#ditto sweater

[sinsangria]

[migrated-special-agent-snom]

cc o)_)__\ Fun fact there are at least 20 snoms including myself

[bobbyditto77]

AAAAAAAA (shawn in a rainbow ❤️ sweater)

[neil-gaiman]

good morning mr neil! a few users here have recalled a good omens talk you and terry attended around 2004-ish wherein you discussed one of your favorite things about the book was that it brought so many skinny goth gaiman fans and round nerdy pratchett fans together, and sir terry is delightfully quoted as saying that the couples "looked like lots of number 10s walking down the street together". Absolutely incredible and adorable image - I know many 1 and 0 couples myself haha! Do you recall this/have anything to add to the story?

Terry took an enormous delight in Good Omens signings because he loved that my fans (skinny, dressed in black, tattooed before that was common or with interesting hair colours ditto, "wearing their underwear on the outside" whatever that meant) and his (normally older, actually employed in real jobs, often wearing sweaters, sometimes carrying sweaters they had knitted themselves which they then presented to Terry along with a jar of homemade blackberry jam) stood in the same lines to get their books signed, and met and sometimes even married.

I don't remember the 10 comment but it sounds perfectly Terry.

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 SANTA DOESN’T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO idol ahn yujin x idol reader

❆warnings: yn is apart of new jeans, yn is a dork, wrote this while listening to santa doesn’t know you like I do by sabrina carpenter

this has got to be the fifth time yujin has bawled her eyes out all day. going through a big break up during the holiday season isn’t the ideal thing

the girl blew her nose into her tissue before she buried her face into her pillow, she’s about to start crying again until a soft voice interrupts her session of wallowing in self pity.

“yujin unnie?”

she knew exactly who’s voice it was.

to ahn yujin, yn was a nightmare, having one of your younger members best friends have a crush on you, isn’t the ideal thing for most people.

and it definitely isn’t the ideal thing for yujin.

new jeans is the new big thing, the six girls are completely untouchable with the success that they’ve been gaining since debut, so imagine the ive members reactions when rei brought one of the members to the dorm introducing the girl as her best friend.

yn was one of the most known members of the group, she was known for her charisma and talents and extroverted personality that has a way of wrapping everyone around her small finger

she also has the biggest crush on the leader of ive and the bane of yujin’s existence.

she just couldn’t stop taking her shots at the older girl, even when she was in a relationship, she’d say things like “hey unnie, when are gonna dump that chick?”, “rei told me that she was late again, couldn’t be me..”, “did you know I wrote super shy and attention about you? what songs has she written about you again?”

yujin groans and covers her face with her hands, “what?”

the door opens to reveal the younger girl with an adorable smile on her face, she had a white fuzzy beret on her head with a matching fuzzy white sweater and leg warmers, along with a hello kitty shaped polaroid around her neck.

“did you know it’s snowing outside?” yn asks as she walks into the room and closes the door behind her causing yujin to groan again.

“no.”

“oh, well it is.” she says before sitting beside yujin on her bed, “I heard about the break up…”

“yeah…” the older girl replies, “you’re probably happy about it.” she says before taking a peek at the younger girl only to see that she had genuine pity on her face.

“well… I can’t say I didn’t crack a smile when rei told me…” she says causing yujin to let out a laugh, “you’re the worst oh my-”

“but!” yn shouts over yujin waving her hands, “I am really sorry, I knew how much you liked her, even though she was hot trash.”

“gee, thanks yn.”yujin sniffs rubbing her nose. “she wasn’t that bad…” she adds making it yn’s turn to groan.

“oh come on!” the girl yells, throwing her head back, “she was the absolute worst, remember when she said ditto wasn’t even good when my members and I literally put our heart and souls into that comeback?”

“she also treated you horribly and you know that, I mean just look at the way she just left you.” yn says firmly causing yujin to nod her head defeatedly, “ I just know for sure that I could treat you better.”

“here we go again.” yujin says rolling her eyes, every time…

“no! I’m serious, she didn’t and never grew to know you like I do.” yn says grabbing yujin’s hand, “I know all your favourite songs… and even though I say the most stupid shit I definitely know how to make you laugh.” the younger girl adds causing yujin to let out a small laugh.

“see! when was the last time she genuinely made you laugh?”

“I don’t know…” yujin trails off and before she knows it, the tears are starting back up again, “gosh, I’m so stupid.”

yn immediately panics and pulls yujin closer to her, “no, you’re not! you’re the smartest, you’re hard working, dedicated and so talented and prettiest person I know, that asshole was just to stupid to see it.”

yujin looks deep into yn’s eyes and feels her face heat up slightly at the compliment, this is the first time the younger girls words have actually affected her and for some reason that makes her eyes water again.

“oh, how I wish I would kiss your tears away.” yn says before slapping her hand over mouth in shock, “there’s no way I just said that.”

yujin laughs again and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, “maybe you can do that after the fifth date.”

“yeah…” yn trails of her face heated with embarrassment, “wait- what did you just say.”

“you heard me.”

“holy shit…” the younger girl says to herself, “wait does that mean there’s chance that you might go out with me after you’re healed from your relationship and stuff?”

“maybe” yujin shrugs.

“oh my gosh.” she says getting up from yujin’s bed, “oh my-! I gotta go tell rei!” she says before rushing out of yujin’s room.

yujin laughs at the younger girls antics but is shock when yn runs back into the room and places a kiss on the older girls cheek before running back out the room.

[aeriaeri]

→ cg!jaehyun winning a plushie for you at the arcade ıllı my first work on here! hope u enjoyy :3

you stand close behind jaehyun, watching him closely as he slips another quarter into the claw machine's coin slot. he takes a deep, exaggerated breath before locking his eyes on the ditto plushie, twisting and turning the knob like his life depended on it. finally, after nearly breaking a sweat, he presses the glowing blue button on his right and the claw goes down. you rise on your tippy toes, gripping his sweater as the anticipation really sets in. the claw gets closer. . and closer. . until it finally makes contact with the prize you've had your eyes on since you got to the arcade. you cheer as jaehyun acquires the ditto from the machine, smiling goofily. "said i'd get it for you, didn't i?" he says, feeling his ego inflate to twice its size as you hug him tight, repeating "thank you!" over and over again.

[esmedelacroix]

Coffee Shop Love Pt.4

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, fluffmania, implied age gap, suggestive, forced proximity

author's note: Hi lovies, :( this part is coming to you very late >.< ! The semester is ending soon and I'm an academic weapon so I've been writing papers and studying, here's the fourth chapter for y'all :) ! I suggest you read this chapter while listening to "Strangers In The Night" by Frank Sinatra on repeat it sets the perfect tone for this chapter, enjoy...

word count: 1.6k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

You both looked down at your phones in disbelief. Your thoughts raced like a thousand wild stallions, galloping through your mind at breakneck speed What do we do? Will he have to stay over? How will he react when I tell him I have one bed? He couldn't fit on the couch to save his life. You thought to yourself trying to figure out what could be done.

"So a whole day here?" Miguel asked as the shock slowly dissipated from his face.

"Yeah, well I better lock up and turn the heaters on," you said as you got up the locked the doors.

"So uh, I live upstairs," you said awkwardly.

"Okay, I live several blocks down," He joked eliciting a chuckle from you as laughter danced lightly upon Miguel's chest.

"You know what I mean, I'm inviting you into my apartment," you said pointing at the stairs as a flush crept onto your cheeks.

"I'm just pulling your leg chula," he chuckled. You both walked up the stairs to your apartment. A melange of peppermint, gingerbread, and vanilla, like Santa's North Pole workshop in an aromatic form.

The fireplace crackled merrily, festive blankets were strewn across the couch, and a tray of gingerbread cookies patiently awaited their turn in the oven. Your apartment was the epitome of Holiday cheer and warmth. The exact opposite of Miguel's place. Which was currently dark cold and empty. Not a trace of color other than the black and dark blue that his interior designer had insisted on. But was the point of a home that didn't feel like anyone was living in it? Your house was all color. Your house had memories scattered over the wall just like in the shop. Your house had lights all around, messy blankets and pillows, dishes in the sink, and baked goods sprinkled all over the dining table.

"So sorry it's a little messy," you murmured timidly.

"That's fine, it's nice," he mumbled.

You both looked at each other awkwardly before turning away. "So, I only have one bed, and there's no way you're fitting on the couch so, I could take the couch," you thought aloud.

"Well I'm not going to make you sleep on your couch," he said.

"I'm fine with sharing the bed, as long as you don't make it weird," you said.

"Well you just made it weird by thinking that I was gonna make it weird," he quipped.

"Well, well, ditto," you rebutted.

"Ditto? Double ditto," he chuckled.

"Double double ditto times a million trillion gazillion," you giggled.

You both burst into a fit of laughter. You both agreed to take turns in the shower. You lent him your brother's old clothes that he had left the last time he visited. That was how Miguel ended up sitting on your couch with a generic pair of black and red plaid pj pants. With the ugliest ugly sweater on. You plopped down next to him, straight out of the shower.

Your hair smelled like fresh candy canes. He could smell it every time it would whip around when you cracked your neck. Your skin smelled faintly like sweet gingerbread and vallina. You had an interesting selection of Christmas-themed self-care. What's the use of 'sugar cookie' lip balm? I kind of want to taste it..., ew Miguel, he thought to himself.

"So since you have to spend all night and a whole day with me, you have to understand why I love Christmas so much. We're going to watch only the best holiday movie series ever, 'A Christmas Prince,'" you said excitedly as you got up and got some holiday treats and put them on the coffee table.

"This better not be some sappy romance," he groaned.

"Oh hunny, it's all the sap, all drama, and all stupidity and miscommunication. But that's what makes them so good," you explained.

Although Miguel was sure he would hate the movie, he was more invested in it than you were. Every time you would try to talk he would shush you, "I need to see what happens next," he would whisper as he strangled you squish mellow from anticipation.

You started messing with him by talking during the movie which got him so frustrated he threw a pillow at your face playfully. But you had taken this as a declaration of battle and started a pillow fight. It was full-on warfare and giggles all around. You could tell Miguel was holding back all of his strength because he could probably actually hurt you.

You pounced on Miguel, knocking him backward onto the couch. Pillows flew in the air around you as you both tumbled, your laughter turning into shared, breathless excitement.

You found yourself on top of him, faces inches apart, heartbeats racing. Your warm breaths hit each other's face, and you both lay there, staring into each other's eyes.

Miguel's playful smile slowly softened into something deeper, something more intimate. His eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, the world outside the room ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, lost in that brief moment of connection.

Your breath caught as the intensity of the moment enveloped you. You felt a magnetic pull towards Miguel, an unspoken attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. The air between you crackled with unspoken words, and as your eyes locked, they shared a moment of understanding, a silent promise of what could be.

But just as quickly as it had come, the moment was broken by the sound of the timer on the oven going off, signifying to the two of you that the gingerbread was ready. The laughter returned, but now it held an extra layer of tension, a newfound awareness of the connection you had just shared.

You both get up, brush yourselves off, and head to the kitchen to take the baked goods out. "Why bake more when you have a million variants of baked goods everywhere?" Miguel inquired as he helped you put the slabs of gingerbread into your fridge to cool.

"I have to test and create the entire seasonal menu before I serve it," you explain.

"That sounds tiring..." he starts.

"No! It's actually really fun! Here try this red velvet cake," she said excitedly. Miguel was waiting for another opportunity to have your baking without having to outright ask you for some, and you knew that.

He took a bite and to no one's surprise, he loved it. But he wouldn't tell you that and tried not to let it show either. The rest of the night went on without a hitch until you were both exhausted. You took a look at the clock, [2:23 am]. Your eyelids felt heavier, and you could see Miguel start to blink for a little too long while trying to watch the third Christmas Prince movie. You used all the energy left in your body to get up. "C'mon big guy, we should get to bed," you said tapping his shoulder. All you got from him was a small smirk and picked up a pillow and whipped it at his face.

"You nasty!" you started before stopping and stomping into your room. Miguel followed you into your room chuckling lowly.

The moon cast a soft glow through the bedroom window, painting the room in muted silver hues as you and Miguel settled into bed. There was an unspoken tension between you two, a tangible distance that lingered in the cool air. The bed, once a refuge for dreams, now seemed an expanse to navigate cautiously. As the night unfolded, lost in the realm of dreams, you began to shiver subtly. Miguel noticed your discomfort, remembering you telling him that you were always cold.

With hesitancy, he inched closer, the space between you shrinking with each careful movement. The distance that had felt overwhelming moments ago now seemed trivial, as if the gravitational pull of shared warmth was irresistible. Miguel's arms encircled your body, a gentle cradle against the night's chill. His body heat became a lifeline, a silent promise to ward off the cold. Nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck, he couldn't help but marvel at the vulnerability of sleep and the unspoken connection that drew them closer.

You, amid a dream, sighed with the blissful surrender of someone finding solace. As Miguel held you close, your shivers ceased, replaced by a quiet tranquility. The once-distinct boundary between them dissolved into the shared warmth of the moment. In the hushed stillness, you emitted a soft, contented snore, a sound that resonated with an endearing charm. Miguel couldn't help but smile, finding the delicate symphony of her sleep both heartwarming and irresistibly cute.

Cuddling in bed wasn’t a part of the plan but you weren’t complaining. Your sweet scent invaded Miguel's senses. You smelled just as good as the cookies you had baked. Your skin was as soft as the velvety stockings you had hanging over your fireplace. He could stay like this forever. He never made wishes but he hoped and prayed that Medusa would come to him and turn him to stone so that he would never be able to let you go. He let fatigue carry him to dreamland, your snores acting as a fleeting melody in the silent serenade of the night.

Next... Pt.5

taglist:

@iite-cool@jewelz-teehe@br0-please@amber-content@thesilenthill@d1lf-loverrr@corpsebridenightamare@laysmt@bitchystrawberrystudent

[etherealyoonghwa]

Monsta X Recommendations

I.M

feel better @moonhoures

He Calls You Clingy @blu-joons

‘til death do we part, changkyun @mxnrly

Babe @kimbapuhkidding

chasing love - two @peachoony

“Why can’t I ever get enough of you ?” @crabsxdragons

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” @milfgyuu

Time for a Change @kwanisms

Jealousy @kwanisms

Give it a Chance @kwanisms

Close your eyes and hold out your hands @bebecue

Wrong Number @prettywordsyouleft

Affectionately Attached @jae-bummer

“You’re still here and I already miss you” @crabsxdragons

DATING IM CHANGKYUN @taexual

Minhyuk

Ditto @svtcarat-exo-l

Shownu

a blackout @shownusgfayoooo

Hyungwon

Angel @eternalmx

Unknown Number @heartau

Fuck Away The Pain @seunguwoos

[10:49 p.m] @bearseokie

Friends Don’t Do That @welovekpopscenarios

Kihyun

I Only Hate You A Little- Part 4 @little-chimchim

Cruel Lips @little-chimchim

Borrowed @little-chimchim

Jooheon

Dating Jooheon would include @ultkpp-blog

Ot6/7

When He Carries An Item Specifically For You @blu-joons

When You Feel Lonely @blu-joons

When He Gets Jealous Of Another Guy @blu-joons

.

When you confess your feelings to them @narika-a

Them crying in their s/o’s arms after a hard day @narika-a

.

Monsta X as the guy who hits on you in a bookstore @thesnowinthemountains

You wearing their shirt/sweater as pajamas @sugarjaee

Asking to call you baby girl @cho-ji-eun

First Time: Kissing @fymoanstax

Zoey Masterlist @k-llama-llama

Zoey Masterlist P.2 @k-llama-llama

"when I get home you better be on the bed waiting for me" @kpurereactions

Thigh riding @taexual

[silantryoo]

BONUS [ RP STONT ] — minji the simp

minji and y/n's first (non)date... with feelings(?)

WARNINGS ; n/a

minji played with the sleeve of her sweater as she saw hybe's company car turn the corner. the young idol suddenly felt the urge to puke.

she had planned this for a couple days, even finding an almost-deserted karaoke place that wouldn't have cost much to rent out. it was a way to pay back the older girl that she had come to like so much because despite usually finding spontaneous outings annoying, minji had come to look forward to them.

it was only natural to give back to y/n, and it definitely didn't hurt to hang out with the older girl.

the black van stopped in front of minji, the door slamming open as soon as the vehicle came to a halt.

"minji!" y/n jumped out of the van, her manager shaking her head as she closed the door.

minji could feel herself smiling suddenly. y/n had always brought out a side of her that she never knew about. the girl was energetic around others, despite being the exact opposite when she was alone by herself.

minji didn't have to know that, of course.

"unnie." minji stiffed as y/n hugged her. she awkwardly patted her back, trying her best not to explode. the younger girl cleared her throat. "we should go inside."

y/n nodded and pulled away. she reminded herself not to get too excited around minji, forgetting that the girl hated physical touch. y/n just had a weird urge to always be clinging on to the newjeans member.

minji and y/n entered, and the only people greeting them were the staff. minji quickly stated that they had reserved the largest karaoke room, rushing in order to avoid the fact that she spent her money to set this entire thing up.

the staff nodded, ushering them to the back of the building. he briefly explained to the two the rules and how to order before scurrying away.

an empty store meant getting paid to do nothing for the entire shift.

y/n entered, minji closing the door behind her.

"why is no one in here?" y/n asked, considering that it was a saturday.

minji felt her stomach drop, quickly making up a lie. "maybe this place isn't that busy in general."

"wow," y/n shot the younger girl a smile, missing minji's flushed face. "i guess being around you makes me lucky, huh?"

"i guess so." minji cleared her throat, trying to at least act normal around y/n.

minji took off her bag and sat on the couch. she grabbed the menu, y/n hovering over her as the older girl watched. minji looked up awkwardly, earning a small chuckle from y/n.

she's so cute, y/n smiled.

"i'll pick a song while you're doing that." y/n stated, sitting close beside minji as she shuffled through the karaoke playbook.

minji looked away briefly after realizing that she couldn't focus as she looked through the menu. she could already hear hanni calling her a simp (among the other names that the girl calls her).

she shook her head slightly, focusing on the menu.

suddenly, y/n stood up and rushed for the remote on the table. she quickly typed the song number on the tablet that the place had provided for them.

as soon as the song started, minji's head shot up, realizing that y/n had begun playing her song, 'ditto'.

y/n hollered, grabbing a microphone as she stood in front of the tv monitor. "sing with me!"

minji smiled, an overwhelming feeling of giddiness spreading all across her body. she couldn't help but think of how adorable y/n was at that moment, mic in hand as she sang the chorus. the older girl made minji feel like there was a spotlight made for her at times like these.

if this was how y/n's fans saw her on stage (read: hyein) then minji would gladly become her biggest fan.

minji quickly ordered their food on the tablet in front of them (she was grateful that she didn't have to miss y/n's performance). she watched as y/n vaguely copied her dance on screen.

"kim minji," y/n pointed. "stand up and make some noise!"

minji rolled her eyes, complying with the girl. she watched as y/n came closer to her, almost as if the girl had been serenading her (minji freaked out at the thought). y/n leaned in and for a split second, minji could feel her eyes lock onto the older idol's mouth.

y/n, completely oblivious, wrapped both her hands around her mic and continued to encourage minji to sing.

minji looked back up, feeling bold. gently, the younger girl found herself wrapping both her hands around y/n's as she moved the microphone towards her.

y/n didn't know why, but she swore she felt like her heart had gotten faster.

luckily for minji, y/n didn't notice that she was having a near mental breakdown from initiating something so big. she was used to y/n holding her hands, the older girl was known to love skinship.

but it felt different this time, and she didn't know why.

singing the last notes of the song, minji pulled away, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants.

the two sat on the couch, already tired from performing one song (although they did go full out)

"that was fun right?" y/n asked, minji noticing that the other girl's face had turned bright red.

minji nodded, closing her eyes as she laid her head against y/n's shoulder. the older girl tensed up, suddenly feeling her stomach churn with an unfamiliar sensation.

minji could feel herself suddenly blushing harder. she had known le sserafim was a group of muscular people and had heard rumors that the group's '03 line was known to be the most muscular. minji just didn't expect y/n to be...

minji could fully understand hyein.

"minji?" y/n poked her cheek.

"huh?" minji managed to choke out. "oh sorry. what's wrong?"

"the food's here," y/n mumbled, still not feeling sure why her stomach started churning so much. minji looked at the food, wondering how she missed it. "takoyaki? bestie, how did you know?"

"you talked about it last time." minji closed her eyes again.

"wow, you pay attention to me?" y/n felt like she could almost puke.

minji groaned against the older girl. "unnie..."

"i'm kidding." the older girl giggled. she looked at the food in front of her, seeing that once again, there was a singular blueberry muffin. she turned to look at minji. "let's eat before it gets cold."

"is it okay if i stay like this?" minji asked, turning to face y/n.

for a beat, y/n didn't move, only nodding before she turned back around to eat as much food as she can without the company breathing down her back.

minji closed her eyes again, trying to calm her heart down. she was being delusional. maybe she was starting to see things because she liked the older girl so much.

still, minji could've sworn that y/n looked at her lips, just for a second.

masterlist | next

taglist (CLOSED)!!

@fav9yu @gojosrug @lizseos @captivq @invusblog @writingficsblog @wonyoluvr @limbforalimb @lethalvenus @archerheejin @bibrinastan @ahnneyong @theeyoon @phamminji @chaersly @misumiausworld @afiaaaa19 @yumtooki @oshyci @txtbrainrot @falling-intoo-deep @0310lvr @yizhoutv @rinpopz @serenitygrace24 @noiacha @marimo-anura @sserajeans @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @rd0265667 @li0ilthecxnt @dmndtears @rosiehrs @yeridaenggi @spritin @cecedrake2217 @meltingbluess @jeonsy98 @haerinstolemyhrt @ssambf @awkwardtoafault @babycubchae @perfectsunlight @forever-in-the-sky2

[onelastskip]

wahhhhh i posted this on the keyframes discord server but just some kf + chi aubade stuff

Little things that remind the cast of Chi :3

Deja: Chipmunks, Cream puffs, Shy Guy (Mario), Fluffy blankets, Stuffed animals, Cute patterned Washi tape, Rose quartz, Wind chimes, Dating sims, Fairy lights

Cam: Squirrels, Crepes, Cherry 7-11 Slurpees, Sweet chili chips, Silly cat pictures, Pokemon cards, Soju, Ditto by New Jeans, Pretty dice, Keychains, Shoujo manga

Percy: Rabbits, Mochi, Paper stars, Pears, Claw machines, Embroidered clothing, Chokers, Necklaces, Waffles,

Elio: Ursa minor, Cinnamon rolls, Pink maidenhair ferns, String bracelets, Overalls

Jamie: Chunky knit sweaters and cardigans, Lace, Mice, Cupcakes, Chrysanthemums

Reynah: Butterflies, Strawberries, Mimosas, Milk tea, Dogs tilting their heads

All of them: The colour pink, Smell of vanilla, Fun earrings, Cotton candy, Cameras/photography, Mugs

i will probably do things that remind chi of her friends later idk teehee

[the-roo-too]

hello!! could i request something fluffy with lily x 7th/8th member!reader? something about mutual crushing and them being roommates and so awkward around each other and the members constantly teasing them about it... (then maybe confessing late at night in their room?)

ditto -> bandmate! lily jin morrow

-the art of saying it back

warnings: awkward; veri short (like most of my works)

genre: fluff; friends to lovers

notes: SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT OMG

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

SLAM

“i’m going to strangle jiwoo!” lily looked up from the book she was reading, clearly surprised that you arrived at your shared room so abruptly. she marked the page with a bookmark before turning her attention to you with a playful smile.

“what did she do this time?”

“so you remember that cute sweater you bought last friday, unnie?” of course lily remembered that, you loved the piece of clothing so much you resorted to stealing it every other day. “so i finally bought a similar one, just in a different shade. now jiwoo keeps teasing me that we have matching couple sweaters!”

lily looked away for a second with a soft smile, before turning to you again. “oh no, how could you ever cope with that, huh?”

“i know right?!”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

that’s the way it has been in the nmixx dorm ever since the sleeping arrangements changed (haewon thought it would be fun (haewon wanted to cause chaos)).

the oldest out of the bunch wouldn’t say she was particularly close with you before getting paired together, although she has wanted to be. you weren’t part of the unnie line (just a little younger than sullyoon) so she never had a reason to bother you.

you were just… very pretty. that she could always admit. on her solo lives with nswers? she always called you pretty.

yet the two of you weren’t that close. even after being paired as roommates, lily could feel the awkward tensions that always surrounded the room.

she just couldn’t figure out why.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you were a different story. you thought all your members were pretty! the oldest out of your unnies was a different pretty though. she was.. warm. and you liked warm.

maybe that’s why you liked her so much?

one thing that always distinguished you and lily was the fact that you were aware of your not-so-little crush on the older girl. that’s why you feared things would turn awkward when you got paired with her to share the dorm room.

turns out awkward isn’t always a bad start.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you looked at the sweater you just bought. it didn’t feel as warm as lily did.

lily?

you shook your head. lily’s sweater. it was safer to keep things that way.

“what’s wrong?”

“can i have your sweater again…?”

lily frowned gently. “i thought you bought yourself a similar one? is there something wrong with it?”

“no, i just…” you could feel your cheeks heating up as you tried to think of a excuse.

seeing you,your unnie shrugged her shoulders with a small smile. “you can have it, y/nnie.” she said, handing you the piece of clothing.

you immediately perked up. “thank you, unnie!”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

sullyoon tilted her head curiously when she saw you step into the living room. “isn’t that lily unnie’s sweater…? i thought you got your own?” she asked softly.

sitting next to her jinsol turned her head to look at you too, just in time for lily to exit your shared room, wearing your sweater in exchange. bae smirked lightly at that view and nudged the older girl.

“unnie, i think they finally confessed.”

“what?”

“what?” you blushed intensely at her words and glanced back at lily, who’s face was almost as red as yours.

“c-confessed?”

jinsol titled her head. “you didn’t?”

“NO!”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

everyone else laughed it of, because that was the normal thing to do. right? you laid in your bed, the room enveloped in darkness. lily was sound asleep, or at least that’s what you figured from her steady breathing.

“…unnie?” she didn’t answer, confirming your suspicions. you sighed, sitting up in your bed. it had to be all in your head, right?

your unnie couldn’t possibly like you back. she was the oldest, she knew it would ruin the group.

because it would, right?

“i need to talk with haewon unnie…” you spoke softly, getting down from the bed.

“if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me, y/nnie..” answered a quiet voice. you turned your head to look at lily, who was no longer asleep (was she ever in the first place?).

“unnie, i…”

lily stood up from her bed, revealing your sweater.

“you’re wearing my sweater, unnie..?” she looked down for a second before chuckling.

“and you’re wearing mine.” she shrugged. “besides, it feels nice. so what’s bothering you, y/nnie?”

you slowly walked closer, letting the older girl wrap her arms around you. “can i tell you something, unnie?”

“anything.” she said as she laid her forehead on yours.

“you promise you won’t be mad..?”

lily lifted up her pinky with a small smile. “pinky promise.”

“…i think… i think i like you, unnie.”

she hummed. “i know.”

“you do?”

“of course, you weren’t really slick with it.”

“and… what do you think?”

“i like you too.”

“you do?”

“wasn’t that obvious?”

you looked the older girl in the eyes. “i guess it was…”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

[mins-fins]

DITTO (L.JH)

SUMMARY . . . everybody seems to know; but everybody seems to not question it as well.

PAIRING . . . lee jeonghyeon x male!reader

GENRE . . . fluff, crack

WARNINGS . . . none!

WORD COUNT . . . 1.2k

NOTES . . . uriel sent a bunch of lee jeonghyeon photos in the discord and now my obsession with this man has leveled up (so thanks uriel for making this possible), also my girl rose (@ohdudedhesflirting) wished to be tagged so here you go my love!

there's something going on between jeonghyeon and y/n.

hanbin is sure he's cracked the case, now.

before, it really wasn't that weird, the two of them did normal best friend things, but the reason hanbin started thinking something else was going was because of how jeonghyeon willingly let y/n give him affection.

he brought it up in a live once, masking it as jealousy because jeonghyeon never allows him to give kisses, but lets y/n kiss him, even on pretty normal occasions.

he wanted answers, but the answers given to him were pretty vague.

they didn't even answer his question, just laughed and changed the subject.

now, hanbin likes to think he's observant, being friends with jeonghyeon and y/n for two years has made him pretty perceptive. he notices the small things about them, the slight changes, the fonder looks they share, how even after group hugs end they continue to cling onto each other, how they always choose to sit next or beside each other.

hanbin thinks he has it all figured out. they have to be dating..there's no other explanation for this!

hanbin is lost in his thoughts as he stirs his cup of coffee, and when he hears the door open, he smiles as he sees y/n walk in, rubbing his eyes.

"y/n, morning".

"morning hanbin".

when hanbin turns fully around, he blinks as he comes across the sight of y/n wearing a sweater, but it's not his sweater, it looks a little big on him if he's being honest.

don't ask him hanbin.

"that's not your sweater, is it?"

good lord you asked him.

y/n looks up, taking a sip of his coffee first. "no, it's not my sweater, it's jeonghyeon's".

hanbin watches y/n specifically smile as he says jeonghyeon's name, but he doesn't comment on it, instead raising an eyebrow suspiciously at y/n.

the younger notices, giving a small smile, though hanbin can see the pink color on his cheeks. "i borrowed it and he didn't seem to mind, so.."

"uh huh" hanbin simply sips his coffee, still staring at y/n with narrowed eyes.

they had a fan meeting later today, he should be focused on that.

oh please, he tried.

but now hanbin is 100% sure jeonghyeon and y/n are dating.

the two of them are quite literally attached to the hip the whole fan meet, and okay, it's normal to be very close to your friends, but lee jeonghyeon of all people, being affectionate? after he vehemently denies all of hanbin's affection? it surprises him.

they don't even make an effort to hide it, y/n is clearly, in broad daylight, admiring jeonghyeon like he depends on it, even getting distracted by jeonghyeon whilst he was speaking to fans, on camera (hanbin is sure fans on twitter are gonna have a field day with that).

he's sure that junghyun and jihoo notice too, because they keep giggling and whispering to each other.

the 'couple' though, don't seem to catch on quite yet.

they look like their having the best time of their lives, if hanbin's being honest, and he can't help but smile at how cute they are, they're still his good friends after all, he's glad they're happy.

but it still doesn't answer his questions.

after the fan meeting ends, the rest of them are tired, but hanbin is still very curious, his mind keeps pushing him to ask jeonghyeon questions about him and y/n.

no, you shouldn't be nosy, hanbin, even if they are dating just leave them be, it's literally none of your business.

but for pete's sake, hanbin can't not ask any questions, especially with how obvious they are being.

when hanbin comes across the two of them again, the two youngest are already asleep, they have school tomorrow, and hanbin has to wake them up in the morning.

he walks into jeonghyeon's room, he pauses at the doorway. jeonghyeon is sitting on his bed, using his phone, y/n is sleeping on his lap, completely passed out as jeonghyeon uses his free hand to run his fingers through his hair.

i better not be stupid..

"hi hanbin" jeonghyeon smiles at the sight of the eldest, continuing to play with y/n's hair as he softly snores. "do you need something?"

hanbin blinks, resisting the urge to let his jaw drop because y/n is wearing jeonghyeon's sweater again, if this isn't the most obvious relationship ever he doesn't know what is.

"jeonghyeon".

"yeah?" jeonghyeon looks confused, because the way hanbin called his name makes it seem like he did something wrong. "what happened?"

"i— uh.. you—" hanbin pauses once again, sighing. "you two are like.. a thing right?"

jeonghyeon tilts his head, staring for a moment before he giggles. "i'm surprised you didn't ask sooner".

now hanbin's jaw drops, he takes a long pause before closing his mouth, blinking as he stares at the younger 02 liner. "what do you mean?"

"it's been four months".

"four months!?"

hanbin feels stupid, they have been dating for four months and he's only just caught on. the two of them have been dating since march, and he didn't even notice until after the show ended.

"i— how did i not notice?"

"i was waiting for you to" jeonghyeon replies, a small smile coming to his face. "taerae got it before you, heck, even seunghwan did, and he's not even in this company".

hanbin gasps, placing a hand on his chest right above his heart. jeonghyeon laughs once again, using his free hand to cover his mouth.

hanbin pouts, now feeling stupid, and jeonghyeon finally stops laughing. "sorry sorry, i just.. how did you not know?"

"i didn't want to assume and be wrong!"

"well you weren't!"

hanbin sighs and his shoulders slump, but as he stares at jeonghyeon sitting on the bed, and y/n sleeping on his lap, he just smiles, because they're happy.

if they're happy, that's all that matters.

"well, i'm happy for you two, even though i discovered much later than i should've.."

hanbin mumbles, and jeonghyeon just lowers his head, making sure he doesn't begin laughing once again. "you guys take care of each other, okay?"

jeonghyeon looks down at y/n sleeping in his lap, a familiar look of love coming to his eyes. "of course, thank you hanbin hyung".

"no problem, make sure to go to sleep early too okay?"

"well, i can't promise that".

hanbin chuckles and smiles at jeonghyeon, shaking his head as he closes the door to his room.

jeonghyeon still finds himself giggling at that prior interaction.

y/n shifts as he feels jeonghyeon's fingers comb through his hair, he blinks and looks up at his boyfriend, who looks back down at him. for some reason, jeonghyeon laughs and presses a kiss onto his forehead.

"what's so funny?"

"hanbinie finally found out about us".

y/n is clearly surprised. he doesn't move his head from jeonghyeon's lap as he processes the statement, a look of shock coming to his face.

"just now?"

"just now" jeonghyeon confirms, and y/n snickers to himself, covering his face with his hands.

jeonghyeon just stares, and y/n notices, because he just stares with such fond eyes that it's hard not to notice.

"stop looking at me like that!"

"like what honey?"

y/n buries his face into his hands in frustration, face too red and hot for his own comfort. a small laugh is hears from jeonghyeon, who is definitely amused by how easily his boyfriend gets flustered.

"i hate you".

"i love you too".

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

For the prompts, I honestly think it would be fun to see Greyson and Matt building a gingerbread house for an event while one (or both) of them is sick

But if you’re looking for suuuuper simple prompts, Elijah locked out of the restaurant because he’s sick and forgot his key?

ghostlychill, you always know just how to get me to write something lmao.

Greyson and Matt sick while making a gingerbread house, under the cut. 500ish words. Thank you for the prompt :) :)

“Hold still.”

It’s Greyson who says it, and Greyson who pulls away moments later. “Huh-! Hh-NGTSHH-ue!”

Matt coughs out a laugh. “‘Hold still’,” he says, mocking. The sous uses his tweezers to gently place a gumdrop on the front door of the house; it barely has time to set before his eyes glaze over. “HTSH! HhIGTZSHH!”

The two of them stand with arms over their noses and mouths, a game of chicken they’ve both already lost. “Bless,” Greyson says first, wiping his nose and sniffling.

“Ditto,” Matt says, coughing into his sleeve before removing his own arm.

They stare at their barely-begun gingerbread house in agony; this Christmas cook-off was supposed to be a fun, silly little event that they were doing to raise some money for charity and get some press for the restaurant. When they signed up for it three weeks ago, they thought it’d be a good excuse to make Elijah close the restaurant on a slow Sunday evening. They’d make their little house, the event would be over by seven, and they’d get to drink hot toddy’s at a Christmas-themed bar until they blacked out. A perfect winter’s night.

Now, it’s nine-thirty pm, the gingerbread house portion of this never-ending event has just begun, and Greyson and Matt are sporting dueling headaches and twin fevers; matching Christmas colds to go with the stupid Christmas sweaters Elijah forced them to wear. They glare at one another, sniffling in tandem.

“Do you think Elijah will find out if we forfeit?” Greyson asks, clearing his throat to save his rapidly-disappearing voice. Matt thinks it over before answering.

“...do we care?” he asks eventually. The two of them glance silently at their sad, dilapidated gingerbread shack, weighing the cost of Elijah’s anger with the agony that is staying in this stuffy, overheated ballroom any longer. Eventually, Greyson crumples back into his elbow.

“HhhETSCCHH-uh! Hh-! HRRTSHH-ue!” He groans into his sleeve, and Matt winces in sympathy.

“You sound like total shit, Cheehhh – ETSHHH-ue!” Matt dips into his hands to catch the sudden sneeze, winces at the spray. Greyson coughs. Several other chefs from the area glance over at them with pity or disgust thinly veiled on their faces.

“Fuck it,”Greyson says, and swipes his hand across their table, wiping their little gingerbread hovel out of existence. “We forfeit,” he calls to no one in particular, prompting a round of nervous laughs from the other participants.

Matt wipes his hands on his apron and Greyson loops his arm around his sous’ shoulders, leading them both out of the ballroom and into the hotel’s lobby bar.

“I think we deserve a drink after that fuckin’ spectacle,” he says, settling Matt onto a bar stool and plopping himself down beside him. The younger man laughs, a throaty sound that immediately turns into a cough.

“I think we deserve the bottle,” Matt says. “HHETSCHH-ue!!”

[presumenothing]

hi! I really need some more zhou shen content, and am wondering if you can help me out. which are his best variety shows (that aren't singing comps, I think I've seen all those)? I loved youth periplous and keep running, and don't know what to watch next.

ok i'm gonna have to turn to crowdsourcing for this one because my attention span for watching shows esp general variety is basically Zero (0) so aside from a few exceptions the most i've seen is random clips of each. non-exhaustive list below shamelessly stolen off wikipedia, zhou shen tag friends please DO chip in with your sage advice

(also disclaimer that i have no idea about the eng sub availability and/or quality for any of these at all rip)

EDIT: comment party in the replies!! come drop in

music (regular):

声入人心/super vocal s1: the classic, probably everyone has seen this

我们的歌/our song: the new(?) classic. iconic showstopping etc

歌手·当打之年/singer 2020: need i say more

���造营/chuang 2021: dance dance revolution (polyglot edition)

天赐的声音/the treasured voice s3: still not over that 调查中 duet!! also shoutout to studio for solid rehearsal!shen vlog content

时光音乐会/time concert s2: A++ performances and vibes all around, including the game/dinner extras. also possibly still my favourite arrangement of 光亮

舞台2023/the next: lovely backstage bits of him working with contestants + nerding out over music with arai-sensei. plus that (literally) lit 人是＿ performance, we love to see it

music (guest):

蒙面唱将猜猜猜/masked singer: another classic

一起乐队吧/let's band: a rare 周浅 appears aww back when he would wince at people addressing him as laoshi

唱给世界听/sing tour: first appearance in a mentor role! though i don't think i've watched this one at all actually

这! 就是原创/chuang: remember when he actually broke a sweat over high Cs lmao. anyway tang hanxiao's skillz amirite

经典咏流传/everlasting classics s3: i need to listen to 情是何物 another 100000 times again actually?? also hiiii liao-laoshi

流淌的歌声/flowing melodies s2: the way everyone was just treating him like a walking jukebox on this one LOL 1000/10 valid

明日之子SUPER BAND: hey. hey lang lang you should bring this bean along to your appearances more often. please

乐队的夏天/the big band: that entire backstage footage of him and muma pls

上线吧! 华彩少年/bravo youngsters: ok i'll be honest i have no impression of what the actual show was about but the backstage clips were so fun

2060: mandatory mention simply because of that 浓情淡如你 performance aaaaaaaa

non-music (regular):

了不起的长城/the great wall

青春环游记/youth periplous s2: hilariously i'm pretty certain that everyone has watched more of this than i have

新手驾到/go newbies: the closest i will ever get to a driving license

令人心动的offer/an exciting offer s2-3: shenshen AND shuangbei (aka the he jiong + sa beining combo). what more could you ask for

开始推理吧/the truth: the only one of these i've watched in full (mostly). aka ZHOU KEKE my tiny beaaaaannnn 🥺🥺🥺

奔跑吧/keep running

non-music (guest):

出发吧，师傅!/shifu go go go: makes the list simply out of sheer hilarity

王牌对王牌/ace vs ace: that sa dingding duet!! aka instance no.??? of "let's elevate this non-music show to Concert Hall Levels"

天天向上/day day up: the one where he dubbed frozen live

向往的生活/back to field: hi maomao!

明星大侦探/who's the murderer NZND concert: aka Spooky Hours

奇妙之城/marvelous city: so nice to see him back home! also 10000/10 cave concert when

念念青春/searching for youth: A+ wardrobe choices no notes

种地吧: ditto (snuggly grey sweater!!)

你好生活 s4: aka the one where he nearly gave sa beining an aneurysm lmao

快乐大本营/happy camp and 你好星期六/hello saturday: hiiii he-laoshi!! also nezha!zs hahaha

[mused-amused]

Jeff Buckley: Knowing Not Knowing

From Inside the Music: Conversations with Contemporary Musicians about Spirituality, Creativity, and Consciousness

©️ 1997 Dmitri Ehrlich

Early in the spring of 1997, singer and songwriter Jeff Buckley headed down to Memphis to begin pre-production on what would have been his second full-length album. A few weeks after Buckley arrived, his bandmates flew in from New York to join him. He was in high spirits: the songwriting was going well, and he was reunited with his group. The same night his band arrived Buckley went out for a late-night stroll to a Memphis harbor and waded into the river. He had always admired Led Zeppelin, and was singing "Whole Lotta Love" when a boat passed in front of him. He lost his footing, perhaps dragged into the water by the boat's wake, and was never seen alive again.

He was thirty years old, two years older than his father, the folksinger Tim Buckley, had been when he died of a drug overdose.

I first met Jeff Buckley and saw him perform about two years before he passed away. It was near midnight and Buckley was sitting in the back office of a Tower Records store in lower Manhattan. Buckley had become a scion of the Lower East Side antifolk scene, and was preparing for an in-store performance in support of his album Grace.

But first he needed to do something: he insisted on listening to a crackly old recording of "The Man That Got Away" by Judy Garland, on the pretext that he wanted the store manager, who had given the CD to Buckley, to un derstand how magnificent a gift it was. Buckley needed to demonstrate the album's beauty. He had also picked up gratis CD reissues of vintage Aretha Franklin and Nina Simone records, and two albums by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, who had a major influence on Buckley's singing. While Buckley could occasionally summon the same kind of ecstatic vocal power that was Khan's trademark, his singing had more in common with Garland's delicate, vulnerable warble.

Buckley was an unglamorous star. That night he was wearing a wretched pair of weathered combat boots-the sort you occasionally see homeless men selling-a frumpy gray cardigan sweater, and jeans that hadn't been washed in a long time. Ditto his hair. In an oddly white-trash bit of accessorizing, Buckley's wallet was attached to his belt by a chain, in the style favored by motorcyde gangs. Three days of beard growth rounded out his anti-coif, but his sex appeal remained intact: a nervous girl approached to ask if, as she suspected, he was a Scorpio. Another pressed a poem she had written for him into his hand. He folded it carefully and put it in his pocket, as though he would cherish it forever. Maybe he did.

Buckley was at an odd moment in his career when he died. Having moved to New York several years before from California, where he was raised by his mother, he crawled his way up through the ranks of the insular lower Manhattan music scene. He had become a mini-star in that highly circumscribed microcosm, perched on the cusp of national and international success. That night at Tower Records the line between Lower East Side local hero and international stardom seemed pretty thin. On one hand, his debut album sold several hundred thousand copies (al-though more in Europe than in America), and there was & throng of photographers and autograph-seekers pressing around him. On the other hand, he wasn't above hauling his own gear onstage, more or less indistinguishable from the half dozen stringy-haired sound men and roadies who were putting the sound system in place.

Buckley had no video in heavy rotation on MTV, largely because he insisted that people judge the music on the way it sounded before supplying them with an accompanying image. For the same reason, he refused to even suggest a single to radio deejays. "What I'd love," Buckley said, "is if a deejay had a lineup of songs, and he'd just use one of my songs as part of a really nice evening. But that's the way I would deejay, not the way they do it. They usually have playlists."

For a guy with folksinging in his blood, Buckley had assembled an arsenal of prog-rock guitar effects you'd expect at an Emerson, Lake, and Palmer show and had set his amp at cat-spaying volume. (In fact, he had been raised on Led Zeppelin and Kiss.) Several dozen more stringy-haired people with assorted rings in their lips and noses (his fans) materialized. As he stepped onto the makeshift stage, a grumpy security guard began clearing some fans from a stairway, but Buckley interjected: "Wait! Those are my friends! Can they stay there? I give them special permission." What started as dispensation for four friends ended up being extended to anybody who wanted to stay.

The set began with a ghostly wail from Buckley, and a mildly Middle Eastern guitar line. He sang with a vibrato that quivered like the tongue of a snake. It was so atmospheric that you hardly realized his bandmates were rocking their tits off. That was the tension: Buckley ululating in sensual falsetto, the band churning out mid-seventies Led Zep knockoffs. He seemed a strangely ethereal cherub in the midst of all that visceral thrash.

After the show, Buckley signed autographs, taking several minutes with the thirty or so fans who lined up for an audience with the tousle-haired singer. Rather than just scribbling an autograph, he wrote a personal note to each person. Everything he did seemed to place poetry before commerce, but I couldn't help wondering if it was all an elaborate ruse, a crafty stance aimed at those disenchanted wich the slickness of pop posturing. Didn't Buckley, after all, want to make a lot of money and sell records?

"If it happens it'd be great," he said later that night, over omelettes and wine at an all-night eatery, "but we just play to express. I want to live my life playing music, so that we can be immersed in it. In order to learn how deep it goes, you have to be in it."

As to why he took so much time with each of the fans who asked for an autograph, Buckley articulated his basic anti-rock-star stance: "The way I experience a performance is that there's an exchange going on. It's not just my ego being fed. It's thoughts and feelings. Raw expression has its own knowledge and wisdom." He trailed off, as though humbled by the mere thought of his audience wanting to hear him play, or asking him for an autograph.

"I’ve been in their position before and all I wanted was to show my appreciation to the performer. So I feel like it's kind of generous of them to even be asking me for an auto-graph.

"It's true that there's also the people who want a piece of you," he conceded. "But it's pretty hard to keep feeling protective all the time, because there's really nothing to protect yourself against. Sometimes people shout at me on the street, and they feel they know me through my music. But that doesn't substitute for a real personal rela-tionship. I don't feel like people know me, I just think we share a love for music in common, and for some reason they key into the way I play. I feel appreciative when people come up to me, and I feel good when we connect. Usually, it serves as a nice comedown after a performance. Any other conduct would bust the groove, because I'm buzzing when I get offstage, and I'm consciously protecting that connection because that's what got me through the performance in the first place. It's an invocation and worship of this certain feeling, this direct line to your heart, and somehow music does that more powerfully than anything else. It's like a total, immediate elixir."

By all appearances Buckley conformed to the stereotype of the poetic artist: largely lacking the practical, thick-skinned psychic barrier that separates most of us from the harsh realities of life. With a rabbit-like nervous disposition and a hypersensitive vulnerability that bordered on tragicomic, he looked like he was about to burst into tears at any moment. His face was contorted and slightly tortured-looking during most of the interview, though I got the impression that it wasn't so much the experience of being interviewed that was torturing him but the pain of grappling with his own thoughts and the world around him.

Relationships were at the heart of Buckley's world.

Although he was marketed as a solo artist, the attitude he had toward his listeners mirrored the relationship he formed with his three-piece backing band. "Playing with a band is all about accepting a bond, accepting everything the way it is. It takes a lot of patience and a lot of taking chances with each other. It takes seeing each other in weak and strong lights, and accepting both, and utilizing the high and low points of your relationship."

It wasn't only interpersonal relationships that Buck-Ley held sacred - he was aware of making his music in relation to all the sounds around him. The environment was Buckley's co-composer: to his ears, no melody or rhythm was separate from the sounds going on in the background.

“It’s not like music begins or ends. All kinds of sounds are working into each other. Sometimes I'll just stop on the street because there's a sequence of sirens going on; it's like a melody I'll never hear again. In performance, things can be meaningful or frivolous, but either way the musical experience is totally spontaneous, and new life comes out of it, meaning if you're open to hearing the way music interacts with ambient sound, performance never feels like a rote experience. It's pretty special sometimes, the way a song affects a room, the way you're in complete rhythm with the song. When you're emotionally overcome, and there's no filter between what you say and what you mean, your language becomes guttural, simple, emotional, and full of pictures and clarity. Were you to transcribe it, it might not make sense, but music is a totally different language."

"People talk all day in a practical way, but real language that penetrates and affects people and carries wisdom is something different. Maybe it's the middle of the afternoon and you see a child's moon up in the sky, and you feel like it's such a simple, pure, wonderful thing to look at. It just hits you in a certain way, and you point it out to a stranger, and he looks at you like you're weird and walks away. To speak that way, to point out a child's moon to a stranger, is original language, it's the way you originate yourself. And the cool thing is, if you catch people in the right moment, it's totally clear. Without knowing why, it's simply clear. That sort of connection is very empirical.

It comes from the part of you that just understands imme-diately. All these types of things are gold, and yet they are dishonored or not paid attention to because that kind of tender communication is so alien in our culture, except in performance. There's a wall up between people all day long, but performance transcends that convention. If pop music were really seen as a fine art or if fine art were popu-lar, I don't know what the hell would happen this wouldn't be the same country, because if the masses of people began to respect and really open to fine art, it would bring about a huge shift in consciousness.

"Music is so many things. It's not just the perfor-mer. It's the audience and the architecture of the song, and each builds off the other. Music is a setting for poi-gnancy, anger, destruction, total disaster, total wrongness, and then—like a little speck of gold in the middle of it-excitement, but excitement in a way that matters. Excitement that is not just aesthetically pleasing but shoots some sort of understanding into you."

Buckley's songs were composed with made-up chords, bright harmonic clusters that seem too obvious not to have been written before, yet they rarely feel formulaic. There's a lot of open strumming, suggesting that the songs were written largely for the sheer physical pleasure of playing them. He and his band modified the arrangements during each performance, playing with an elasticity and openness typical of Buckley's personality. "Hearing a song is like meeting somebody. A song is something that took time to grow and once it's there, it's on its own. Every time you perform it, it's different. It has its own structure, and you have to flow through it, and it has to come through you."

Buckley's entire career reflected his outsider's approach to the music business. When he arrived in New York, rather than recording a demo or finding an agent, he simply began to perform for free. He played at a small café on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, and before long, crowds were lined up out the door. As a result, representatives of record companies sought out Buckley, rather than the other way around. "There is a distinct separation of sensibility between art as commerce and art as a way of life. If you buy into one too heavily it eats up the other. If instead of having songs happen as your life happens, you're getting a song together because you need a certain number of songs on a release to be sold, the juice is sucked out immediately. That approach kills it."

Still, it took a strong belief in one's art to sit in a small café and trust that the world's record companies would come calling. Buckley played down his seemingly effortless approach to career as though it were common-sense. "I just wanted to learn certain things. I wanted to just explore, like a kid with crayons. It took a while for me to get a record contract, but it also took a tremendous amount of time for me to feel comfortable playing, and that's all I was concerned with. And I'm still concerned with that, mainly.”

"I don't think about my responsibility as a musician in terms of any kind of religious significance. I don't have any allegiance to organized religion; I have an allegiance to the gifts that I find for myself in those religions.

They seem to be saying the same thing, they just have different mythologies and expressions, but the dogma of religions and the way they're misused is all too much of a trap. I'd rather be nondenominational, except for music. I prefer to learn everything through music. If you want divinity, the music in every human being and their love for music is pretty much it. It's the big indication of their spirituality and their ability to love and make love, or feel pain or joy, and really manifest it, really be real. But I don't believe in a big guy with a beard on a throne, telling us that we're bad; I certainly don't believe in original sin. I believe in the opposite of that: you have an Eden immediately from the time you are born, but as you are conditioned by your caretakers and your surroundings, you may lose that origi nal thing. Your task is to get back to it, so you can dam responsibility for your own perfection."

Buckley considered the development of awareness to be the main goal of his life. "I think of it as trying to get more aligned with the feeling of purity in music, however it sounds. I think music is prayer. Sometimes people make up prayers and they don't even know it. They just make up a song that has rhyme and meter, and once it's made, it can carry on a life of its own. It can have a lot of juice to it and a lot of meaning: there's no end to the different individual flavors that people can bring to the musical form.

"In order to make the music actual, you have to enable it to be. And that takes facing some things inside you that constrict you, your own impurity and mistakes and blockages. As you open up yourself, the music opens up in different directions that lead you in yet other directions." Asking most pop musicians if they're satisfied with record sales is like asking models about the aging process: they say they don't care, but it's hard to believe. For commercial recording artists, sales are the only objective indicator of whether they're doing things right—that fans are sincerely motivated to walk into record stores by the tens or by the millions, pull out their wallets, and pay for the music. But with his quiet, unaffected voice nearly a whis-per, Buckley steadfastly maintained that he really didn't want to sell a million records and it was strangely believ-able. When he talked about multiplatinum-selling bands who felt "disappointed" by a mere five million copies sold, the disgust he felt for commercialism was palpable. "The only valuable thing about selling records, the only thing that matters, is that people connect and that you keep on growing. You do make choices based on how many people you reach, meaning, now that I have a relationship with stangers worldwide, I have to try not to let it become too much of a factor and just accept it. The limited success we've had in the past is definitely a factor, it's just there. It justis. The whole thing is such a crapshoot, you can't really control what your appeal is gonna be. My music ain't gonna make it into the malls, but it doesn't matter. I don't really care to make it into the malls.

"Whether I sell a lot of records or not isn't up to me. You can sell a lot of records, but that's just a number sold-that's not understood, or loved, or cherished.”

"Take someone like Michael Jackson. Early on he sacrificed himself to his need to be loved by all. His talent and his power were so great that he got what he wanted but he also got a direct, negative result, which is that he's not able to grow into an adult human being. And that's why his music sounds sort of empty and weird.”

"Being the kind of person I am, fame is really over-whelming. First of all, just being faced with the questions that everybody faces: Do I matter? Should I go on? Why am I here? Is this really that important? All that low self-esteem shit. You're constantly trying to make sure that your sense of self-worth doesn't depend on the writings or opinions of other people. You have to wean yourself off acclaim as the object of your work, by learning to depend on your own judgment and knowing what it is that you enjoy. You have to realize what the difference is between being adored and being loved and understood. Big difference.”

“I don’t really have super pointed answers to the big questions. I’m in the middle of a mystery myself. I’m not even that developed at having a real psycho-religious epistemology about what I feel. All I can tell you is that I feel. It's just the same old fight to constantly be aware. It's an ongoing thing. It'll never be a static perfect thing or a static mediocre thing, it just has its rise and fall."

Pics from the book. Amazing that Jeff is in the same section as Allen Ginsberg and Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. He would have been so honored.

[boysplanetrecaps]

Build Up Main Post

Hello, lovies, this will be my main post for my recaps for the MNET show Build Up, a vocal competition show featuring three ex-members of Boys Planet (Jay, Hwanhee, and Wumuti), along with many other charming vocalists. Follow along as they whittle the 40 contestants down to a 4-member vocal group.

Episode 0: Getting to Know the Boys *Team Allround // *Team Soul *Team Power // *Team Unique

Episode 1: Voice Check Part 1 // Part 2

Episodes 1-2: Pre4 Mission If You and Every Moment of You Don't Go // Shall I...? and Ditto Tomboy // Something Like That Breath // Decalcomanie Beautiful Pre4 Mission Wrap Up

Episodes 2-3: The tier assignments

Episodes 3-5: 2 v 2 Rival Mission Ep 3, Part 1: Rival Mission Begins Ep 3, Part 2: Sherlock and End of the Day *More thoughts on End of the Day Ep 3, Part 3: Hmm Cheat and Take Me Back in Time Ep 3, Part 4: Jay vs Wumuti Ep 4, Part 1: Idols vs Trainees Ep 4, Part 2: Letter vs River Ep 4, Part 3: Cool Kids vs Nerds Ep 5, Part 1: Blue Sweaters vs Beige Blazers Ep 5, Part 2: Sunbae vs Hoobae Ep 5, Part 3: The Four Neglected Performances Ep 5, Part 4: Elimination Special 2x2 Rivalry Mission BRAPPY Awards

Episodes 5-7: 3 v 3 Death Match Mission Ep 5, Part 5: Team Creation and Match Formation Ep 5, Part 6: Judging Panel Check in and Pray (I'll be your man) Ep 6, Part 1: Bad News Ep 6, Part 2: Team Gruff'N'Smooth vs Team Sweeties Ep 6, Part 3: Team Mismatch vs Team Maknae Ep 6/Ep 7: Team 9th Place v. Team First Place Ep 7: Team Last Place v. Team Ballad Ep 7: Judges' Saves and Top Tiers Ep 7: Team Formation 3x3 Death Match Mission BRAPPY Awards

Episode 8: First Group Mission Ep 8 Part 1: Drowning (Hunminjaybit) Ep 8 Part 2: Guilty (Partners) Ep 8 Part 3: Drama (Waterfire) Ep 8 Part 4: Uptown Funk (Milky Up) Ep 8 Part 5: Gift (Doremifa) Ep 8 Part 6: Scoring and Whatnot

Episode 9: Semi-Finals Ep 9 Part 1 / Part 2: Flower

Etc: Sweater appreciation post People enjoying singing