture of him mid-kick, the winning one if he remembers well enough. His nose is scrunched in concentration and strands of dark hair cling to his forehead.

Soccer Superstar from the opposing team steals the show and the win!

A small scoff leaves Jisung’s lips, trying to humble himself as he reads over the first few paragraphs.

Our school’s boys soccer team faced a devastating loss on Saturday in the face of the opposing team’s ace player (pictured above). The game ended promptly when the superstar player confidently kicked in the final shot, though the result had been clear from the first half of the game.

A short interview with the hotshot player revealed that he has been playing soccer for eleven years! A senior from Neo Culture Prep, it is clear as day that the school is very lucky to have such a prodigy on the team.

Who is this superstar player, you ask?

His name is Jisung Park.

Geez, Jisung thinks. He knew he was good but not that good. The article did a good job of spicing him up, making him look like he was a lot better than he really was. There’s too much fluff; sure, he’s skilled and he knows it, but—he touches his cheeks. They’re warm—the article makes him sound like a soccer god, and it’s beyond embarrassing. Who even are you?

A scroll to the bottom of the page tells him all he needs to know.

Article written by: (Name) (Last Name).

He doesn’t return to your town for almost two months. There’s a tournament today, the hours lurching between games giving him more than enough time to psych himself out about how he’ll play.

It’s noon, the sun shining overhead causing a sheet of sweat to amass on Jisung’s forehead. His team has just won their second match of the day, and in waiting for their next game, his eyes are scanning the bleachers set up for observers on the side of the field. It’s not hard to find you, same camera hanging around your neck.

With his long legs, he jogs over to you towel in hand. You’re not at all focused on him, eyes pressed into the camera’s viewfinder as you attempt to capture a good shot of the current game.

“I don’t like the stuff you said about me in your article.”

His deep voice suddenly intrudes your thoughts, and you jump in your place. As you turn to him and drop your camera from your face, he catches sight of the way your eyes widen at his appearance. A flood of recognition replaces the shock before you tilt your head. “Why? It was all good stuff.”

Patting at his forehead with his towel, Jisung responds, “Yeah, exactly. I’m not that good. I could’ve played better that day.” This brings a small snort from you. “Really! They were narrowing the angle on me, I should have flanked or lofted.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“It’s—”

You cut him off before he can explain. “You’re good. Why are you so shy to accept that?”

“Why do you keep trying to paint me as the main character of the team? Everyone works hard together.” He questions, eyebrows furrowed.

“Because you are,” you respond matter-of-factly, focused enough to press your eye into the viewfinder again. A few seconds pass, and Jisung recognizes the click of the camera as you capture something on the field. “You’re clearly the best player on the team by a long shot. You’re the main character, the hero.”

At your response, Jisung shakes his head in disbelief and scrunches his nose. There’s really no getting through to you. “I’m more than the hero you think I am.”

You turn to him, facial features contorted into a mischievous expression. “I’m sure you are.” Jisung realizes then that you’re holding something out to him. Taking it, he observes it. A… business card? With your name and number on it. “(Name). Aspiring journalist.”

“You have a business card? Aren’t you like, seventeen?”

You shrug, smile tugging on your lips. “Never hurts to be prepared. Call me.” It’s the last thing you say before you flitter away on quick feet, leaving to interview the team which has just won their match. He watches you leave, wondering if you know what kind of effect you have on people.

“I don’t know, man. She seems kinda crazy,” says Hyuck from the seat next to him, leaning his head back. However, a sudden bump in the road causes the bus to jump, startling the boy a bit. Jisung had just shared his thoughts about asking you out with his friend, who immediately made a face and shook his head.

“Crazy?” Sure, you’re a bit forward and maybe slightly reckless, but he doesn’t think you’re… crazy. It’s been a few weeks since he last saw you and from the conversations you’ve shared over text and phone… he thinks he likes you. Like, really likes you. It’s goddamn terrifying.

“Yeah, we all saw her article,” Chenle speaks up from the seat behind him. “She’s obsessed with you.”

Jisung rolls her eyes. “It was one article. That doesn’t mean she’s obsessed.”

“I think you should do it. It’d be funny to get on camera in case you fail,” snorts Renjun.

Jaemin pipes in from in front of them. “But if you do ask her out, she lives three hours away. That’s a lot of distance.” He’s the only one in a relationship, so maybe he has the only opinion that Jisung trusts.

“Other people have done more distance.”

Now, it’s Jeno’s turn to pipe in. “But you’re not other people, you’re Jisung Park. You’ve never had a girlfriend.” Should he feel insulted? Chenle also adds, “Jeno’s right. You’re a senior! It’s your year, and you wanna spend it tied down to some girl who lives three hours away?”

But you’re not just some girl. Mark’s the only one who hasn’t spoken, and most of the time, he’s the most level headed. Jisung turns to him with a sincere expression and asks, “What do you think?”

Though he had been trying to stay quiet throughout the conversation, he stretches a bit in his seat before finally saying, “I think you should go for it.”

“I think you should too!” Jaemin says. “But I think you should be prepared for what it means.”

“Whatever you decide to do, we’ll hype you up.”

“I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?” Jisung asks. “If she rejects me, at least she’s three hours away, right?” There’s murmurs of agreement around the seven of them. He tries to sound relaxed, but the thought of asking a girl out for the first time causes his heart to thump loudly in his chest. Oh god… should he do it?

“So?” asks Hyuck after a few seconds of silence, and it’s then that Jisung realizes everyone’s looking at him. “Are you gonna do it?”

He gulps. “... No idea.”

A collective groan emerges from the group of boys. Hyuck, ever the genius, straightens his back with a glint in his eye. “How about this? If we win, you ask her out. You’ll be riding on a winning spree and it’ll give you confidence. If we lose then… there’s more girls back home.”

That… doesn’t sound like a bad idea. But oh god, he doesn’t know which option he wants.

For the first time, Jisung feels like his legs are knotting into each other, tumbling over his feet.

Soccer had always come easily to him, like breathing. But for some unknown reason, he’s totally off his game today. He knows the play, his strengths, and even the weaknesses of his opponents, but he trips over his feet.

No, that’s a lie. He definitely does know the source of his nervousness, and it lives in the form of a girl with a camera and a notepad sitting in the bottom corner bleacher. His breath is frantic as he zips back and forth across the field. The sounds of the game are ringing loud in his ear, and he can hardly even focus on the black and white ball being kicked around, let alone what the coach is screaming at them. They’re so close, one more goal should do it.

He knows what’s going to happen. Jisung Park had always been known for his ending kicks.

But what if he messes it up? What if he fumbles the kick or whiffs it?

Then again, does he even want to win? That’s a dumb quesiton—of course he does—but the question is: is he ready for what comes with the win? He really shouldn’t look, shouldn’t peek for just one look at you, but he does. You’re scribbling in your notepad, and he swears in that millisecond that you look so pretty.

Yeah, he wants it. He really wants it.

He’s ready, and—oh god, Sungchan is passing the ball to him. Suddenly Jisung is on high alert, winding up toward the goal. He captures Sungchan’s ball with ease, no longer tripping over himself as he makes his way to the end goal.

One kick, just nail this one kick.

He winds up, turning his body to the correct angle; he kicks it and…

Please go in, please go in, he’s begging.

The ball flies in straight past the goalkeeper, who jumps toward it but there’s no use. It all happens so quickly, and suddenly his team erupts into celebration when the referee blows his whistle. Still standing there, Jisung catches his breath and stares into the goal.

He won.

That means… He glances at you. You’re wearing a huge smile on your face, and without noticing it himself, Jisung has his own proud smile on his. His momentary peace is interrupted by his friends running toward him, nearly knocking him over in their celebration.

“Yeeahhh, Jisung Park, you’re the man!”

A few minutes later, Jisung tries to calm his nerves after thanking the opposing team for a good game. When he returns to the sidelines where his stuff is, he can barely get some water down his throat before Chenle is pushing a soccer ball into his hand. “Good luck, dude,” he says, and Jisung can feel the others’ eyes on him. Oh no, it’s time.

He steals a glance at you, and—Oh. You’re looking at him too. A bashful smile spreads over your lips and you turn away, focusing back to your conversation with your friend. His heart is beating so loud, but Jisung doesn’t think it’s because of the soccer game. Turning back to his friends, he groans, “I need a pep talk.”

“Okay, uh,” Mark attempts. “You got this, you know you’re the man. Um… if she rejects you, then it’s okay, there’s other fish in the sea!” A groan erupts through the group. “That’s not a pep talk, Mark!”

“Listen,” says Chenle suddenly, grabbing Jisung’s shoulders to stare at him. “She’s not gonna reject you. You’re Jisung freaking Park! The star of the team and my best friend! Go get ‘em, and don’t take no for an answer!” With this, he gives Jisung a small push in the girl’s direction.

“Actually, uh—I think no means no,” pipes in Jisung but everyone cuts him off with a collective, “JUST GO!”

Pink spreads across his cheeks as he slowly walks in your direction. At a good distance away, he places the coveted soccer ball down on the ground and winds himself up for a kick. Okay, he just shot the winning goal of the game. If he can do that, he can do this. Running forward the slightest, Jisung gives himself a silent pep talk as his foot taps the ball. It goes moving from its spot, flying through the air… and that’s when Jisung realizes his mistake. Instead of gently tapping against your ankle like he had planned, the ball flies straight in the air, knocking the side of your head rather harshly.

“Not that hard, genius!” Chenle chastises from behind him, and Jisung has to hold back the desire to actually groan in that moment. He immediately runs toward you, hands out in surprise. “Oh my god, oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he repeats, reaching out for you. You’re rubbing the spot on the side of your head where the ball had hit, and he wants to disappear right there.

He never should have done this.

Why was he born again?

“I’m so sorry,” he says again for the nth time, feeling shame and humiliation speed up his spine at the way you wince when you touch the side of your head. “Oh my god, go get me an ice pack,” he demands over his shoulder at his friends.

“No, no I’m okay,” you reassure everyone. Now all the eyes are on the two of you.

A few moments of silence pass as you eye the soccer ball which has rolled some distance away, crouching down to pick it up. Ball in hand, you scan the outside of it… and destroying all of Jisung’s hopes and expectations, you burst into laughter.

You laugh so hard, the boisterous sounds leaving your lips so vehemently that you have to cover your mouth with your hand. Jisung furrows his eyebrows. “I just kicked you in the head and you’re laughing?” Oh god, he must have done more damage than he thought. You don’t answer, the only sounds leaving you are giggles and guffaws. It’s only making him feel worse; geez, he wishes he wasn’t so tall so he could positively disappear right now.

You finally look up at him and meet his gaze, your own eyes crinkled in delight. Flipping the ball over in your hands, you present to him the ball. Written on one of the large white spots reads a firm, “Go out with me?” in black marker.

“This is why you kicked me in the head?” You ask, still chuckling the slightest. Bashfully, Jisung nods. You laugh again. Every time you do that, he feels like getting smaller and smaller. “Of course I’ll go out with you.”

Wait, really?

He says these words aloud, eyes wide at your ease. He hadn’t expected you to actually say yes! “Sure,” you respond with a smile. “Though I could’ve gone without the head injury.”

This brings a laugh from the both of you. He really had been worrying so much about nothing. His frame instantly relaxes, taking the ball back from you. “You sure you don’t need the ice pack?”

“No, I could definitely use an ice pack.”

The first date happens two weeks after that game, and it’s his first real date so he has no idea how to act. Everything goes fine—he takes you to the local arcade in your town, and though he’d deny it to the ends of the earth, you beat him in foosball.

“Ha!” You had screamed. “Superstar soccer player Jisung Park, and you can’t beat me in table soccer?” His cheeks had burned pink at the sound of your voice reverberating around the public arcade, but honestly the mirth in your eyes was worth it.

His cheeks are red but the air is cold on the walk home to your house. He had promised to have you home by nine, and it’s—he checks the time on his phone—8:45.

A look at you, holding the giant stuffed teddy bear that you had won (he hadn’t won it for you, because lord knows he’s horrible at skee-ball), and Jisung can see the air leaving your lips. “Hey, you cold?”

“Nah,” you shake your head, though you scoot closer to him on the sidewalk. His tongue laves over his bottom lip quickly, and he almost wants to hold your hand. But that wouldn’t do much to keep you warm.

He purses his lips, then immediately his hands are working at taking off his hoodie. That’s a cute thing, isn’t it? Boyfriends giving hoodies to their girlfriends? “Here, take this.”

When you take one look at the hoodie in his hands and roll your eyes, Jisung knows he’s in for it. “Seriously? You can’t fool me with some cheesy rom-com moves,” you laugh.

Ouch.

That hurt his pride. He was just trying to be nice, maybe a tad bit romantic, but you clearly weren’t having it. He should have known you would be so tsundere, and maybe he does.

He knows you act strong, like there is no way on the face of the earth that you would ever swoon for his lame attempts at flirting. But when you reach upward on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before you step into your house, he knows you like it just as much as he does.

For the longest time, it’s been just him and his sister Naeun.

His parents passed away shortly after his birth, so they stayed under the custody of their aunt. When his sister became an adult, she became his legal guardian. Since then, it’s been the two of them against the world.

Though kids had sometimes made fun of him for not having a mom or a dad, Jisung never paid those kids much attention. Sure, he didn’t have a dad to teach him how to drive or a mom to attend his parent-teacher conferences, but he had his sister and she was all he’d never need. Naeun gave up everything for him: she didn’t go to college, she traded nights out with her friends to help him with her math homework, she worked two jobs so he could play soccer. She had worked so hard, perhaps sheltered Jisung so much that he had always lived a comfortable life.

It never occurs to him just how much she had struggled until the morning she asks him to get a job.

She sits across the dining table at breakfast, and over his cereal, Jisung notes how shaken and guilty she looks. There must be something on her mind, but that’s how his sister’s always been; she doesn’t like to worry him, and speaks up when she’s ready. When she finally tells him, he blinks, confused.

“I can’t pay the bills alone. Not with soccer getting more expensive, and the landlord raising the rent—that bastard,” she mumbles under her breath, surprising Jisung. She hardly cursed. “It’s… It’ll just be for a short time. I promise.” She has tears in her eyes. Jisung furrows his eyebrows; she must feel guiltier about this than he thought. Immediately he nods in understanding. “It’s fine, Noona. Don’t worry about it. I’ll, uh, go out looking this weekend.”

He takes another spoonful of cereal into his mouth, thinking that the conversation will end there. But it doesn’t, his sister’s quiet voice reaching his ears. “Promise me you’ll go to college, Sung. Promise me you’ll make it. Make it all worth it.”

And it’s in that moment, in the way that his sister’s voice is on the edge of breaking, that it occurs to him just how much his sister has sacrificed for him. How quickly she had to grow up, having become his parent at eighteen, just a few months away from how old he was now. And he was nowhere near as responsible as her.

He swears in that moment that he’ll uphold his promise. He’ll get a scholarship, he’ll help his sister out. He’ll pay back everything she’s given up for him.

Finally, today you’re in town.

It’s the first time you’ve come to visit him in his town, and he’s so excited to show you everything: his school, his favorite ice cream place on the corner of the street from his apartment building, and even the park he grew up kicking soccer balls at. Even after all these years, him and his friends still came here to practice their soccer technique.

Today, the two of you are sitting underneath a tree at said park, his head in your lap. You’re running your hands through his dark hair, and wow, he’d never admit that it feels so good.

There’s a small laugh heard from you as you comb through his locks. “You should dye your hair.”

“Suddenly?” He asks. “I don’t even know what color I’d dye it.”

“You should do like, a blue or something. Oh, purple! Purple would be nice!” Your excitement causes him to roll his eyes promptly, sitting up. “I’ll dye my hair purple if you dye your hair purple,” he retorts to you.

“Maybe I will,” you say, standing onto your feet now that he’s gotten off of you. Wiping the grass from your legs briefly, you nod toward his soccer ball a few feet away. “C’mon, let’s play.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You wanna play soccer.”

“Yeah, is that so surprising?”

“Um, yeah, a little bit considering the fact that you said it’s boring and that you complain having to get up to go to the fridge at two in the morning,” quips Jisung with a laugh. You only roll your eyes in response. “I never said soccer was boring, I just said it’s only interesting when you play. And you’re gonna teach me right now, so stand up,” you say, extending a hand to him.

He takes your hand, rising to his feet before picking up the ball. “Fine,” he relents, a smirk making its way onto his face. “Try to keep up.”

For fifteen minutes, the two of you race up and down the park’s open grass field, chasing the ball in every direction. He evades you, long legs carrying him and the ball while you chase after him.

“Wait,” you say mid-sprint, slowing to a stop. Your chest is heaving, and slowly Jisung stops his running also. “You good?” He asks from a few feet away.

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, reaching a hand up to wipe at your forehead. “Just… gimme a sec.” A minute passes of you catching your breath, but Jisung doesn’t pay it much attention—a person who didn’t play soccer and have trained lungs like him would struggle.

“Okay, okay,” you finally say, shaking your head a bit. “Let’s go again.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, worry seeping into his tone.

“Yeah, yes! Just—just go.”

So he does, beginning to kick the ball down field as he chases after it, stopping past center field to pass the ball to you. You’re racing after him, and though the ball is coming your way, you trip over it, falling straight onto the floor.

Your head hangs low, and he immediately rushes over to you.

“Hey, hey! You okay?” He asks, kneeling down but your eyes are closed. He swipes a hand over your forehead, and it’s that moment when he realizes your eyes are closed. Did you pass out? Had he pushed you too far? “(Name)?”

No response. Oh god, what is he supposed to do?

Is he supposed to check if you’re breathing? Where can he check for a pulse again? In his moment of inadequacy, he pulls out his phone and calls his sister.

She’ll know what to do, but it pains him that he doesn’t.

His sister arrives quickly, and immediately takes you to the hospital. According to her, you do have a pulse and you probably just had heat exhaustion. He sure hopes so…

For a few hours he sits in the waiting room as he awaits the arrival of your parents. They rushed over from your town, four hours away, and this definitely was not the impression he wanted to have on them. Head in his hands, he can’t help but worry about you.

You do wake up, eventually but he can’t see you until your parents arrive.

They take you back home. You’re walking and talking again, but as you shoot him a weak smile from over your shoulder, walking down the hall and out of the hospital, Jisung can’t help but feel that something has gone terribly wrong.

He swears he’s never been so tired.

Working at McDonald’s isn’t horrible, per se, it’s just different. But it definitely takes more out of him than soccer ever did. The second he walks into his room Jisung drops his backpack on the bean bag next to the door and almost collapses on his bed. Throwing his work cap on the floor, he runs a hand through his hair and pulls out his phone.

The best thing about coming home from work, is coming home to you.

He immediately fishes for his phone from his pocket and opens it to speed dial. Pressing on your contact, Jisung presses the phone to his ear and waits for his girlfriend’s voice on the other end. The line picks up.

“Hey,” he says, a smile spreading over his lips without him even knowing.

“Hi…”

Something’s wrong. Your voice is missing its signature excitement, the snarkiness he had grown accustomed to. He sits up in bed, eyebrows furrowed. “Is everything okay?”

Yes, you’re supposed to say. Everything’s fine. Everything’s just peachy.

But you don’t. “I got a call from the hospital.”

After you had fainted the other day playing soccer with him, the hospital had run a few tests to make sure you were okay. He knew this, you both did. They were supposed to say that you had been dehydrated, that you hadn’t eaten in a few hours. “I haven’t been completely honest with you, Jisung…”

“What, what is it?”

There’s a momentary silence on the other side, then a shaky breath. “When I was ten… I got really sick. I was always having nosebleeds, always tired—some days I didn’t even want to get out of bed. They took me to the doctor and they told me that… I had leukemia.”

Jisung releases a heavy breath, staring into his sheets. No… don’t say it.

“I fought it for two years, and I beat it. God, it was… it was really hard, and I got through it. It’s been five years now but—but the hospital called and…” Please, no. “My cancer came back.”

Jisung’s never felt this way before; like all the air in his lungs have been pulled from his chest, lost to the universe. Not even when he sprinted across the soccer field, not even when he had gotten punched in the chest. All those times, his chest burned with fire, be it anger or passion. But now… his chest feels empty and hollow and numb. He manages to spit out a few words.

It’s not supposed to be like this. You’re supposed to be okay, you’re supposed to go to prom together. Graduate. He’s supposed to get a soccer scholarship, you’re supposed to study journalism at the same school, and the long distance would cease to exist. You were supposed to be happy. “But it’s gonna be okay, right? You’ve fought it before, you can do it again.” Perhaps it was a bit selfish of him to ask for consolation when you were the one with the illness. But you were a journalist, never a liar. Your voice is weak, like you’ve already given up.

“I don’t know.”

“What’s up with you?” Chenle’s voice is almost worried, but Jisung wouldn’t be able to tell because his eyes are focused on the ground. He’s been kicking a soccer ball around with Chenle and Mark for a while now, but there’s clearly something very off about the teenager today.

“Yeah, is something wrong?” Mark asks.

Jisung blows some air into his cheeks. Should he tell them? It’s your private information but technically, you’re his girlfriend right? The news has been troubling him for a few days now, and he’s had no one to talk to. Surely, he can’t talk to his sister about it.

He should just spit it out. “(Name) has cancer.”

It’s like the world stops, his friends taking in his words. “W-What? What did you just say?” Chenle speaks first, then Mark quickly follows. “Did you say (Name) has cancer?”

Keeping his gaze on the ground, Jisung nods and gives the ball a small kick in Mark’s direction. “Yeah. She had leukemia when she was younger, and… the other day she went to the hospital and they said that it came back. Her cancer came back.” When he looks up, both his friends are looking at him with genuine concern etched across their faces.

“Seriously? Cancer? And you’re still dating her?” Mark asks, causing Jisung to raise an eyebrow in confusion. Did he just insinuate what he thinks he did?

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Chenle speaks up next, trying to defuse the sudden tension. “Jisung, you guys have only been dating like, a couple months. It was just like yesterday that you kicked her in the head asking her out!”

“And?” Jisung asks pointedly. Suddenly he’s in front of Chenle, and though he technically towers over the latter in height, Chenle’s chest is straight as he makes his point.

“Is it really worth it to stay on a sinking ship?”

Jisung’s voice reaches a new level of low, erupting from a place deep inside of him that he’s hidden away. It’s a place of rage, of anger sizzling and bubbling in his stomach. Suddenly they’re both chest to chest, unwilling to back down. “Now, I know you’re not talking about my girlfriend.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Mark interrupts, hands coming between them to tear the two boys apart. “Calm down. Both of you.”

“He started it,” accuses Jisung quickly, dark eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “My girlfriend is not a sinking ship. Neither is my relationship, and I don’t need you to comment on it.” He looks to Mark for guidance. Mark had always been the most logical one, the one he would look to for help, and though he thinks that Mark will agree with him, he almost looks guilty.

“But it’s true, Jisung. We’re worried about you. She’s just a girl. Is she really worth hurting yourself over?” He had trusted Mark to be on his side, but now Jisung just releases a scoff. He had been hoping for his friends’ support, but it seems like he’ll be going through this alone, then.

You’ve been avoiding him.

Of course, there’s not much that can be done to avoid him when you live hours away from each other. But you haven’t been responding to his texts, and when you do, they’re mostly short and taut. You’ve been cutting your phone calls short, often saying that you’re tired. Maybe you really are, but it hurts hearing the line cut off, not knowing how you’re really feeling.

Jisung can’t help but feel like he’s failing. He should be doing better.

It’s like your relationship is an hourglass, running out of time with every day that he spends going to school, work, or soccer practice. Like you’re getting further and further away with each short text message.

His entire life has been spent running. Speeding forward center field like a lightning bolt, long legs carrying him far ahead everyone else. But for the first time, Jisung feels like he’s falling behind.

It only takes a three hour bus ride (four, with the added stops) but in Jisung’s mind, it’s all worth it. It won’t be the first time he’s gone over to your house, but it is indeed the first he’s ever showed up unannounced, which is a strange appearance given that he lives three hours away. But with everything happening, he’s willing to give up the day and six hours worth of travel for you.

Sitting on the bus, he pulls out his phone. It’s early, like nine in the morning, but he knows you have a doctor’s appointment in a few hours so you’re definitely awake. He presses the facetime button, but you quickly reject his call. His eyebrows furrow, but lighten with an incoming text from you.

[ message from : (Name) ♡ ] : jisung, i’m using the bathroom rn. call you back in a bit.

He nearly rolls his eyes, but it’s a sweet one. You’re always so candid.

[ message to : (Name) ♡ ] : you act like you’ve never facetimed me on the toilet before.

[ message from : (Name) ♡ ] : wow, call me out more why don’t you

[ message to : (Name) ♡ ] : pick up my call, brat ♡

[ message from : (Name) ♡ ] : no, You pick up My call :p

Seconds later, his phone is lit up with an incoming facetime screen. A laugh almost leaves him at your tenacity before accepting the call.

The call opens up to the visual of his girlfriend, you in your PJs fixing the phone up against the mirror in the bathroom. He sees himself reflected in the mini screen, hoodie on and earbuds in wearing a boyish grin. “Hey pretty girl. Make sure you wash your hands.”

You roll your eyes at his remarks. “Hey ugly boy. I’m already doing that. What are you doing?”

“Just making sure, because I don’t think you brushed your teeth after you fell asleep on call the other night,” he teases, clicking his tongue as you’re the only person he can tease so easily. “I’m on the bus to practice.” A lie, but a white one at that. “What are you up to?”

You wack your still dry toothbrush in front of the camera, nose scrunching up in the slightest. It’s a habit of his that you’ve picked up. “I’m also doing that right now.” You wet the brush, putting some toothpaste on it. “I thought you didn’t have practice this Friday? Or was that next Friday?”

Your actions bring a low laugh to his lips, and his eyes momentarily focus on the passing landscape outside the bus window as he’s now three hours out of his normal perimeter. “Uh, Coach wanted to add in a practice today. Don’t you have a doctor’s appointment today?”

You nod at his answer, toothbrush in mouth. “I do, I think it’s like, in a hour or something.”

“Oh, okay,” he replies simply as the bus comes to a stop, your house only a short walk away. He stands, gathering his bag. “Gotta go, but I’ll talk to you in a bit, pumpkin honeysuckle,” he snorts, making his way to the front of the bus.

Your brows furrow as you give him a disapproving look through the screen, shaking your head slightly before moving to rinse your mouth. “Talk to you soon, don’t get hurt at practice or I’ll fight you.”

He scoffs as he steps out of the bus, into your neighborhood. “Like you could take me. Later.” You probably could, given your determination, but he gives you a nose scrunch before ending the call. He’s only taken a few steps when his phone rings with a text message.

[ message from : (Name) ♡ ] : you and i both know i could take you :)

A snort leaves him. Classic (Name).

When he arrives a few minutes later, he hesitates at the door, only praying that the person who opens up is you, not your parents or god forbid, your brother. It only takes a few hard knocks before he hears your voice on the other side, determined to see just who the hell had the nerve to interrupt your laziness this early in the morning. “Who the fu—”

He tsk’s in distaste. He shouldn’t have been surprised that the first words to leave his girlfriend’s mouth are cuss words. “You potty mouth. I thought you’d be happy to see me,” he says, opening his arms.

Jisung’s not quite sure what he expected. For you to jump in his arms? What a delusional boy. You blink for a few seconds, then suddenly you’re throwing yourself at him, fist first to land a deserved punch to his arm. “I thought you had practice? What are you doing here and why do you look so much cuter than when I last saw you?”

“Well, I lied,” he snickers, patting your head. “I’m here to annoy you, obviously. But you look too. For a—” A person dying of cancer, but he can’t say it. He won’t. “—person who barely got up twenty minutes ago.”

Your hand immediately begins rubbing the spot that your fist landed, worried that it might actually bruise in a bit. Jisung asks, “So are you gonna invite me in, or?”

“What are you, a vampire or something? I’m pretty sure you weren’t given permission when you entered my heart so just come in and cuddle me before my appointment.”

Your response catches him off guard so he blinks before entering in silently, sticking his hands back into the loose fitting pocket of his hoodie. Even after six months, he’s still not used to you saying those kinds of things. Hell, he still gets sweaty holding your hand.

“Hey Mom! Dad!” You’re grabbing onto his arm, tugging him into the kitchen. “Jisung’s here!”

After a small breakfast and conversation with your parents, he’s given the permission to go with you to your doctor’s appointment. The two of you take the bus, hands interlaced as you sit, and Jisung smiles awkwardly when an elderly woman compliments the two of you, calling you a cute couple.

He’s never really been in a hospital before.

For an arduous soccer player, he’s lucky enough to never have suffered a pain great enough to warrant a visit to the hospital, nor had he ever been sickly enough to send him there. It’s for that reason that he feels slightly out of place, tucked in his hoodie whilst trying his best not to gaze at the others in the waiting room. Instead, he tries to keep his gaze focused upon his girlfriend as you remain bright despite their surroundings. Your hands intertwined, he feels a comfortable warmth seeping into his veins, gold in color and feeling. Gold like the ring on your finger, and like your heart.

He’s so lucky to have you.

“I don’t really have anything planned,” he says softly, giving your hand a slight squeeze. It’s true that your itinerary is next to nonexistent for this impromptu date, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. If anything, a hospital is a strange starting destination for a date but your relationship is a bit strange. Quietly, he says to you, voice low in the hopes that no one overhears, “Don’t hospitals scare you?”

He knows that you spent a good portion of your time here; surely you must have grown accustomed to it, but Jisung was not. Hospitals were cold… white and bleak and much too quiet.

“Nah, not really,” you answer with a shake of your head. “Except for all the souls wandering around.”

Jisung blinks. “Souls?” He gulps.

“Yup. The souls of the passing.” You click your tongue, along with a wink in his direction now that you’ve successfully managed to creep him out. Do you ever stop making jokes?

The door to the waiting room opens and a medical assistant calls your name. “Hey, I’ll be right back,” you tell him, standing and releasing his arm. He gives a hesitant nod, watching as you leave through the door and disappear down the hall.

When you emerge, some forty-five minutes later, the mirth is gone from your eyes.

He knows right away: you didn’t get good news. His heart is pumping in his chest, like he’s waiting for you to collapse right there. Years could pass, and Jisung swears he’d never be able to erase that memory of you. “Are you—” Okay, he wants to ask. But you just give him a small smile and shake your head. It’s not the time. He cuts himself short, reaching a hand out to you with a small, albeit forced, smile. “Let’s go on our date.”

It’s a long afternoon, spent in the arcade where you had had your first date—this time, for memory’s sake, he gets another ring from the claw machine—then McDonald’s and ice cream. He treats you to lunch, courtesy of his employee discount, and the entire day is filled with laughter and mutual teasing. Everything feels like it’s okay again.

Jisung enjoys these moments the most.

The moments where he doesn’t feel like he has to be anybody: not the star soccer player, not the kind understanding younger brother, or a kid trying to look grown up at an adult party. With him he’s just you, awkwardness and quirks altogether. You’ve never hid yourself from him, and now he doesn’t have to hide himself either.

Now that the day is touching evening, the two of you sit at a park, relaxing mindlessly on the swings next to each other. Now that the romantic buzz is gone, the two of you have fallen into a comfortable silence.

“Thanks for coming this far, Ji. This was… nice.”

A small smile spreads over his lips. “It was nothing. I wanted to do it for a long time.”

“No, really,” you say, turning to him with a thankful smile. Your eyes are serious now, and Jisung feels the sunlight seep into his skin. “I really missed you.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. This moment feels heavy, like he’ll remember it for years to come. “... I missed you too. A lot.” You both turn back to face the sunset, watching the sun fade behind a hill. It’s setting, streaks of gentle reds and soft-spoken oranges staining the empyrean firmament. It’s then that Jisung feels his heart begin to sink, like the sun, into the pit of his stomach.

“Are you scared?”

A moment passes without you saying anything, then you speak up beside him. “Not really. I mean, it’s just the hospital. The only thing that’ll suck is not being able to leave. I never thought I’d say it but, I’m really gonna miss going to school.”

Did you think you were never going to return? “Are your chances good?”

The implications from earlier at the hospital return. What are the chances that things aren’t looking up? “They say so,” you breath out.

That’s not good enough. Anything could happen. Jisung needs clarification, confirmation. He doesn’t want to lose you. “What if you—”

“I might.”

A beat of silence.

Jisung feels like crying. It gathers in the back of his throat. “What would I do without you?”

There it is: the implication that you’ll be gone. That one day, Jisung will have to wake up and face a world without you in it, a world with less happiness and less passion. A world where there isn’t someone who will call him ugly when really they think he’s the cutest to walk to the earth, or where there isn’t someone to make fun of him the way you do. A world with less love.

Your voice is dry as you speak.

“You’d move on.”

“I don’t know if I’d ever love anyone like you,” he finds himself saying.

“L-Love?” You suddenly say, voice the smallest he’s ever heard. You’ve always had the loudest voice, most prominent in his brain, but his words seem to have caught you off guard. “Do you? Love me?”

He doesn’t know what love feels like. He’s just a teenager, what is he supposed to know about love? About loss? Is it all-consuming, like in the movies? Is it meant to hurt? “... I think I do. I think I love you.”

There’s a sniffle next to him, and he turns immediately, alarmed that he may have made you cry. There are tears in your eyes, but they don’t fall. Being a writer, you talk too much. Your words are eloquent and true, though sometimes Jisung has a hard time getting you to stop talking. But this time, you choose to abandon words altogether, instead leaving your swing to stand in front of him. Compelled by nature, he stands too. Instead of speaking, you reach upward on your tiptoes once more. Except this time, you kiss him.

Your lips meet, and everything is golden.

And against the backdrop of the setting sun, it feels like the closing scene of Jisung’s very own romance movie. But this isn’t the end, he knows.

When he walks you home, he offers his sweater again.

This time not out of obligation or the desire to appear more romantic than he is, but because you’re cold. Really cold. You’re shivering, arms wrapped around yourself not giving enough warmth.

“Here,” Jisung says, already beginning to take off his hoodie, but you stop him with a hand and a pointed look, though your chattering teeth cause you to stutter. “S-Still trying to woo me with cheap rom-com tricks?”

You’re stubborn. You’re so stubborn and he hates it.

“Just take it,” he says, pushing it into your arms.

“No,” you argue. “You have a three hour ride home, it’s late and you’ll be cold.”

It’s obvious your illness has made you even more sensitive to the cold, and for that reason, Jisung’s fine facing the biting cold as long as you’re okay. “You’re freezing, please just take it.”

“Jisung, I said no.” Your voice is stern now, and he gets the feeling that he’s upset you. He gives up, gnawing on his bottom lip in deep thought. He just wants to make you feel better, doing what he thinks will help but with you, it never does. You’re so independent, too much so and much too stubborn to admit you need his help… “Fine,” he says before putting his hoodie back on. If you won’t take his warmth, then he’ll give it to you.

He lifts his arm, placing it fully around your shoulders and pulling you to him so your bodies meet. “At least let me hold you,” he mumbles. Your frame freezes in his for a moment, until you wrap your arms around the circumference of his chest.

Burying your face into his side, you relent into him. “Okay, fine.”

And later, he finds that you’re right. When he sits alone on the dimly lit train, he realizes that the warmth he had been feeling earlier, bathing in the sun’s rays with your lips, is long gone. All he feels now, is cold.

“You skipped practice the other day.” Jisung looks up from where he had been sitting on the bleachers, tying his shoes after practice. It had been a tough practice; he had missed quite a few passes and whiffed more than just a couple shots. He can only blame himself. He’s been distracted; alongside his worries about you, he also has a job to attend to and even more, the results for his dream school’s soccer scholarship is supposed to come out soon. His gaze falls on all six of his closest friends, looking down at him.

“Yeah, something came up,” he says easily.

“More like, someone,” retorts Donghyuck easily. “We know you ditched to go see your girlfriend.”

“And what about it?”

“I don’t know what’s happened to you, man. You never want to play ball with us anymore, you don’t want to hang out with us. Whenever you invite you to a party, you raincheck. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore,” Chenle spits out, arms crossed over his chest.

“Chenle,” says Renjun carefully.

“No,” interrupts the boy in question. Chenle looks straight at Jisung, who stands now to meet the others’ heights. “He needs to hear this. Ever since that girl came around, it’s like you’ve lost your way. You used to be all about soccer and friendship. Now you always have her on your mind, and—did you see the way you played earlier?—she’s messing you up. Your head’s not on straight.”

“Chenle, stop.” Donghyuck speaks up now, voice low as he tries to stop the younger from going off. “You’re not the same Jisung I met in peewee camp, and I don’t know if I like who I’m seeing,” Chenle finishes.

That’s enough for him. His voice comes out before he can stop it.

“You know why I never party with you anymore?” Jisung suddenly says, voice booming and clearly at his limit. “Because I’ve always hated partying. Because I have a job now, and because I don’t want my sister to stay up worrying about me while I’m getting piss drunk. I hate drinking, I hate trying to look cool while actually looking fucking stupid, because I don’t know how I can even think about partying when my girlfriend is fucking dying.”

A hearty scoff leaves his lips, as though he can’t even fathom the words he’s faced today. “You don’t even know me anymore? That’s where you’re wrong, because you never knew me. Not all of me. You only see me as the star player who’s gonna get you your win. She knows me, she knows all of me, and she doesn’t try to change me. Well, sorry that I’m not the same kid you met years ago who let everyone walk all over him. I thought you guys were my friends, but clearly you only want me around for as long as I can play.”

Those are the last fiery words to leave Jisung’s mouth before he turns on his heels, storming off the field and away from everyone else. He just needs to get out of here, away from everything before he ruins it. Mark and Hyuck follow after him, while Jeno and the rest hold Chenle back.

“Don’t listen to him,” Mark says, ever level headed. “We know what you’re going through.”

Though he appreciates their concern, Jisung spits, “No, you don’t.”

Both of them stop walking, no longer chasing after him as Jisung pulls out his phone.

A new email.

He immediately opens it, eyes glazing over the text.

Dear Jisung Park,

Thank you for applying to our university’s soccer scholarship. We reviewed every application with our utmost dedication and attention. Unfortunately, we regret to inform you that we cannot accept your application at this time. Our soccer program is one of the most competitive at this school, however we encourage you to reapp…

What a load of shit.

The past few weeks have been horrid.

Soccer is as tense as ever, though Jisung would be lying if he said that his fight with Chenle didn’t fuel him to work even harder during practice. His job sucks, especially after someone spilled a bucket of old oil on him (it was cold, thank goodness but still gross nonetheless). So far he’s gotten another rejection. Who knew that getting into college would be this hard?

He wishes that he could say his relationship with you is the saving grace, but it’s really not. You’re in the hospital now, and the two of you have been talking less and less. Even now with his feud between his friends, he feels even more alone. Today when he calls, you sound even more tired than usual.

“Hey, chocolate honeycomb bunny,” Jisung says, giving his absolute worst at giving a cringe-worthy nickname. It seems you’re too tired to even give a repulsed response.

“Hey.” You’re quiet for a moment, only your breathing heard across the line. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” sighs Jisung, running a hand through his dark locks. “Just exhausted. My coworker is getting on my last nerve.”

“The same one you talked about last week?”

“Who spilled the dirty oil on me? Yeah,” he responds with a roll of his eyes. “We’ve both been working the same amount of time, I just want to know why he’s so slow to pick it up.”

It’s characteristic of you to agree, seeing as complaining is one of your favorite past times. But you don’t, voice only coming out softly across the call, “Maybe just give him some time.”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” he sighs. “How about you? Are you feeling better?”

“About the same,” you respond truthfully. God, you sound so tired. He almost feels bad for making you talk to him when you clearly sound exhausted. “Any more results?” You ask, regarding his college acceptances.

“No,” he shakes his head. He doesn’t understand. He’s a good student, he’s done community service. Just what more do they want from him? “You said I was special, but I don’t think the colleges see that.”

He can almost see your small smile in his mind. “You are special. Just ‘cause they don’t see it doesn’t you aren’t.”

“Eh, I don’t know,” Jisung says, playing with a loose thread on his bedsheet.

What you say next catches him off guard. “Maybe we can both be college-less, together.”

“What?” He asks, brows tightening in confusion. “Didn’t you get into the journalism program at that one university?” He’s caught you. You’re silent on the line for a few long seconds, but the quiet is deafening for him.

“I did, but Jisung, I…” You hesitate. “I’m not going.”

“What do you mean you’re not going?” He asks.

“I… I don’t know if I want to.” In a small voice, you continue, “I don’t know that I’ll make it that long.” What are you saying? What are you implying? Heart racing, Jisung tries to decipher these words in his mind. To him, it just sounds like the end.

“You’re giving up already, I hear it in your voice.”

“I’m not,�� you say, a broken promise. “I just… want to be prepared for the worst.”

“The worst isn’t coming. You’re going to get through this. You’re going to beat it. I know you are.” It becomes blatantly clear in this moment that the person Jisung is trying to convince, is himself.

His pleas fall upon deaf ears, because you argue back in what seems like the strongest voice you’ve made in months. As though you’ve amassed all your remaining energy for this conversation. “I’m not a hero, Jisung. I’m not cut out for this. The doctors said it’s not looking good.”

“Then prove them wrong. You’re gonna beat it.”

“I don’t want to be the underdog either, Ji. You know I hate them.” What you say next has his blood boiling. “I don’t deserve it anyways, no one would want me to come back.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jisung raises his voice now, volume growing with each word.

“No one likes me,” you spit out across the line, and he doesn’t need to see you to imagine how incensed you are at the moment. “I’m rude, I’m loud, I cross boundaries and I say things that hurt without caring about who it touches. And before you yell at me that no one thinks of me like that, these are things I’ve heard from other people.” Your voice breaks, as does Jisung’s heart. “If this were a movie, no one would root for me to survive.”

“I do,” Jisung says, voice strong. “I’m rooting for you. Every. Single. Day. And who cares about how other people see you? You’re rude? You’re crass? I like you because of those things, because you’re different from me. Am I not enough?”

“You’re different,” you relent, voice tired. “You’re the only one who matters. But I—“ You choke up. “I’m just tired of fighting. I don’t want to go to sleep every night not knowing if I’ll wake up the next morning. I want to be strong, and I want to face every day knowing that it could be my last… I don’t want to leave anything behind—”

“You’re not leaving,” he cuts in.

“—and I can’t go through every day letting you think that everything is okay, because they’re not. But I’m ready to let go, Ji. Because I’m happy with what I had, with what we had, and I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Tears are falling down his cheeks now, suiciding off the surface of his face and staining his bed sheets. He doesn’t know if the tears are the result of sadness, anger, or the pain of loving someone the universe would never let him have, yet it hurts all the same. “But I love you! I told you that I loved you.”

“I love you too,” you cry, and the sound is heartbreaking. “But I just wish that were enough.”

A pregnant silence consumes both of you. All that can be heard is the sound of your mutual crying, along with your breathing that Jisung had learned to fall asleep to. When you speak again, your voice is steady. You had always been the stronger one. “I don’t think you should call anymore.” A few sniffles. He can’t even speak. “Goodbye, Jisung.”

Then the line dies.

It’s Christmastime. He knows it’s cold, probably even colder in the hospital where you are.

Now, Jisung knows you don’t want anything from him. You don’t want him around. In the past weeks he must have become someone even he wouldn’t want around. And though he gets the feeling that you’ll never need him again, he figures you could use a sweater. It’s nothing much, and really he thinks it could be better.

A hoodie, not fit to your size but slightly larger because he knew you well enough to know you’d like it like that. On one sleeve, near the wrist, a patch of a soccer ball. He had learned how to sew it on himself. On the other, his initials. JS.

He sends it in the mail, in a box to the hospital with your name and room number on it. There’s no letter, nothing. Just his bare soul in the form of an oversized cotton hoodie. He’d send it himself, appearing at the door to your hospital bed, but something tells him he’s run out of things to say.

His phone rings at three in the morning.

He knows what it means.

February 2nd, at 2:39AM. The world lost you.

It would never be the same again, and neither would he.

Grief is an interesting thing, someone once told him.

He doesn’t quite remember who it was, whether it was his sister comforting him after the death of their goldfish, the guidance counselor at his school giving him a required appointment after the passing of a student, or yourself. But as the hours go by, it feels more and more like a weight in his chest that has been sitting on a hollowed place in his heart.

Grief is indescribable, and Jisung doesn’t know if this is because his limited seventeen year old vocabulary hasn’t collected enough fitting words to even begin to verbalize his emotions, or if because it really is indescribable.

The first few days had been hell.

He had almost become someone that he didn’t know, barely stepping out of bed and perhaps worrying his sister out of her mind. It was his way of ignoring the world, dissociating himself from the irrefutable truth that you weren’t really gone. You were still laying in bed, three hours away as usual, struggling but still fighting. If he could lay in bed, sleeping the days away and ignoring his text message condolences from his friends, he could pretend for some time that things were the way they were, eight months ago.

Eight months before it.

Eight months before he lost you. Before your relationship, a burgeoning dandelion in the nook of spring. But dandelions represent rebirth, the reappearance of hope like a beacon after an arduous winter, and you would never have another spring.

He could not pretend, because every morning the sun rose again, and he would have to reach his head out from the burrow of blankets he had buried himself in. He would need to face it for himself that he woke up, and you didn’t. His friends texted. His sister knocked on his door and begged him to eat, even going as far as to cook his favorite foods as a means to lure him from the darkness of his corner. He ate. But it was never the same.

Messy bedheads, earbuds tucked in with muzak playing gently like the thrum of his heart which beat enough for the both of you, tear-stained pillow cases, knees to the chest, light failing to shine in through the blinds which remained closed, counting the seconds between each breath, dreaming insubordinate dreams.

The first few days went like that. Empty.

Then he was angry.

Angry because the world had given him a love worth changing for, then ripped it from his inexperienced hands. He had never had anything in his life! Not a mother, not a father. Could he not have this one lily, this flower which sought to remind him of the fragility of life? And even more so, he was angry for you. You were a fire—you were a bottle of passion bursting at the seams, a well of untapped potential, a boldness which no one else could emulate—and the universe crushed you beneath its foot.

And suddenly, the emptiness of your hollow space reflected upon him.

He should have been better, should have done more. A soccer ball proposition? A sweater? It was laughable; that was the least he could give? If only he had called, if only he hadn’t listened to you like the meek child he was, things could be better.

And above all, he was sad.

What would he do without you?

Moving on seemed useless. A light at the end of a dark tunnel which stretched for ages. An epiphany that you would never reach.

He just hoped that it was not cold. That you left the world in a ball of light, surrounded in the warmth of family and love, not the rigidness of the unforgiving world. Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he hoped that the soccer ball sleeve had been clutched to your chest, and that his hoodie could have provided just a little bit of that warmth.

The walking pattern outside his bedroom door is different from his sister’s. So is the knock on the door; his older sister’s is much more quiet, reserved, as though she was afraid to wake him. This one is harsh, and it reverberates through the room before the door opens.

The air in the room is still for a moment.

“Jisung.”

It’s Chenle. And Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck, as well as Jaemin. They all take their seats either on the end of his bed, the floor, or his beanbag, but Jisung doesn’t move from his place underneath the blankets.

“What do you want?” He manages to groan out in a small voice.

Someone places a hand on his leg, a comforting gesture. He thinks it’s Jaemin from the gentle touch. “We’re here for you.”

Donghyuck comments, “You haven’t been to practice this week.” Of course that would be what they would mention first. Jisung scoffs. “I’m kind of going through something.”

“And we’re here.” Mark’s voice.

“We wanted to apologize.” Chenle speaks now, and despite being best friends since they were five, he’s the last person Jisung expected to say sorry. In their decade-long friendship, Chenle was the confident one, the one who charged forward without consequence while Jisung trailed behind, cleaning up his mess. “We’ve been… assholes, simply put.” Had he been in higher spirits, Jisung would have snorted. “We thought we understood what you were going through, and we thought it was dumb. To let yourself get hurt over some random girl… but we were wrong. We didn’t understand your point of view.”

“Not even a little bit,” says Donghyuck, head hanging low.

“Yeah, we’re supposed to be your friends. Your team! We’re supposed to lift you up when you’re down and… well, we haven’t been doing that. And we’re sorry. I’m sorry.” Chenle says. Slowly, Jisung lifts his head from below the blanket to face his friends. They all wear a variety of expressions, all somber. “And we know now… she’s not just some random girl.”

Yeah, they’ve all been assholes, some more than others, and Jisung can’t exactly say that they were any help in his struggle. But perhaps this was something he needed to go through alone. At the time, he needed you. But now… he just really needs his best friends.

Tears sting at his eyes for the nth time.

“Come here, you crybaby,” says Jaemin, opening his arms.

It’s Monday, meaning he has to go back to school today. He’s not ready, how could he be? It hasn’t even been a week since you… left, but he knows he has to go back. His sister, God bless her, had let him take the first few days off but now that the weekend has ended and school has rolled back around, he has no choice.

“You look like shit.”

Donghyuck has always lacked a filter. It would hurt if Jisung didn’t know that Donghyuck meant that in the best way possible. You look like shit, he says. So I’m glad you found it in you to come to school, is what he doesn’t say.

Jisung closes his locker with a sigh. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” snickers his friend, and Jisung turns his head to find Mark and Jaemin approaching. “Morning,” greets Jaemin as he taps the top of Jisung’s head, despite being shorter.

“Hi,” responds Jisung quietly, clutching his chemistry textbook to his chest. The three of them look at him with quiet and somber eyes, but don’t say anything. Mark places a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving it a small rub.

“You got this.”

The truth is, he can’t do this. The world feels quiet and empty, lacking a particular passion that you used to always embody. It could be worse. Thank goodness your relationship was rather private; he doesn’t know how he’d be able to function at school had there been curious eyes on him, if you had gone to the same school as him.

The day goes rather slowly, and Jisung busies himself with catching up on his work that he had missed. He could almost pretend like things are normal. It’s not until fifth period calculus that something strange happens.

An office TA pokes her head in and scrambles over to the teacher, who was in the midst of a very enthralling lecture on integrals that Jisung was definitely not paying great attention to. The TA whispers something into the teacher’s ear, then hands her a piece of paper. Mrs. Huang nods, then suddenly Jisung finds her eyes on him. “Jisung, Mr. Moon wants you in his office.”

Him? Why him of all people?

Mr. Moon is the guidance counselor at their school, and Jisung has a moment of internal panic—had he somehow found out about you? Should he prepare himself for a lecture about grief and moving on?

With a gulp, he nods.

Mr. Moon is a fairly nice man, with a friendly smile and a reputation for being a pushover teacher. Jisung had met with him a few months ago to discuss his desire to pursue a soccer scholarship but he highly doubts that’s the case now.

When Jisung enters Mr. Moon’s office, the first thing he sees isn’t Mr. Moon but a tall man with a stoic expression standing behind his desk. In contrast to the stranger, Mr. Moon wears his trademark smile. “Jisung, good to see you. Still getting a kick out of that old ball?”

Of course, Mr. Moon doesn’t know that Jisung skipped practice all last week to mope in his bed, but Jisung nods politely. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” responds the teacher with a smile. “Take a seat.”

He gestures to the chair in front of his desk, and cautiously does Jisung take a seat. The tall, bruff man is still standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, having not yet said a single word. Somehow the atmosphere is tense, and Jisung’s quite sure he knows what this is about.

“Now, Jisung, I’ve called you in today because—”

“Is this about (Name)?” Perhaps it’s a bit rude of him, but Jisung doesn’t want to be prodded at, at least not by people who think they know him. The last thing he wants is pity.

Mr. Moon’s eyebrow raises just the slightest, and he leans forward on his desk. “Why, yes, it is. How did you know?”

A scoff leaves Jisung’s lips, but it’s much weaker than he would like. “My question is, how did you know? Who told you?” Who was it that shared information on his personal life? Was it his sister? His friends?

“Nobody had to tell me, Jisung. (Name) sent the letter to me herself.”

Wait… what?

Jisung blinks, hands falling slack on his lap. “W-What? What letter?”

Perhaps his staring is a bit too obvious, for Mr. Moon gestures to the stranger in question with a hand. “Jisung, this is Johnny Seo.” Finally, the intimidating stranger has a name. “Johnny is the head coach of the soccer team at Greenwood University—” Wait, Greenwood University? That’s Jisung’s dream school—well, it was his dream school, until they rejected his application for a soccer scholarship. What would they want to do with him? “—and he wants to offer you a full-ride scholarship.”

What?

Jisung’s mouth falls open. What? What the hell? Hadn’t they just rejected him three months ago? His eyes must be bugging out of his face, so he blinks repeatedly, trying to find the words to say.

“W-Wait, what? A… A full ride?” He stammers, unable to find his tongue.

The man named Johnny only nods. “Full ride. Covered tuition, dorming, and soccer costs. All you have to do is keep your grades up and keep scoring those fancy goals of yours I’ve heard about.”

“But—But, you rejected me… why now?”

For the first time, Johnny gives a small smile. “Because of the letter.” There it is, that letter again that Jisung has no idea about. He looks to Mr. Moon for guidance. All the counselor does is open his desk drawer and pull out an envelope, which he slides across his desk. “(Name) (Last Name) wrote a recommendation letter to the university, and honestly, it was stunning. It was enough to make the admissions board… bend a little, to say the least.”

Reaching forward, Jisung grabs the envelope and examines it in his hands. It’s opened, but yes, on the front is your handwriting. He’s cried so much this past week that he doesn’t know how many times tears have touched his eyes, but they sting once more. This time, he doesn’t let them fall.

“She… wrote a letter. For me?”

“That she did,” responds Mr. Moon.

“She’s right,” says Johnny suddenly. “In our work at the university, we’re always looking for the best of the best. We should look deeper, sometimes.” The words sink in the room, and Jisung finds himself staring down at the envelope in his hands. What things had you had to say about him?

Honestly, all he can think about is his failure. How he failed to be there for you, how he cowarded in your presence when you told him to leave you alone. He bites down on his lip.

“So? Will you accept our offer?”

Jisung looks up again, meeting Johnny’s expectant eyes. “I…” His mouth suddenly runs dry. “I don’t know, I… I need to think about it.”

“You’re not graduating for another four months. Take your time.” Slowly, still in glassy-eyed disbelief, Jisung nods. His fingers find the edge of the envelope, tracing its pointed edge. You wrote that for him. From across the desk, Mr. Moon speaks up. “You should read that letter, Jisung, and realize what’s coming for you: good things.”

To Whom It May Concern,

Hello. My name is (Name) (Last Name), and I am a high school student writing this letter to appeal a rejection by your university. Not of my own application, but of an extraordinary person with the name Jisung Park. In my humble opinion, I believe that your institution has made a grave mistake in not offering a scholarship to Jisung. So, I write this letter to appeal such a rejection, and to do something that he hated, though it was what I always did best: write about Jisung.

Now, Jisung is a humble person who never speaks up about his struggles, but the truth is that of all students, I believe he is the most in need of this scholarship. His parents passed when he was young, and he grew up in the care of his older sister who raised him. Their small but strong family made sacrifices, gave up luxuries, and endeavored to survive.

In the midst of this crisis, Jisung found his one savior: soccer.

He is, without a doubt, the best soccer player I have ever seen in my entire life. He can sprint across the field in half a normal player’s time, and I’ve never seen him miss a goal or a pass. But his soccer prowess isn’t what makes him great. Moreover, Jisung is the person you want on a team. He believes in teamwork, but is always striving to be better. He doesn’t want to stand out, but does so anyways. He is never arrogant, nor boastful. If there is one person who deserves this, it’s him.

But, I am sure that you are thinking: why should this letter mean anything to you? I’m not a highly valued individual in the community, nor have I done anything significant for my name to mean anything. I’m only a seventeen year old student, a struggling journalist.

The answer to that question is, I know Jisung Park. You only see his grades, the shallow things on his application. You will never get to see the Jisung Park that I knew and loved.

In my time alive, Jisung Park made an impact on my life that will never be forgotten. Even when life seemed the darkest, not a beam of light in the field's view, Jisung picked me up and made me see the sunset. I know now, the sunset is beautiful, warm, and comforting—everything that Jisung is. He never left my side, and never for a single moment did I ever feel alone in his presence. The world often overplays the saying “a heart of gold,” but the truth is that Jisung has one.

I used to think that love would be red, like the burning of one’s lungs racing down a soccer field, or black and white, made to be simple. But the truth is, love is golden. Golden like the sunset painting streaks against the floor, golden like Jisung. It’s a warmth that covers you from head to toe, relenting into a future that you don’t know.

He is my golden boy, and he can be yours too.

I may not have a future, but if there’s one thing that I know, it’s that Jisung deserves one.

I’m a journalist. I don’t write love letters, but perhaps this is the closest I can ever get. And should Jisung ever read this letter, I hope he knows that with this, I dedicated my last spark of sunlight to him.

Sincerely,

(Name) (Last Name)

Your funeral occurs on February 13th, a week and four days after your passing.

Jisung stands in front of the bathroom mirror, nose scrunched in concentration as he makes a feeble attempt on his necktie. This is surely not as easy as throwing on a soccer jersey. “Ugh,” he groans, fingers getting confused again.

“Need help?”

His sister’s dainty voice calls him from the bathroom door. Dressed in all black, she’s ready too. Turning his head, Jisung sighs. “Please.” She makes his way toward him, fingers coming to work on his tie already with steady hands.

“You’re too tall now,” she says softly, with a chuckle. It’s true; he used to look up to her, physically and figuratively, but now he’s an entire head above her. “You’ve grown up a lot.”

It was his eighteenth birthday just a few days ago but to be quite honest, he hadn’t had the heart to celebrate it. If anything, he had always thought that his eighteenth birthday would be like an epiphany for him. As though he would wake up the morning of, feeling like an adult with all the answers to the world.

The truth is, he’s eighteen now and he still feels like he has no idea what he’s doing.

“I don’t feel any different,” he admits. “I thought eighteen would mean something.”

“You’ll get there, trust me. And anyways, I always told you not to grow up too fast.”

For a moment there’s a silence as his sister swoops the tie in and out, weaving it to form the perfect knot. Feeling something scratch at the back of his throat, Jisung speaks. “... I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for, silly? I was the one who never taught you how to knot a necktie,” she chuckles.

“Not for that,” he says. “For last week. I… probably scared you.”

Suddenly, his sister is wearing that demure smile of hers again. The one that is small and polite, but always seems to carry more weight in it than he can see. “No. It’s okay, I knew you’d be better.”

Naeun finally finishes the knot, tightening it the slightest around Jisung’s neck. “There you go.” He offers her a small thanks as he turns to look in the mirror, and she begins to leave. A sigh leaves him; there’s no avoiding it now, he’s ready to go.

“You know, Jisung,” she suddenly speaks up from the doorway. “I’m glad that you met her. Even if it ended up like this… you’re different. In a good way, and I think she had a lot to do with it. Even if you don’t feel different… you are.”

In the months of your relationship, Jisung had come to learn your insecurities. You were loud and proud, but with that confidence came an unwavering insecurity that you were unliked by those you spilled your tongue to. At the funeral, Jisung sees that that’s not at all true.

People give speeches for you, place flowers on your grave. The school newspaper had even written an article to commemorate your presence on their team, and the president of the club reads it aloud. A number of hospital staff make their appearance.

Even Jisung’s friends show up, despite the clear memory of them calling you crazy early on. Maybe they were right, maybe you were crazy. But he probably was too.

It doesn’t rain a single drop, though it had been pouring for three days before. Instead, the sun peeks through the overcast clouds, gifting sunshine.

Jisung smiles.

He probably looks like an idiot, carrying the soccer ball around the entire funeral but he knows what it means to him, and what it means to you. When he places it on your grave, the grass still fresh, his eyes catch the carefully written words on a singular white spot.

I love you.

He knows that he means it.

At eighteen, there a lot of things that Jisung still doesn’t know. But even so, there are a handful of truths that he can hold onto forever. One, he’s still an incredible soccer player and girls are still very scary. But like soccer, maybe that just takes time and practice.

Two, growing up isn’t about a number. It’s not about partying or drinking, nor is it about rushing into relationships that have little meaning. For years Jisung had wanted to grow up, to face the world with no fears and be able to cruise through. But he knows now that growing up is about being strong in the face of sadness, pain, grief. About waking up every morning even if you feel like you have no reason to.

Love is the same.

Love isn’t about making out on the bleachers after practice or trying to copy the coy clichés seen in romance movies. It’s about the sacrifices, like four hour bus rides. It’s about communication and connection, like a recommendation letter traced in gold. Because of you, he’s moving forward. He can go to college, and the day will never come when he stops being grateful toward you and everything you’ve done. That’s love, and he will spend the rest of his life loving you. Maybe the love will change but it will always be love.

It hurts that you’re gone, it really does. Jisung doesn’t think it’ll ever stop hurting.

But the last thing he knows is that things will be okay.

Life moves on, and he will too.

#neowritingsnet #dreamwritersnet #nct-writers #neohbh #neothestars #park jisung angst #jisung angst #jisung fluff #park jisung fluff #park jisung fanfic #jisung fanfic #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct angst #nct fluff #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic

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windermeare · 3 years ago

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The Virtue of Valentine

“Winter in February would never be not beautiful. Although the air was cold, it was not unforgiving. It was rather warm and tender as if the wind knew he was coming. The morning sun peeked through the blinds and as the last piece of snow touched the ground, he was born; right on the day of love.”

— J.

Birth Name: Jeong Jae Hyun, but he legalized to Jeong Yoon Oh (정윤오)

Stage Name: Jaehyun (재현)

English Name: Jay

Birthday: February 14, 1997

Affiliations: SM Entertainment, NCT, NCT 127, NCT U

Instagram: _jeongjaehyun

Jeong Yuno (Yoon-Oh), better known by his stage name Jaehyun is a South Korean singer and actor. He is a member of the boy group NCT and its sub-units, NCT-U and NCT 127. He debuted in April 2016 as a member of the rotational unit NCT U and as a member of Seoul-based fixed unit NCT 127 in July 2016. He began his acting debut by portraying Cha Minho in a rom-com Korean drama Dear.M.

In June 2022, he was selected as the Brand Ambassador for Prada after attending their ready-to-wear fashion show in Milan. He has participated in NCT LAB, a project for NCT members and his own project was released on August 18. The project is his first solo song, titled as Forever Only and he participated in the lyrics writing personally.

Trivial Facts

- He was born in Seoul, South Korea.

- He went to Seoul School of Performing Arts.

- He was the Student Council President.

- His birth name is Jeong Jaehyun, but he later legalized it to Jeong Yuno (Yoon Oh) because his grandmother told him 'Jaehyun' does not have any certain meaning.

- He got the nickname Casper during rookies era due to his fair skin.

- He lived in Connecticut for 4 years during his childhood.

- His English name is Jay, because when he lived in US, his teacher couldn't pronounce 'Jaehyun'.

- He plays piano well, he has been playing it ever since he was little. His mother had influenced him to play it.

- His grandmother was a professional dancer when she was young. She now likes to watch his performance and giving him advices.

- He speaks fluent English.

- He is a pretty bad liar because his ears will turn red brightly whenever he lies.

- He has a song called Try Again (SM Station: d.ear x Jaehyun)

- He also has a self-composed song, Lost (I Want You To Stay) which he performed for the first time at NCT 127 concert: THE LINK back in 2021.

- He covered I Like Me Better by Lauv on YouTube.

- He is starring in Dear.M, a romcom k-drama.

- His sleeping habit is hugging the blanket.

- He likes sport. He likes to play basketball the most and he is good at swimming. Lately he has been playing tennis with his father.

- He is an early bird.

- He does not believe in ghost, but he believes alien exists.

- He eats a lot.

- He can also cook if he follows the recipe. One of his famous recipe, the spicy stirred-pork has entered the menu in SM Café.

- He likes matcha and green tea, his favorite Starbucks drinks are Americano and Green Tea Latte. He would also go for a green tea ice cream anytime. He also likes pistachio ice cream.

- His likes Pringles.

- His favorite season is spring.

- He was part of pre-debut group, SM Rookies.

- He is good at rap, he likes rapping. He auditioned for the rap position but ended up being primarily vocalist.

- He is the only baritone in NCT 127 and U's vocal line.

- His voice can be described as being deep, warm and mature and is therefore quite in contrast to the rest of NCT’s vocal line.

- He wears Jo Malone and Tom Ford perfume.

- He has the best alcohol tolerance, up to 3 bottles Soju. He jokingly said that he isn't even that good, the rest of the members just have a low alcohol tolerance.

- He has a black belt in Taekwondo.

- He was the DJ for the radio show NCT Night Night with Johnny.

- He was an MC at Inkigayo.

- He admitted he wouldn't switch body with anyone.

- Haechan and Jungwoo were Jaehyun's roomates, now he has his own room.

- Taeyong said that Jaehyun has the most muscles out of all the NCT members.

- Mark said that Jaehyun is good at taking care of the younger members. He also said that he would like to have Jaehyun as his brother in another life.

- GOT7's Bambam and Yugyeom, SEVENTEEN's The8, DK, and Mingyu, BTS' Jungkook, ASTRO's Cha Eunwoo and Jaehyun himself are in a '97 liner group chat. They usually write thank yous to each other in their album.

- GOT7's Bambam and Yugyeom said Jaehyun is the one who would most likely to ghost on the '97 liner group chat. Bambam said it happens a lot because Jaehyun is busy and his schedule would clash with theirs.

- SEVENTEEN's DK went to the same school as Jaehyun, and he was afraid to approach or talk to him first because he thought Jaehyun was too handsome.

Source: kprofiles.com & interviews

#재현 #profile

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the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond · 2 years ago

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J'ai publié 7 323 fois en 2022

C'est 5 284 billets de plus qu'en 2021 !

60 billets créés (1%)

7��263 billets reblogués (99%)

Les blogs que j'ai le plus reblogués :

@zoeykallus

@wild-karrde

@kaminocasey

@cobaltbeam

@clonememesfrikyeah

J'ai étiqueté 1 663 billets en 2022

#awesome other people's art - 120 billets

#awesome other people's writing - 78 billets

#*nods nods* - 52 billets

#^this - 52 billets

#pouic tish - 34 billets

#👀 - 29 billets

#awesome other people's writting - 28 billets

#m o o d - 26 billets

#the bad batch - 26 billets

#lp art - 20 billets

Tag le plus long : 89 caractères

#diversity of alien race and scenery makes me feel it s one of the few real sw show lately

Mes billets vedette en 2022 :

n°5

Star wars character sheet (old ver)

Well it's not really a character sheet, but an ultra reference for your star wars character. It can be a good base to develop an original character with who you want to roleplay with, or draw/write about it etc.

CHARACTER INTRO

GLOBAL gender – race – age – sexuality - homeworld

BODY shape – height - hair(color, shape) – eye - skin - freckles – scars – birthmark – cybernetic – tattoo - etc

DISABILITIES ?

BACKGROUND + ERA dark past / old fashioned wanderer etc - in which era your character is evolving?

RELATIONSHIP family - allies – enemies – friends – lover - famous connection

ALIGNEMENT chaotic/neutral/lawful; good/neutral/evil ; faction ; religion

ACTIVITY career – job – etc

GOAL

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54 notes - publié le 14 juin 2022

n°4

"Guest" & Bonus

Cody deserving a hug, more caff and less kniffe:

No thoughts, just Crosshair in my brain:

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56 notes - publié le 30 mai 2022

n°3

Lana at the end of the Rishi//Traitor arc:

Luhcy: You have to apologize to Theron

Lana: Fine.

Lana: 'Unfuck you' or whatever.

This quote is generated from https://incorrectquotesgenerator.com

This suits so well to that situation kfjsjdkskks

63 notes - publié le 23 juin 2022

n°2

Siblings dynamic in TBB

So I finally jump into the water and get back to create content... I hope y'all are going to be kind to me .. please! ~ Here we go, my headcanon about brotherhood on the Clone Force 99'

The gif have been made by @lisasstars and dividers by @djarrex!

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67 notes - publié le 26 août 2022

Mon billet n°1 en 2022

To all metalhead \m/

Tomorrow in France, a metal festival named Hellfest is going to beginning. It will be from the 16th to 19th june, and from 23th to 26th. I will be broadcasted on Arte TV. It's a German-French tv, and it's FREE. I have linked the English versio of the website.

There will be BIG NAME, like Ghost, Megadeath, Gojira, Korn, Deep Purple, Scorpion, Guns'n Roses, Sabaton, Epica, Nightwish, Metallica, Airbourne, Megadeath, Wardruna, Therion, Sepultura, etc..

And of course, less "famous" by general public. There is various stage for all variety in metal, on the stage named "Warzone", "Temple", "Altar", "Valley". You can found all the lineup and days here.

I hope some of you will enjoy looking at the free and official stream on Arte! \m/

216 notes - publié le 15 juin 2022

Obtenez votre année 2022 en revue sur Tumblr →

Wow. What a mess! x)

#tumblr2022 #année en revue #mon année tumblr 2022 en revue #votre année tumblr en revue #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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wallgirl · 4 years ago

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The Little Nereid Part 14

Record of Ragnarok fanfiction

Poseidon x OC

Word count: 2,800

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful. Loving someone like Poseidon is not easy period, let alone as your first love. But Dynamene is young and naïve, and all she wants is a chance to be at the sea god’s side.

Categories and warnings: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending, slow-burn (ish); no sexual content. There will be some graphic violence in the future.

Updated regularly; will have about 20 parts total.

Slight body horror in this chapter

—

When Dynamene's eyes opened again, she was underwater, drifting a hundred feet above a vast ocean trench. It stretched as far as she could see in either direction, jagged cliffs reaching up at her with treacherous fingers. It was a stark contrast from the glamorous palace she'd just been in.

This must be the trench where the witch lives. Dynamene turned this way and that, but saw no one else around; only an eel that slithered past in a hurried manner. Aphrodite said she lived in the deepest part, so... I guess I'm going down there. She wasn't crazy at the prospect of going into a deep sea trench, but there was no turning back now. She allowed herself to sink down, down, down into the black shadows. Deep sea fish wiggled by, some staring at her in surprise. Most of her sisters weren't fond of the deep ocean, but Dynamene stared back at them, just as curious. She remembered when she'd asked Poseidon to take her to a place like this someday. That time will come soon, she promised herself, lips setting into a line of determination.

When she finally touched the bottom, she could barely see anything around her. The silt beneath her feet was far colder and slimier than that of the shallow depths, and she shuddered. She walked for a little ways, wondering where to go next, until she made out the faintest pinprick of light in the distance.

She pushed off from the ground and swam towards it. The source of light was an enchanted torch, the first of a long row that led towards a cliff face in the near distance. Dynamene followed the trail to the stone wall, where an underwater cavern awaited her. An ancient sign, covered in rust and barnacles, simply read "Welcome." Reassured that she was in the right place, she hurried into the cavern and followed the tunnel directly up.

Suddenly, she broke the water's surface, gasping in surprise. She had surfaced in a dimly-lit underground cave, kept dry from an air pocket. She pushed her damp hair out of her eyes, looking around in surprise. She pulled herself up out of the water onto a shallow out-jut of rock, catching her breath, when she realized there was someone standing just a dozen feet away.

Staring back at her with interest was the strangest creature she'd ever seen.

It was a woman, skin as white as the pearls that hung in thin strands about her neck and down across her chest. Her body was wrapped loosely from neck to toe in dark, mismatched sheets, with webbed feet devoid of toenails peeking out from underneath the makeshift skirt. Her eyes had no discernible pupil or iris; they were just as pale and empty as the rest of her body, shining damply in the light of the candlestick she held. A drooping hood covered her head, but there was one spot where hair had come loose, resting against her cheekbone. Dynamene looked closer, wondering at her hair color, before recoiling mentally. It was not hair, but some sort of fleshy tendril.

On edge from the woman's peculiar appearance, Dynamene slowly rose to her feet. "Are you... Are you the witch?" Dynamene asked hesitantly.

The woman blinked. Her milky eyes stared at the Nereid unabashedly. "Yes, I am," she answered softly, her voice raspy and lilting. "And you are..." She swayed closer. "Mm. A Nereid." She began to smile, her teeth unnaturally small and spaced out.

Dynamene suppressed a shudder. What was this woman? She almost looked like she was part fish, but she couldn't place her as any species that she recognized. Definitely not a nymph. But she supposed it really wasn't any of her business; she had come to make a deal. "I was told you might be able to help me with magic," she said.

"Indeed I can," the witch replied cheerfully. "Why don't we sit down together, and you can tell me what it is you need." She turned to amble back into the depths of the cave, and Dynamene hesitantly followed suit, wringing the water from her chiton.

Hanging from the roof of the cave was all sorts of plants and vines of every color and shape, some with tied ingredients dangling from them. Countless shelves and cabinets lined the walls, each one filled with strange and exotic items that Dynamene couldn't place. She looked all about herself in awe. "Are those all ingredients?" She recoiled at the sight of what seemed to be several whale eyes in various stages of decomposition.

"Yes. My work demands quite the vast range of materials. It's taken me a few centuries to collect all that you see here. Rest assured, all these ingredients mean that there is no spell or potion I can't perform." The witch had led her to a small table that looked as if it was a once-thick stalagmite that had been broken off. Dynamene lowered herself carefully onto one of two thoroughly rusted stools. She made a silent prayer that the stool wouldn't collapse under her limited weight.

"Now, what I can do for you?" The witch set the candlestick down between them before folding her hands attentively.

Trying not to be unnerved by the witch's alien appearance, Dynamene focused her gaze on the rough surface of the table. "I... I need something to help me with love."

"Love?" Although it was a question, the witch didn't sound surprised at all. "Well, that's not an uncommon request for someone your age. Tell me more."

Dynamene squirmed bashfully. "Uh, you see..." There seemed to be no way to beat around the bush, as hard as it was to be direct about her feelings. "Well, like the rest of my sisters... As a Nereid, I serve Poseidon at his palace, and..."

The witch's face immediately lit up in the strangest way, like a starving shark that had smelled blood. Her small teeth reflected the candlelight damply. "Poseidon. Do you?"

"Yes. And... Well, somehow, some way... I have fallen in love with him." By the end of the sentence, Dynamene's voice was hardly more than a whisper.

"In love with him," the witch echoed. "In love with him. Oh, my. My, my. What a predicament." Her gleeful smile didn't match her sympathetic tone at all.

Dynamene bit her lower lip nervously, a bit unnerved by the witch's strange behavior. "But, you see... things have become difficult. My family doesn't want me to be around him. They wouldn't even give it a chance. They think he's dangerous. And... I know he would never hurt me, but..."

"Oh, dear. Family... So loving and accepting, until they aren't." The witch tutted sympathetically. "Even our loved ones don't always understand our hearts. It's unfair of them to not give your love a chance... To not even hear you out."

"Yes! I know I could be happy with him, and..." Dynamene rubbed tears away from her eyes, only for them to be quickly replaced the next moment. "But they wouldn't listen. And now, I feel all alone."

"Don't you worry, darling," the witch whispered. "You're not alone. So many others find themselves in this predicament: misunderstood, shut-out, feeling desperate... That's where people like me come in to help. I can help you get exactly what you're looking for." She tilted her head, examining Dynamene. "So, tell me... what is it that you want my help with?"

Dynamene took a deep breath. "I want something that will... lead to him proposing to me, somehow." The look in her eyes went from hurt to almost fierce.

"A proposal. Well, well. That's a rather tall order." The witch flicked the tendril away from her face. "Wanting the hand of an Olympian... Poseidon, no less. My, my."

Dynamene shrunk against her seat, feeling rather uneasy. "Is that something you can help with?"

"Oh, sure," the witch said dismissively, waving her hand. "Don't you fret, darling. We'll get you your man. I just..." She licked her lips with a flash of her pale tongue. "Wasn't expecting this request today."

Dynamene nodded.

"So, tell me a bit more. I assure you, I won't judge. I've heard it all. You want him to make a commitment to you, sure... But what about after? Making it to the altar is only half the battle, you know."

"I... I have a guarantee that my union with him will be happy. I just need him to make me an offer. And then... Once we're united in marriage... Everything will be taken care of." Dynamene's cheeks began to burn.

"A guarantee? What might that be?" The witch cocked one brow.

"A blessing from Hera."

The witch's eyes nearly bulged out of her head in disbelief, making them look far too large for her face. "A blessing from Hera?! Well, you lucky girl. Those come few and far between." She sighed, tapping her cheek. "I myself met Hera once, you know..."

Dynamene started in shock. "Did she give you a blessing, too?" She asked, curiosity piqued.

"What? No!" The witch gave a harsh, barking laugh. "I had an agreement with her, you see... It fell through. And, you know, her temper and all..." She scratched her cheek with one pointed nail. A single droplet of gray blood oozed from the scratch, and Dynamene flinched at the casual violence of her act. "She cursed me to become this."

"Oh my," Dynamene whispered, the color draining from her face. She immediately felt awful for having judged the woman's appearance. "I'm so sorry, that's horrible of her!"

"That's an Olympian for you," the witch sighed. "But I've done well enough for myself since then. I've honed my craft, and this is how I spend my days now. Worse ways to live one's life." She smiled once more. "But let's bring things back to you now. You're my client, after all. Let's see..." She rose from the stool and crossed to a dusty boudoir covered in tomes.

"I have quite the list of spells for situations like this; just about anything you can think of." She picked up a book at random and flipped through it, dust flying off the pages. "But I'll need to know a little more to narrow things down. Tell me... What does he think of you?"

"Um..." Dynamene couldn't resist a shy grin. "I think he likes me well enough. He's given me presents, and we've had conversations... He's a lot softer on me than he could be when I've messed up." To put it lightly.

"Oh, lovely!" The gleeful tone had returned to the witch's voice. "So we don't have to worry about making the spell too strong; that's good news for you. A stronger spell would be all the more painful." The witch tossed the book to the side and grabbed another.

Painful? Dynamene gulped. "What do you mean by 'painful?'"

"We're going to do a mild transformation spell for you. Nothing too over-the-top, but spells like that always hurt a bit. I assure you, the end result will be well worth it. Poseidon is somewhat more susceptible to the influence of magic than the rest of his ilk because he thinks it's beneath him. Thus, he's never bothered to work on his resistance to it. You'll just need something strong enough to push him over that edge and get him to realize that he just absolutely needs you at his side."

"Will that really happen?" Dynamene asked, breathless at the thought.

"Oh, yes." The witch turned back to her, her face filled with a wicked leer. "He already cares for you. This will be just the shove he needs to make it official. Such a lucky girl."

Dynamene exhaled deeply. It's finally going to happen... We'll be together.

The witch cackled at the look on her face. "Oh, isn't it grand? You'll be happy, and he'll be happy... Dreams really do come true, don't they?" She threw her current book back down just like the first. "I've got it; the perfect spell. Let's begin." She waved her hand, and the candles lining the cavern immediately dimmed. "Come, this way."

Further into the cave was a larger room. At the center of it, partially sunk into the rocky ground, was a vast cauldron, many times the size of a bathtub. Dynamene peered into it cautiously; there was seemingly no bottom to it, only a vast blackness that stared back at her forebodingly. Swallowing, she backed away and returned her gaze to the witch.

The witch rolled back her sleeves deftly and cleared her throat. With a swift wave of both arms, the cauldron slowly gurgled to life. The dim candles brightened once more, but their flames had turned blue. The witch grabbed one from a nearby candelabra and threw it with force into the simmering cauldron. There was a muffled boom from within its depths, and the water began to shimmer an eye-wateringly intense blue. Sparks began to jump from the surface of the water, and Dynamene's eyes grew wide at the sight. The witch turned away and swept over to a nearby shelf, grabbing several tall glass vials before halting.

"Oh, that's right! Before we go too far..." The witch turned to look at Dynamene over her shoulder. "Ah, yes; a deal has to go both ways."

Dynamene twisted her hands, steeling herself. She had been dreading this moment, but there was no turning back now. "What kind of deal?"

The witch slipped closer, backlit by the eerie cerulean light. "Nothing you can't pay. That is, nothing you don't already have..."

Dynamene stared into the cauldron, blue sparks illuminating her face in a ghostly hue. The tear trails that remained on her face were sapphire beads in the light. If this was the only way, so be it. She was far too close now to give up.

"Then... Anything you want. It's yours," she told the witch, her voice shaking. "As long as... As long as it's nothing-"

The witch's smile broadened. "I'm not asking for much. You'll never notice it's gone, I promise you. Say, something..." She rose a fist. "This big."

"Anything," Dynamene whispered. The flames flooded out any other reflection in her eyes. The roaring cauldron filled her ears with its torrent, and with her senses distracted and heart despairing, there was nothing she wouldn't have agreed to. "It's yours."

The witch laughed madly. "Then we have a deal. Oh, your happiness is in reach now. Can't you feel it?" She snapped her fingers, and a sudden, strange lightness came over Dynamene. But she was still alive; still breathing erratically, and still staring into the burning flames. She flexed her fingers gently, wondering only superficially what the witch might have taken. "Now, you will soon take your fate into your hands. You'll be a new woman. No man alive will be able to resist you; least of all that inexperienced tyrant." The witch nearly bent double with laughter, wheezing with delight.

Without further ado, she shrieked out an unfamiliar word. All around them, the cabinets and cases flung their doors open in a unified crash. The witch rushed about the room, sweeping seemingly random ingredients into her clutches and flinging them without a glance. Bottle after bottle smashed into the cauldron, and Dynamene recoiled away from the shards of glass and burning hot sparks. The contents of the bottles hissed into oblivion in the burning waters, billowing out a thick smoke.

"Mandrake, rue, Gorgon scales, pearls!" The witch chanted madly as she snatched more ingredients. "Rosemary, harpy feather, siren hair!" The flames roared, reaching for Dynamene with raging lashes.

"Don't shrink away now!" The woman laughed at the fright on Dynamene's face. "This is what you came for! Embrace it, breathe it in!" She threw her arms high up into the air, commanding the inferno in a tongue unfamiliar to Dynamene.

Dynamene backed away from the cauldron a few feet, readying herself. Her hungry eyes filled with the dancing fire. The hypnotic flames were his eyes, the smoke his reaching hands, searing into her core until she was nothing but blue smoke, reaching back. You'll finally want me.

You'll be mine.

"Don't hesitate! Don't blink!" The witch threw more herbs into the flames, until they reached higher than Dynamene. "This is what you want! Take it!" Her voice rose to a screech. "Don't you want him to be yours?! Go, now!"

And without another breath, Dynamene took a running start and dove headfirst into the flames.

—

Author’s Notes: At the end of this chapter, all I was thinking was BlUe this and bLuE that. Can you tell? lol

#record of ragnarok #poseidon #shuumatsu no valkyrie #poseidon x oc #shuumatsu no walkure #fanfiction

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thanksforthedinosaur · 4 years ago

Text

international year of plant health

hi. i made a playlist of a snapshot of the stuff i’ve listened to this year if you’re looking for some recommendations! xoxo mae

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0VkfnggwpC1TEj2wsaHyZr?si=4JJd6Z-kRoCHuHypRtWK3g

1. little simz - might bang, might not 2. jean deaux - recipe! 3. logic - open mic\\aquarius iii 4. spittzwell - the lesson 5. ivy sole - kismet 6. vel the wonder - fine art 7. megan thee stallion - shots fired 8. kari faux - look at that 9. rico nasty - own it 10. flo milli - beef flomix 11. kodie shane - 2 many 12. kali uchis - ¡aquí yo mando! 13. tkay maidza - shook 14. bree runway - atm 15. yung baby tate - i am 16. almondmilkhunni - grapefruit 17. princess nokia - soul food y adobo 18. bosco - attention 19. kiana ledé - movin. 20. diamond white - secondhand 21. queen naija - i’m her 22. danileigh - mistreated 23. parisalexa - 2 optimistic 24. qveen herby - farewell 25. jhené aiko - p*$$y fairy (otw) 26. chloe x halle - forgive me 27. kehlani - water 28. umi - pretty girl hi! 29. rimon - i shine, u shine 30. disclosure - birthday 31. phora - cupid's curse 32. roy ayers - synchronize vibration 33. thundercat - unrequited love 34. thelonious coltrane - perfect timing 35. [ k s r ] - passion 36. alina baraz - more than enough 37. alayna - glowing 38. savannah cristina - self love 39. paloma ford - rain 40. nakala - she interlude ii 41. orion sun - lightning 42. jaz karis - hold you 43. cleo sol - when i'm in your arms 44. keiyaa - do yourself a favor 45. alicia keys - me x 7 46. yazmin lacey - morning matters 47. be steadwell - succulent 48. daniela andrade - k.l.f.g. 49. yung lean - dogboy 50. bladee - sun 51. blackwinterwells - algae 52. sullii - moonlight 53. misogi - heart chained 54. aminé - talk 55. tobi lou - lingo starr: drunken master 56. busta rhymes - look over your shoulder 57. 2 chainz - southside hov 58. atmosphere - the future is disgusting 59. meltycanon - moody blues 60. alfred. - sheeshfred 61. love-sadkid - ephemeral 62. jay squared - vision like you! 63. tuamie - you needed time you said 64. oatmello - blue 65. wun two - a noite 66. kuranes - calm 67. omaure - drama 68. dust and moonlight - sleeping or sinking 69. phlocalyst - image 70. ocha - r33 71. sugi.wa - love u 72. palm - memories of winter 73. goosetaf - tripwire 74. bryzone_ybp - the count 75. orancha - smoky banana 76. evil needle - midnight 77. eevee - romance 78. chief. - can't explain 79. ngyn - aerith 80. fujitsu - move on 81. meitei - nami 82. swum - breezy 83. chris mazuera - perspective 84. jinsang - maybe 85. tesk - cascades 86. saib - nautica 87. mf eistee - uprising 88. kaskade - when you’re dreaming 89. tatsuya maruyama - love you - lo-fi remix 90. towerz - before i gave in 91. baechulgi - abyss 92. underbelly - glitchwater 93. notsure - icecoffee 94. yutaka hirasaka - arise 95. akisai - ecossaise 96. nom tunes - missing piece 97. sweet dove - on the viewless wings 98. park bird - new place, same people 99. city girl - ji-eun's favorite 100. katie dey - loving 101. mary lattimore - sometimes he's in my dreams 102. teen daze - peaceful groove 103. pacific coliseum - turquoise 104. tycho - outer sunset 105. [.que] - glimmer 106. lights & motion - separated hearts 107. roger eno - celeste 108. talsounds - opening 109. alva noto - xerrox voyage 110. 36 - stasis sounds for long-distance space travel (stage 2) 111. stan forebee - bedscape 112. daniel avery - illusion of time 113. arbee - 2sum - charlie dreaming remix 114. okada takuro - waterfront (up-01) 115. gabriel ólafs - lóa - bing & ruth rework 116. warmth - the creek - mixed 117. rhucle - rev 118. com truise - surf 119. sarah davachi - still lives 120. gastón arévalo - sur les traces des explorateurs 121. peter bark - ascension 122. kara-lis coverdale - flutter 123. totally enormous extinct dinosaurs - brockley 124. green-house - peperomia seedling 125. four tet - green 126. morimoto naoki - aru 127. kaitlyn aurelia smith - remembering 128. dj python - te conocí 129. ocoeur - glow 130. christina vantzou - snow white 131. alonefold - strange rainbows 132. savoir adore - dancing temples 133. tengger - water 134. suzanne ciani - a sonic womb pt. 3 135. mogwai - major treat 136. this will destroy you - entrance 137. sleepmakeswaves - time wants a skeleton 138. elsa hewitt - rebird 139. ulla - i think my tears have become good 140. aether - she isn't here 141. zoe polanski - the last frontier 142. lyra pramuk - witness 143. ana roxanne - a study in vastness 144. julianna barwick - nod 145. the leaf library - about minerals 146. gia margaret - barely there 147. lucy gooch - my lights kiss your thoughts every moment 148. briana marela - forgiveness 149. loma - homing 150. mree - open arms 151. ellis - saturn return 152. alexia avina - fit into 153. fenne lily - to be a woman pt. 1 154. noble oak - evaporate 155. mint julep - blinded 156. rush week - best laid plans 157. mini trees - slip away 158. winter - bem no fundo 159. yumi zouma - cool for a second 160. laura veirs - burn too bright 161. terry vs. tori - keepsake box 162. castlebeat - shoulder 163. candace - still phase 164. tiny deaths - if i'm dreaming 165. lydia - heavy 166. caspian - nostalgist 167. nova one - lovable 168. corey flood - heaven or 169. hazel english - off my mind 170. bantug - dizzy 171. tops - colder & closer 172. the hidden shelf - miracles 173. ruru - 99 174. widowspeak - even true love 175. cheerleader - providence 176. wild nothing - blue wings 177. deradoorian - corsican shores 178. strfkr - second hand 179. mint field - contingencia 180. ringo deathstarr - god help the one's you love 181. no joy - dream rats 182. white poppy - orchid child 183. keeps - swiggum 184. flung - firstly zested 185. the bilinda butchers - rie 186. sipper - kid 187. radiator hospital - imposter syndrome 188. addy - equinox 189. boyo - dogma 190. alexandra savior - the archer 191. phoebe bridgers - chinese satellite 192. soccer mommy - circle the drain 193. routine - numb enough 194. quarter-life crisis - comfortable 195. madeline kenney - sucker 196. layne - linnea 197. wilsen - align 198. pynkie - you 199. bandanna - ghost home 200. waxahatchee - can’t do much 201. crisman - portrait 202. liza anne - i wanna be there 203. purr - gates of cool 204. honey cutt - hung up on me 205. the beths - out of sight 206. the ophelias - grand canyon 207. sjowgren - flip phones 208. haim - gasoline 209. thanya iyer - i forget to drink water (balance) 210. sad13 - good grief 211. porridge radio - give/take 212. lannds - not in a good way 213. katie von schleicher - wheel 214. hey cowboy! - detective farmer brown 215. tombo crush - pink 216. eliza moon - tell me / why'd you 217. anna mcclellan - raisin 218. this is the kit - this is what you did 219. snarls - walk in the woods 220. blushh - deal with it 221. long neck - cicada 222. chloe moriondo - ghost adventure spirit orb 223. momma - biohazard 224. varsity - runaway 225. land of talk - footnotes 226. bully - stuck in your head 227. diet cig - stare into the sun 228. expert timing - gravity 229. slow pulp - track 230. maddie jay - shakes 231. beabadoobee - together 232. luna aura - crash dive 233. sorry - perfect 234. torres - good grief 235. partner - honey 236. beauty queen - this time around 237. maggie lindemann - knife under my pillow 238. bryde - paper cups 239. mundy's bay - sleep away the summer 240. squirrel flower - red shoulder 241. mourn - stay there 242. dream wife - so when you gonna... 243. illuminati hotties - superiority complex (big noise) 244. l.a. witch - true believers 245. hinds - burn 246. beach bunny - cuffing season 247. suzie true - idk u 248. bacchae - hammer 249. peach kelli pop - stupid girl 250. oceanator - heartbeat 251. pins - read my lips 252. best coast - different light 253. muncie girls - take steps 254. kailee morgue - this is why i'm hot 255. beach slang - let it ride 256. silverstein - take what you give 257. new found glory - scarier than jason voorhees at a campfire 258. the lawrence arms - quiet storm 259. mikey erg - bon voyage 260. pet symmetry - had a name, don't remember it 261. thank you, i'm sorry - backpack life 262. ratboys - alien with a sleep mask on 263. joyce manor - leather jacket 264. jeff rosenstock - scram! 265. the aquabats! - aliens and monsters! 266. the used - the lighthouse 267. hidden hospitals - how amazing 268. dikembe - all got sick 269. time spent driving - trust no 1 270. the casket lottery - more blood 271. record setter - someplace 272. emma ruth rundle - out of existence 273. gulfer - blurry 274. options - don't mind 275. i love your lifestyle - stupid 276. orchards - stealing your sleep 277. no tongues for quiet people - lake house lake house 278. into it. over it. - hollow halos 279. mountains for clouds - full disclosure 280. joan of arc - destiny revision 281. no thank you - saturn return 282. the front bottoms - camouflage 283. ride your bike - make like a tom and cruise 284. dragon inn 3 - yer brothers 285. the goalie’s anxiety at the penalty kick - jars filled with rain 286. mansions - laser beams 287. waveform* - hello goodbye 288. owen - headphoned 289. cassino - tacoma 290. ajj - normalization blues 291. penelope scott - sweet hibiscus tea 292. angel olsen - (new love) cassette 293. trace mountains - fallin' rain 294. johanna warren - part of it 295. frances quinlan - lean 296. tomberlin - hours 297. samia - triptych 298. field medic - better way 299. adrianne lenker - my angel 300. jack m. senff - another day 301. lomelda - polyurethane 302. rosie carney - high and dry 303. brigid mae power - i had to keep my circle small 304. overcoats - new shoes 305. anna burch - not so bad 306. hop along, queen ansleis - the cactus 307. mandy moore - easy target 308. laura marling - held down 309. lisa loeb - doesn't it feel good 310. trixie mattel - gold 311. lilly hiatt - move 312. molly tuttle - sunflower, vol. 6 313. sarah jarosz - pay it no mind 314. katie heckel - help you mend 315. katie pruitt - my mind’s a ship (that’s going down) 316. in love with a ghost - trans rights 317. snail's house - imaginary express 318. isuka hino - dreamin' adventure!! 319. 4s4ki - nexus 320. lapix - loneliness 321. you - painter 322. aice room - dreary planet - yukiyanagi remix 323. zekk - oxygen 324. lu-i - loved happiness 325. synthion - volt switch 326. sanaas - polestar - junk remix 327. mameyudoufu - fluffy 328. awfuless - redemption 329. rejection - around you 330. toriena - getting into a pose 331. cosmo@bousoup - mow*mow*abduction!!! 332. yunosuke - ziqqurat 333. android52 - lovin', scratchin' 334. サクラsakura-lee - nobody else 335. desired - emotions 336. mikazuki bigwave - sakimashita bloomin'!! 337. skule toyama - smooth 338. adrianwave - goodbye 339. macross 82-99 - melt 340. cape coral - 707 hotline 341. 80kidz - heat 342. night tempo - baby 343. yaffle - lng, before 344. greyl - let me be with you 345. serph - palmtop tiger 346. happy kuru kuru - natsu no hi no labyrinth 347. couple n - earmie 348. airuei - magic sign 349. somunia - non player girl - nyankobrq 2p ver. 350. cosmicosmo - those that we once loved 351. maeshima soshi - the terminal 352. kijibato - 1room 353. yuc'e - ghost town 354. neko hacker - erased 355. jam2go - apotrope 356. mizuki ohkawa - cosmic cleft 357. singto conley - flora 358. 2tonedisco - shoelaces 359. cy8er - もしもしじゃぽん 360. nayuta - connect 361. t+pazolite - himitsu cult 362. milkoi - higher, higher, and then... 363. freezer - caramel rain (sanaas remix) 364. kotonohouse - pitter, patter 365. aika - superstar 366. yukiyanagi - love overdose 367. nanahira - twinkle password 368. ducky - hyper bloxxd 369. porter robinson - something comforting 370. moshimo - シンクロ 371. bish - スーパーヒーローミュージック 372. scenarioart - it's all right 373. base ball bear - ポラリス(c3 mix) 374. majiko - エスカルゴ 375. akaiko-en - ジャンキー 376. the peggies - weekend 377. lovely summer chan - more light 378. polkadot stingray - sp813 379. shishamo - フェイバリットボーイ 380. aimer - run riot 381. österreich - i'll take you everywhere 382. sora tob sakana - 夜間飛行 383. the shes gone - ふためぼれ 384. aimyon - marshmallow 385. cö shu nie - supercell 386. kensei ogata - violin case 387. せだい - yellownola 388. yonige - あかるいみらい 389. bearwear - i think 390. hitsujibungaku - ロックスター 391. cidergirl - 飛行船 392. room97 - faq 393. she's - ugly 394. bbhf - tokenai mahou 395. alisa takigawa - 夢 396. satomoka - glints 397. radwimps - shinsekai 398. pinoko - コリドー街 399. helsinki lambda club - you are my gravity 400. lucky kilimanjaro - 君とつづく 401. dish// - sauna song 402. zombie-chang - snooze 403. mizuki ohira - 無重力 404. みゆな - 歌おうよ 405. iri - come back to my city 406. aya a.k.a panda - i miss u 407. chelmico - disco (bad dance doesn't matter) 408. seiko oomori - 絶対彼女 409. yaeji - my imagination 상상 410. daoko - zukizuki 411. eill - night d 412. cifika - déjà vu 413. yeye - step in time 414. saevom - just like i dreamed then 415. cheeze - today's mood 416. stella jang - reality blue 417. younha - one day of twenty 418. jeong eun ji - whoo 419. fromm - aliens 420. crush - tip toe 421. heize - 1/1440 422. femm - level up 423. awich - poison 424. jessi - nunu nana 425. (g)i-dle - luv u 426. summer soul - tinder 427. taeyeon - worry free love 428. boa - l.o.v.e 429. fromis_9 - feel good (secret code) 430. faky - re:chase me 431. monsta x - night view 432. twice - up no more 433. loona - hide & seek 434. wjsn - pantomime 435. iz*one - fiesta 436. exid - ddd jpn ver. 437. gfriend - crème brûlée 438. april - lalalilala 439. weki meki - 100 facts (cool eng. ver.) 440. momoland - starry night 441. steve aoki - play it cool 442. bts - dynamite 443. sakurako ohara - shine on me 444. sumin - zaza♡ 445. onepixcel - lagrima 446. little glee monster - i feel the light 447. celeina ann - purikura 448. アイラヴミー - そのまんま勇者 449. okkyung lee - here we are (once again) 450. luca - lune 451. hakushi hasegawa - hikari no rock 452. haruka nakamura - your sonnet 453. itoko toma - shade 454. rina katahira - hoshizora* 455. ichiko aoba - easter lily 456. satoko shibata - 変な島 457. 角銅真実 - 6月の窓 458. 熊川みゆ - sixteen 459. 眉村ちあき - 緑のハイヒール 460. 竹内アンナ - striking gold 461. saucy dog - film 462. kaede - -ending- night blue 463. aseul - paradise 464. 박혜진 park hye jin - like this 465. charlotte is mine - road movie 466. plastic plastic - ฮัม - (hum) 467. clams - shiny rider 468. seventeen years old and berlin wall - no paradise 469. nuit - nightbirds 470. fulusu - ghost 471. rammells - sennengo 472. stargaze shelter - emulation (mode:totonee) 473. ヨルシカ - 昼鳶 474. nakamuraemi - 大人の言うことを聞け 475. kenshi yonezu - ひまわり 476. tk from ling tosite sigure - reframe 477. penguinrush - 色彩 478. lee jin ah - candy pianist 479. mei ehara - どちらにピントを 480. jizue - because 481. mouse on the keys - room 482. fox capture plan - stand my heroes - groove version 483. ryutist - girls 484. yeti let you notice - bouquet 485. tricot - 真っ黒 486. madison cunningham - giraffe 487. covet - atreyu 488. floral - maybe not one day 489. envy - eternal memories and reincarnation 490. baths - mikaela corridor 491. sufjan stevens - run away with me 492. fractures - feel 493. the 1975 - frail state of mind 494. dan mason ダン·メイソン - everytime i cry 495. brothertiger - cannonball 496. porches - rangerover - bonus track 497. tame impala - instant destiny 498. washed out - paralyzed 499. pink skies - portland 500. so below - bone 501. purity ring - silkspun 502. llll - breathless 503. slow magic - somewhere 504. kasbo - lune 505. cloudnone - let the music in 506. jody wisternoff - blue space 507. drama - hold on 508. satin jackets - meridian getaway 509. direct - opal 510. lane 8 - road 511. baile - jlm 512. yuni wa - starships 513. nora van elken - sakura 514. geotheory - the day i left you 515. yota - hazy paradise 516. spencer brown - chance on us 517. the avener - conscious shadows 518. kalbells - mothertime 519. bella boo - in love 520. kirara magic - neon 521. mija - digressions 522. cuushe - emergence 523. transviolet - rituals 524. keep shelly in athens - steady to go 525. young ejecta - ah ha 526. annie - in heaven 527. lany - good guys 528. dominic pierce - glad xoxo 529. tender - what you're missing 530. alice jemima - binge love you 531. kitty - baby pink 532. faye meana - like honey 533. lunadira - am i gonna die? 534. loony - white lie 535. justine skye - fav 536. wafia - good things 537. victoria monét - jaguar 538. malia civetz - love thing 539. keiynan lonsdale - i confess my love 540. deaton chris anthony - tuethday 541. kallitechnis - body&soul (ish d remix) 542. talitha. - ineedsomeone 543. keke palmer - thick 544. kesha - birthday suit 545. l.e.j - pas l'time 546. selena gomez - rare 547. the aces - daydream 548. jessie ware - mirage (don’t stop) 549. joan - try again 550. melanie c - blame it on me 551. astrid s - dance dance dance 552. little mix - holiday 553. justin bieber - yummy 554. ariana grande - positions 555. bea miller - feel something different 556. lady gaga - rain on me (with ariana grande) 557. raye - regardless 558. the weeknd - hardest to love 559. andrea valle - lovergirl 560. k/da - the baddest 561. allie x - susie save your love 562. terror jr - dinner plate 563. shawn wasabi - halo halo 564. benee - snail 565. sevdaliza - oh my god 566. gupi - modest 567. six impala - sweetsweetsweetlikebubblegum 568. charli xcx - i finally understand 569. golin - hanakotoba 570. shygirl - freak 571. madge - ethanol 572. arca - afterwards 573. kelly lee owens - re-wild 574. ari mason - pangaea 575. gabrielle aplin - dear happy 576. taylor swift - the 1 577. awfultune - buds 578. sneaks - scorpio on your side 579. izzy camina - kill your local indie softboy 580. mxmtoon - ok on your own 581. wens - giant bat 582. billie eilish - my future 583. tash - when you leave 584. fletcher - the one 585. silver sphere - ghosts! 586. tei shi - ok crazy 587. dounia - sucked all the fun 588. tatiana hazel - carmen sandiego 589. magdalena bay - killshot 590. kllo - insomnia 591. leisure suite - closer 592. morgan saint - i dreamt that i knew you 593. ayelle - got love 594. michi - escondida 595. lyrica anderson - lyfted 596. sasha sloan - lie 597. niki - plot twist 598. sarah reeves - heart first 599. salt cathedral - caviar 600. chelsea cutler - sad tonight 601. rituals of mine - heights 602. e^st - flight path 603. sara diamond - great together 604. phem - stfu 605. carlie hanson - daze inn 606. lauren aquilina - latest ghost 607. caroline rose - command z 608. misterwives - oxygen 609. ella vos - turbulence 610. austra - i am not waiting 611. triathalon - you 612. phoebe ryan - icimy 613. katzù oso - kiss u better 614. luwten - control 615. raveena - heartbeat 616. oohyo - 2020 617. oklou - another night 618. jouska - bring you back 619. fleur east - easy to love 620. soft glas - overbite 621. jaden - muted sunrise 622. snny - better to leave it 623. saint mela - alkaseltzer 624. mia gladstone - ego 625. helena deland - truth nugget 626. oh wonder - oceansize 627. steven padin - sashimi 628. kacey johansing - i try 629. treasureseason - spinning plate 630. landshapes - drama 631. tennis - matrimony ii 632. pomplamoose - morning waterbug 633. soko - being sad is not a crime 634. the big moon - barcelona 635. shamir - diet 636. knox fortune - static 637. carly rae jepsen - let's sort the whole thing out 638. real estate - the main thing 639. hayley williams - roses/lotus/violet/iris 640. nada surf - something i should do 641. bombay bicycle club - is it real 642. the seshen - faster than before 643. thao & the get down stay down - how could i 644. marla hansen - path 645. christine and the queens - la vita nuova 646. half waif - siren 647. malena zavala - ritmo de vida 648. bendik - himmelen 649. hanna järver - kalmar slott 650. frida sundemo - anything 651. kate nv - telefon 652. ambar lucid - questioning my mind 653. coco reilly - mirror 654. ghostly kisses - lydian 655. kacy hill - told me 656. lianne la havas - can't fight 657. donna missal - how does it feel 658. felivand - gone 659. jordana - divine 660. empress of - void 661. banoffee - ripe 662. vanessa carlton - i can't stay the same 663. fiona apple - heavy balloon 664. poppy - concrete 665. rina sawayama - stfu!

#mae makes playlists

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deadlymodern · 5 years ago

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Random Tag Game

Last chatty post of the day, I promise. Thank you so much for the tag, lads @oblivions-dawn @persimmontrees x

1. Do you make your bed?

Nope, only when someone comes over. I'm not even ashamed of it.

2. what’s your favorite number?

I don't have one, so I'll just say 7.

3. What’s your job?

I am a video editor c:

4. If you could go back to school, would you?

Not in a couple of years, at least. But, sure! I want to get my masters and maybe major in something else like Graphic Design or History.

5. Can you parallel park?

I don't drive.

6. A job you had that would surprise people?

I used to be an actress. Would give anything to go back to the stage.

7. Do you think aliens a real?

For sure. Maybe not the americanized green fella with black eyes, but I'd be gullible to believe that we are the only living planet in the entire ever-expanding universe. Who knows?

8. Can you drive a manual car?

I don’t drive, damn it! ;-;

9. What’s your guilty pleasure?

1990s and 2000s chick flicks.

10. Tattoos?

Only 6 at the moment. Ask me again when I'm 30 and covered head to toe.

11. Favourite color?

At the moment, warm yellow c:

12. Favourite type of music?

Probably Indie or Folk.

13. Do you like puzzles?

I mean, I can appreciate them and I think some are extremely beautiful. But I have zero patience to sit down and actually put one together.

14. Favourite childhood sport?

Football, basketball and swimming. And capoeira. Gosh, I don't know. I was a badass goalkeeper, though.

15. Do you talk to yourself?

Oh my god, yes. I love having conversations with great people fjdkjgk. Jokes aside, yes, I usually brainstorm with myself or console myself when I'm extremely sad. It's very therapeutic.

16. What movies do you adore?

Nowadays, my favourites are Parasite, Midsommar, Mean Girls (always on my top list) and Moonlight. Also, I adore LaLaLand so much and Brother Bear is my favourite from childhood.

17. Coffee or tea?

Tea, 100%

18. First thing you wanted to be growing up?

I've always wanted to be an actress or a singer. And, gosh, I still do. But I'm terrified of fame (not that I would be famous, just throwing it out there lmao)

I'm tagging @finnchios @applesaucesims @sims-and-pixels @timeless-simmin and @captainmrbored. But if you lads don't feel like it, you know the drill ~

#thaistalks #game; tag #nonsims

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melow232 · 29 days ago

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Wiege (Alnst × 14 Days With You)

I have finally finished it 🙇🏽‍♀️ sorry for those people who's been waiting

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lokisasylum · 5 years ago

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Map of the Soul: 7 Album - First listen review

[I won’t bother reviewing the ones from PERSONA that were added, since I already did a post for Persona when it came out. Only the new songs]

#1. Interlude: SHADOW

WOW.... just when you thought the first version hit hard/differently. The extended version comes in to choke-slam you against the wall.

#2. Black Swan

Our new Royal to take a spot in the throne of power along with Blood Sweat & Tears, Spring Day, Fake Love, and Outro: TEAR.

Do we even need to add more additional to what we’ve been saying since its release? As an artist, the lyrics still pull at my heart strings the same way they did the first time I heard it. Especially the verse that says:

‘If this can no longer resonate No longer make my heart vibrate Then like this may be how I die my first death But what if that moment’s right now Right now .’

This verse can be applied to ANY time we loose faith in ourselves or have to give up on a dream/passion and how that separation slowly kills us inside.

#3. Filter (Jimin’s solo)

....Not gonna lie, this song gives me TRUST ISSUES just because its Jimin LOL!

‘Cause I remember seeing & hearing Serendipity for the first time and it was such a lovely melody and the lyrics were so soothing like a lullaby expressing Love in its purest form.

But then you see the choreo and it all went Magic Mike SO FAST X”D.

Because on one hand the lyrics (at first glance) can be interpreted as Jimin seeing himself through Army’s eyes. How WE see his “Duality” - cute/adorable/lovely one minute and then sensual/tantalizing the next.

That boring expression of yours, boring feet Please look at me now Put down your phone, don’t even think about turning your head Let me know your type You can choose and use me yeah

Oh I cover your eyes with my hand Oh go towards the secret I’ll take you to a brand new world Yeah open your closed eyes now go!

Mix the colors of the palette, pick your filter Which me do you want? The one who’s going to change your world, I’m your filter Cover it over your heart

(Ok) How is it, do you feel it a bit? Is it still not enough? (Yes) Girl you have your chance I can be your Genie How ’bout Aladdin? I’ll become anything [for you] You can choose and use me yeah

That first part really does sound like how he would accommodating his “Persona” to make us happy. And every-time something he does isn’t enough he changes again.

Of course this doesn’t have to mean what he’s doing in the present, “Filter” could be just like “Lie” which spoke of his past-self and how he used to blame himself for the group’s failures. So maybe he’s expressing how’s he’s had to change himself throughout the years to please the fans as long as they understood and accepted who HE REALLY IS beyond the Idol persona.

Or y’know, this is just a very sexy number he wanted to try and shy away from his comfort zone XD. And I’ll bet all my money that the choreo’s gonna be SEXY AF and WE AIN’T READY FOR IT.

P.S. that moment when the music stops and he goes: “OKAY.” WITH HIS SEXY DEEP AF VOICE, JESUS!!!!

#4. My Time (Jungkook’s solo)

Kook’s solo not only reminded me heavily of “Begin”, but it also sounds like what “Decalcomania” should’ve been if he had released the full version.

He’s seeing himself not as an Idol, but not quite as Jeon Jeongguk either.

Like he’s just standing in the middle watching his two selves, his two Personas and trying to find which one is his. Which reality he is living in--or should be living in. Which part of his life belongs to his “normal/non Idol self” and which one is part of the mask/Idol self he puts up for the fans.

And yes, you know, yes. you know Oh I can’t call ya, I can’t touch ya Oh I can’t Let me know Can I someday find my time? Finna find my time Someday finna find my time

This verse sounds like he’s still experiencing that loneliness that all artists experience during stardom very often (Note on how in Shadow Yoongi is the one who says: “Nobody ever told me how lonely it is up here.” ). Like how he sometimes wishes he could tell someone, but can’t?

#5. Louder than bombs

All rise for our National Anthem!

If Shadow hit hard while choke slamming you. Then this song is the overkill.

The vocals are insane, and the lyrics mixed with the music tell one story through two points of view. Actor in the spotlight and Actor as a Spectator.

This is BTS telling us how people view them and having to keep their emotions in check in the face of criticism from general audience and even antis, versus how they truly feel inside and behind close doors.

Break, unwind, let it out, breathe out, stand up, pray for better days and keep moving.

#6. ON

THIS👏SONG👏FUCKING👏SLAPS👏PERIOD👏!

The energy, the rap line, the vocal line, the CRAZY FOOTWORK AND INSANE CHOREO.

THE JIKOOK NIP-SLIPS

THE BODY ROLLS

THE TATTOOS---

THE SUBTLE “GO FUCK YOURSELF!”

I LOVED IT and it gave me such a strong throwback to NOT TODAY.

#7. UGH!

This is CYPHER_pt3 Killer, CYPHER pt. 4, TEAR & DDAENG’s lovechild.

This song is the Rap Line going like: “THESE MOTHERFUCKERS WANTED TO TRY ME (AGAIN) AND IMMA GIVE THESE BITCHES A CYPHER.

BITCHES LOVE CYPHERS.”

#8. 00.00 (Zero o’ Clock)

When I saw that we were having another Vocal Line unit song the first thing I kept praying for was: “PLEASE don’t let this be another Truth Untold...”

Because I absolutely HATED the hypocrisy that came out of this fandom ESPECIALLY the toxic Solo Stans who did nothing but hype up their faves while shitting on other members (I will never forgive those who went so far as to defame and even act as if Jimin wasn’t part of the Vocal Line, ya’ll are still trash for that).

But I gotta say Zero o’ Clock was totally something I can see them enjoying while performing. Despite, of course, the song talking about hardships and finding a new way to be happy throughout the tough times even when you don’t feel like smiling.

I liked it, the vibes are a bit like “2,3″ and “Magic Shop”. A song for HEALING.

#9. Friends (VMIN sub-unit)

VMIN

SOULMATES FOREVER.

I also LOVED that they added the voice messages Jimin & Tae used to leave each other since their recording schedules were different and they didn’t see each other. That was such a nice touch. T_T

That little “Hello my Alien” .... that made me emotional. I kept imagining those mischievous kids running around playing pranks on the other members, like that one time they made Hobi fall off the chair and got chased by him XD ...*SOBS*

#10. Inner Child (Taehyung’s solo)

All the time I kept listening to this song I kept imagining Taehyung sitting in a park next to his Younger Self, like the way a father sits with their youngest son and talks to them about life. What to expect, what will change and how to go about these changes.

Really heartfelt song.

#11. Moon (Jin’s solo)

Just like Tae’s song, “Moon” makes me thinking of all those moments when Jin kept doing his “Heart Event” where he kept pulling out hearts out of nowhere. Each time more clever than the first, just to show ARMY how much he loves us.

I wonder all of a sudden, do you really know yourself? Do you know how pretty you are? I will orbit you I will stay by your side I will become your light All for you

This part in particular makes me think of Jin up on stage staring at a stadium full of bright little stars that are in reality Army Bombs.

#12. Respect (Namgi Unit-song)

Fave verse from this song is:

“Re-spect”, it’s literally looking again and again Looking again and again and you’ll see faults But despite of that you still want to look

And the fact that you have two members of different ages (Hyung/Donsaeng), in a sort of conversation that goes back and forth between what the real meaning of “RESPECT” is and how people throw the word around, even those who speak ill of others behind their backs.

And were they talking in Satoori in the end??? That was nice XD

#13. We are Bulletproof: the Eternal

Throw stones at me We don’t fear anymore We are we are together bulletproof (Yeah we have you have you) Even if winter comes again Even if I’m blocked off, I will still walk We are we are forever bulletproof (Yeah we got to heaven)

#14. Outro: EGO (Jhope’s Solo)

EGO is Jhope and Jhope is EGO in all it’s glory.

Like “Just Dance” i like the contrast how in EGO he’s doing a back-track to his younger self, how he used to dance to prove something TO OTHERS, where as now that he’s older he just accepts that everything that happened is just part of life. So he’s a happier now doing what he loves BECAUSE he loves to dance.

#15. ON (feat. Sia)

....WHY?

Like... I don’t wanna be THAT BITCH and drag nobody, but like... was this really necessary?

I mean atleast Nicki Minage and Halsey had their own parts that they owned like the bad bitches that they are.

But like...

Yeah, Imma stop right here.

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southern-belle-outcasts · 5 years ago

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[unusual HCs; for Rogue, Nilza & Padmé] 45, 49, 50

@rpwithjayn

45. what’s their dream job / profession? do they have one?

Rogue- motorcycle mechanic. It’s canon. She doesn’t have her powers at one point and goes on to be a good motorcycle. I built on that, and my Rogue is very much a car and motorcycle girl, courtesy of having absorbed Logan. So she’s very good under the hood. She likes having something that she can focus on and occupy her hands, see results in front of her face, and be productive. My Rogue does not end up staying with the x-men as she ages and gains control. She’s not interested in spreading some ‘mutants are a superior evolution’ agenda anymore, especially given that she’s never seen her mutation as that, ever after learning control. Also, depending on verse, she doesn’t want to have to rely on partner to fully provide for them if they’re not x-men faculty.

Nilza- her ambitions for anything beyond staying alive were shot down somewhere between 13 and 14 when she started to truly accept her life wasn’t going to ever not involve hunting. She’s even accepting of the fact she’s probably going to die early, thus the reckless behavior. She does enjoy ending monsters, she wants no parts of others’ lives being ruined by them, and she doesn’t dislike exotic dancing. Nilza’s a very sexually open, flirty person (at least on the surface- disguise, obviously), despite being exceptionally picky about her male partners if they were to ever even happen. She’s already fit from training for hunting, it’s not difficult to transfer over the body control to dancing.

Padmé- she’s already living her dream job as a senator. She wanted to make a difference in the galaxy from a very early age, and has been, already had this convo with @mynameisanakin here, have this laugh again, a being-tarian (because how the fuck else do you label it when there’s aliens. Please. Someone give me the actual word, otherwise I’m sticking with that monstrosity and there’s not much you can do about it). The only “not so dream job” part of it is who was going to predict the separatists and the war as she was beginning her political career as a child. So yeah, fully started that off with a bang. I’ll see myself to the door.

49. do they have a creative outlet? if so, what is it?

Rogue- she knows how to knit. It gives her something to do with her hands while watching a movie or listening to an audio book. She will sing sometimes but not a lot.

Nilza- dancing is her go to. She choreographs her own dance routines for both stage and pole. Anything else, she pretty much doesn’t see the point. She used to sing, and well, but it’s not something she’s prone to doing frequently. Definitely not intentionally in front of someone, she mistakenly thinks her voice is ruined from screaming and smoking.

Padmé- she paints, but she did it more so as a child. As an adult her free time is so very minimal, and she rarely wants to focus on that in what time she does end up with.

50. where do they see themselves in 2 / 5 / 10 years?

Rogue- she doesn’t really much know what to see in the future. She really tries not to look at the future when she can’t really do all that much in the way of anything beyond the x-men without power. So she doesn’t see anything beyond being with the x-men to at least some degree. If it’s her in control verse, then she sees herself leaving the x-men within two years, by five years hopefully with a partner and starting a family. Ten years is just really far out for someone who spent their entire latter teen years and early twenties telling herself there was no future to look forward to.

Nilza- she expects to possibly die the next day if she fucks up during a hunt. She doesn’t look towards the future beyond her next hunt location, and where she can dance in relation to that.

Padmé- Maybe the war has ended? Maybe it hasn’t? She would hope that it ends sooner than later, but she doesn’t see it as realistic to expect it to have ended any time soon given how fucking pigheaded and selfish the majority of the senate is. And since it’s ending is unknown, there’s no point in making plans or looking to a future beyond hoping there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and then finding a way to put recovery and relief plans into action.

#;headcanon #;the belle #;the latina #;the senator #rpwithjayn #;little asks are made of gunpowder and lead

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heilewelt · 5 years ago

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2020 started. Here are a few things I look forward to

Let’s focus on the positive. Nathaniel Rateliff has released a new song today! The title track to his upcoming album “And It’s Still Alright” which will be released on the 14th of February. I can’t wait. It sound more like the “old” Nathaniel, less funk, more Americana and Folk which leaves more room for the gloomy emotions. In this song Nathaniel is dealing with the loss of his best friend and producers Richard Swift without being utterly sad. There is hope left.

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Another highly emotional thing I look forward to is listening to Caspian’s new album “On Circles” for the first time on the 24th of January. Full range of emotions. I love emotions. I love Caspian. I don’t quite know what to expect but since the first release “Flowers of Light” has an joyous element to it, it won’t too sad.

Hellas Filmbox (15.- 19. January) is the only film festival I attend regularly. It’s the Greek film festival in Berlin. Always wild, out of the ordinary and lots of food for thought. This years motto is “Feminine, sunny & blue”. Feminine like the whole festival including movies and the team behind the scenes, blue like the Greek ocean and sunny like the Greek sun which is also represented in this years poster. The opening movie “Winona” by The Boy combines all these things, except a woman named Winona but therefore some women hanging around the beach. I don’t know more yet. I look forward to it although I still quite haven’t understood the last film I saw from The Boy. Oh, and he will also play some songs live during the opening on the 14th of January. Apart from that I always, always recommend to surprise yourself. Watch some shorts.

AmericanaFest UK is my first music festival of the year. It will take place in Hackney, London, from the 28th-29th of January and an award show on the 30th. I love this festival because it not only shows the many different sides of Americana and Folk music but it takes places in many little venues, all in walking distance. During the day you can take part in the conference or just the showcase festival. I’ll get more into detail what to see in a couple of days.

And now for some tours I look forward to:

Sunset Sons – yep, I still love this band. And they’re finally coming back to Berlin….and other European countries. It will be fun and I hope they play “Alien” live, so I can sing along at the top of my lungs.

15.01. Amsterdam 16.01. Paris 18.01. Zürich 20.01. Stuttgart 21.01. Köln 22.01. Berlin

Jo Quail is one of a kind. When you see her for the first time, I promise you won’t look at a cello in the same way after she played. I remember how fascinated I was by the soundscapes she creates with her electric cello and some loops. So much experimental joy. I’m happy to see her again after many years of waiting.

19.04. Köln, Helios 37

20.04. Hamburg, Nochtwache

21.04. Berlin, Musik & Frieden

02.05. München, Feierwerk

Ok, the gig of The Slow Show in Berlin is sold out, like half of the dates of their stripped down tour and I just can’t wait. I still have to wait until March but it’ll be worth the wait. If you have the chance to travel to one of their gigs, do so. Trust me.

Last but not least is the Tour of Tours – a collective of musicians who bring you nothing but joy and laughter and love when they are together on stage, celebrating friendship. I still get goosebumps when I hear their “Song of Songs”. Every cell in my body is vibrating for excitement, my hands want to clap in rhythm. My grin gets bigger and bigger with every word – and that just happens when I watch the official live video on youtube! Just imagine how it’s when they playing live!

05.02. Essen, Zeche Carl

06.02. Köln, Gebäude 9

07.02. Osnabrück, Kleine Freiheit

08.02. Erfurt, FRANZ MEHLHOSE

09.02. Frankfurt, Brotfabrik

11.02. München, Muffatwerk Ampere

12.02. Hamburg, Uebel und Gefährlich

13.02. Berlin, Lido

14.02. Langenberg KGB - Kultur.Güter.Bahnhof

15.02. Hannover, Indiego Glocksee

OK, one more. Lilabungalow are back. Never completely away but they have new songs and a new show. Sort of. It’s their music, animation and whatnot in the Theater Erfurt. It’s called “Blindland//Lichten”. I don’t quite know but I love it when bands are using a different path than usual one. Unfortunately I can’t attend despite I’d love to. It’s 17th/18th of January. However, I just hope from the deepest part of my heart that they’ll repeat this performance either in Berlin or at least later this year again. I’m willing to travel for this.

I’m glad I wrote this little outlook. It’s a good reminder, I was already going down the wrong lane. But yes, 2020 will be a good music year.

Have a good week,

Dörte

P.S. Have you checked out Reuben And The Dark x AG’s new track “Hold Your Head High”, yet? It was released just yesterday. My hymn.

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#nathaniel rateliff #2020 #caspian #sunset sons #the slow show #lilabungalow #tour of tours #jo quail #hellas filmbox #americanafest uk

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eurosong · 6 years ago

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My ESC 2019 ranking

Hey there, folks - after a lot of deliberation, I’ve decided upon my ranking of this year’s songs. I feel quite passionately about this year’s field, as always, and make some trenchant remarks, but a lot of them are tongue in cheek, and no shade is intended on those who like the songs I don’t or vice versa. Here’s my ranking with my thoughts on why I put each song where I did.

41. Croatia – The Dream I try to find a redeeming quality in every song, but sometimes the task proves impossible. This ironically-named nightmare of a track sounds like a poorly-produced early 00s track that tried to straddle the line between classic and futuristic and failed at both. The usual things that I hear in its defence are that Roko has a good voice, and that the Croatian segment is better. To the first point, maybe, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that the voice doesn’t shine through the scream mode of most of the song; to the latter point, if you know some BCS, you’ll know that the Croatian language bit is as cloyingly cliché as the English part. Some people are saying that this could be a surprise qualifier. If that happens, I will shed tears of blood.

40. France – Roi If France don’t change their national final system to equalise the jury and televote more after this year, I don’t know when they will. Destination Eurovision had a bunch of good songs, but thanks to the power of a Youtuber’s fanbase, one of the least remarkable and most cloying songs got the nod instead. Roi is an unabashed hymn to self with the most criminal franglais abominations (rhyming beaucoup with boo, really?) to which I’ve ever been subjected. Now it’s supposedly got a chance of winning thanks to a gimmicky staging, which I feel uses people as props. I wouldn’t even mind the antipathetic performer and cringey, self-centred lyrics so much if the tune were interested, but it’s equally empty and pompous.

39. San Marino – Say na na na Well, this song certainly does get me saying nah, nah, nah. I do not get the amount of good will for it, as I neither find it a good track, nor enjoyable ironically like Who we are or Chain of lights were. It’s a “party track”, but the party in question is the kind I want to flee where the food is bad, the music is obnoxious and overbearing and the ambiance is that of an uncomfortable throwback. Bewildering how this is considered a worthy qualifier.

38. Moldova – Stay I swear Eurovision has songs like this just to be able to detect extra-terrestrials, because if anyone says this song is their favourite, and they’re neither Moldovan nor Romanian, then it confirms to me that they are aliens because this is banality writ large. Three minutes of contradictory and cliché rhymes (“it’s now or never, it’s forever”. Ok then mate), dull music, little progression, an oddly unpleasant vocal and even a staging that comes second-hand.

37. Finland – Look away My impulse is to look away from this song indeed – a dated slice of repetitive, oddly downbeat despite being uptempo EDM slathered with a simultaneously overwrought and undercooked social message and brought to us by an uncomfortable duo who look like two acquaintances whose fishing trip got interrupted abruptly and they had to cook up a Eurovision song last minute. There is nothing about this I like at all.

36. Israel – Home The one faintly interesting thing about this song is the remarkable wailing in its first few seconds, but they removed even that. This has to be one of the most maudlin songs I have ever heard, delivered gratingly. A friend of mine nicknamed Kobi the “Joystealer”, and the name is very apt. I feel like all the joy in the world is out of reach when listening to this lament, which is syrupy and bitter at the same time, like a coarse cough medicine. The “I am someone” has to be one of the most cloying lines of the entire year, too.

35. Estonia – Storm Estonia having to resort to sending a croaky renta-Swede to sing a budget Avicii b-side in front of a Windows XP screensaver with lyrics that imaginatively rhyme “this” with, well, “this” is like seeing someone who had always dressed elegantly having to resort to sporting torn, worn, ill-fitting hand-me-downs that were already out of fashion when bought first hand. This land of song and art can and should be doing so much better.

34. Montenegro – Heaven The fact this ironically infernal song is not just not bottom but also almost avoided my bottom 10 just goes to show how deep the bottom is this year. Sounds like Podgorica’s 56th best sixth form choir got some cassette tapes of bad late 90s R&B-lite, got a donation of a dodgy Casio keyboard and, at the last minute, got their granddad to do a bit of fiddling, mixed it all together and the result was this chaötic hot mess on ice. It’s a shame, because these kids seem genuinely nice, and they don’t deserve to be lumbered with the albatross around their neck of this song and the resultant cast iron “last in the semi” result it will achieve.

33. Switzerland – She got me There’s little separating the female attempt at a duego and the male one for me. Luca radiates a smug energy that annoys me more, but the song is a smidgen less generic, but then using the same dancers as from Fuego made the decision easier. I’m not sure what she got him, but it certainly wasn’t a grammar book, as the song is filled with bizarrely affected ungrammatical English, because I guess it’s uncool to properly conjugate.

32. Cyprus – Replay It seems almost self-parodising that Cyprus lamely returned to try to catch lightning in the same jar with a song that is entitled, and feels like, a giant replay. Fuego was an encapsulation of many things I really don’t like at Eurovision – a lyrically empty song with limited musical merit or memorability that got a lot further than it would off the basis, mostly, of staging. This year, the staging is worse and the performer is less charismatic. If it does as well, I will be astounded.

31. Norway – Spirit in the sky What if Aqua came back – perish the thought – and, for their comeback single, took a rejected b-side from the late 90s of theirs in their typical bubblegum style, but injected it with a dreadful attempt at joik and an aesthetic inspired by their newfound animal spirits? It would sound something like this bizarre Norwegian song, whose victory over En livredd mann still bewilders me. It’s a bit infectious, but so are many diseases, and part of the reason that it buries itself into your mind is because of its pretty flagrant lifting of last year’s “Monsters”’ chorus, which in itself was all too familiar. One of the year’s biggest cringefests for me.

30. Lithuania – Run with the lions Take a guy most noted until now for screeching in the world’s worst falsetto whilst pretending not to sing, while a drag act that barely qualified as a baroness let alone a queen wás pretending to sing, also badly. Give him a song that advocates running alongside large carnivores who’d probably find humans an attractive snack. That combination should at least be interesting, but it’s one of the dullest propositions of the year. The only real interesting thing is that dodgy falsetto making a reappearance. It’s pleasant enough but forgotten instantly.

29. Russia – Scream Russia confined themselves to a few fruitless years in the desert with the Samojlova charade, and now they look to return to ESC superpower status by bringing back the guy who won them the public vote back in 2016. Their logic in trying to go one step further, though, was rather flawed. Concentrating on winning over the juries, they took for granted that the public was going to enjoy this rather melodramatic effort as much as they did You are the only one. I doubt they will, and I doubt the jury will be much swayed from last time. Musically, its orchestral touches represent a step up from YATOO for me, but it is let down by the emo lyrics and some bombastic staging.

28. Belarus – Like it When I first heard this song, where “you gonna like it” is repeated approximately 14 thousand times, my first impression was “no, I certainly am not going to.” It’s a bizarre stream of non-sequiturs dolled up with a technicolour assault to the eyes. I’ve softened to it somewhat, in part because of a reimagining of the lyrics as being a call for help after getting drafted into Eurovision by Lukaszenka, but I’ll still be stunned if it qualifies.

27. United Kingdom – Bigger than us I had a Freudian slip a few days ago when writing the “Undo my ESC” post – I wrote “Bigger than us” as “Better than us”. A fair swathe of the year’s field very much is more remarkable than this anodyne X factor winner’s single which seems to be aiming for 19th rather than first. Michael is a likeable character, but unfortunately that doesn’t come across too much in his live performance, most notable for him flapping around his arms as though they were on fire.

26. Iceland – Hatrið mun sigra Musically, there are elements of this that are really up my street. Decent throwbacks are rare, but the 80s’ techno ambience of the track is pretty good. I just wish it were not accompanied with a disdainful hauteur and the OTT attitude of a bunch of sophomore arts students who’ve just discovered irony. The last thing the world needs now is more hate, ironic or not.

25. Sweden – Too late for love Sweden made one step in the right direction this year – they’ve sent a man rather than an overgrown embryo, and someone with a bit more humility than Grosso last year. It’s a much better song for me than the past two attempts, but that’s not saying much – manufactured gospel has little soul, and there’s a charisma chasm here only partially filled by drafting in American mammas to sell the song as something more than what it is.

24. Poland – Pali się This is one that I wish I liked more. It’s middle of the pack for me. I like the fact that there are clear heritage influences but find the song itself to be rather too linear and the voices too shrill – and I am a fan of white voice.

23. Macedonia – Proud I had high hopes for Macedonia as I adored their artist, Tamara’s, imperious Brod što tone back in Skopjefest 2014 – a song that frankly got robbed of representing Macedonia. Where BST was subtle and poëtic in its message, Proud, which I regret wasn’t in Macedonian also, is rather too much on the nose for me and sounds a little like a charity single. This is augmented by the rather basic video which reminded me a little too much of Bebe’s “Ella.” Nonetheless, it’s a nice composition and well sung.

22. Spain – La venda Spain this year had a selection that they called “eurotemazos”. It’s difficult to translate, but Eurobangers, smashes or hits all carry a shade of the meaning. As soon as I heard that, I knew it was an ill omen, and indeed, the list of songs was full of bad attempts at bops and a few soporific ballads-by-computer. La venda was the best of a bad lot. Miki has energy but the song is completely inconsequential.

21. Germany – Sister Germany have once again invited disaster by inviting Chaosmeisterin, Barbara “Wild Eyes” Schönberger back to compère the national final. The end result was this inexperienced wildcard (when will you ever learn, Germany?) clinching the win with two gals who’d never met before this year singing about sisterhood in a group called S!sters with their song Sister. This is hotly tipped for last place in the final, but I feel it has sóme merit. The verses, and especially the bridge, are lovely, and seem to be building to something great – until we get a really generic, squawked chorus where the two non-sisters try to outshriek one another.

20. Australia – Zero gravity I’ll never get over the fact that we could have had something truly Australian in all senses of the word for once, and instead we got this. It’s catchy but repetitive and rather gimmicky, and I lament that it will qualify over better songs thanks to a rather cringey staging gimmick.

19. Belgium – Wake up This truly is a musical coitus interruptus. The moody verses get you in the mood, building a sense of urgency and direction, only for everything to get abandoned without warning with a very dreary, incongruous chorus. “City Lights” this ain’t, and it’s a shame, as it’s still decent, but could have been so much more satisfying.

18. Czechia – Friend of a friend Some countries take decades to find their niche at the contest. It seems like Czechia has found theirs in the space of a year and a bit, and found a particularly narrow niche. Field a cutesy lad with a retro-inspired, somewhat catchy but also somewhat problematic song inspired by infidelity. Last year’s “Lie to me” was written from the perspective of the cheated; this year’s, from a potential cheater who spends half the song listening with his girlfriend to his neighbours having noisy sex and the other half protesting he barely knows the female neighbour anymore. Truly weird.

17. Denmark – Love is forever This song reminds me of one time I was by the seaside and got offered to try a freakshake. It was one of the most OTT sweetest things I’ve ever had in my life. I enjoyed it, but it’s something I could only enjoy on an annual basis. This song is much the same. It’s bringing the Gallic cuteness where France failed, and the fact Leonora looks into your soul unnervingly whilst singing just adds more interest to the song for me.

16. Azerbaijan – Truth Azerbaijan bring a halfway decent song for the 2nd time so far, by my count. This is nowhere as near as good as “Skeletons”, but still strong. I like the atypical lyrical matter and the fact that the Symphonix crew created something contemporary but wearing Azeri traditional influences on its sleeve. The unplugged version of this is even better.

15. Netherlands – Arcade Perhaps I would enjoy this more were it not for the intense amount of hype, the hubristic arrogance of many people in thinking the win is already in the bag, and the amount of condescending barbs flung my way on other corners of the net for not considering this some transcendental masterpiece that deserves to win more than any other song. It’s not in the same league as the oft-compared, timeless Amar pelos dois for me. It’s a nice, heartfelt song – albeit one that relies too much on a head voice that I find rather unappealing – and it has a few clever turns of phrase, but I will never understand why this one has been singled out when there are several songs I consider more moving in this final.

14. Georgia – Sul tsin iare This song has really grown on me. It has an incredible, almost scary intensity and was written on an epic, orchestral scale. It feels like the music to the climax of a war film. I felt what it meant before I understood the Georgian. I particularly love the chorus backing Oto and the staging that matches the song’s drama.

13. Hungary – Az én apam I expected a lot of things from a Joci Papai return, and this song only delivers some of them, but it’s a song worthy of enjoying in its own right. If Origo was fire and had an undercurrent of hurt, Az én apam is water, but is warm in its own right. It’s a nostalgic song with the same poetry I expected of Joci.

12. Latvia – That night Latvia’s song has been criticised for not being very impactful, and it isn’t, but therein lies its charm. It’s a low-key, saudadic effort that beautifully occupies three minutes. It is the kind of track I imagine listening to whilst, and which makes me imagine as a result, driving down a long, lonely road at night in the rain. It’s hushed, it’s delicate, and it sounds to me like petrichor smells.

11. Greece – Better love Greece is sending something very atypical from them, almost as an allergic reaction to doing so badly with the more ostensibly ethnic “Oneiro mou” last year. I’d be disappointed, but this is really quite good indeed, a very professional and rounded effort that has produced a soaring, anthemic song. Katerine’s voice has a beautiful, dark and deep huskiness that imbues a certain quality too. My only problem with this song are the careless lyrics that seem like a compilation of Instagram clichés.

10. Ireland – 22 My dear Ireland sneaks into my top 10 for the first time in a few years thanks to a full-on earworm of a song that has become one of my most played tracks this year. This song is very simple, but sometimes unassuming simplicity is elegant. It’s got a retro, blue-eyed soul feel and is at once nostalgic and catchy. It deserved a lot better than the slot of death to which Björkman consigned it.

09. Malta – Chameleon Malta getting into my top 10 for the first time since 2014, with a song that is even more contrary to our expectations of Maltese songs than “Tomorrow” was. This song is aptly named, as it is an explosion of colour – not just in the clever video, but also, the music itself is so vibrant and fun. The only part I don’t like is the rather cliché bridge, because both the drop-based chorus, the slow build of the verses and the exuberant post-chorus are really good. GIVE ME X I’M A Y is one of the lyrical memes of the year and is infectious. From beige to a rainbow; well done, Malta.

08. Slovenia – Sebi Slovenia are on the money for the second year in a row. Whilst “Hvala ne” was an in your face, high-octane buzz of a song, this year, we’ve gone in the completely opposite direction: a very contemplative, intimate song that imbues a sense of peace and harmony. What they do have in common is some of the best lyrics of the year. In Sebi’s case, the text is graceful in its effortless simplicity and minimalism. It feels like the only thing that matters during those 3 minutes for the song’s performers are each other, which creates a particular atmosphere indeed.

07. Albania – Ktheju tokës When I heard the venerable Festival i këngës, Albania’s selection process, was essentially going to revamp itself, I was worried that it would lose its magic, but in the end, I needn’t have so much. For the second year running, the best song by far won – a song full of dramatic potential. Thank heavens they left the song in the wonderful mellifluous Albanian language and did not dig out the song’s heart with a needless revamp. I hope Shqipëria can keep this trend and momentum up. Ktheju tokës is a heartrending song about immigration and divided families, inspired by true experience, and performed with power and style by the enigmatic Jonida.

06. Armenia – Walking out Another country for whom I have a lot of time at the contest is Armenia, who always tend to bring something different to the show. I was initially a bit confused by their effort this year because of its abrupt stops between different parts of the song which at first sounded rather jarring. Now, this, and the great variation in tone and style between the verses, the gentle bridge and the ferocious choruses are part of what make the song for me. Srbuk has charisma and a fierce set of pipes. All these elements have made Walking out one of the major earworms of the year for me.

05. Austria – Limits The first time I heard this, I was underwhelmed. It’s a nice song, but it is lacking a bit in instant impact. Nonetheless, something about it demanded repeated listens; with each one, my appreciation for this confessional, Kate Bush-inspired slice of heartrending emotion grew exponentially. I am hoping that the live performance will give it the instancy it needs to bring to life how exceptionally good a song this is. It’s up there with the very best in terms of the lyrics. It’s so personal, so intimate, so searing and one of the most underrated tracks of the year. 04. Serbia – Kruna Pretty much everyone who knows my ESC predilections knows I am a huge fan of Serbia. They generally stick with their own language, and bring songs that highlight their rich musical traditions. My support isn’t categorical – I despised “Beauty never lies” and felt let down by last year’s style pastiche, though I felt Balkanika were wonderful contestants – so this year, I was relieved to see them back at the height of their powers with an unassumingly lovely ballad, performed with power and purpose by the mesmerising Nevena. It’s a song of few words, and it feels like every single one was weighed out carefully to pack the most meaning. Delightful.

03. Romania – On a Sunday One of the biggest surprises of the season for me has been Romania. I had no interest in their national selection, and was nonplussed when this won, albeit grateful that it beat two truly dreadful frontrunners. My first impression was that it was an odd but catchy song, and that it was weird and a little funny how the grown woman singing it seemed to throw a tantrum in the middle of the performance. Something about it made me listen again, and again, and again – and then the amazingly theatrical and imaginative video came out, which added to my appreciation even more. It’s a really emotional song, which somehow invigorates rather than saddens me, perhaps because of the bewitching power of Ester’s performance. She delivers this with an unbelievable intensity and has such a singular voice. I fear for its chances because it’s not the most accessible song – but I really hope this will at least qualify.

02. Portugal – Telemóveis I remember my first reäction to this well. I was confused and a little perturbed – it seemed like the rantings of a madman over highly dissonant, if rather bewitching, music. It stuck in my head, though, and very soon, the confusion grew into appreciation and then full on love for probably the most singular, sui generis offering of the entire year. This is a song that sounds timeless but futuristic; that could not have been composed by any other country, but which blends influence of fado with sounds from the subcontinent, the near and far east and what seem to be other planets. The text – all too often dismissed as “lol he’s singing about cellphones, how random lmao” – is a deep, introspective, metaphorical look at mortality that is gushing with saudade. The fact that this, the most forward-thinking proposal of 2019, might not even qualify is scandalous; it should be in it to win it.

01. Italy – Soldi As much as I adore Telemóveis, there’s a song that I love even more. The first time I saw Soldi performed live, it was like a punch to the gut in the best possible way. This song about a deadbeat dad and how money can tear a family apart is just one example of how Italy is brimming with exceptional lyricists. I’d translate some of my favourite lyrics, but firstly, I find every line to be powerfully moving, and secondly, the English can’t quite do justice to the perfectly measured rhythm and cadence of the original as well as the emotion. On top of that, musically, it’s one of the freshest tracks of the year, with super modern production but symphonic touches. Who thinks of making a trap-inspired song, but with an orchestra? Italy, that is who, and I so, so hope they finish this barnstormer of a decade for them with a much awaited win.

#eurovision #esc #esc 2019 #eurovision song contest #opinion #eurovision 2019

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