#eurovision🎤

[werewolfetone]

People I know irl talking about how much they love eurovision for hours on end every day and then going on & on about how they're sooo pro-palestine and care sooo much... liberalism is a disease for real

[helloyurop]

"Yeah, Arcade, about a gambling addict"

I love that Klemens never stopped trolling. But, to be fair, I will respect Duncan more if his song is really about gambling addiction lol 🎲

[pucksandpower]

Eurovisionaries

Charles Leclerc x Monegasque singer!Reader

Summary: the “Charles Leclerc competes in Eurovision” fic no one asked for but I wrote anyway

Warnings: none that I can think of

“Why is Charles Leclerc trending in the music section?” You wonder aloud, eyes narrowing as you see the pop-up notification on your Twitter.

Opening the app, you’re met with a tweet from an official Eurovision updates account: “🇲🇨 #Monaco: Eligible to Compete in the #Eurovision Song Contest 2024.” Below it, Charles Leclerc, Monaco’s pride and F1 sensation extraordinaire, has replied to the tweet with a sly “I’m ready 🎤.”

You can’t help but laugh. The thought of Charles taking the Eurovision stage is hilarious. You respond to the tweet, “Ever considered a duet? Though I would advise keeping your day job for now 🏎️😉.” Notifications instantly start pouring in, a flurry of likes and retweets.

Your phone buzzes, a call from your manager, Rosa. “Did you see the Leclerc tweet?” She starts without preamble.

“Of course. The entire principality probably has by now,” you chuckle, imagining the reactions of Monegasque citizens.

Silence. A beat too long.

“What?” You probe, sensing her hesitance.

Rosa exhales deeply, “The Monegasque Eurovision committee called me.”

You sit up, “About the tweet?”

“More than that. They’re seriously considering him.”

“For Eurovision?” You're incredulous, “He’s a racer, not a singer.”

She hesitates, “That’s where you come in.”

A long pause ensues. The weight of her words settles around you. Rosa is never one for jokes, especially when it comes to your career.

“They want you to team up with him,” she continues, breaking the silence, “He can compose and play but they need a voice. Your voice.”

The gravity of the situation dawns on you. Representing Monaco in Eurovision is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity but with Charles? Someone you’ve only admired from afar on the circuit?

“What if it doesn’t work out?” You voice your concerns. “Our styles, our personalities ... they could clash.”

“It’s a risk, yes. But it’s also an opportunity. Both for your career and for Monaco,” Rosa reasons.

You look out of the window, the streets of Monaco stretching below. The pride of representing your nation battles with the uncertainty of this potentially bizarre partnership.

“I need some time, Rosa,” you whisper.

She understands. “Take all the time you need. But remember, some of the best things in life come from taking the most unexpected turns.”

As you hang up, Charles’ tweet flashes on your screen again, the confident smile in his profile picture making you wonder if this journey is one you should embark on.

***

“Are you sitting down?” Rosa’s voice is tense, filled with an urgency you rarely hear from her.

You shuffle around in your apartment, finding a chair by the window. “I am now. What’s up?”

She takes a deep breath, her exhale echoing over the line. “The committee’s made their decision. They want Charles Leclerc for Eurovision.”

You almost drop your phone. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was,” she replies, her tone betraying her surprise as much as yours. “And they want you to partner with him.”

The world seems to blur around you. Images of the grand Eurovision stage, the cheering crowds, and a sea of flags swirl through your mind, and the idea of standing there, alongside someone like Charles, is surreal.

“This is ...” you trail off, searching for words.

“Insane? Unprecedented? A media goldmine?” Rosa supplies, ever the pragmatist.

“All of the above.” The weight of the offer hangs between you, punctuated by the distant sounds of Monaco outside your window.

“What did you tell them?” You ask, after a moment of heavy silence.

“I told them we’d think about it,” Rosa says. “But darling, this is huge. For your career, for Charles, for Monaco!”

You sigh, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I’ve never even met him. What if we don’t click? What if we can’t perform together? What if—”

“What if you soar?” Rosa interrupts gently. “What if this is the push both of you need?”

You consider her words, the promise they hold. But the fear remains. “What if I fall?”

Rosa’s voice softens. “Then you get back up, just as you always have. But you won’t be doing it alone. You’ll have all of Monaco behind you.”

The conversation weighs on you long after you’ve hung up. Charles Leclerc, Monaco’s golden boy, and you? It feels like a dream, one you’re not sure you want to wake up from.

That night, as Monaco’s lights twinkle beneath your apartment, a notification lights up your phone. An email with an official Monegasque Eurovision committee letterhead:

We are pleased to extend to you an official invitation to represent Monaco at the Eurovision Song Contest 2024 in an act alongside Charles Leclerc. Details to follow.

The reality sets in. And it terrifies and thrills you in equal measure.

***

“Are you the singer?” The voice unmistakably belongs to Charles, though softer than the confident tone you’ve heard in his interviews.

You turn, your heart doing a tiny flip. He’s leaning against a grand piano in the center of the room, looking more perfect in casual jeans and a t-shirt than he has any right to. You have to remind yourself to breathe for a moment.

“Are you the racer?” You shoot back, attempting to mask your nervousness with humor.

He laughs, “Touche.”

Both of you approach the piano, the room filled with an almost tangible tension. He extends a hand. “Charles.”

You shake it, feeling the calloused fingertips, likely from handling the wheel so often. “I know. And you probably don’t know me, but ... it’s Y/N.”

“I’ve heard your songs on YouTube,” he admits, releasing your hand. “You have an incredible voice.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, surprised and flattered. “You … drive really fast?”

He laughs again, easing some of the tension. “I try.”

The two of you start the rehearsal, with Charles taking the lead on the piano. The notes are hauntingly beautiful, full of emotion. You find yourself getting lost in the music, your voice blending seamlessly with the tune.

But suddenly, Charles stops playing. “Sorry,” he says, a hint of frustration in his voice. “I’m not used to this. Playing in front of someone.”

You blink, taken aback. “You’re not used to performing?”

“Not like this. Racing, I get. This is … different,” he confesses, running a hand through his hair.

You nod, understanding his fear. “Let’s take it slow. We have time.”

He looks up, his eyes searching yours. “Do we? Eurovision is just around the corner and I will be away a lot of the time for races.”

You take a deep breath. “Every journey starts with a single step. Let’s just focus on today.”

You play and sing for hours, taking breaks when needed. The connection, while still tentative, starts to form. By the end of the session, a shaky version of your Eurovision song emerges.

“I think … I think we could actually pull this off,” Charles admits as you pack up.

“With a lot more practice,” you reply, smiling.

He grins, the confidence you expected from him back in full form. “Challenge accepted.”

Walking out of the studio, you can’t help but feel a tiny flutter of excitement. This partnership, as unlikely as it seemed, might just work.

***

“I’ve never been to this bistro,” Charles admits, looking around the quaint little place you’ve chosen.

“It’s a hidden gem. My little escape in Monaco,” you reply, sipping your tea. “Sometimes the noise of the city gets too much.”

He nods, fidgeting slightly. “I get that. For me, it’s the track. I love racing but our world can become ... suffocating sometimes.”

The vulnerability in his words surprises you. You’d always seen Charles as a fearless driver, not a man who needed an escape.

“You know,” you start, “I always thought you loved the thrill, the fame.”

He chuckles, but there’s a shadow in his eyes. “I love racing. The fame, not so much. I love the fans. I love Ferrari. But it’s overwhelming at times. Especially when the car is underperforming.”

You feel a connection in that moment, the shared weight of expectations. “Music is my escape. But sometimes, the pressure to always be on, to always perform ... it’s draining.”

He looks at you, a new understanding dawning in his eyes. “I never thought about it that way. We’re really quite similar, aren’t we?”

The conversation flows naturally after that, moving from work to personal interests. You discover shared hobbies, like a love for old movies, and differing opinions, like his disdain for pineapple on pizza which you adore.

“Pineapple on pizza is a crime,” he declares, feigning outrage.

“You have no taste!” You retort, laughing.

The afternoon slips away, the two of you lost in conversation. It feels like two old friends catching up, not two professionals thrown together by fate.

As you leave the bistro, Charles hesitates. “Would you like to come to a race sometime? See the action up close?”

You smile, touched by the offer. “Only if you come to one of my performances.”

He grins, “Deal.”

In the days that follow, your rehearsals gain a new depth. The newfound friendship seeps into your music, turning the notes and lyrics into pure emotion. The song evolves, reflecting the story of two individuals finding harmony in the most unexpected place.

Rosa notices the change too. “There’s a spark,” she comments one day, after a particularly moving session. “Both in the music and between you two.”

You blush, dismissing her with a wave. “It’s just the music.”

But as the days blur into nights and rehearsals become more intense, you can’t help but wonder if there’s truth in Rosa’s words.

***

“Is it always this chaotic?” Charles whispers, leaning close so only you can hear as you both step backstage of a popular talk show. Bright lights, cameras, and a bustling crew create a vibrant atmosphere of controlled chaos.

“Welcome to my world,” you reply with a smirk, feeling the familiar adrenaline of a live performance. “A bit different from the paddock, isn’t it?”

His eyes sparkle with mischief. “Just a tad.”

A producer approaches, positioning you and Charles for the interview. As you settle onto the couch, Charles’ arm grazes yours, sending an unexpected jolt of warmth up your arm.

The host, a vivacious woman named Martina, begins, “We have Monaco’s sensational Eurovision duo with us today! Charles Leclerc and Y/N Y/L/N. Tell us, how has this partnership been?”

Charles shoots you a glance. “Unexpected at first, certainly. But every moment has been an adventure. We’ve learned from each other and it is reflected in our music.”

You nod, adding, “It’s been a blend of two worlds. And the result is something neither of us anticipated but we have come to love.”

Martina’s gaze flits between both of you, sensing the underlying tension. “There’s undeniable chemistry between you two. It’s clear to me even now. Is there something you’re not telling us?”

Your heart races and you see Charles shift uncomfortably. The question, though posed in jest, holds an element of truth that neither of you has addressed.

“We’re focused on our music and representing Monaco to the best of our abilities,” Charles replies smoothly but the tips of his ears redden.

Martina, sensing a scoop, presses on, “But off the stage? Any sparks?”

You force a laugh, trying to diffuse the situation. “We’re just getting to know each other. Our priority is Eurovision.”

Once off the set, Charles runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you’ve come to recognize as his way of dealing with stress. “That was intense.”

“It’s just the beginning. The closer we get to Eurovision, the more questions like that we’ll get.”

He stops, turning to face you, his eyes intense. “What if there is some truth to their questions?”

The air grows thick, the world narrowing to just the two of you. “Charles ...”

He takes a step closer, his voice dropping. “I can’t ignore it anymore. Every time we’re together, there is this pull.”

Your breath catches, the confession echoing your own feelings. “I feel it too. But right now, everything is so complicated.”

He nods, looking defeated. “I know. Let’s just ... focus on the music for now.”

***

“Are these feathers?” Charles asks, a touch of panic evident as he examines the ornate costume handed to him.

“Welcome to Eurovision,” you say with a wry smile, adjusting the shimmering fabric of your own dress which seems to be a riot of sequins and colors, reflecting the vibrant spirit of the competition.

He chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “This is a bit different from my usual race suit.”

You laugh, playfully nudging him. “Just wait till you see the pyrotechnics.”

The two of you stand backstage as acts from different countries, each more extravagant than the last, parade before you. The dazzling array of costumes, the eccentric set designs, and the sheer scale of the event are overwhelming.

Charles, sensing your nervousness, takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ve got this.”

You nod, leaning into his touch. The tension between the two of you has only grown, making moments like these all the more intense.

Suddenly, a voice announces, “Next up, representing Monaco, please welcome Charles Leclerc and Y/N Y/L/N!”

Your heart rate spikes. Charles leads you to the stage, the grand piano at its center surrounded by a sea of lights creating an ethereal atmosphere.

He starts playing, the haunting melody echoing in the cavernous venue. As you join in with your vocals, the world seems to fade away. It’s just the two of you, lost in the music.

The song builds to its climax. You move closer to Charles, the emotional depth of the lyrics pulling you in. The final note lingers and you find yourself drawn to him, your faces mere inches apart.

The audience, sensing the electricity between the two of you, erupts in a frenzy of cheers, pulling you back to reality. You share a charged glance with Charles, the applause deafening.

The performance, though only a few minutes, feels like a lifetime. As you walk off stage, Charles wraps an arm around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “We did it.”

You bury your face in his chest, the heady mix of adrenaline and emotions making everything feel surreal. “We really did.”

***

“And the winner of the Eurovision Song Contest 2024 is ...” The host’s voice draws out, adding to the tension in the room, “Monaco!”

The words hit you like a tidal wave. The arena explodes in applause and cheers, bright lights flashing everywhere. Confetti starts to fall and the air is pure magic.

Charles, equally stunned, turns to you, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Is this real?” He breathes, pulling you into a tight embrace.

Overwhelmed, you cling to him, the weight of your accomplishment settling in. You won Eurovision.

Breaking the hug, Charles lifts you in sheer joy, spinning you around, the world blurring past. Both of you are laughing, tears of joy mingling with the glitter on your face.

As the celebrations continue, you spot the Italian competitors cheering raucously. Somehow, they’ve managed to pull out a Ferrari flag, waving it as proudly as if they had won.

Charles notices too, laughing. “They really do love their racing.”

You smirk, nudging him playfully. “Or maybe they just love their racer.”

The moment is interrupted as you’re whisked away for the winner’s interview and your encore. But the mania doesn’t stop the two of you from sharing stolen glances and smiles.

Later that night, as the euphoria begins to die down, Charles finds you on a balcony overlooking the city. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?” He murmurs, joining you by the railing.

You nod, taking a deep breath. “Winning was the dream. I didn’t think about what would come after.”

He chuckles, “You and me both.”

The night stretches before you, the city lights twinkling like stars. You lean into Charles, drawing comfort from his presence. “What now?”

He takes a moment to think. “Now, we take on the world together.”

***

“I wrote something last night,” Charles says hesitantly. The two of you sit in his apartment, the aftermath of your Eurovision win still a fresh memory.

You tilt your head, intrigued. “For the piano?”

He nods. “But it’s more personal than anything else I’ve composed. I was thinking ... maybe you could add lyrics to it?”

Curious, you watch as he moves to the piano he has against the wall, his fingers delicately dancing on the keys. The melody is raw, filled with emotion. It speaks of longing, of new beginnings, of unspoken feelings.

It’s beautiful.

“That’s incredible,” you breathe once he finishes.

He looks up, vulnerability evident in his eyes. “It's how I feel. About all of this. About you.”

The confession hangs in the air, a delicate thread connecting the two of you.

“I’ve been feeling the same,” you admit, your heart racing. “I wrote some lyrics too. But I didn’t have the melody for them. Maybe ...”

You share the words you penned down, the emotions you felt towards Charles clear as day. Together, the two of you create a song, a musical odyssey of the path you’ve walked together and the deepening connection between you.

Hours pass, the world outside forgotten. The song takes shape, evolving with every note and word.

Charles breaks the silence, his voice soft, “This is special.”

You nod, feeling the weight of the moment. “It is.”

He moves closer, the space between you disappearing. “Every moment with you is.”

Your heart flutters, the intensity of his gaze making you breathless. “Charles ...”

But he silences you with a gentle touch, his fingers brushing your cheek. The world seems to stand still as he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

It’s a new beginning, a promise of what’s to come.

***

“I’m so nervous,” you confess, wringing your hands. The roar of the crowd outside, waiting for the Monaco Grand Prix to begin, is deafening.

Charles pulls you into a comforting hug. “It’s just singing the national anthem. You’ve performed on much bigger stages.”

“But not in front of the entire racing community and Monegasque royalty,” you counter. The idea of serenading the beginning of Monaco’s most prestigious race, especially with Charles being one of the contenders, fills you with anxiety.

He smirks. “You’re worrying about a three-minute song when I have to race for nearly two hours?”

You punch his arm playfully, “Oh, hush. You love it too much to complain.”

His expression turns serious and he takes your hands in his. “It’s just like any other performance but this time, for our people. Focus on that.”

His words sink in. You’re not just singing for the crowd. You’re singing for Monaco. For Charles.

As you step out, the sun glints off the polished cars lined up for the race. The noise is deafening but one look at Charles, his eyes filled with pride, grounds you.

Drawing a deep breath, you begin. Your voice, clear and strong, rises above the commotion, capturing the spirit of Monaco. The crowd falls silent, lost in the beauty of the moment.

When you finish, the applause is thunderous. Charles rushes over, lifting you off the ground in a bear hug. “That was incredible,” he whispers in your ear.

You laugh, the tension from before dissipating. “Now go win the race.”

He winks. “Only if you promise to sing for me every time.”

***

“Do you ever think about what would’ve happened if I hadn’t tweeted that day?” Charles muses, lying next to you on a grassy hill overlooking the city. The stars twinkle above, the night air filled with the scent of blooming flowers.

You chuckle softly, turning to face him. “I would probably be preparing for another solo concert but not much would change for you. You’d still be busy reveling in your racing glory.”

He grins, playfully nudging you. “So you admit I brought excitement to your life?”

You roll your eyes. “Excitement, chaos, media frenzy ... take your pick.”

Silence settles between you two, comfortable yet filled with words unspoken. The city lights below seem distant, the world reduced to just this moment.

Charles breaks the silence. “I can’t imagine my life without you now.”

The vulnerability in his voice tugs at your heart. “Neither can I. It’s been a wild ride.”

He chuckles, pulling you closer. “A ride I would relive in a heartbeat.”

“Charles,” you begin, gathering your thoughts, “we’ve been through so much together and I cherish every moment. But we also need to think about our future. The media attention, the expectations ... it’s a lot.”

He nods, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I know. But we'll face it together. Like we have from the start.”

The promise in his voice fills you with warmth. “Together,” you echo, sealing the commitment.

***

“You’re not serious,” Silvia’s voice cuts through the room. “It’s the biggest sponsorship event of the season. For Ferrari! You can’t miss it.”

Charles looks torn, running a hand through his hair. “It’s Y/N’s first major solo concert. She’s been there for me, every step of the way. I need to be there for her.”

You feel a pang of guilt. “Charles, I understand the importance. If you can’t make it—”

He interrupts, looking you straight in the eyes. “This isn’t just about the concert. It’s about us. About our priorities.”

The room is thick with tension. On your side, Rosa, always the mediator, attempts to defuse the situation. “There must be a way to do both.”

Charles shakes his head resolutely. “I’ve made up my mind.”

Silvia looks at him, her eyes pleading. “You know the implications of this, right?”

He nods, swallowing hard. “I do. However mad the sponsor may be will be worth it.”

Later, the two of you find a quiet corner.

“You didn’t have to,” you whisper.

He pulls you close, his touch reassuring. “But I wanted to. More than anything.”

You look up, eyes glassy. “Why?”

“Because,” he starts, searching for the right words, “these races, these events ... they will always be there. But moments like your concert, they are once in a lifetime. And I don’t want to miss a single second of our journey together.”

The emotion of his words takes your breath away. “Charles ...”

He places a finger on your lips, silencing you. “I love you.”

The words hang in the air. Voice choked with emotion, you reply. “I love you too.”

***

“Do you ever think how surreal all of this is?” Charles murmurs, both of you backstage at the 2025 Eurovision finals, invited back as guest performers. The arena pulsates with excitement, the memories of your victorious performance still fresh in many minds.

You laugh, adjusting your dress. “Every single day. Especially today, coming full circle.”

He takes your hand, the spark between you as electric as ever. “It feels like just yesterday we were thrown into this wild ride.”

A stagehand signals that it’s almost time. The two of you take your positions, the familiar chords of your winning song filling the air. The audience roars in approval, their cheers echoing the joy of that fateful night.

As the final note lingers, you turn to Charles, preparing for the bows. But he isn’t sitting behind the piano. Instead, he’s down on one knee, a small velvet box in hand.

The realization hits you like a tidal wave, your hand flying to your mouth in shock.

Charles speaks loud enough for the world to hear, “From the moment we met, I knew my life had changed forever. I can’t imagine a day without you by my side. Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

Tears stream down your face, every emotion amplified. “Yes. I want that more than anything,” you manage to whisper.

He slips the ring onto your finger and the world fades away as his lips find yours. You see the Italian delegation cheering wildly out of the corner of your eye and can’t help but laugh. The hosts may have changed. The competitors may have changed. But the love of Italians for il Predestinato will always live on. They’ll have to get in line, though. You just officially claimed the title of his biggest fan.

[madcrazyworld]

Judgement Eurovision version 🎤🎶

[never-looked-so-good]

warm up for singapore and eurovision 🎤

📷 @/ch_leclerc16

[copperbadge]

Shivadhverse: REALLY enjoying your take on Eurovision. 🎼🎤🎸😎 Was it fun to research?

It was a blast to research! Even though I still got a lot of stuff...perhaps not wrong, but not quite right, either, initially.

I have a friend, @hinerdsitscat, who is super into Eurovision and has been for years, and this past year because we were in a chat together she started sharing links and offering insight into the show -- the initial national song releases and national finals, the pre-parties and semifinals, the grand final, all of it. I've always been interested in Eurovision, but especially as an American it's difficult to follow; there's just a lot of disparate information sources out there (although it is a lot easier now, because of the YouTube channel). So for me -- I can get really into certain media if I have access to the information, but I struggle to access the information when it's spread across a lot of sources. Her sharing made it easy for me to engage, and I started thinking about Askazer-Shivadlakia's entry and what that would look like.

So I did do research, but I also had a great resource at my fingertips; I could just run stuff by her and be like "Hey does this work", and sometimes I'd share a snippet and she'd point out something I either hadn't seen or wasn't aware of. Which made it really fun because I wasn't just doing straight-up research, I also had a human to talk to about it. (She is singlehandedly responsible for Davidson the RSBA rep.) 

If you're going to write a story about something that exists in real life and you aren't an expert, I highly recommend having someone who's a subject-matter expert that you can natter with. That's a fun time. :D

I am definitely at some point going to have to source someone who's super into European football for this football story, but at least for now my nerdery is sufficing. (Buck and Caleb actually get to have a fairly significant cameo in the football story, when Buck befriends the protagonist and becomes his erstwhile wingman. Buck reminds Caleb he is always invited to go out anytime Buck is going clubbing, and Caleb very lovingly says that he would rather drown slowly.)

[maniacprincessenergy]

Manifesting Australia re opening its Australia Decides National selection for Eurovision.

🎙️❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷🎸🤪😎🤩😱🤯👹😻🖕💋👂🗣️🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀👩‍🎤🧑‍🎤👨‍🎤👰‍♂️🤵‍♀️🦹‍♀️🧌🧛‍♀️🫄🫃🧏‍♂️💃🕺👨‍❤️‍👨👙👗👑🦁🦄🦋🦭🪽🪶💐💫⭐️🌟✨🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈💦🍆🍌🍒🍑🥚🥩🥩🥩🥩🍭🍸🥍🤸‍♂️🏆🏅🎖️🎤🥇🎫🎧🎼🎹🎺🎷🪘🪕🎻🪈🪗🎸🥁🚗✈️🚀🗿🏟️🌃🎥📷🎞️🕯️💎💣⚔️🔪🗡️🕳️💊🛍️🪆🎊🎉📯🪩✂️✂️‼️🎶🎵🔜🃏🔊🔔🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

If DCLA characters had Tumblr part 11 🕺🏼

🏳️‍🌈 creyendoenmi Follow

One time when I was in third grade, I randomly decided to pair up two people in my class. No real reason, I just wanted to see if it worked. So, I wrote a love letter to one of them and signed from the other. I put it on his shelf.

Now, here’s the thing: I accidentally left it on the wrong shelf. I left it on the shelf next to his. The girl who got it, she CLEARLY could read that it was adressed to him. But was she a normal person who realized it was put on the wrong shelf and gave it back? NO. She went to the TEACHER about this.

Now, uh… some extra context. I didn’t just write a love letter. I at first drew a picture of stick figures fighting, so that I would ”make him more interested”. And I guess this girl was shocked over the stick figures fighting.

The teacher recognized my handwriting I guess, and she confronted me about it. I was like ”my name is not even on it??” because, again, I was trying to pair up two people in my class, I pretended the love letter was from someone else. She didn’t believe me and was like ”tell me. Is it that you might have a crush on him? 😉” and I was like … ??? I signed it with someone else’s name, OBVIOUSLY I wanted to pair THEM up.

Also neither part of the two people I wanted to pair up ever found out about this. All because I put the goddamn letter on the wrong shelf and the girl who got it was a tattle tale who ruined everything

🌼 punk-not-dead Follow

Reminds me of when I was mad at someone and I decided to write a hateful letter that I put on her shelf. But then I was afraid it would come off as targeting, so I wrote letters to OTHERS too, INCLUDING TO MYSELF so that I would seem innocent.

✌🏼 arodarmivida Follow

You two are my idols.

17 notes

🌼 punk-not-dead Follow

When I have a kid I wanna raise them nonbinary, until they are old enough to decide a gender of their own, or not, or switch between different ones if that’s what they feel like! 🩷

🌼 punk-not-dead Follow

WOW this did not reach the right crowd…

1679 notes

🎤 singing-is-who-i-am Follow

Knowing lots of europeans they’ve been trying to get me to vote for their countries in Eurovision (since you can vote anywhere in the world nowadays).

Anyway, they are always like ”vote for Italy!! No, vote for Spain!!”

And like. At this point I tbh rather vote for Sweden.

🎀 italys-biggest-bow-collector Follow

Violetta if you DARE to vote for Sweden I will break up with you.

🎤 singing-is-who-i-am Follow

We are not dating?

🎀 italys-biggest-bow-collector Follow

I will break up with you as a friend.

Platonic breakup.

Period.

🌟 supernova-number-one Follow

Smooth.

10 notes

🎸 beanie-guitarist Follow

Stuff me and my childhood friends have performed on stage as kids:

- This unclear skit where we said a spell to turn me into Santa. I lost my last baby tooth during that.

- We sang ”best friend” by Toy Box. Or, ”sang”, we mimicked to it because we couldn’t speak english. We also didn’t know the implications of that song.

- We did an entire play all improvised. Everyone thought we had it scripted. It was the best thing we ever performed

- I wanted to be a magician for a while. She was my assistant. We did some pretty cool magic tricks

- We decided to roller skate on a small stage. It worked, but everyone was afraid we were gonna fall

- The microphone throwing incident™️

🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon Follow

I think of the microphone throwing incident often

🍓 chico-fresa Follow

And you’re not gonna tell us about that incident?

🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon Follow

Nope.

🎸 beanie-guitarist Follow

You had to be there.

67 notes

🌼 punk-not-dead Follow

I think two of my teachers are secretly fucking

🎤 singing-is-who-i-am Follow

If this is about my aunt and Pablo… then well. Yeah.

🌼 punk-not-dead Follow

NO THIS IS ABOUT PABLO AND GREGORIO

👩🏻‍🦱 dangerously-beautiful-ant Follow

HELP

🏍️ entre-dos-mundos Follow

DO NOT TELL DIEGO ABOUT THIS

#Please say he does not have a Tumblr #LUDMILA IF YOU SEE THIS DON’T YOU DARE SCREENSHOT AND SEND TO HIM

7 notes

✌🏼 arodarmivida Follow

Having your girlfriend also having been your best friend since middle school means she knows ALL about your awkward phases and moments… I cannot hide anything from her.

🏳️‍🌈 creyendoenmi Follow

I was even more cringe, come on.

We’re in this together🩷

🍓 chico-fresa Follow

I can imagine you two being even more cringe than what you are now. I’m glad I didn’t go through awkward phases or had embarrassing moments like everyone else in middle school.

💍 queenoftherink Follow

Remember when you fell on your roller skates while skating literally 10 meters per hour?

🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon Follow

AND HE TOLD ME HE NEVER EVER FELL AND THAT HE WAS ALWAYS PRO AT ROLLER SKATING.

🏳️‍🌈 creyendoenmi Follow

Matteo is just a clown thinking he knows everything

😎 rapmiro Follow

Hey! I don’t like you speaking to my friend like that! He is very good and he does know a lot!

✌🏼 arodarmivida Follow

Then marry him.

💍 queenoftherink Follow

Why do I bother joining your reblogs, it always takes some really weird turn-

🏳️‍🌈 creyendoenmi Follow

Admit it, Ámbar. You like it. You like seeing us cause a mess. You like it both irl and online. It’s only online that you can admit it.

💍 queenoftherink Follow

See I am this close to blocking all of you and also start a new Tumblr account because What is happening right now. What is the subject? Why are you like this?

🎸 beanie-guitarist Follow

Do you think god stays in heaven because he too lives in fear of what he’s created?

18 notes

🌟 supernova-number-one Follow

What do you do when you wake up with an… intimate dream about someone and you’ve never had any fantasy about them like that before

🎤 singing-is-who-i-am Follow

A hot tip is to not post it on Tumblr where everyone you know is following you, cause we are nosy.

🌟 supernova-number-one Follow

Not true! Everyone I know don’t even have Tumblr!

🎀 italys-biggest-bow-collector Follow

Don’t change the subject. We can and we will figure it out. Thanks for telling us!

90 notes

🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon Follow

Sometimes I look at my biological aunt and I am like. Wow. You knew me when I was a baby. Maybe you babysat me at some point.

Because she is just… this cold human who seems to hate everyone else. And to imagine she at some point probably had to watch me during the day while my parents needed to run some errands feels… SO weird.

🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon Follow

She’s also caught me in the most weirdest situations. I am lucky now that she can’t see me.

The other day I had a tampon up my nose while she was in her once per month hour visitation at our house. I walked inside the room she was in and noticed her there. I was stiff for a moment, feeling like I needed to explain myself.

She and I have a very strained relationship, but she tries to better herself. So she was like ”I know those footsteps… is it you, Luna?”

I was like ”Yeah…”

”How are you feeling?”

”Good…”

I was waiting for her to bring up the elephant in the room, and then I realized ”oh wait… she can’t see me…” and then I sighed in relief.

📸 felicityfornow Follow

But why DID you have a tampon up your nose?

🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon Follow

I got a nosebleed from accidentally punching myself when I tried to open a very hard cap on a bottle

📸 felicityfornow Follow

Ok, so why…

You know what? Sounds pretty reasonable. I’m also glad your aunt couldn’t see you, even if it’s also a bit tragic she can’t see…

👩🏻‍🦱 dangerously-beautiful-ant Follow

Sorry if this question is personal, and if it is you’re totally allowed to not reply. I am just curious: How did she lose her eyesight?

🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon Follow

She burned her eyes trying to burn the house down

👩🏻‍🦱 dangerously-beautiful-ant Follow

Oh. Well, I guess that explains why she only has an hour of visitation once a month. Thank you for replying.

24 notes

🍓 chico-fresa Follow

I have talked to several people that apparently did some really weird thing when they sat in the car as kids, and even still do it:

When sitting in the passenger seat, they apparently look out the window and... imagine this imaginary creature or imaginary human running next to the car, sliding on the railings, sometimes skateboarding/snowboarding... just doing all this strange parkour.

Why do you do this? It sounds super weird?

✌🏼 arodarmivida Follow

So when you look out the window on a car trip you just imagine nothing????????

🍓 chico-fresa Follow

Yeah? I just see what I see passing by, I don't think about a random imaginary creature doing parkour on stop signs and railings

🎸 beanie-guitarist Follow

You had a boring childhood, man. Life is so much more fun if you imagine the little things.

🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon Follow

When I was younger I even pretended imaginary people jumping between houses where I walked, or clung onto airplanes! xD

🍓 chico-fresa Follow

But like... why?

🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon Follow

BECAUSE IT'S FUN.

💍 queenoftherink Follow

Yeah, even I did this. Now, I imagine someone roller skating rather than running. I saw them skating on the road first and foremost at a car speed, and jumped at any obstacle. It helped me imagine new tricks I could do.

And yes, it was a lot of fun, too. It was an escapism for some of us who really needed some escapism to cope with our everyday life. A little warmth in the cold.

🍓 chico-fresa Follow

Well I guess I could get that, but I never had escapism. I just lived the way I lived and stayed in reality at all times.

🏳️‍🌈 creyendoenmi Follow

Sometimes I am hit with the reality that some people are not born with any imagination whatsoever. I pity them.

🍓 chico-fresa Follow

I have imagination!!! I just didn't imagine fake people doing parkour next to the car.

🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon Follow

But you have to admit your imagination is boring.

79 notes

🧢 everythingscominguponmaxi Follow

I had an interesting dream last night.

Apparently there was this philosophy that there was only one normal person that you knew. If you didn’t know anyone, you were the normal person.

This caused people to question what is normal and what is not.

🌼 punk-not-dead Follow

So there’s really only one normal person on earth?

🧢 everythingscominguponmaxi Follow

No, who is considered normal depends on the person, but the philosophy states that everyone only knows one normal person. For me it can be one person, but for you, who knows other people than me, might have another person in mind.

The question is now… who is the normal person in your life?

5000 notes

[eurovision-facts]

Eurovision Fact #456:

97% of the songs Spain has sent to the Eurovision Song Contest have been in Spanish.

[Source]

Spain's Eurovision Legacy has come a long way! Let's dive into the numbers! 💃🎤🇪🇸 #EurovisionSpain, YouTube.com.

[indimlights]

Me at 17yo: Watched Eurovision📚

Silia at 17yo: Is IN Eurovision 🎤

[bates--boy]

ARE YOU READY FOR EUROVISION! 🥳 🎊 🎤 🎶

"Nah, I'm skipping it this year."

[sushis4kalyo]

Mika - Medley [Love Today / Grace Kelly / Yo-Yo / Happy Ending] 🎤

Eurovision 2022 - Interval Act

Il ne faut pas oublier que l'Eurovision 2022, c'était aussi Mika qui a réveillé tout le monde pendant l'interval act ! C'est que du bonheur pour les yeux et les oreilles !

Suite à ce post' je me suis improvisé un petit karaoké sur Grace Kelly. J'ai plus de voix mais je me suis éclatée !

[iamdjgordon]

Some more cheeky Eurovision and Liverpool highlights 🎤🕺🏻

[ursulawhosoever]

Eurovision #final 🎤🎶💃🏾🎉

[residentraccoon]

for the music shuffle ask meme: 💡❤️🎬🎤🤡 :3

Music shuffle ask game

Gotta use my old eurovision playlist since I have a mini brainrot with old esc songs rn lol

Lena Valaitis - Johnny Blue (Germany 1981)

💡 - Do you associate the song with something? If yes, what?

Yeah! I had a friend who really loved this song, his name is Johnny (or like...the Romanian version of it) and his fave color is blue, so obviously when I discovered this song I immideately showed it to him. He's also studying German so that was a really cool coincidence lmao. We kind of fell out of touch after we started college so we don't talk that much anymore, but yeah, whenever I listen to this I think of him. Miss u bro...

❤️ - What’s your favorite line(s)?

"Auf der alten Gitarre

Die ihm jemand schenkte

Da spielte er, sie war sein Freund

Seine Lieder, die klangen

Nach Hoffnung und Freude

Und manchmal, als ob jemand weint"

Translation:

"On the old guitar

That somebody gave him

He played, it was his friend

His songs, they sounded

Of hope and joy

And sometimes as if someone was crying"

Like dude, the lyrics are so profound and emotional, this is such a masterpiece song fr....

🎬 - If you scripted/directed a music video for this song what would it look like?

Honestly I have no idea. I think the live performance is enough?

🎤 - Would you sing this song for karaoke?

Only the first verses, beyond that nope.avi)))) My German is literally 0 but thanks to that respective friend I've talked about earlier I can at least sing the first few verses

🤡 - Describe the song in the worst way possible

Campfire emotional song about a kid named Johnny (and something about blue)

[zeitenklaenge]

#️⃣1️⃣1️⃣7️⃣

🍷🐒

🎶 VOILÀ • 🎤 Barbara Pravi

💬🇫🇷 — Video by Natasha on 18th December 2022

💿 «On n‘enferme pas les oiseaux»

EUROVISION 2021 in Rotterdam - FRANCE - 2nd Place - 499 Pts.