#i swear this lyrics are better in romanian

[ancstvsivs]

━━━━━━━━━━ * { HSHQTASK30: COUNTRY’S PLAYLIST }

impar — mark stam; lista de păcate — liviu teodorescu; sare coarda — liviu teodorescu ft. nosfe; solo — mario fresh; maraton — the motans; uit de tine — mira; vina mea — mark stam; ascultă — liviu teodorescu. { listen here }

1. IMPAR ———  ODD ( as in odd numbers, reffering to number one )

RO: nu e ritm, nu e dans, nu e foc, nu-i extaz. stai în fața mea și aștepți să fac eu al doilea pas. o fac să te conduc spre ușă, oare nu vezi că-s din cenușă?

nu e sex, nu e gaz, nu e chef, nu e haz. stai în fața mea și aștepți să fac eu al doilea pas. sunt viu doar pe jumătate oare nu vezi că-s impar?

EN: it’s not rhytm, it’s not dance, it’s not fire, you stay in front of me and wait for me to make the next move. i’m walking you to the door, don’t you see i’m made of ash?

it’s not sex, it’s not gas, it’s not mood, it’s not fun. you stay in front of me and wait for me to make the next move. i’m only half-alive, don’t you see i’m odd?

2. LISTA DE PĂCATE ——— THE LIST OF SINS

RO: nu râvnește la ceva ce-i al altcuiva. prea cuminte s-o auzi mințind chipul ei pare cioplit, înger ratacit prea curată să o vezi iubind. dar, în buzunar la spate are o listă de păcate și când se face noapte o să trecem prin toate haine aruncate cu gesturi disperate o listă de păcate o să trecem prin toate

EN: she doesn’t crave for what belongs to someone else too innocent to hear her lying her face seems carved, lost angel too pure to see her loving. but in her backpocket she carries a list of sins and when the night sets we’ll get through them all. clothes thrown off with desperate gestures a list of sins we’ll get through them all.

3. SARE COARDA ——— JUMP ROPE

RO: când intră beatul, sare coarda are probleme cu mansarda de-a v-ați ascunselea prin patul tău îți face bine până-ți vine rău.

dimineața joacă șotron pe nervii mei iar până seara mă face avion de hârtie îi împrumută lui cupidon săgețile și mă atinge la corazon, otrava ei d’are ceva ce mă ține încă în preajma ei are un fel de a ma privi, are vraja ei ceva ce mă ține departe de alte femei cel mai tare mă rupe reacția ei

EN: when the beat comes on, she jumps the rope she has bats in her belfry playing hide and seek in your bed she’s good for you until she makes you sick.

she plays hopscotch on my nerves in the morning and she makes me a paper airplane until evening she borrows cupidon’s arrows and her poison touches me to the heart but she has something that keeps me by her side she has her way of looking at me, her spell something that keeps me away from other women her reaction breaks me the most.

4. SOLO ——— SOLO

RO: vorbeam de sentimente, de suflete pereche toate au fost în zadar. vorbeam de sentimente, tu m-ai pus la perete m-ai condamnat la singuratate.

solo și s-ar putea să mor de dor, eu de-aia sunt solo nu mai am inimă, am un cub de gheață acolo.

pentru tine aș fi mutat munții din loc baby, pentru tine, aș fi trecut prin apă și foc pentru tine aș fi mutat munții din loc baby, pentru tine, aș fi trecut prin apă și foc.

EN: we were talking about feelings, soulmates it was all for nothing. we were talking about feelings, you pinned me to a wall and condemned me to loneliness. solo and i might die from this pain, i that’s why i’m solo i don’t have a heart anymore, there’s an ice cube in its place

i would’ve moved mountains for you baby, i would’ve walked through water and fire for you i would’ve moved mountains for you baby, i would’ve walked through water and fire for you

5. MARATON ——— MARATHON 

RO: am privirea ta in buclă, mă apropii de bucluc. gândul c-am avut vreo șansă nu-mi dă șansa să te uit. am să cad din piesă-n piesă dacă asta ne-a fost scris, tu iartă-mă că mi-am permis să fiu un pic mai indecis. am lăsat ușa deschisă cu tot cu chei în ea, nu am salutat vecinii așa cum obișnuiam. cu sufletul la gură, grăbit ca niciodată, alerg spre tine, cu inima mea șchioapă. cu inima mea șchioapă să mai încerc o dată, cu inima mea șchioapă să te iubesc până la capăt cu inima mea șchioapă. dragostea nu e la modă, nu iubesc după sezon, ai țintit perfect în piept și m-ai inscris la maraton. pe un traseu necunoscut, grăbit ca niciodată, alerg spre tine, cu inima mea șchioapă.

cu inima mea șchioapă să mai încerc o dată, cu inima mea șchioapă să te iubesc până la capăt cu inima mea șchioapă. 

acum ori niciodată, neîntrebat de soartă, să te iubesc până la capăt cu inima mea șchioapă.

EN: i have your gaze in the loop i get closer to trouble the thought that we had a chance won’t give me the chance to forget you. i will fall from song to song if this was written for us forgive me, for i allowed myself to be a little indecisive. i left the door unlocked along with the keys in it i didn’t greet the neighbours like i used to. out of breath hurrying more than ever i run to you with my crippled heart

with my crippled heart to try again sometime with my crippled heart to love you until the end. with my crippled heart love isn’t fashionable i don’t love by season you aimed perfectly to my chest and signed me up for the marathon. on an unknown route, hurrying more than ever i run to you with my crippled heart.

with my crippled heart to try again sometime with my crippled heart to love you until the end. with my crippled heart

now or never, unasked by fate, to love you until the end, with my crippled heart.

6. UIT DE TINE ——— FORGET ABOUT YOU

RO: când ai plecat cred că mi-ai luat tot. încă mai zâmbesc, nu știu cum, da' pot. în locu' ăsta pierd nopțile fără somn că nu se vede durerea sub lumini de neon. dacă stau în pat o să mor de dor, la oglindă mă îmbrac, îmi spun din nou haide fata dansează, nu contează cu cine. sincer.. sunt aici să uit de tine, să mă pierd departe în mulțime. sunt aici să uit de tine, să mă mint într-una că mi-e bine.

EN: when you left, i think you took all i had i don’t know how, but i can still smile. in this place i waste many sleepless nights ‘cause you can’t see the pain under neon lights. if i stay in bed, i’ll die of this pain, i get dressed in the mirror, i tell myself come on, girl, dance, it doesn’t matter with who. honestly.. i’m here to forget about you, to get lost in the crowds. i’m here to forget about you, to lie to myself that i’m alright.

7. VINA MEA ——— MY FAULT

RO: și ard cu o mie de vise pe minut tot ce-am planuit s-avem, dar n-am avut și te simt acut e vina mea, vina mea că eu sunt așa e vina mea, tu să mă străpungi cu ea să bați la nesfârșit în inima care s-a oprit e vina mea, vina mea că eu sunt așa e vina mea și te las tu să mă străpungi cu ea sa bați la nesfârșit în inima care s-a oprit

trei metri mai jos de podea, îngropăm noi minciuna, eu tot simt ceva cu lacrimi în ochi, te-ascunzi în sine

sufoci în palmă fluturii hrăniți de mine și-arunci din mâna ta umbra tăiata de la forma ce-ți spunea ăsta e el, butonul pentru detonare iar tu-l apeși știind că o să doară tare.

EN: you can offer me the sky you can offer me your eyes if you want to but you won’t see the emptiness in my gaze you can give me yours tears let them run down my neck like a knife and drown me while you’re crying next to me.

and i burn with a thousand dreams all we planned to have but never got and i feel you deeply it’s all my fault, my fault that i’m like this it’s all my fault, pierce me with it knock endlessly in my heart that doesn’t beat three feet underneath the floor, we’re burying the lie, i still feel something with tears in your eyes, you hide from yourself.

in your hands, you kill the butterflies i fed and you throw awaythis is it, the button for detonation and you press it even though you know how badly it will hurt.

8. ASCULTĂ ——— LISTEN.

RO: hai, lasă garda jos, te rog, ascultă-mă nu știu ce-a fost în capul meu dacă te ajută, hai, te rog, insultă-mă azi sunt dispus să-ndur orice ea nu e cu nimic mai bună decat tine nici eu nu-nțeleg de ce îti cer iertare, da' până o sa mă ierți tu ar trebui să mă iert eu vreo zece shot-uri date mult prea repede câteva fumuri trase fără pauze mintea mea tulburată, putea fi orice fată și am picat deodată ascultă, știu că ți-am rupt inima ascultă, știu că-i greu să poți ierta ascultă, stau aici, în fața ta să-mi recapat liniștea numai cu iertarea ta nu s-a schimbat nimic, nimic din tot ce simt îți jur că a ramas la fel aș vrea doar să-mi vorbești, aș vrea doar să privești adânc în sufletul meu

iertarea ta, iertarea ta să fiu în locul tău, nu ştiu dacă aş putea iertarea ta, iertarea ta să dau timpu'-napoi nu ştii cât de mult aş vrea iertarea ta, iertarea ta aş plăti oricât vrei pentru greşeala mea pentru greşeala mea cum să renunţ la noi?

EN: come on, let your guard down, please listen to me i don’t know what was in my mind and if it helps then please, hurt me today, i’m willing to do anything. she’s not even better than you and i can’t understand why i’m asking for your forgiveness but first i need to forgive myself ten shots downed way too quick a few smokes dragged without breath my mind is troubled, it could’ve been any girl and i suddenly fell. listen, i know i broke your heart listen, i know it’s hard to forgive listen, i’m right here, in front of you to regain my peace of mind with your forgiveness. nothing has changed, not in the way i feel i swear it’s all the same i want you to talk to me, i want you to look deeply in my soul.

your forgiveness, your forgiveness if i were you, i don’t know if i could your forgiveness, your forgiveness to turn back time, you have no idea but i would your forgiveness, your forgiveness i’d pay anything for my mistake for my mistake how could i give up on us?

[drum-cu-naluci]

I'm still not used to the new themes. I kinda want to ask you all of them.

Me neither, it's like my blog grew up and became mature over night and I wasn't ready for this

Anyway,

1. favourite place in your country?

I didn't visit much so I don't have a fancy tourist destination. I like any village that wasn't touched by the mania of villas. Ciolănești is a good example. Not perfect, but good.

2. do you prefer spending your holidays in your country or travel abroad?

Here. Unless someone sponsors me for a trip to Italy but I want to see more of here.

3. does your country have access to sea?

The Black Sea, yes.

4. favourite dish specific for your country?

N0, I've tried, I rly did, but I just can't like our food. I can't eat it without feeling bad after anyway😭

5. favourite song in your native language?

MANY but try this

6. most hated song in your native language?

By me? Thank you very much for asking. I lost count on them. We really don't know how to make music. I can't pick one God damn song I hate because they're so many who sound the same, have the same motif and I can hardly tell the singers as they all look almost the fucking same.

7. three words from your native language that you like the most?

Fă, cerdac, cișmea. I didn't even know I had a special affinity for these lol. They don't mean big thing but I like how they sound. The last to I mean the first is just Romanian Yo.

8. do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom?

Not really. Some took me for gypsy if that counts 😂😂

9. which of your neighbouring countries would you like to visit most/know best?

Ukraine lmao

10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

FUTU-ȚI [blank] like Fuck your [something]

11. favourite native writer/poet?

I don't know I didn't read much of our literature it just didn't get to me. I mean, do song lyrics count as poetry because then Byron.

12. what do you think about English translations of your favourite native prose/poem?

I could do it better if I knew more words.

13. does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders?

It's red cross in the calendar? Don't clean don't bath don't sew don't do any work like this. It's Christmas? You mean Orthodox Midsommar for Ghiță. Mushrooms grew in straight line? Ielele danced there. [you weren't invited you're not cool enough]

14. do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV?

Hell yes, we're getting better especially at comedies

15. a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get?

16. which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with?

WE'RE NOT ALL THIEVES

We're a bit communist that's true.

17. are you interested in your country’s history?

Absolutely. I just can't remember shit.

18. do you speak with a dialect of your native language?

Like accent? No😂 not this region, any other would have a loud accent in English as they have in Romanian

If that's what this one means.

19. do you like your country’s flag and/or emblem? what about the national anthem?

We need something on that plain ass flag. Make Romania fancy again. The national anthem is ok. We can do better.

20. which sport is The Sport in your country?

Football. Like the actual foot ball where the foot only interacts with the ball

21. if you could send two things from your country into space, what would they be?

Iliescu and Arafat

22. what makes you proud about your country? what makes you ashamed?

It's fucking awesome the more you learn about it but the mentality is still I don't want to talk about it, it gets me irrationally angry lol

23. which alcoholic beverage is the favoured one in your country?

Țuică în sus, țuică în jos, pălincă în stânga, bere în dreapta.

24. what other nation is joked about most often in your country?

No one escapes us. You're all mocked here. Roasted like a chicken forgotten in the oven.

25. would you like to come from another place, be born in another country?

Well, I mean, I don't make the rules. I take what I get.

26. does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal?

THAT ACCENT IS RUSSIAN AND MOLDAVIAN STOP MAKE ROMANIANS SPEAK WITH THAT ACCENT or any other. Also there's not enough credit for our magic and other rituals that could really make a good show.

27. favourite national celebrity?

I've never thought I'd have one lol I need to think this through. Cabral is fun. I can't go through these and not mention Marius Manole, the hell.

28. does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites?

Oho, yes. I love the mountains I can see from Bucharest. I feel like some Gatsby looking over the lake at something so close yet too hard to reach. *dark academia moment*

29. does your region/city have a beef with another place in your country?

No we're all united against the Hungarians I think

30. do you have people of different nationalities in your family?

By alliance I know of a Polish and a Hungarian.

That went well. Thank you 😂😂

[zaddywilk]

Tease

Florian Munteanu x black!reader

Word count- 3,357 (whoops, I may have gone a little overboard)

A/N- This is the first smut I’ve written in a very long time. Please be gentle 🥺

Warnings- 18+ Smuttttt, overstimulation, teasing (is that even a warning?), fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (don’t be a fool, wrap your tool).

Florian. Fucking. Munteanu.

Your boyfriend has no reason to be looking that damn good right now.

A slew of dirty thoughts ran through your mind as you continue to look at him while he got dressed. Thinking about how bad you wanted to stay in and not even go to the dinner you planned with your friends. No matter how good your manz looks, you know can’t break a promise.

You got out of bed and slipped on your new Savage X Fenty lingerie set and Fashion Nova black velvet dress you got the other day. You knew this dress would be perfect solely because Flo loves him some damn velvet.

https://www.fashionnova.com/collections/velvet/products/sugar-coat-velvet-dress-black

Once you were done putting on your makeup, heels, and fixing your curls, your boyfriend was now the one staring at you in admiration and a smidge of lust. Hazel eyes a little darker as he came up behind you to pepper soft kisses on your neck while he wrapped his arms around you.

“You look absolutely delicious, Prinţesă.” He said nuzzled in your neck as he gripped you tighter, eyes boring into yours.

Even in heels your boyfriend still towered over you like the giant he is. You sighed softly and closed your eyes as he went over that one spot he knew you loved so much, “Oh yeah? Are you hungry, baby?” You reply as you turn around and hook your arms around his neck, nails playing with the short hair he’d been growing out. The look in his eyes says it all. You guys might not make it to dinner after all. But you had another idea in mind.

“Then we better get going! Can’t keep them waiting. Plus, I haven’t even all day and I’m starving.” You said nonchalantly while you turned around to grab your purse as if you didn’t just get this man on brick mode in 2 seconds. Flo just looks at you in disbelief for a moment, mouth slightly agape but silently follows you to the car.

Ever the gentleman he is, he opens the passenger door for you, slapping your ass as you get into the car. You started thinking about your action plan for the night. Since Flo was usually the one to tease you while you were out and about, hand on your thigh, whispering in your ear, you figured it was time for a little role reversal. Connecting your phone to the car’s Bluetooth, you pull up your ‘Stripper Songs 💃🏽’ playlist, put your hand on Flo’s knee and settle in as Florian drives away.

Dance for you by Beyoncé came up on shuffle and you initiated your game plan. Singing along to the song you made sure to look directly at Florian as the lyrics tumbled off your tongue with ease. Grinding and rolling lightly in the seat as you not so subtly moved your hand up further his thigh. Florian’s eyes switch between the road and your movements. As he approached a red light you unbuckled your seatbelt and got next to his ear as you lowly sang along to the song.

Loving you is really all that's on my mind

And I can't help but to think about it day and night

I wanna make that body rock, sit back and watch

Tonight I wanna dance for youuuu

You made sure to drag out the ‘you’ while you ran your hand over your boyfriend’s hardening length as you slipped back into your seat. Flo was silent. Still flicking his eyes between you and the road as the light changed, jaw clenching and he gripped the steering wheel tighter. You smirked to yourself. This is going to be a fun night.

You guys finally pulled up to the restaurant your best friend Denise texted you the address to. Seems kinda boujee on the outside but you excitedly unbuckled your seatbelt nonetheless. Florian was right behind you, hand almost covering the entirety of your ass as you both stepped inside. The ambiance was classy, but not too serious. You scanned the room to find your friends and finally landed on the sight of Denise once you see her bright red bob. You pulled Flo over to your friends as Denise got up from the table to greet you guys.

You and Denise have been friends for years, meeting once you moved to LA to pursue your acting career, D was one of the only few people to be truly nice to you, eventually having you meet Michael and through Michael you met Flo. You gave a hug to both of your friends as you sat in the chair Florian had pulled out for you. You placed your hand on his leg again and you guys chatted for a bit, looking over the menu when the waiter came over and asked if you’d like some drinks to start off. Florian and Michael being the designated drivers, decided to opt for water while you and Denise settled on some Rosé and then you ordered your food.

Once your food got to the table your group conversation expectedly split off into two different conversations. One between the guys and one between the girls. While the guys were talking about their acting plans after Creed II, you had slid your hand a little further up Florian’s thigh. He jumped a little and stuttered in conversation because you had kept your hand in one place for so long, he had basically forgotten about it.

“Yo man, are you good?” Michael asked, seemingly confused.

“Oh yeah, just caught a little chill.” Florian responds, gripping your hand under the table. You stifle your laughter at his response as Denise continues her story about how she almost unknowingly auditioned for a porn film.

“So I got dressed up, went to this “audition”, saw the casting couch and felt a weird sense of déjà vu.”

“Hol up, D. How you know about the casting couch?” Michael asked.

Denise groaned, “Women can watch porn too, Jordan.”

As they continued their conversation about whether or not women watch porn, you continued going higher and higher on Flo’s thigh until you reached his length. He was hard.

Very hard.

Upon this realization you whispered in Flo’s ear, “Sometimes when you’re away and busy with interviews, I look at porn with guys that look like you,” you started as you palm him. “Tall, bearded, and muscular, although not as big and thick as you are. I get so wet just thinking about what you’d do to me if you had walked in on me playing with YOUR pussy. My fingers and toys don’t even compare to the real thing. I love it when you have me pinned down to the bed with your strong arms. I love how your beard feels in between my thighs. I love when you talk dirty to me in Romanian, not even using your voice but spelling out the words on my clit with your tongue. I could swear I died and went to Heaven.” You whisper.

“Eu iubesc mai ales când mă tratezi ca pe o doamnă în public, apoi mă futi ca o pornstar când ajungem acasă. Știu exact de ce te numesc Big Nasty.” That sent shivers up Florian’s spine. He knew you’d been practicing Romanian but he didn’t expect you to be so filthy so soon. He decided that that was the final straw. He takes out his wallet and throws his black card on the table as he takes your hand and stands up to leave.

“Woah woah Flo, you’re leaving? You’re not even done with your food.” Michael exclaimed unbelievably. A guy as big as Florian never leaves a plate with food on it.

“I have more pressing matters to attend to. Ask for boxes if you can and bring that and my card back to me tomorrow.” Flo said hurriedly, trying to conceal his straining dick as you gathered your purse and quickly said goodbye to D. And just like that, you were out the door.

“Damn, I wonder what’s gotten into him.”

“Negro are you dumb? It’s not what gotten into him but what’s about to get into Y/N,” Denise said, not even trying to hold back her laughter. “Oh well, homegirls gonna get dicked down and we get a free meal. I think this is a win win situation.”

Florian rushes back home, taking every opportunity he can to go as fast as possible. Normally, you’d be dreading the impending night you’d have for teasing Flo like that in front of your friends but right now you don’t care. Maybe it was the wine or the Fifty Shades of Grey soundtrack playing but you were extremely excited.

You got home not so surprisingly fast but surprisingly without a ticket. You rushed inside with Florian hot on your heels. Giggling as you made your way up the stairs, Florian catching up to you as he softly pushes you on the bed you open your legs a little wider to make room for him. “So Prinţesă, you think it’s funny to tease me like that while we’re with our friends? You’ve been a very bad girl since before we left. But instead of punishing you, you’re lucky I feel very giving. And plus, we missed out on dessert, so I’m still hungry.” Florian spoke lowly.

He pulled you down to the edge of the bed by your ankles and lifted up your dress. Even through your panties, he could tell that you were soaking wet. “You look absolutely mouth watering, Dragă.” He quickly said before ripping your lingerie. Your brand fucking new lingerie. You had half a mind to cuss his ass out but all thoughts went out the window as he put his mouth on you. A brief face of upset turned into a face displaying absolute pleasure. You quickly brought one hand to the back of his head as the other was brought up to your chest, slipping inside your dress to play with your nipples as Florian continued to work his wonderful mouth on you.

“F-Fuckkk Flo! More, please.” You moaned loudly. “Mai Mult? Orice pentru tine, prințesă.” Florian replied as he got his fingers wet with your juices. He slowly entered you, wasting no time going directly to your g-spot. You arched your back as you released a string of curses mixed with his name. His eyes never left you. He thought you looked absolutely gorgeous right now. Your chest heaving, your head tilted back, eyes screwed shut, mouth open letting cute little sounds out along with your wondrous moans while grinding your pussy on his face. All this had him rutting into the sheets because seeing you get off got him off.

He added another finger and you could swear you were done for. Between the magic words he was whispering on your clit, the humming, the insane sharp shooting accuracy this man had with your g-spot, and the consistent eye contact, it would be any second now. “Vă pot spune cât de aproape sunteți, iubirea mea. Ți-ar plăcea cum? Faceți o mizerie pe mea fața și degetele, prințesă. Știu că asta vrei tu, dragă.” Florian said sweetly as he went back to work. You didn’t understand half of that sentence but it was enough to push you over the edge. Your legs shook as your hips buck wildly against your boyfriend as he kept licking and sucking up all you had to offer him but removing his fingers.

You shuddered as he continued. Head moving side to side as his tongue’s assault on your clit never let up, causing you to start to cum yet again. “Don’t-fuck, don’t stop! Oh God! Flo! I’m- I’m about to-.” a squeal escaped you as you clenched on nothing. Your second orgasm had you almost seeing stars. After cleaning you up again, he removed his lips from your clit and kissed up your body, removing the dress and bra you still had on. He looked at you hungrily for a moment before he attacked your lips as he palmed one of your breasts and tweaked your nipple. Removing his lips from yours, he focuses on littering your neck and collarbones with kisses and bites as his hand returns to back down to your clit, still sensitive from your powerful previous orgasms. You try to warn him about this but he ignores your unsuccessful attempt to get him to stop, instead, he goes faster. This orgasm coming a lot faster than the other due to your increased sensitivity but it was just as powerful. Leaving you a shaking panting mess beneath your boyfriend.

“That’s it, Dragă mea. You’re being so good for me. But I know you have a couple more in you by the way you were acting tonight.” Florian cooed softly in your ear as your panting lessened. Your eyes were heavy and your body was weak already. You were already ready to tap out, but mama ain’t raised no bitch so you try to keep up with your boyfriend’s evil intentions. He stood up to take off his pants and shirt and gently massaged your legs as he laid down on the bed, ushering you on top of his length. This man made you cum so hard just using his mouth and fingers you had almost forgot he had brought dick with him too.

He helped you raise up slightly as he pushed the tip into you, hissing at your tightness and extreme wetness. You fell forward a little on his chest as he entered you. Filling you up deliciously, it was almost unbearable. He helped guide you up and down his dick because he knew you couldn’t do it by yourself. His tip brushing over your g-spot over and over had you moaning his name repeatedly like it was the only word you knew. “That’s right baby, fuck, you feel so good for me. So fucking wet and tight for Daddy. I feel you squeezing my dick, are you close again baby?.” He asked as he kept bringing you down on his dick, harder and faster each time than the one before. At this point you couldn’t even properly speak because of the pleasure that was enveloping you so you just nodded and continued trying your best to ride him. He apparently didn’t like that because he slapped your ass and held your hips tight and he fucked up into you. You started moaning louder and louder, trying to string together a somewhat coherent sentence.

“D-Daddyyyy. I’m so close. I’m gonna cum-mm. Can I please cum? Please?” You begged, hips rotating as Florian continues to pound into you. “Go ahead, Prințesa. Cum on this dick, you’re doing so well for me.” Florian praises as he brings you back down on his length one last time, bringing your body close to his as you ride out the aftershocks your fourth orgasm.

He laid you down on the bed, a sweaty, shaking mess. But he still wasn’t done with you. “Flo baby, I, I don’t know how much more I can take.” You panted, trying to see if you can just go with four for the night.

“Uh-uh, Dragă, I know you have one more in you. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

Florian kissed your lips softly as he entered you slowly, making sure to be cautious of your very heightened sensitivity. Slow, deep thrusts that made your toes curl with every stroke he delivered as he placed kisses all over your exposed chest. Soft moans exchanged between the both of you as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

You guys made love often but this felt completely different. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it but you felt completely wrapped in blanket of love and protection. Your hands on his face, legs around his waist, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. It gave you a new feeling. It made you feel warm, loved, and cherished. You loved this feeling.

Not only that, you could feel your orgasm approaching again. You moan rather loudly as you warn your boyfriend. You feel him twitch inside you and know that he’s close as well. He starts rubbing your clit as you rack your brain trying to piece together the last few words you know in Romanian that you know will send you both over the edge. You look deep into his eyes as your nails rake down his back.

“Sunt pe cale să cum. Te rog să mă completezi. Te iubesc. Am nevoie de tine. Vă rog. Vino cu mine.”

And with that utterance, Florian spills into you. The feeling of his warmth inside you coupled with him rubbing your clit was enough to push you over the edge one last time. Breathing heavily, you both let out a happy, euphoric sigh as you came down from your respective highs.

After a minute or two Florian moved off of you to grab a wet washcloth to clean you up, making sure to be careful. He also grabbed your makeup wipes and bonnet to help you get ready for bed because he knew you definitely wouldn’t be able to walk to the bathroom and do it yourself.

Once you were both cleaned up, he laid back beside you, stroking your arm as you started to drift into a peaceful slumber. Before dozing off you mumbled something he almost couldn’t make out, but once he did he gave a light chuckle in response.

“Remind me to tease you like that again If that’s what’s gonna happen.”

And just like that, you both were out like a light.

You woke up to your phone going off. 2 missed phone calls from Michael, a missed FaceTime call and 3 missed messages from Denise. You started to read the messages when another call from Denise started to come through.

“Hello?”

“Girl we’ve been callin yo ass for the past 10 minutes.”

“Sorry, I just woke up.” You look behind you to your sleeping boyfriend, the gentle giant, still snoozing peacefully.

“Damn bitch it’s 12:30, y’all left at 10. He really put it down on you last night, huh? Details later. We’re outside with your stuff, come get it.”

“Okay, I’ll be down in a min.” You hung up and drug yourself out of bed and almost fell to the floor with the first step you took. Your legs were like complete Jell-O. “D has no idea how right she was.” You chuckled to yourself. You put on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of Flo’s gym shorts as you make your way to the door.

You finally made it down the stairs and to the door to be greeted by your two friends. You stood and talked for a couple minutes before you started to feel your legs buckle again. Before Denise has the chance to comment about your sexual conquest, you grab the boxes of food, Florian’s card, and told her you talk to her later. Quickly closing the door and hearing her laughter from the other side you make your way to the couch.

“Was that Michael and Denise?” You heard Florian ask as he can down the stairs clad in some black sweatpants. How can he manage to look so fine just waking up? You question internally.

“Yeah, dropping off our stuff.” You say as you give him the food to put away with a good morning peck.

You start to relax in the sofa until you hear Florian in the kitchen.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” He yelled, causing you to jump a little.

“What? What is it baby?” You asked, concern in your voice.

“This damn bill is $200! Looks like D and Michael got another entree to take home and dessert after we left.”

You didn’t even try to hold back your laughter because that sounds exactly like something they’d do. As you watched him head back upstairs to call and tell off Michael, you turned on the T.V. and pulled out your phone to Google ‘Wheelchair stores near me’ because you know you’ll need one for the rest of the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Prinţesă- Princess

Eu iubesc mai ales când mă tratezi ca pe o doamnă în public, apoi mă futi ca o pornstar când ajungem acasă. Știu exact de ce te numesc Big Nasty- I especially love when you treat me like a lady in public, then fuck me as a pornstar when we get home. I know exactly why you're called Big Nasty.

Dragă- Darling

Mai Mult? Orice pentru tine, prințesă- More? Anything for you, princess

Vă pot spune cât de aproape sunteți, iubirea mea. Ți-ar plăcea cum? Faceți o mizerie pe mea fața și degetele, prințesă. Știu că asta vrei tu, dragă- I can tell you how close you are, my love. Would you like that? Make a mess on my face and fingers, princess. I know that's what you want, darling.

Sunt pe cale să cum. Te rog să mă completezi. Te iubesc. Am nevoie de tine. Vă rog. Vino cu mine- I'm about to cum. Please fill me up. I love you. I need you. Please. Come with me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@bluestarego @lotusss-flowerbomb @savvy-ivvory @amelatonin @melanated-writersblock @blackvscogirl @atyourbestyouareluv @blowmymbackout @melinda-january @munteanhore @melaninmarvel @honeychicana @tgigoldie

[pengychan]

[Good Omens] Winging It - James 4:11

Summary: Shockingly, attempting to destroy an angel without consulting God first comes with consequences. There is more than one way to fall, and a thousand more ways to inconvenience an angel and a demon who just wanted to be left in peace. Characters: Gabriel, Crowley, Aziraphale, Beelzebub, Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon Rating: T  

Prologue and all chapters are tagged as ‘winging it’ on my blog.

A/N: This chapter is longer than usual because I added a full page of fluff between Crowley and Aziraphale that has little to nothing to do with the rest. But I left it where it is ‘cause Christmas, I guess, and you really cannot count on Ineffable Bureaucracy for fluff. 

***

The angel Gabriel from heaven came His wings as drifted snow His eyes as flame...

“Of all songs, did they have to pick this one?”

“Hah! Don’t like Sting?”

Something did sting all right and, as a matter of fact, he did not like that, but Gabriel knew better than to explain why those words - a song about his most well-known task and the mention of his wings, which had been white as drifted snow except for the faint purplish tint of the primary feathers  - made him wish he could shut himself in a dark, quiet place for a century or two or twenty. 

“You could say that,” Gabriel finally muttered, mildly thankful of the fact the background noise in the pub made it easy enough to shut out the lyrics if he didn’t focus on it too much. 

Daniel shrugged. “I don’t mind it. But maybe we’ve just had it up to here with Christmas songs by now. I swear that every year they start playing them earlier and earlier. We were just through Halloween and bam, Christmas. I swear I’ve been hearing jingles ever since.”

Ah, yes. Halloween. Gabriel made a face, trying not to think of the laughs everyone at the warehouse got at his expenses from time to time over his less than measured reaction when several workers had come in dressed up as demons. Namely, screaming and trying to climb up the closest scaffold. Even Daniel had been unable to keep himself from laughing to tears - but really, how was he supposed to know it was just pretend and not, well, actual demons?

Of course, that wasn’t something he could say aloud, so he had to resign himself to the fact that everyone working in the warehouse thought he was, to put it mildly, a scaredy cat. Not that it had done much damage, aside from the occasions ‘boo!’ shouted behind him to try getting him to repeat the performance; somehow, it seemed to have actually helped. 

“I found you a little stuck up at first, but you know what, you’re good fun,” someone had said, and that seemed to be the general consensus. Plus, the fact he was able to speak to every single worker in their native language - English, Polish, Romanian, Urdu, German, Italian, you name it; he hadn’t lost that sort of knowledge - had gained him a lot of respect despite what they probably perceived as oddities from his part. 

That was… not the kind of workplace he was used to, but chances were that no one would hold him down to tear out a pair of limbs because a CEO told them to, and Gabriel found he liked that in co-workers. Besides--

“Gabriel? Did you hear a word of what I said?”

“Huh?” Gabriel looked up from his glass, and his confused expression was probably enough of an answer. Daniel rolled his eyes a little, and took a swig from his glass before he spoke again. 

“I asked what plans you’ve got for Christmas.”

“Plans?”

“... I take it you have none?”

Gabriel shook his head. “Not really,” he murmured. Christmas was celebrated in Heaven as well, of course, though not the way mortals did. It was one impressive birthday party, although the birthday boy himself rarely showed up in the high spheres to see them. Now he certainly wasn’t in the mood to celebrate it either way. 

“Ah. Don’t you have any family? Sorry if that’s personal, it’s just that you never mentioned--”

“I had-- siblings,” Gabriel cut him off, blurting out what he felt was probably the closest term a human would understand, and emptied the glass. When he spoke again, his voice was beyond bitter. “We’re not on speaking terms.”

I understand you have no wish to see us, and we will not impose.  

Daniel nodded, his expression grave. “... I understand.”

“I don’t think you do,” Gabriel muttered, more harshly than he meant to. 

Daniel didn’t seem fazed. “Did they do something, or--”

“They cast me out,” Gabriel snapped, slamming the empty glass down. “They just-- they were told to cast me out, and they did. I...” he paused, and swallowed. He hadn’t heard from Crowley or Aziraphale in the past couple of months, but now the demon’s voice rang in the back of his mind, loud and clear as though he was standing right there before him. 

Had it been you receiving the order and Michael the one on the ground, would you have refused to do what God asked of you?  

All we knew was that we owed obedience, the letter read.

“... They cast me out,” he repeated, and leaned back against his seat. It still hurt to think of it; the scars over his shoulder blades ached at the memory. “And then they went and said I could call for them whenever, but I can’t. I won’t.”

“Maybe they want to make amends,” Daniel said slowly. He put down his glass, still half full; he spoke slowly, carefully. “Maybe they-- regret throwing you out.”

We never wished for any harm to come to you. I hope you know that.

“Maybe,” he finally said, gesturing for the waitress to bring him another drink by lifting up the empty glass. He was getting used to alcohol, sort of, but three drinks seemed to be his limit and he had no intention to surpass it, so that would be his last for the evening. “I doesn’t really matter. We’re through.”

“I’m sure that if you did take their offer and tried to call--”

“What, are you their advocate now?” Gabriel snapped again, and immediately regretted it. He groaned, rubbing his face. “... My apologies. It is a sore subject.”

“No, no, I get it,” Daniel immediately backpedalled. “I’m sorry. I pressed on without even knowing what happened. I just-- you know, sort of know how it is, wanting to make contact after… something stupid and cruel you wish you could take back, but can’t.”

Daniel’s wistful tone, more than his words, got Gabriel’s full attention. He stared at him across the table as another gin and tonic was put in front of him; he thought back at Aziraphale, how dignified he was while stepping into Hellfire, how hard facing him was when, even after all that, he went out of his way to help him.

“Do you regret what you did, or do you only regret where it landed you?” 

“I regret it. I do. I’m sorry.”

“Yes,” Gabriel finally said. “Guess I know what it’s like, too. Actually, everything happened because I did something stupid and cruel I did and can’t take back.”

“Mmh. Want to talk about it?”

Gabriel lowered his gaze back on the glass. “Not really.”

“I see,” Daniel said, and thankfully didn’t pry: he just took a long swig of his pint before putting down the glasses. “... Maybe there is still time to fix it. It’s what I tell myself all the time.”

Gabriel glanced up. “Fix what?”

“Whatever you did wrong.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible,” Gabriel muttered, then, “what is it you want to fix?”

For a few moments, Daniel said nothing. He stayed silent, seemingly debating with himself whether or not he wanted to answer, then he sighed. “Ah, you see - there is someone I-- well. I had a sister. I still do, I think, she can’t be that old but you never know. I’ll know for sure once I find her.”

“Oh?” Gabriel took a sip, frowning a little. Daniel had only ever talked about his wife, and not very much: he was tight-lipped when it came to his life before he found himself in the streets. All Gabriel had gathered was that his wife had died of cancer, and he had no other family. No mention had been made of an estranged sister before. 

Daniel nodded, frowning down at his own glass. “Yeah. I don’t like talking about it, but-- she was my older sister. Her name was - is - Alison. She was way older than me, by almost fifteen years. She must be about seventy now, but I can’t picture that very well. She was twenty-five last I saw her. I was eleven. And Christ, I was a catastrophic dick.”

“I can’t picture an eleven year old boy being such a catastrophic dick,” Gabriel muttered. “Unless it’s the Antichrist, then I guess I can.”

Entirely unaware of the fact that statement was not a joke at all, Daniel chuckled. “Heh. I guess I was just following my parents’ lead. They were the ones who told her to fuck off, and I repeated every single shitty thing they said.” Another long swig. “I wouldn’t now. Those were different times, and I was a kid. But that’s the convenient excuse, isn’t it? Different times and all that.”

“What did she do?”

“She was into women.”

Gabriel blinked. “... Weren’t you as well?”

“What-- well, I was a kid, but-- well, yes, but I am-- a guy. You know? Adam and Eve and all that.”

Oh, right. That was a thing with humans, getting hung up on such insignificant things. “I’d wager their example is not one anyone should strive to follow. Adam and Eve’s, I mean. When you get kicked out of Eden, you know you’ve done something wrong.” He made a face. “Believe me.”

A chuckle, half-hearted. “Heh. Not a bad point, that. But that’s not the way people thought at the time. Our parents sure didn’t. And I thought whatever they told me to think. When you’re that age you still think your parents can do no wrong, you know? Like they’re God or something.”

There was a painful twinge in Gabriel’s chest that he did his best to ignore. “I understand.”

“So she-- stood there, and took the insults, and if not for the fact that her girlfriend was there I think our father would have tried to beat it out of her. But that woman looked like she could break him over her knee, so he didn’t. He just screamed. My mother screamed and cried. And Alison looked at me.” Daniel threw back his head, finishing the pint in one gulp. 

Gabriel suspected he knew what he was going to say next, but he kept quiet and waited for him to speak again. When he did, his voice was tight. “I told her she was disgusting, and that I never wanted to see her again. It was stupid, and it was cruel, and… I didn’t even fully understand what was going on, I think. But I knew it was something that made our father furious, and it made our mother cry, and I hated her for it. I told her I never wanted to see her again,” he repeated, like he could scarcely believe it. 

“... And you did not.”

“I did not. She was told to leave, and she left - they both did. Skipped town.” A pause. “... I got a letter from her a couple of years later. It was addressed to me only. I always picked up the mail, she must have known I would get it before our parents did.”

“What did it say?”

Daniel grimaced, giving him a look that was pained and ashamed in equal measure. “I don’t know. I recognized her handwriting and just threw the envelope in the fire. We moved home a few months later and I never got anything from her again.”

“And that was--”

“Forty years ago. I began looking for her about ten years ago. I figured it would be easier with all the technology - Facebook and Instagram and whatnot, if you listen to folks everybody is on it. But not her, apparently. I can’t find her anywhere. Maybe she’s too old for that crap. I tried with electoral registers, but… nothing. I guess she might have opted not to be on the public list, or changed her name, or…” he paused, the next words he’d clearly been about to utter - or she’s dead - never getting past his lips. In the end, he sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. I’m starting to think it would take a miracle.”

As Daniel turned to gesture for the waiter to get him another pint, Gabriel looked back down at his unfinished drink, his brows knitting together in thought. 

“Yes,” he said slowly, more to himself than to Daniel. “I suppose it would.”

“But maybe it’s for the best that I don’t find her,” Daniel said, turning back to him. He looked saddened. “Maybe she doesn’t want to see me ever again, either. I was awful to her. I didn’t know any better, never occurred to me to defy our parents, but-- yeah, I can’t take back what I did. I only wish I could let her know I’m sorry.”

We cannot begin to understand God’s reasons to order such a thing of us, and to punish you alone, the letter on his desk had said. All we knew was that we owed obedience. We never wished for any harm to come to you. 

“You know,” Gabriel said slowly, “you shouldn’t despair just yet. Miracles do happen, after all.”

Should you ever need us, all you need to do is call out our names, and we’ll be there. Always.

*** 

“Ba’al.”

“Ah, Gabriel. I was wondering where--”

“Where have you been?”

“... I don’t like your tone.”

“You were with Astaroth again, weren’t you? And Lucifer, and--”

“Maybe. So what?”

“You know what! It’s… the wrong sort.”

“The wrong sort for what?”

“To be around. The things they say - it’s not an amusing joke anymore. Everyone is on edge. Patience is running thin. They have stopped short of declaring themselves above God so far, but it seems a matter of time before something happens, and when it does--”

“Maybe we are above God. Them, me, you.”

“What-- Ba’al!”

“We do all the work, no? God has done nothing but give orders in eons. Why shouldn’t we take-”

“Don’t you dare say such a thing! None of us is above--”

“Be quiet, Archangel! Remember it’s a Virtue you’re talking to!”

“I-- you--” Hesitation, because never before did Ba’al bring up their superior rank, but only for a moment. “You’re a Virtue because God willed so! You exist because God willed so! You can’t seriously think--”

“What I think is none of your business.”

An attempt at walking past Gabriel. Gabriel refusing to budge. “Please. I don’t understand what’s gotten into you.”

A pause. “... If you really want to understand, come with me one of these days.” A step forward, a hand held out in invitation. “Maybe you’ll change your mind once you listen--”

“I won’t! Are you out of your mind?”

No answer, for a few moments; only a long, icy silence. “... Perhaps you should be on your way, then, Archangel Gabriel. You wouldn’t want to be caught hanging with one of the wrong sort, would you?”

“What? No, I didn’t mean you, you’re not--”

“And how would you know?”

More silence; not icy, but stunned. “I-- I know you.”

“... No. You do not.”

 ***

I knew him, before the Fall.

Of course, was nothing new: Beelzebub had known that annoying little piece of trivia for well over three months now, during which he had avoided that insufferable idiot like the pla-- no, wait. Not like the plague, they had quite enjoyed that despite part of history despite-- I was a healer once wasn’t I -- the sudden increase in the influx of souls in Hell. That had resulted in some serious pressure on the chronically understaffed New Arrivals department - the understaffing was intentional, of course, or else it wouldn’t be Hell - as well as a few headaches.

And speaking of headaches, there was one threatening to split their skull right now. Served them right, Beelzebub through, for trying to remember. Why do that? It was painful, and whatever they dredged up couldn’t possibly be worth it. Gabriel wasn’t worth the hassle of trying to change his mind. He wanted to live as a mortal? Fine then, let him live as a mortal. 

He’d die eventually and when it happened, Beelzebub could bet a six hundred and sixty-six souls that he’d find himself in Hell - because God was no better than the worst of them, except when it came to PR - and oh, how they’d laugh, then. They’d laugh in his stupid face and throw him in some pit to be tortured for all eternity, because he could forget getting a nice, important role after rejecting the offer so many times. And then they’d never glance in his direction again. 

They’d never have to remember. Just cast him down, like he’d cast them down, and… and…

But he did not. It was Michael.

“I had a spear, and your sword was broken…”

“Gabriel, what are you waiting for? Strike them down!”

But he had not. Neither of them had moved, which was… stupid. Why had they not moved? Why had he not struck them down?

“No, I didn’t mean you, you’re not--

Enough. Beelzebub shook their head to chase away the memory, expecting another spike of pain in their head, but nothing happened. Well, now that was… interesting. Memories were painful to pull up from the depths of their mind, but once they managed to do that thinking of them caused no more pain. Nothing to keep them from revisiting them. 

“Lord Beelzebub? Is something the matter?”

Dagon’s voice seemed to come from a mile away. Sprawled on their throne, Beelzebub looked up.

“Nothing’s the matter,” they buzzed. Whether Dagon believed it or not, she knew better than to argue. “What is it?”

“We have received a report from the demon you assigned to watch the Archangel Gabriel.”

“Be quiet, Archangel! Remember it’s a Virtue you’re talking to!”

“That idiot is no angel,” Beelzebub snapped, straightening themselves. “He’s a mortal. He’s nothing but a waste of time and resources. Give the demon another assignment and forget about him.”

Dagon blinked a few moments, taken aback, but she was quick to recover. “Yes, my Lord,” she said, and turned to leave.

“Wait,” Beelzebub called out, and held out their hand. “... The report.”

May as well read it, and then forget all about that fool.

*** 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the letter he’d found himself unable to throw away, Gabriel felt increasingly foolish as minutes passed and he did nothing, said nothing, called out for no one. He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t do it.

Calling out names - or just one name, you don’t need several archangels for one miracle - was all that it would take, and they could make Daniel’s wish come true by finding out where his sister was, if she was even still alive. 

Such a huge change to his life, with minimal effort… and no risk. He knew none of them would harm him again. He knew none of them had wanted to do it in the first place, but still he  couldn’t will himself to do it. The mere thought brought him back to when he had last called out their names, cried out their names as he begged for the pain to stop, for them to stop hurting him.

“Michael, please! Uriel-- Sandalphon-- no, no, no, please please--”

Gabriel swallowed, trying to ignore the burning sensation over his shoulder blades, and forced himself to relax his grip on the letter before he damaged it. He threw it back in the drawer and slammed it shut, then reached to take his phone, and dialled the number to Aziraphale’s shop.

The thought of turning to him for help again left a sour taste in his mouth - after what I did, after all he’s already done - but it felt less unbearable than the alternative. He’d explain he needed to help a human and he’d help, or his demon would, and that would be it. Easy. Convenient.

Except that no answer came; the phone rang and rang, but no one picked up and Gabriel realized, belatedly, that Aziraphale had mentioned leaving London around Christmas time for a few days.

“Leave a message and I’ll get back to you,” he’d said. There were few things Gabriel was better at than delivering messages, but this time he just ended the call without leaving any. He would just call back; there was no rush, after all. He could take care of that in the New Year. 

He failed to take into consideration, even after living as one for months, how frail humans truly are - and how easily their lives are snuffed out, without warning.

***

“You did what!”

“Gave the wrong directions to the Wise Men.”

“Crowley, for the love of-- you did not!”

“Why do you think they only got there in January? They lost the star and asked for directions.”

“How do you lose a star?”

“Well, it was cloudy.”

“I see. And you absolutely had nothing to do with it, did you?”

Crowley grinned. Aziraphale made a sound halfway between a snort and a rather undignified giggle. 

“I can’t believe you.”

“Oh, you do. How long have we known each other?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“All right, that we can recall, we have known each other for some six-thousand years, give or take a few months. So yes, you can absolutely believe that I gave wrong directions to the Wise Men. It’s got my name all over it. In my defense, they did the worst part on their own.”

“The worst part?”

“Picking the gifts. Newborn shivering in the cold, and they bring incense and gold and whatnot. Not very wise of them. Why not a blanket?”

“Gold can buy many blankets.”

“Not in the middle of the night in Bethlehem, it can’t.”

“Maybe they wouldn’t have arrived at night if someone hadn’t thrown them off course.”

“Nice try, angel, but they were travelling at night, following a comet that just so happened to be heading the right direction. They wouldn’t have arrived during the day anyway.”

A sigh. “All right, fair,” Aziraphale conceded, and went back to looking up. The night sky was perfectly clear, the stars so very close. The valley below them was almost completely dark. 

“Maybe we could visit Alpha Centauri,” Crowley said. “A vacation. But I like it here, for now.”

“A demon, enjoying a visit to the Devil’s Dyke? Who would have thought.”

“Did I just experience a microaggression here? The betrayal,” Crowley sighed in mock hurt, leaning back on the blanket they had lain on the grass. They both could keep their body temperature in check easily, but neither had wanted to really bother, so they were wearing thick coats and, in Aziraphale’s case, a woolen hat. “You know how this place came to be, right?” Crowley asked.

“Ah, I heard the myth. The devil was digging a trench to let the sea flood churches, but the noise disturbed an old lady who lit a candle. The devil thought daybreak had come and fled, leaving it unfinish-- wait. Oooh, wait. Don’t tell me…?”

“... In my defense, I was drunk.”

Aziraphale laughed, a gloved hand to his mouth. “That would have been amusing to watch.”

“You were busy running around with the Knight of the Round Table,” Crowley muttered, and looked up again, the glasses off his face. Aziraphale followed his gaze up to the stars. 

“You know what would be nice? Snow would be nice.”

“Snow, on Christmas Eve? Groundbreaking,” Crowley sneered, but he was already lifting a hand to snap his fingers, and clouds began closing in above them. Aziraphale smiled and said nothing as the first snowflakes began dancing through the air, illuminated by the headlights of the Bentley.

***

“Are you sure you don’t want to come dine with us?”

“Yes. I’m tired.”

“It will be fun. Lukács is going to make carbonara, but he’s putting cream in it and we’re all going to watch Fabrizio have a full-blown meltdown.”

“Didn’t Fabrizio say his grandmother would kill him if he didn’t make it home for Christmas?’

“Couldn’t afford the tickets right on the day. He’ll go before New Year’s, if he survives the shock of eating carbonara with cream. So, did I convince you?”

Gabriel - who couldn’t begin to imagine what could be so bad about adding cream to carbonara, a position that would have severely disappointed Aziraphale and caused roughly sixty million Italians to froth at the mouth - smiled a little. “Do get his reaction on video for me,” he said, causing Daniel’s smile to fade.

“Are you really sure? It doesn’t seem right, being alone on Christmas Eve.”

“I’ll live,” Gabriel said, his voice somewhat hollow. He tried not to think of the celebration they would hold in Heaven for the birthday of God’s son, tried not to wonder if it would be held that year too with him gone. He made an effort to smile. “If it gets bad, I’ll show up uninvited.”

“You’re already invited, idiot,” Daniel muttered with a laugh and one more worried look, but he did not insist further. When they parted ways it was already dark, and Gabriel just began walking, not really minding where he was going, barely even looking up. When he did look up, he found himself staring at the pier. 

Well, good job I did look up, Gabriel thought, sitting on a bench. It was cold, but at least it hadn’t rained. Or I’d have walked right in the water and I am not entirely sure I would be able to swi--

“You know, this is where the Titanic set off. A good place.”

“Gah!”

“Oh, please. I wasn’t even trying to startle you.”

Gabriel turned to look up, so suddenly it almost made him dizzy, to see Beelzebub perched on the backrest of the bench he was sitting on. They tilted their head on one side, looking at him. 

“You look aged.”

Gabriel clenched his jaw. It was the first he saw of the Prince of Hell since he’d stormed out of that café three months earlier, although he was fairly sure they did, at the very least, have him under surveillance. 

“What do you want?” he asked, full expecting them to answer ‘your soul’. 

Beelzebub didn’t reply: they just slipped down to sit next to him. They weren’t bothering to wear a coat proper coat, but then again it was probably for the best. Gabriel didn’t quite want to imagine what atrocity Beelzebub would consider a proper coat.

“They got some idiot to deal with the appeals,” they informed him, causing Gabriel to frown a little. He’d put the appeals system in place himself, for souls to make their case that Hell had claimed them unfairly - far more civilized than having a skirmish each time over a soul. Beelzebub hadn’t been especially keen on it at the start, but in the end they had agreed to it.

Needless to say, nearly everybody who found themselves in Hell filed an appeal, but there were very few cases, relatively speaking, that were truly considered and reached Gabriel’s desk. 

Of course, Hell would fight tooth and nail to keep each soul, but he and the Lord of the Flies had always managed to keep those discussions in the ream of civility, meeting on neutral ground on Earth. Sometimes Hell kept the souls, some other times Heaven was able to snatch them, even more rarely it was Hell to put forward a motion to get someone’s soul out of Heaven and into Hell, claiming that significant sins had been overlooked. All in all, it was a challenge, and one that Gabriel had enjoyed, red tape and small writing as his weapons. There was a certain work ethic to Beelzebub, too, and he could respect that. 

“They did?”

“Yes, some nondescript angel who tries to argue too many cases at once. Or so I’m told.”

Gabriel blinked. “You haven’t met them?”

Beelzebub scoffed as though insulted. “Don’t make me laugh, I am the Prince of Hell. No time to waste arguing with someone so below me. They sent a nondescript angel, and they got a nondescript demon to deal with it.”

“Ah. I see.” Gabriel fell quiet, and looked out towards the sea, a cold wind ruffling his hair. It had grown, and he’d needed to have it cut for the very first time; needless to say, having someone stand behind him with a sharp object had been… unpleasant, even with the backrest shielding his back from it. Luckily, the barber’s chatter had served well enough to distract him. Overall it had been less disastrous than his first attempt at shaving. “Did you come to tell me that?”

Beelzebub frowned and leaned back against the bench, arms crossed and glaring at the nearby street light. “I have a question. And I demand an answer. Why didn’t you strike me down?”

That was… not what Gabriel had expected to hear. He blinked, turning back to them. “What?”

A glare. “Are you deaf now?”

“I can’t strike you down, I have no powers--”

“Not now, idiot. During the Battle. Why didn’t you?”

Ah. That. “I-- I don’t know.”

You didn’t try to strike me, either. 

A displeased buzzing sound. “That is not an answer. You can remember without your skull splitting in two, no?”

“Well, yes, but--”

“Then do better and remember.”

“Last we met, you didn’t want me to--”

“Don’t pretend you know me!” Beelzebub snapped, causing Gabriel to recoil. “I hate nothing more than a question unanswered, so you will give me an answer or else!”

“All right, all right,” Gabriel said quickly, still reeling a little. He… wasn’t precisely sure he wanted to remember himself - that past was dead and buried for a reason - but then again, you don’t say no to Beelzebub, Prince of Hell and Lord of the Flies, without repercussions he’d rather avoid. If they wanted answers, they would have them… but he should get something in return, too. With Aziraphale unavailable and not really wanting to see his former colleagues, at least he could get one question answered. 

“There might be something I’d like to ask you,” Gabriel finally spoke slowly, fully aware of the fact that trading favors with Beelzebub was… an awful idea. Beelzebub raised an eyebrow, looking mildly surprised, and Gabriel continued. “It’s about a departed soul,” he said. He hoped, truly hoped that Daniel’s sister was not dead yet, but he didn’t want to explain too much to the Prince of Hell. They had already threatened a mortal to force him into a deal. “Alison Brown from Plymouth, born… sometime between 1948 and 1950, if my estimate is correct. I don’t know the date of death. I only want to know if she’s in Hell.”

“And why would you want to know if that particular soul is downstairs?”

Gabriel pressed his lips together, saying nothing. “Why do you want to dwell in the past?”

Beelzebub narrowed their eyes. “It’s on a need-to-know basis, and you do not need to know.”

“Likewise,” he retorted. He got himself an annoyed glance, but in the end they nodded. 

“Fine. Deal. I’ll have the records searched to find out if this ‘Alison Brown from Plymouth’ is in Hell, but when I return with the information I demand answers before I give it to you. And if she is one of ours,” they added, sneering, “I might be willing to trade her soul for yours.”

Ah, Gabriel thought. Of course. Not too long ago, he would have been outraged at the suggestion that his soul was worth that of a mortal and no more. Now he just smiled a little. Despite everything, it was almost a smirk. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d given up on trying to claim me.”

“No. You have well and truly pissed me off too many times not to want you in my trophy room.”

“You have a trophy room?”

“You’ll be the starting point.”

“That’s oddly flattering.”

“Shut up.”

Gabriel smiled faintly and said nothing, waiting for Beelzebub to leave in a cloud of sulphur and smoke, leaving him alone on the pier. But they did not, nor did they say anything themselves. They both just sat there in silence, staring out at the pier beneath a starless sky - and while it was no Christmas party, it was still better than being alone.

*** 

“Do you think Yeshua is going to show up?”

“Doubtful. He never does.”

“Why do we bother celebrating his birthday, anyway? That’s the sort of thing mortals do. And he spends every single one of them on Earth.”

“Tradition, I suppose.”

“Who started it?”

A pause, and they all lifted their eyes up from their papers to glance at each other, a grim sort of realization dawning in. They couldn’t remember, and were not supposed to ever forget things unless it was somehow related to the Fallen. As the Son of God had been born as a human long after the Fall… well, only one angel had been cast out of their ranks ever since.

Was it Gabriel who’d suggested they should celebrate the anniversary of the birth he’d announced himself as his best-known task? Did he enjoy celebrating it? How did he convince them? Michael couldn’t remember. It was nowhere in the notes she had written down. 

Notes are not enough. They can never be enough. Anecdotes about a stranger we know we ought to care about, but cannot remember why. 

“Maybe we could check on him,” Sandalphon spoke slowly. “Just to, er, check.”

“He didn’t call for us,” Uriel pointed out. “It would upset him.”

“He won’t know,” Sandalphon replied, and glanced over at Michael. She hesitated. 

“Aziraphale is keeping his promise to keep us updated,” she said slowly. It was true, of course, but it didn’t help much now that another realization hit her - she was forgetting what his voice sounded like. How do you write down the sound of someone’s voice?

“But he hasn’t met him since he left London. He only relies on what Gabriel tells him on the phone, and-- we can find him. We can see how he’s doing, and... he won’t know it’s us.”

Michael stared a few moments and finally, slowly, she nodded. Uriel sighed, and nodded back. 

“Yes,” she said quietly. “Just to check.”

***

“For if either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion. But woe to the one who falls when there is not another to lift him up.” -- James 4:11

***

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[eurosong]

My ESC 2019 ranking

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[electricrogue]

5, 8, 10 please. XD (Swear words ftw.)

Oh this will be fun xD. Also a lot more info than you asked but hey xD.

5. favourite song in your native language?

Not a huge fan of Romanian songs all in all but... Song wise this one https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xtvZnteTTFM. I’m not such a big fan of the lyrics but the song is nice so yeah it works xD.

Also there was a song I liked when I was younger (as in you know before I entered my (symphonic) metal phase and I don’t normally talk about that phase because I was more boring then) buuuuut lyrics wise it had a line like The waiting is hard it’s like time doesn’t want me to have you and yeah that sounded super cute back then it sounds super cute now. I mean the rest of the song is some generic break up thing and the melody is meh but that line? Good shit.

8. do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom?

Well not so much a nationality confusion thing but there was a trend once when people who came to Bucharest said they were in Budapest. Like yes they are close to each other and they sound pretty much the same but still no xD. Can’t remember exactly who but there were a few singers who did that back then. It got better lately though I would think?

10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

Personally, fut. It means (to) fuck and it’s very versatile if you want? Like a lot of swearings have it inside them.

Actually if you want a lesson in Romanian swearings, I mean it wasn’t in the scope of the question but I personally like this so yeah here it goes xD.

You have futu-te/futu-ti which means fuck you and then you can add to it, either body parts (like in gura (in your mouth), in cur (in your ass), in pizda (in your cunt)), or things you own (this can actually go with anything like you can hit yourself in a chair and then it’s futu-ti scaunul tau).

Oh btw the body parts thing doesn’t need to make sense either like my mother’s favourite is futu-te in glezna which means fuck you in the ankle. No idea how that is anatomically possible but it sounds fun?

Also mother related stuff we have a bunch of those (these go like futu-ti *insert something your mother has/owns* ma-tii) - either mortii (which means her dead relatives) or all the above body parts, or dumnezeii (which means her gods -we’re not politheistic, funny enough, and this has a singular version but I mostly heard the plural one for some reason).

And if you really wanna go next level you can combine them as your heart desires. For example futu-ti mortii in gura which means fuck your dead relatives in their mouths. But the common thing to all of those is this fut thing so yeah xD.