#his voice is nice but the lyrics are just so bland

[sparkly-skies]

he didn't make it gay, robin bby why 😭😭😭

#his voice is nice but the lyrics are just so bland #it's exactly the kind of song i'd be bored by at esc :( #robin packalen #girls like you

[spidey-bie]

I'm splitting this up into sections because there's a lot to go into here. Also y'all know about Ansi enough so I'm getting straight into the relationship. Not proof read if there's errors then no there isn't. Thank you to @the-cat-and-the-birdie for the questions.

Hobie & Ansi

–Part 1

Describe their relationship in 10 words or less.

Idiots who care for one another more than they think.

Describe their dynamic

There are layers to this. At first glance they give off power couple. When they're on site but not in a mission they're chaotic gremlins. But, when they're by themselves they're just two people who are so tired of living. Yet they're both gonna fight. It's gonna suck but they're both gonna keep going until things get better.

Quick! Someone asks 'What are you two? Are you dating?' - What do they say?

"Mind your business."

They will never explain a thing to anybody who they aren't close with if asked.

What's they're favorite way to spend time together?

Reading. They both love to just sit and read together. They'll read aloud to each other.

Hobie adores Ansi's reading voice. The way he changes his pitch for each character.

Her cheerful tone that she can somehow keep throughout the entire story. The way you can tell when a character is about to do something embarrassing because his nose just flared.

Ansi reads mostly sci-fi and fantasy because to him reading is an escapism.

Ansi enjoys Hobie's reading for many reasons (aside from the fact that his voice is so easy in the ears).

His deep and calming voice. The way he tries to hide or exaggerate his accent as he reads. The way he'll pause and take a long drawn out breath when he gets mad before he continues.

His smooth and steady pace is really relaxing. Ansi is fighting fight sleep every time. Hobie reads mostly memoirs or auto/biographies of important black political figures. For him reading is a means to gain knowledge and understanding about the world.

Are they romantic, platonic, sexual? A secret fourth thing?

Trying to narrow it down under any one thing is honestly offensive. They're just so loyally devoted to one another that the lines blur. Ansi will never trust anyone as much as he trusts Hobie and vice versa.

How long have they known each other?

2 years. (Hahaha so apparently they've known each other for 5 non-consecutive years.)

What song embodies their vibe?

It took so long to find a song that didn't use the word love in it. That was genuinely my only rule.

I Will by Mitski

I wanted a song that expressed the devotion that they hold for one another as well as their ability to be vulnerable with each other. To me this song is like them shouting "JUST LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU," back and forth.

Two Slow Dancers by Mitski

The main theme of this song is nostalgia. And I've found that the two of them share more history than what I previously thought. They both wish they could turn back time. It'd be nice to go back to when life was simpler but they both know that they have to keep moving forward.

(I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys was in the running too. )

Any nicknames for each other?

Hobie calls Ansi his/a Trickster and Ann

(like Anansi the trickster spider)

Ansi has tons of nicknames for Hobie.

So far she's got: Busy Bee, Bean, Paper Boy, Bie, Hobbs, and Princess if he's getting on his nerves.

What does a sleepover look like for them?

On a good night it's the two of them infodumping back and forth to one another. Or Hobie bouncing lyrics ideas off for Ansi to sing. Boring bland stuff because it's nighttime and Ansi has a sleep schedule that he likes to stick to.

On a bad night they're both lying in Ansi's full size bed drunk or high, spilling their hearts out to one another until either the sun rises or they both pass out. Sometimes they're just lying on the couch, Hobie in Ansi's arms silently sobbing.

What moment do they feel safest with each other?

Idk if this question is referring to a specific time in the day or a moment in their shared history so I'll say something for the first one.

Crime never sleeps and I don't think the two of them do either. I'd like to say nighttime but we all know nobody is getting any peace and quiet in the streets of Seattle or London at nighttime. So probably around dusk. Right before nightfall. Or at dawn when the sun is just starting to rise.

For some of these answers I just blacked out and it felt like they were speaking through me like dang. Y'all good????

Next | Third | Fourth | Fifth

#this is gonna help me so muchwith character development #Ansi and her Bie #hobie x oc #jay and the spiders #ansi taratella #ansiniya taratella

[alicewhimzy]

Ok. I finally saw the movie today and I loved it. 🍫🎩🏭

Those who have also seen it or are not afraid of spoilers, read on.

It wasn't like the other movies or the musicals or the book, but I don't mind. That's the point, it's a different interpretation and I'm fine with that. One main theme of this story is following and achieving one's dreams, and it shows that theme alongside others in all its glass-half-full glory. It's full of whimsy and camp and its proud of that.

The songs are nice and wouldn't sound out of place in one of the Dahl musicals. One of them, World of Your Own, even reminds me of the Beatles, which is saying something if you ask me. Timothée Chalamet's voice sounded a little meh but I don't mind. He's doing his best and it doesn't hurt the film. I'm sure I'm just used to the bombastic performances of the musical and I'll warm up to this film's soundtrack soon enough. They even put the original Oompa-loompa song to good use, more on that later.

Willy Wonka himself is eccentric and creative but also naive, and throughout the film he gets more clever as he gets more experience, which is good character growth right there. He has talent for his craft, as well as passion for it, but he quickly learns that that alone won't be enough to achieve his dreams. In addition, he comes from poverty, doesn't even know how to read and has to work his way up to his own store, and eventually factory. Not only is that something I can admire and relate to, but it reminds me of one particular lyric from the character's entrance song from the West End musical, It must be Believed to be Seen:

"Despite the man seen at these doors, my childhood home was bland like yours. But I knew how to look to find, a world that wasn't colorblind."

Beautiful. Just beautiful. And sure he's not quite as deranged as most other Wonkas but it's a prequel. That's the point. He hasn't reached his final form yet. This story shows that at heart he is an unorthodox but sweet person who doesn't want to hurt anyone for no good reason. This one's a good bean.

Noodle makes for good thematic balance in her friendship with Willy, because she is the minder to his cloudcuckoolander. Her skepticism and realism balances out his optimism and naivety. They are good friends. No more, no less. They don't need to be anything else. By the end of the film, they have left a substantial impact on each other. Noodle isn't such a downer anymore, and Wonka will think twice before blindly trusting someone.

Willy's fellow tenants, whom for simplicity's sake I'll call the Scrub-mates, each have their own talents, quirks and goals unachieved just like him, but unlike him they all have little to no hope left. As they help Willy and Noodle, who haven't completely given up, they are able to bring that sense of hope back until they are able to get what they want as well.

Mrs. Scrubbit and Mr. Bleacher are a riot. They are both goofy and greedy and willing to trick anyone who comes into their clutches into indentured servitude just for the sake of their own selfish desires. I can just hear these two singing Master of the House. They are a small-scale example of the kind of rigged system that Willy and Noodle and the Scrub-mates must outsmart if they want to achieve their dreams. Fortunately, outsmart it they do and Scrubbit and Bleacher both get their just desserts in the end. However, despite their arguments, it was surprisingly touching to watch them grow closer together over the course of the film, culminating in only the grossest of pre-arrest kisses. What are the chances these two turn out to be the Twits?

Ficklegruber, Prodnose and Slugworth are also great villains. They are the cheesiest flavor of evil and they know it. This trio made me laugh so many times. They provide the big-scale rigged system in the form of the chocolate cartel. It's clear from the moment they show up that they are only in it for the profits, and are firm believers in quantity over quality, as opposed to Wonka who is genuinely passionate about the art of candy-making. Fantastic funny foils for much of the film.

That is until the twist regarding Noodle. A twist I genuinely didn't expect.

So Arthur Slugworth stopped Noodle's parents from getting married because yadda-yadda upper class balderdash, and then afterwards he knew this little sick infant was his niece, and he dropped her down the laundry chute of Scrubbit and Bleacher's and lied to her mother, telling her her baby DIED, all just to get the inheritance. Wow. What a scumbag. It shows just how consumed by greed the man is, as well as how much harm he's willing to cause for his own gain. He and the other two get their comeuppance in the best possible way. Willy uses their greed against them, tempting them with the best chocolate he ever made™, he tells them to give it to Lofty the Oompa-loompa, they eat it themselves and it backfires on them. Wonkish karma at its finest. The trio end up undone by their own chocolate and are eventually arrested. Good riddance. Although there is a chance they could come back with spies and such...

The idea of the local church being a front for the chocolate cartel is very unsubtle in terms of showing hypocrisy but I don't mind it a bit. It's funny. The choco-holic monks chant-singing "GIRAFFE!", and Rowan Atkinson as their boss- I mean, cleric!? Just plain funny!

Lofty the Oompa-loompa is 25 inches of snark and smugness, and I mean that in the best way. I never thought I'd hear Hugh Grant singing Oompa-loompa doo-pa-dee-do, but every day we learn something new. Not only that, but Oompa-loompa doo-pa-dee-dix, the dreaded backstory has also been fixed! Lofty/shorty-pants has been stealing Wonka's chocolate because he fell asleep while "guarding" one of the few cacao trees in Loompaland, and Wonka picked that tree's beans, unaware that they belonged to someone else. Neither of them do anything to the other out of malice in that flashback. Just a nap and a misunderstanding. We also see that the other Oompa-loompas are dressed in their own style of clothing and are carrying halberds, and Lofty left Loompaland in a motorboat. Their society is clearly not tribal anymore. Good move. Lofty and Wonka gradually stop being enemies, Wonka pays him the chocolate he owes, Lofty saves his life and Noodle's, and at the end he stays on as Wonka's taster, meaning most likely one the spy problem happened he told the others about this friend of his who can grow a TON of cacao trees and they willingly wanted to come over and get in on it. In their position, who could blame them? I know I wouldn't!

Most importantly this movie is FUN! That was one of the most important things and they nailed it! If it's not fun, why bother? And oh boy, did they bother!

I'm glad the zoo-keeper and the chocolate vault security guard rekindled their relationship. Best subplot ever.

Noodle got the happily ever after she deserves. She has finally found her long lost mother and is able to bring her dream of living in a house of books, a library, to life.

Willy wasn't given his success on a silver platter, he had to earn every sovereign of it, work smarter as well as harder, risk life and limb for what he wanted to achieve. It took time, effort and two assassination attempts, but when he was finally able to say goodbye to his mother and saw the secret she left for him, in gold no less, it moved me to tears. All this man really wanted was to use his talent to help people who needed help and bring joy into the world. Good for him!

Wonka is a win. This is a wonderful whimsical movie. I loved it and I hope any dedicated Wonkites in search of a delectable December treat will love it too.

You're off your rocker Wonka, and that's why we love you. 😁

🎫

#my thoughts on #Wonka #the movie not the person #in case you were wondering #i love it #please don't ship #Willy Wonka #with #Noodle #he's an adult #she's a child #I won't stand for that #not on my blog #wonka 2023 #wonka movie #spoilers #movie review #movies #alicewhimzy

[thesinglesjukebox]

SABRINA CARPENTER - "ESPRESSO"

It's I! hi! Me espresso it's I!

[7.41]

Joshua Lu: Sabrina Carpenter has positioned herself as the industry's premiere deliverer of fancy nonsense: "dream-came-true'd" rhymed with "perfumed" rhymed with "Mountain Dew'ed"; a reference to a video game console that actually sounds grounded in the current decade, a possible first for the Hot 100, and of course the titular claim to be "me espresso." Even the song's most memorable line, where she blithely states her occupation as a singer, becomes camp through its sheer banality. This tactical quirkiness elevates "Espresso" from being a decent reinvention of "Say So" to welcome playlist fodder in the months to come. In a time when calling music "brainless poolside summer noise" is used to justify mediocrity, it's pleasant to hear actual brainless poolside summer noise with legitimate thought and personality behind it. [7]

Hannah Jocelyn: Sabrina Carpenter has found her niche by being a total goofball, and I have to respect it. She sings like she knows how dumb “that’s that me espresso” is as a line but also knows that it's a catchy hook. Good thing, too, because Julian Bunetta’s production is unremarkable nü-disco that makes me wonder what to call it when it’s not nü anymore. [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: "Say So" is the Urtext of 2020s pop music: often imitated, often matched, but rarely surpassed, which is a shame because, as previously noted, that's a hot loop not a hot song. Carpenter swaps nonsense for missense; every line here is mutated in a way that (intentionally?) evokes Italo disco and Swedish factory pop, and it basically works. I wish it were a little less self aware; both here and on "nonsense," Carpenter feels the need to remark on the stupidity of her own songs in a way that suggests a lack of confidence in the broader act. Even with that slight dissonance, though, it'd be pointlessly contrarian to deny the quality of the groove and the schtick. Just because she thinks it's stupid doesn't mean I have to agree. [7]

TA Inskeep: Jeremy D. Larson is right to suggest that this is like Carly Simon's "Why" pulled inside-out, and then, I think, perhaps stretched a bit like taffy left out on a hot summer day. This isn't as good as "Why" -- few songs are -- but it's got a similar vibe and smartly turns disco into easy-to-swallow pop. Carpenter sounds like she can't be bothered, which helps. [9]

Oliver Maier: It's easy and not entirely unreasonable to dismiss "Espresso" as more of the diet disco fare we've been inundated with for the past half-decade, but it's arch and queasy-sounding in a way that's more Neon Indian than Doja Cat. The mosquito-whine synth riff in the pre-chorus sounds like it could've graduated from the Vega Intl. Night School. I don't know whether I'm totally won over by Carpenter -- the lyrics strike me less as so-dumb-they're-brilliant and more as just dumb -- but I'm taken by the way everything in this song sounds. [7]

Nortey Dowuona: Julian Bunetta returns to our shores, now sipping the espresso of Amy Allen and Sabrina Carpenter. His drums here are a bland 1984 rehash; they sound nice enough but don't really push the envelope. Thankfully, the swirling rubbery synth bass and spectral keys of the chorus are a nice touch, as are the guitar filtered down into a dusting that's revealed in bits and pieces in the mix, and the neat little keyboard riff around the pre-chorus. The voices of Carpenter, Amy Allen and Steph Jones create a lush harmony that allows Carpenter to descant at the top of her range without it feeling jarring or irritable. Very good cup, but it's a medium-size one. [7]

Alfred Soto: I liked it the moment the distorted/sampled/real guitar squealed at 0:52; I loved it when the bass and percussion track hopped into bed and didn't let go. In the last two days I've heard "Espresso" blasting from an F-150 as it screeched past me on my morning constitutional and at my favorite watering hole. The mood lifted. Key is Sabrina Carpenter, heiress of a vocal lineage that includes Andrea True, Kylie, and Annie.  [9]

Isabel Cole: Stupid, she mutters near the end, amused, ostensibly about her affair; but it’s hard not to hear it as a moment of breaking kayfabe about the whole endeavor and be inclined to agree, but cheerfully, in the spirit of: I’ll drink to that! I like that she sings it like her mind is elsewhere, to the extent that she intones “I guess so” so weirdly it sounds like she’s learned the line phonetically. And I really like the little fembot yes-es in the pre-chorus, a mini-posse of Sabrinas programmed only for fun in the sun. "Espresso" is frozen yogurt in song form: sweet and weightless and refreshing enough that if you’re not paying attention you might not even notice how empty it is, and if you do, well, on certain sweltering Sundays that’s part of the appeal.  [7]

Katherine St. Asaph: No thoughts head empty type beat. [7]

Ian Mathers: Aggressively competent, and a fine addition to the annals of delightful pop semi-gibberish in the form of "that's that me espresso." Docked a point for "I know I Mountain Dew it for ya" because come the fuck on. [6]

Taylor Alatorre: "Stupid," indeed, in the most generously and joyfully pre-meditated of ways. But not so stupid regarding the relative caffeine content of different brands of soda -- as Carpenter is no doubt aware, Mountain Dew is by a good margin the most caffeinated of the major brands, with a 12 fl oz can providing about 85% of the caffeine contained in a single shot of espresso. Celebrities: they read the Nutrition Facts when they're bored just like us! [8]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Hot, sweet, smooth, tasty but not particularly substantive, and with playful notes. Not unlike�� [8]

Will Rivitz: A Nespresso pod of a song: shiny, cheaply produced, and considerably worse than the thing it's trying to imitate. Probably bad for the environment, too. [3]

Will Adams: Is this the five thousandth "Say So" retread to enter the pop arena? Yes. Was "Say So" itself not that innovative? Yes. Does "Espresso" get away with it by virtue of being dumb as hell? Yes.  [7]

Kayla Beardslee: Sweet but with a bite like macchiato / Served up just how they like it on the radio / Dear pop girls, can you please move on from "Say So" / Sabrina’s sense of humor makes this land, though. [7]

Rachel Saywitz: “Espresso” is ridiculous, braggadocios, and a bit idiotic, but it also sounds so lived-in: in the way you psych yourself up in the mirror when you’re nervous (“that’s…that’s that me! Espresso!”), or the way you vent to a friend about someone who ticked you off (“like, literally, that’s that me espresso, and I fucking told them that”), or the way you start bawling during a therapy session after uncovering some deep personal truth (“it was me *sob sob* I was the espresso all along *sob sob sob*”). It’s a communal inside joke that gives each of us our own grandiose thrill. [8]

Michael Hong: Originally mistook this for a K-pop song, but no group gets the dumb rush of "I know I Mountain Dew it for you." It's the part of a crush where you're bending over backwards to be whatever they need: a dream come true, their ex, a warm shot of espresso. [7]

Jackie Powell: “Espresso” is such a feat for Sabrina Carpenter. That can’t be understated. She starred on a Disney Channel show that was way past the prime of the network, then she was rumored to be the foil in Olivia Rodrigo’s breakout “Driver’s License," and now she’s on the precipice of having the song of the summer. Carpenter’s previous single, “Feather,” was an earworm that relied upon a steady baseline and a piano riff that intentionally flitters throughout each hook, and built her momentum by becoming a radio sleeper. It's impressive how effortless "Espresso" seems. The song’s grammar-defying lyrics could have made this an absolute mess, but "Espresso” is quite sophisticated in how it plays with appositives —a noun phrase that describes the one that came before it, as in the phrase “That’s That Me Espresso“— and conversions, when a word changes parts of speech, as in how Carpenter turns "dream come true" into “dream-come-true’d.” Carpenter uses caffeine as a symbol of her sexual power, and her confidence in her delivery of the absolutely ridiculous lyrics makes the listener believe her message. Is it just the super smooth rhythm guitar and bassline of Julian Bunetta that puts me under a spell for three minutes? Maybe! When I listen to “Espresso,” I can’t help but feel a sense of autonomy. It doesn’t matter how unrelatable the line “I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer” is. The headspace around moments when you have so much confidence absolutely is.  [8]

Mark Sinker: Natasha Henstridge diving thru the glass in SPECIES (1995): when the song break containment ????? [10]

Dave Moore: The pleasure I found in this too-arch-by-half bon bon early on was fragile, and commercial success has soured the fun -- it wants so badly to be an admirable flop. But given this is the Year of the Flop, maybe the true flop is success? [6]

Alex Clifton: "Espresso" has been stuck in my head for a solid three weeks, even to the point of keeping me up at night (just like a good caffeine buzz). You'd think that would be too much, but honestly I cannot get enough of it. I get buzzed on this like it's a drug. It's a perfect summer pop song -- frothy, cheeky, a little weird, and sunny, with both a beautiful earworm of a melody and lyrics that are just strange enough to question but sound good anyway. (Who would've thought to rhyme "Nintendo" with "espresso"? Now I'll always hear it.) Welcome to the big time, Sabrina Carpenter. So pleased to have see you arrive. [10]

Andrew Karpan: Somehow it took me the entire month of April to listen to “Espresso,” a song that was everywhere and nowhere, a collectively held memory of other songs and how big they used to feel. One misses songs that sound like this. Sabrina Carpenter may sound like Ariana Grande or may sound like Dua Lipa, but what she sounds like is the present day, the wind as the subway doors close, pigeon carrier of a message of hope, on the lips of everyone, at least somewhere. Me espresso, you espresso, we expresso.  [8]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#sabrina carpenter #music #pop #pop music #music writing #music reviews #music criticism #the singles jukebox #Youtube

[struggle-but-its-all-ocean-floor]

Oh boy, JK please stop doing features.

"I wanked before I came so I could fuck you longer"

When I tell you I started laughing when the dude started rapping... Lmao. Like, omg, that was some of the worst rapping I've heard in my life. Dude made Jack Harlow sound like a fucking poet. The English accent and his low tone were so out of place in the song too. And his flow was bad. Like, his part was terrible, even worse than I expected. It was so bad and weird I couldn't help laughing. This entire song just gave me a chuckle. I had tears in my eyes in the end.

The MV didn't make any sense, and the studio parts with the three of them were so out of place in the whole MV. We had The Kid Laroi looking, like one of my anons once said, like a 15 year old trying out his dad's clothes. The lyrics and random inserts of women didn't help lmao.

Even JK looked ridiculous in that suit with his hair styled back like he was in the mob, though his first look was great. He sounded good, as always, even if he got the same verses throughout the song. For sure he sounded and looked better than the other two - as expected. He always sounds and looks better than the other artists, which is a sign he either needs to find better collabs or stop fucking doing them. The song wasn't even bad - it just had a bad rap and a bland main artist. In JK's hands alone the song would've been nice, which is what I've been saying about literally every single collab so far.

Tbh, this song would've bothered if I didn't know we had 8 new solo(-ish) JK songs on the way. I'm untouchable now. This is the last hurdle we have to overcome before Golden is here. Then. there will be no more unnecessary rapping and bland vocalists. The Kid Laroi isn't a bad singer, but his voice is so overwhelmingly bland.

Also, we really had to wait two extra minutes after the premier started? That was new. The things I do for you JK.

#bts #jungkook #text

[linskywords]

Taylor Swift Meets Hockey RPF: Advent Calendar Day 22

The 4th ficciest Taylor Swift song of all time is…

Song: Treacherous Album: Red Year: 2012/2021 Lyrics: https://genius.com/Taylor-swift-treacherous-taylors-version-lyrics Ficciness Rank: #4

This one’s intense. I initially had it lower down on the list and kept having to bump it up because every time I listened to I was like “YES THE FORBIDDEN ROMANCE.” It has a lot in common with Dress in its desperation and helplessness in the face of the feelings, while being a little less tied to women’s clothing. It is just every fic where the main character tells himself he’s going to stop it with these ridiculous feelings but then does one little thing that leads to another little thing and soon enough the feels are there and it’s too late to stop it (as if he ever could have in the first place).

I could easily quote every lyric in this song, so I’m just going to highlight a few of my favorites:

I can't decide if it's a choice Getting swept away

I hear the sound of my own voice Asking you to stay

This bit, this is so fic. The character finding himself doing things that aren’t what he intended to do, because his desires are overriding his best intentions. He should be able to make a rational choice either way, but can he actually? Or is this person actually gravity, quicksand, friction, a force acting on the main character’s nature in a way he can’t resist?

Also, the hockeyness of this bit: 

All we are is skin and bone Trained to get along Forever going with the flow But you're friction

They ARE trained for this, their whole lives: to value only their physical selves, to play well and not make waves off the ice, to give bland answers to the media and smile when they’re told to and find a nice (thin, pretty) girl if dating is something they feel like doing. But then this person comes along, this person they can’t seem to resist, and suddenly they’re both faced with a much more dangerous alternative.

Two headlights shine through the sleepless night And I will get you a, get you alone Your name has echoed through my mind And I just think you should, think you should know That nothing safe is worth the drive And I would follow you, follow you home I'll follow you, follow you home

…And then they go for it, and the place they end up turns out to be home for both of them.

Pairing I’d assign to this song: This is Claude and Danny. The story takes place in that year when Claude lived with him (the era of the canonical Brioux Christmas card), when Danny was recently divorced and Claude was in his early twenties and like a decade younger than Danny and it was the most intensely bad idea for them to get together. Danny knows this, and he’s legitimately not planning on anything when he invites Claude to live with him and the boys–he just loves hosting rookies. But there’s something about Claude, something that grabs Danny’s attention and makes him feel things he hasn’t felt for years. Something that makes their house together feel more like a home than it has since long before Sylvie left. He thinks he can keep it together–but then Claude confesses his own feelings, and Danny can’t. No matter how strongly he feels about this, he can’t blow up both their lives like that. It’s up to Claude to convince him that some ideas that seem terrible are actually worth it.

Lyrics to title this story: Follow You Home

Masterpost Playlist

<Prev | Next>

#also this has one of my favorite lyrics for a title #till the gravity's too much #but alas i've already used it #advent 2022 #ficciest taylor #hockey rpf #taylor swift #brioux #claude giroux #danny briere #Youtube

[camelspit]

To the anon who said her music is like poetry: I??? Sir???

Ahdkaha it's not a matter of opinion, her music is basic. Like, it's basic and honestly a cash-grab at this point.

I mean, like, props to her??? Like having a dedicated fan base and staying relevant all these years is like. Top tier Marketing. But don't get it confused, she is very much basic. The same way white is a basic colour, and pumpkin spice lattes in fall is basic.

Also, to say that people are listening to her music wrong is just...

It's bland. That's a fact. I'm not talking about the lyrics, I'm talking about the actual harmonies and melodies and such. Another basic band: Fall out boys. They're the poster band for wanna-be edgy teens. But the actual music isn't bland- It's loud with subtle twists of the instruments as they assault your ears. Doesnt stop the lyrics from being kinda sub-par tho

Something like what TS does but is in a whole other league: "Another Love" by Tom Odell. Just... That one isn't bland. And his voice sounds excellent!! Amazing!! Certainly not bland.

Another example is "When I get there" by P!nk. Like!! God damn her voice is so nice 😭

Taylor Swift is like Ed Sheeran.

But if it speaks to you, then who are you to not enjoy it?

ok

#I like the another love reference. Youre right. That song goes hard.

[robocracker]

ranking esc2023 songs... part two

ahead of the second semi final tonight, here’s my personal qualifiers and non-qualifiers for another sixteen songs!

1. austria || it’s already iconic and for good reason. this year’s show belongs to edgar allan poe!!

2. san marino || i feel like it’s not my usual kind of thing, at least not when it comes to eurovision, but i like it. good music, nice vocals, and it’s hard not to sing along.

3. iceland || look it’s nothing new or inventive, but for what it is, it delivers and it delivers well, and her voice has a lot of power behind it.

4. denmark || didn’t think i’d be seeing the random ab6ix collab guy on eurovision, but here we are... it’s cute and catchy, and he’s got a likeable voice.

5. greece || i’m saying it again, it’s nothing new, but it’s from a teenager so i’ll allow it. he’s got a lot of talent.

6. lithuania || she’s a solid singer and i like the progression of the song.

7. cyprus || i like his voice and the song builds along well, so i’d be surprised if it didn’t do well in the semi at least.

8. slovenia || i like the music on this one and it’s one of those songs that sticks in my head but it’s welcome to.

9. estonia || strong vocals, and the music is likeable enough, but. kind of boring.

10. armenia || tbh this one bores me a bit too, but she’s got a strong voice and the music itself is solid.

11. romania || he’s got a good voice but this song just isn’t working for me.

12. albania || i do enjoy the music on this and the cultural touches, but it’s not really my kind of thing.

13. poland || it’s catchy but that’s kind of the only compliment i can give it.

14. georgia || look i’m trying to put aside the awkward phrasing of some of these lyrics, but even with that aside, it’s pretty generic for eurovision.

15. belgium || for an upbeat eurovision song about empowerment and self-belief... it’s pretty damn bland.

16. australia || i feel like it has potential at the beginning but then the chorus bores me every time.

#eurovision #esc 2023 #this is definitely a weaker semi final for me... tbh i only really care about austria reaching the final #but my top four for this ranking are all ones i'd like to see there #as for the rest... #well it'll come down to how well they can actually perform live then we'll see if my ranking sticks or if i change my mind

[no-gays-in-russia]

ESC 2023 pre-rehearsal top 37

Places 37-26

37. Ireland: I defended this as long as I could but I just can’t anymore lol. I will always defend this winning Eurosong because honestly they gave the best performance that night, so I think it is fair they won. But the song itself, while not the worst, just gets incredibly repetitive and annoying after a while of listening to it, with cheesy and unoriginal lyrics.

36. Israel: I’m just not a fan of girly bops, so it’s not surprising that I don’t like this. I’m a little sad though because at first it sounded like something I could actually get behind, but it just gets worse and worse the more it goes on lol. I love the instrumental beginning, and the verses too are actually quite mysterious and interesting. The song really loses me at the chorus and EVERYTHING ELSE most of all. Towards the end it gets crazy chaotic and the ending is weird and abrupt.

35. Belgium: thought this would never elevate itself from last place, this is progress! Gustaph definitely seems like a great, really nice guy, so that helps lol. He’s a really good singer and performer too and puts a lot into his song. I was really mad at the song originally because Chèrine didn’t win (lmao we were all so petty for no reason) but honestly it’s not even bad- it’s just not my style. But I can’t lie I’ve been jamming to it every now and then...

34. San Marino: no it genuinely hurts my heart to put them here because y’all can believe me or not but I actually know these dudes lol. Two of them teach at my music school and the singer is a student of my singing teacher. I know the guitarist personally because he’s played guitar for me a bunch of times and has also recorded and produced some Eurovision covers I did. So when they won in San Marino I was SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP. And I do have to say they are as far as I know super nice cool and talented guys. But I’m sorry, I really don’t like the song lol. It’s not awful, but it’s very repetitive, the singer sounds constantly pitchy (I swear our singing teacher is amazing pretty sure this is his fault lol) and the bridge with the high note is so... what? Part of me wants them to qualify because that’d be so cool but part of me just doesn’t want this song in the final... Let’s see what they do with the staging (I have some tea but I have been told not to spill it so I will stay quiet lol)

33. Romania: I relatively enjoyed the song at first, I like this bluesy vibe and his raspy voice, but listening to it more and more it’s started sounding quite annoying and weird. The lyrics are really random. He’s super talented for his age though!

32. Poland: BEJBAH. Okay look, the studio version actually is not THAT awful- it’s not my kind of thing, but the quality is fine and it’s somehow catchy. That live performance though... Oof. 

31. Italy: seems like we came back to our old bland ballad ways after the blessing that was Zitti e Buoni... again, not the worst song but so unoriginal, bland and just plain boring. I like the bridge and love his vocals though. The pre-chorus is also quite cool.

30. United Kingdom: I had it last when it first came out, but it’s honestly been growing on me. Once again, not a fan of girl bops, but this one is quite solid and catchy. For some reason this gives me hispanic vibes? Either way it’s enjoyable and the lyrics are also somehow cool.

29. Azerbaijan: similarly to Ireland, I was a huge defender of it originally but it’s been growing off me. First of all, twins make me uncomfortable lol. I’m talking identical twins that sing together- they have the same voice and it sounds like one guy’s voice being reduplicated, it’s weird and doesn’t sound good to me. But besides that they have nice voices, and the concept for the structure at least is good. The lyrics are really plain and meaningless, and factually the song ends up being repetitive and annoying.

28. The Netherlands: has been growing on me a lot honestly! At first I just found it terribly boring, but now I see that there’s a peculiar sweet sadness to it which somehow sets it apart. The lyrics are pretty, and their vocals in the studio version are good- it’s a shame they’ve been not so great live, because with a good live performance, this could really have potential. 

27. Malta: this is really catchy and fun, as well as the lyrics, but it’s a bit repetitive and just... I don’t know, feels empty and a bit meaningless? It’s fun, but not much else.

26. Ukraine: honestly, one of my biggest growers this ESC season. Similarly to Gustaph, back when Tvorchi won their NF I was mad that Jerry Heil or Krut hadn’t won, and unfairly projected that onto the song. As time went by I managed to clear my head of that; also the revamp has really elevated the song imo. Now I really enjoy listening to it, it’s dark, catchy and peculiar, with good structure too. I love the verse in Ukrainian and the instrumental at the end is gorgeous. 

#eurovision #eurovision song contest #esc #eurovision 2023 #eurovision song contest 2023 #esc 2023

[girltomboy]

The Torturous Tortured Poets Department - a 2/10 album

I finally listened to this slop knowing full well it would be beyond excruciating to try and sit through all the 31 "songs" on it, and all my expectations were confirmed. That lady can't do anything!

So I want to mention that only the first 10-ish songs are actually listenable, the rest of it is the same repetitive monotone slop that's ever present on her past ~4 releases (not including the re-recorded greedleases).

Fortnight (feat. Post Malone) - flat song, Post Malone fits well on it, but it doesn't have a peak, just goes straight into nowhere. I kind of forgot most of it because it feels like I've been trying to get through this tar pit of an album for a whole day. Forgettable is a good description for it.

The Tortured Poets Department - fake deep, heavily influenced by pretentious clichees, we can tell she had a fling with the racist from The 1975 because it made her even more annoying. Also forgettable.

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys - this one was better, has a bit of personality to it, some rhythm too, one of the only decent songs if you pay little attention to the lyrics.

Down Bad - the swearing makes it funny, lackluster production, quite flat, verbose & empty. I don't think she understands what "down bad" means.

So Long, London - the same as the previous one, empty production, verbose, flat singing, filler song.

But Daddy I Love Him - I feel compelled to point out she used a comma for the previous title, but not here. This one sounds a little bit like her older stuff, probably because of the lyrics. Still too wordy, and the production is too boring in contrast with her voice and the lyrics, a problem that's prevalent on most of her recent releases.

Fresh Out The Slammer - another song loaded with flat singing and lackluster production. A lot of these songs have long periods of silence, not drops or rests like in most other songs where it sounds nice, just straight up long silences.

Florida!!! (feat. Florence + The Machine) - stripped back production here and there very unnecessarily. Florence held back a lot, there's barely any singing, of course, to match her little song companion. It's barely a song, really, incohesive and peakless. The build-up, if you can call it that, is sudden and short and leads nowhere. Their voices also don't complement each other well at all.

Guilty as Sin? - this sounds a lot like many of her other songs with boring and empty productions. No peak or anything to make it stand out, just percussion and plain vocals with thesaurus lyrics.

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me - silence again; this one is at least richer in sounds. The lyrics are too edgy, reminiscent of Karma. There's a rhythm, but the random pauses kill all the momentum. Corny, high school lyrics.

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) - these long, cheesy titles are tiring me out. Production copied + pasted from the other songs. No peak, no singing, no music. It could have been an interlude with fewer words. Too many dog allegories for her boyfriends on this album.

loml - another empty ballad with many words and nothing said. Lullaby song, really boring, repetitive, bad lyrics.

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart - some build up only to sound like a monkey with cymbals song. Really corny lyrics and the same lackluster production.

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived - this is where the album, already pretty bad so far, takes a down turn and becomes the most unbearable collection of slop I've ever sat through since her Folklore/Evermore days. Those were peak unbearable, this was just disappointing and exhausting. One piano note for each syllable, bland production again, nothing song. Verbose and sleepy.

The Alchemy - I have already listened to this song 10 times on this album so far. It sounds like Halsey and would have probably been better with a trap instrumental rather than this silent 2014 nonsense.

Clara Bow - the same boring slop over and over. She's talking too much, not singing enough, and the elevator music just makes it exhausting. Nothing new, just recycled lyrics over the same bland production.

The Black Dog - here I was kinda starting to get pissed off. Not music. She really made the same song 20 times and said "yeah, it's an album. Release it." Wow my ears hurt.

imgonnagetyouback - Repetitive, heard it before, zero production. Some rhythm, but the backing vocals and empty melody kill it. Silence again.

The Albatross - a little more interesting, something to hear finally. But unfortunately it's just a mellow guitar song, so the novelty doesn't last long into it, since it's just as bland as her previous ones, it just puts you to sleep with different instruments.

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus - no intro whatsoever, just a plain piano like the practice of a beginner child, repetitive singing, lullaby song. Nothing distinctive, the same stripped back production, drags on forever.

How Did It End? - piano ballad, boring, sleepy, thesaurus lyrics, repetitive, and yet it's not the worst one so far. But we're probably past that point.

So High School - is that... an instrument? Oh, because she "feels high school" (we know, we've heard the lyrics) she made a pop rock sounding song. She barely sings on it, though, so all the momentum is once again suffocated. A breath of fresh air to hear something a little bit different from the dead slime I've been wading through, and this is hardly a compliment for this song. Also, she CANNOT sing.

I Hate It Here - slow guitar song again stuffed with repetitive verbosity to the point where you can't tell what's going on with the production. But it's okay, because nothing is ever going on. Skipped through 2/3 of it.

thanK you aIMee - boring, repetitive nothing. Barely any singing again, every song sounds like she wanted an excuse to speak into a microphone in a monotone semblance of a melody that goes nowhere.

I Look In People's Windows - a song filled with silence again, absolutely zero production, skipped over 2/3 again.

The Prophecy - nothing song, too much singing - sorry, monotone speaking. Zero melody, skipping through it I land on the same plain low note every time.

Cassandra - silence song again, nonexistent production, verbose, stands out with nothing.

Peter - another ballad I can't get through. At least this one has some structure, but again too much aimless verbosity. Skipped the last minute.

The Bolter - how is this not the same auditory sludge I've been listening to for the last 2 hours? Lazy guitars, and boring production. Bland melody, monotone singing.

Robin - sounds the same as 20 other songs, the slow singing makes it even more painful. This song has NOTHING to redeem it. There's silence again and extremely monotone melody with barely any singing. Should have been an interlude, skipped half of it.

The Manuscript - another nothing song, I actually couldn't sit through more than 10 seconds. The only redeeming quality of it is that there's no more songs coming after it.

Overall this album is incohesive, full of incoherent monotone yapping. Her vocals are atrocious, I don't even want to go into that, the excruciatingly boring production was bad enough on its own. Luckily she barely tried to sing at all, every song was almost the same recycled flat note over an aimless elevator melody. However, the best part of it is that it's finally over. Special thanks to the people who provided the piracy link and made this unnecessarily long post possible. 🙏 Without you the world would be nothing.

#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #the tortured poets department: the anthology #music talk #listening to this album made my work day seem like a breeze. just so many bad things pale in comparison to the time i spent listening to it #really nice and welcome perspective shift #i was gonna listen to something else to cleanse my ears but i feel traumatized and just need to sit in silence for a little while

[whenitsdarkweilluminate]

Rotterdam 2020 – Semi-Final 2

Host: Netherlands Slogan: “Open Up” Participants: 41 Voting method: 12-point system (50/50 system - separated) Format: 2 Semi-Finals / Grand Final = the top 10 of semi 1 & 2 + the Big 5 + host

General Overview:

Well, there's not much to comment on here! As I said, SF2 is the more open semi this year. There's only 6 countries that I perceive as “safe” qualifiers in this one, which leaves 4 spots that are up in the air. The first half of this semi is kinda weak too.

Having said that, I think the 2020 winner is actually in this group - Iceland, Switzerland, or Bulgaria. Or it's Italy in the Big 5. I just don't see the juries giving Lithuania and Russia enough support to take the crown. Maybe Norway would've been a dark horse though.

Greece: Stefania - Superg!rl W!th an exclamat!on po!nt! Dream Team instrumentals usually dominate their songs - those quivering, unstable “B-B-B-BR-BRR” bursts are LOUD and overbearing. But they go hard and sound Greek. They're like a supernatural force overtaking you and your surroundings. After the approaching thunder-drum intro, the first one occurs right away (with castanets?) Then the verse minimizes to bass nudges and dull kicks; heightening midway. There's a slam, and the pre-chorus hums alongside light bucket drips, as Stefania's voice now jumps out. Another slam, and the little metal balls dropping accelerate; then a diversion of skipping broken ticks before the “drop” goes OFF with bass throbs. The drop also fills up with lyrics in the second half. Verse 2 quiets to traditional strings. And the bridge escalates via slicing strikes and an intense hum; leading to a big note, a haunting choir chant, horn roars, and one final drop. That bridge is my fave part. The song builds into the drops nicely, and I like the hazy atmosphere. But the comic book character metaphor is kinda cheesy. The lyrics mention Clark Kent's phone booth, a “super car” and X-ray vision. Stefania says girls don't need that stuff to feel powerful and be themselves. The song is about female empowerment (“There's no wonder it takes a woman” is certainly a pun) and finding your passion and identity in the darkness. Stefania also stands up against the detractors. But the message seems unfocused. She also acts as “your supergirl” to help humanity (which she does in the video). The lyrics also sound like they're about a relationship. The “girl/world”; “power/tower” rhymes are filler too.

My prediction: 80% (#19 odds/ #19 scoreboard app). This seems like a pretty safe qualifier. It stands out in a good way, but it's the kinda song that gets 17th-22nd place in the grand final. LIKELY.

Estonia: Uku Suviste - What Love Is “INEVERIMAGINEDTHEPOWER”... this rapid wordy chorus, where Uku crams too many syllables together, just does not work. I like when the “I neeeever kneeeew” slowdown cuts it off, but it just isn't enough. The song is too bland and dull. It begins with Uku taking a breath, then the first verse is a piano ballad, with this alien spaceship sound upon “beautiful surprises”. It has a night sky vibe. There's a heavy thud and an eerie wind, then the chorus initially holds back, with tickles and patters. Then, after a heartbeat thump, Uku's voice rises and the percussion forcefully stomp-splashes, creating a quiet/loud contrast. The post-chorus then adds strings. Verse 2 is less tense with sharper drums, until the pre-chorus. The second chorus jumps right into it. And the bridge copies the chorus lyrics, while the vocals and production reduce to a steam leak. But nothing about this production is that special. The lyrics are sappy too. Uku remarks on how mysterious and surprising life is. That he never understood his old self. And that his aspirations in life weren't about finding a partner. Then he lists a bunch of examples of how you don't know something until you experience it. He was unaware of the power and necessity of love until now. It's a bit cringe how Uku takes his epiphany SO seriously; like this awakening was SO important. The dramatic production doesn't help with that either. This is the kind of song where I'm just waiting for it to be over. The Eesti Laul staging was boring too.

My prediction: 10% (#38 odds/ #38 scoreboard app). The least likely qualifier of SF2 imo. The song is a forgettable nothing-burger, and it was given the worst running order spot. NO CHANCE.

Austria: Vincent Bueno - Alive Austria are in their jury bait era. “Alive” is just too calculated and soulless for me. It's like the songwriters wanted to show off their polished technical craft, but in doing so, I cannot connect to the song. Vincent's Justin Timberlake tribute leaves me feeling cold too. And the intro is kinda pretentious. It spreads a message of freeing yourself from shackled thrones, and how we're all heroes behind our egos. While the piano is like elevator music, with brief subtle strings and echoes of “screaming”, which puts focus on Vincent's vocal flexing. The way he yells “SHACKLE BOLTS” annoys me. Weirdly, the rest of the lyrics are basic. He repeatedly says this person makes him feel alive again... and that's about it. He doesn't need much to ignite his mood, so prepare for “fire shots”. After that intro shuts down, the murky bass emerges, the computerized claps accelerate, there's a windy whoosh, and the funky bass-line takes over, briefly pulling the brakes on “hey!” The post-chorus adds showering synths as the melody fills out, ending on a crackle. Verse 2 maintains the momentum (and adds door knocks) until a synth blare; then the pre-chorus drops down and builds back up. The bridge emphasizes the bass-line, where Vincent whispers. And the song abruptly returns to the intro at the end, where the monarch is overthrown. The production is filled with quirky sounds. I like the funky bass and the “you make me feel like... oh oh oh” build-ups, but the “alive again x2” hook is annoying. The song has a self-confident vibe though.

My prediction: 50% (#31 odds/ #26 scoreboard app). I could see the juries pushing Austria through... and then they would receive <10 televote points in the grand final. “Amen” was only 11th with the juries, but “Alive” is more dynamic. The upbeat songs have an advantage in SF2 as well. It's very borderline though. BORDERLINE IN.

Moldova: Natalia Gordienko - Prison The studio version is better. Natalia needs a more powerful live vocal, since Dream Team productions are so dominant. She also awkwardly walks around some LED chairs and copies “Bulletproof”. The song opens with a dramatic slam, while a whistling flute alternates sides. Then the verse piano tickles, with a couple snowy echoes. Another slam and the bass hums, ending on a windy gasp. Another slam and the pre-chorus jumps out; intensifying midway after a rattle. Then the dark bubbling synth takes over, with plenty of chain clangs and electrical scatters. This chorus sounds like a large, dark, echoing prison. The whole “I don't want to be with/without you” repetition feels empty though. The chorus heightens upon the “PRISON!” yelp, where the flute returns. There's a breather afterwards. The synths arrive earlier the second time. The bridge is a bunch of screams appearing one at a time. And the production goes crazy at the end. It's a very entrapping atmosphere. The louder parts represent Natalia losing her mind, and the lyrics showcase her indecisiveness in wanting this person. There's a lot of “I don't want to...”s, and repeating lines with extra words. That “IdontwannaFEEL... you” melody also channels “Hijo de la luna”. She doesn't want to fight “inside”. She's trapped by the memories. She wishes for solitary confinement. The relationship feels like a prison. She doesn't want to be needy or desperate. These lyrics lack depth and Natalia's emotion seems unconvincing. The production is epic, but this sound only exists in K*rkorov's head; much like Russia 2014 & 2016.

My prediction: 25% (#33 odds/ #40 scoreboard app). Very poor fan reception, but Moldova are known for staging glow-ups, and Kontopoulos & K*rkorov have only NQ'ed once (Azerbaijan 2018). Still, I just don't see it happening with that NF performance. “Sugar”'s placing surprised me, but that had meme potential. UNLIKELY.

San Marino: Senhit - Freaky! Yeah... Senhit had the biggest upgrade in 2021. “Freaky!” cranks the camp factor up to an 11. I mean, she sells it, and it's a high energy upbeat song. But the chorus is annoying, particularly the “FREAKY! FREAKY! FREAKY!” group chants, with the percussion slaps. The song sounds tacky and cheap. And it's another dated disco instrumental from San Marino. The humming intro is like a pretty sunrise. The tiny guitar pings, “body” echoes, and finger snaps continue this peaceful vibe. I like how the opening verse melody hangs on – it's different from the rest of the song. Then, a helicopter flutters by, and the drums and funky bass take over, with some brake screeches. The chorus adds disco strings and synth vomits. Then the intro verse returns. Then it's the chorus again. And the bridge is a disco instrumental break, leading to a group chant moment, and a power down effect. The backing singers sound like they're at a party. But the second half of the song keeps repeating the same 3 stanzas, as if they ran out of ideas. And Senhit sings the “freaky”s and “And life goes by...” with a mocking tone. In the lyrics, she's smitten. Her whole body feels a sensation from this person's touch. The couple are into PDA's, and people call them “freaky”, and think she's pretending to like it (does “freaky” imply public sex?) But they don't care. They like being freaky! They'll break the rules! Life is too short! The song has a 'free yourself and party' kinda vibe. But the more I listen to it, the more annoying and empty it is.

My prediction: 10% (#37 odds/ #41 scoreboard app). Very poor fan reception. The song is too kitschy and dated, and San Marino struggles to qualify most years anyways. This is a contender for last place in the semi. The staging would have to be incredible to save it. NO CHANCE.

Czech Republic: Benny Cristo - Kemama I love that Czechia chose an Afro-beats song. It's not a genre you often hear in Eurovision. But “Kemama” isn't very catchy, is it? The “I wasn't always like that / I wasn't born like that...” build-up is great (with the sliced-up bangs afterwards), but it builds to nothing. The chorus is flat. It's a 'chill vibes only' kinda song though. It opens with a summery guitar and dull synth drips, as Benny lists the producer tags. Then (a subdued version of) the chorus starts things off, with restless taps, little guitar twiddles, and bead shaker swipes. Things intensify with Benny's raised voice and the claps. Then the pre-chorus synths stop/start to build hype. And the new chorus percussion skips along. The second verse/chorus are elevated by horns. The bridge is a foot-dance drum breakdown, then he shouts the last chorus transition. And a wild outdoor drum commotion finishes things off. There's a lot going on in this instrumental, but it's never too much. The lyrics involve Benny and his mother reversing roles - he's now giving her advice. He reassures her he'll be okay. She needn't worry what others say about him. He's become independent with a big heart. He refutes the idea he's “lost his way” - no, he's sure of himself. He'll prove them wrong. He asserts he worked 24/7 to get here. He was bullied as a child, but was resilient thanks to his mother's advice. And now he just wants to dance and enjoy life – there's no need for fighting and prejudice. I like the message at least. I just wish it stood out more.

My prediction: 35% (#26 odds/ #34 scoreboard app). This sounds like nothing else in the contest, so it could be a shock Q. His Vidbir 2020 performance of “Kemama” was much better than whatever that trainwreck was in Eurovision 2021. But I don't think it's catchy enough to Q. UNLIKELY.

Serbia: Hurricane - Hasta la vista This is fun and catchy but it's kinda monotonous. I love the fierce attitude though. The narrator leaves her cheating partner by throwing that Arnold quote in his face! She takes control and decides when it's over: “1, 2, 3 and it's the end! Your time is up!”; “Take it or leave it!”. She blames him for her insomnia. They don't even talk to each other. He can't handle her 'craziness'. And she says he made the wrong choice. “Oh, well, sorry you didn't like me”! Hurricane expresses 0 regrets or doubts here. He blew his chances and they refuse to compromise - it's not “vanity”, it's self-respect. The song has a 'I'm so much better off now' vibe. The instrumental paints the image of the trio fleeing on motorbikes. Maybe he was cheating with all 3 lol. The intro sounds like a vibrating tailpipe that cuts off. Then the Blackpink horns and claps hype things up, as the song swirls up and down. Then, after some glitchy beeps, the trap-y verses kick, buzz, roar and glitch. The pre-chorus switches to a clappy build-up, ending on a deep vocal distortion. Then the chorus speeds/bounces forward with drum rattles; pulling back for catchy stutter responses. The verses also have responses. The post-chorus is like the pre-verse. Verse #2 completely stops twice for submerged vocal bits. And the bridge is a bigger clappy build-up, but it doesn't build to anything new. In Beovizija, Hurricane have great stage presence. That version adds army boot stomps, while the LED keeps displaying “HURRICANE”, and shows an army of women at the end.

My prediction: 75% (#23 odds/ #20 scoreboard app). This is basically the same song as “Loco Loco” so I expect the same result. It's catchy and they had a solid live performance in 2021. Plus, Serbia sounds like a step-up after the last few songs in the running order. LIKELY.

Poland: Alicja - Empires This sounds like a James Bond theme, and I mean that as a positive. The violin intro paints the image of Alicja standing in the ruins after her city burned down. It sets a mournful mood with the somber piano. There's a light thump, then the orchestral strings flicker on/off and tip-toe. The pre-chorus quickly increases the volume. Then the drums take over the chorus, with idle strings, changing the mood into feeling powerless watching this tragedy unfold; until it falls into a thud on “rise and fall”. Verse 2 adds waddling footsteps. The next chorus has a dramatic jittery start. The bridge quiets to piano and cello. The piano slows to a stop before the final chorus. And Alicja ends on a huge scream. The song is about climate change (as seen in the video), and how the world's empires are close to crumbling down. Every empire in history fell at some point. We're not immune. Alicja remarks that it happens so easily and asks if it's our fault. She feels guilty for staying in an escapist reality. She says we hope for change but we don't do it. And she cries “We just want it all”! There's also several idioms: “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust” (we'll be a part of Earth again someday), “Fool's gold” (our possessions have fake value), “Moths to a flame” (we're addicted to harmful stuff). Maybe it's preachy in saying our lifestyles will lead to destruction, but Alicja sings with genuine concern. I also like her distinct vocal and the song's dire atmosphere. The NF performance looks like karaoke night with the scrolling lyrics.

My prediction: 50% (#20 odds/ #23 scoreboard app). Poland is usually a televote-friendly country, and this is a jury-friendly song, so... win/win? SF2 is more ballad-heavy, but I think her voice makes this one stand out. Although this would probably flop in the grand final. That NF staging needs improvement too. BORDERLINE IN.

Iceland: Daði og Gagnamagnið - Think About Things “Baybay... I. Can't. Wait. To. Know.” No, he's talking to an actual baby (his newborn daughter.) Dadi is curious to know what she's thinking about, since he can't understand her yet. He promises to always be there, so she can tell him anytime! He wonders if she loves him back. And he says they're bonded forever, despite her essentially being a stranger. Dadi acts like babies can comprehend parental relationships. But I read these lyrics as sweet and not weird. Babies are an unknown, so it's natural to wonder who they'll grow up to be. The song itself has a nostalgic sound and a relaxing family time mood. It remains low-key the entire time, but still reaches a climax. Dadi's unusual vocal style and the harmonies are hypnotic too. There's a drowsy intro, with the mircowave-y vapor puffs and minimalist vocals, while this antsy wiggly thing grows. Then the synth 'pow's, the moving bass taps, the stationary foot taps, the backing “ah uh ah uh...”, and a quick drum 'ta-t-ta' get things moving (in that order). The verses move to a funky guitar and snaps. Then, after a double slap, the droopy chorus follows a bass guitar groove, as the snaps return midway. An excited horn break follows this, ending on a rolling drum. The next pre-chorus drops down. Chorus #2 is fuller. And the bridge horns anticipate the climactic final “BAAAABBY”. Those “BABY!” hooks are great. The Söngvakeppnin staging definitely stands out - the green pajamas, the pixelated faces, the strange instruments, the sideways struts, the face turns. This is a quirky entry, but a charming and polished one. And the song's groove/rhythm is very interesting and unique.

My prediction: 99% (#4 odds/ #3 scoreboard app). Probably the SF2/grand final televote winner as well. The juries had Iceland pretty high in 2021, so yeah, I think this would've been the Eurovision 2020 winner. LOCKED.

Switzerland: Gjon's Tears - Répondez-moi I initially found this boring. But it captures a feeling of existential dread really well. It's a relatable message in today's world. In the lyrics, Gjon asks life's unanswerable questions. He starts small with why does rain exist? But soon turns serious with why does death exist? He also mentions being separated from his family, and feeling like a stranger in his new and old homes (his parents are from Albania and Kosovo). He later asks why do we keep running? Why do we pray differently? And why future generations are screwed. In the chorus, Gjon is tired of guessing and begs for answers – and no BS ones. But there's no resolution; we're all stuck guessing forever. The verses repeat every question, showing how unrelenting they are. He doesn't beat around the bush either. The song moves very slowly and it has a very serious tone. But Gjon's vulnerability makes it work. He projects sadness really well. And it's a very personal song. The intro is this vibrating hum that lingers for a bit, like white noise. The first verse continues this uneasy silence, only adding tiny guitar pings, and a piano midway. While the chorus inserts strings, “ah uh AHHH...” hooks, and ends on a falsetto scream. The percussion waits until verse 2 to arrive, where the echoing snaps and stomps convey painful frustration. Chorus #2 adds a bleak soldier-marching snare and echoing strikes. And the bridge falls into silence before Gjon screams over the last chorus – I love this climax. His vocals are great too. I can really feel the emotion in this.

My prediction: 99% (#3 odds/ #2 scoreboard app). And this is probably the SF2/grand final jury winner. I mean, Gjon did just that in 2021. Plus, if he can communicate the message through the staging, this will have televote appeal. But will we get two sadboy ballad Eurovision winners in a row? LOCKED.

Denmark: Ben and Tan - Yes This is so aggressively catchy. Depending on my mood, “Yes” is either a banger or it's annoying AF. The chorus is a super potent singalong that's impossible to ignore - every single word of it pops out. It's also excessively upbeat. So, Denmark takes us back to the mid-2010s folk-pop trend. The song starts with acoustic guitar slaps and a stomp-along beat, while Ben & Tan trade leads. The verse winds down upon “give life one more chance”. Then, after a “HEY!” shout, the chorus heightens and occupies the entire surroundings. This part conveys how overwhelmingly strong their feelings are. There's fluttering claps, more stomps, emphatic “SAY YES! SAY YES! SAY YES!” releasing shouts that echo across the arena, and an “ooooh” post-chorus that sounds like bagpipes. Verse 2 introduces the violent strikes (that hit the ground full force from excitement), which reappear later on. The bridge reduces to minimal guitar, before one last “ooooh” creates an epic build into the final chorus - I like that pause when it hits. And the song ends on a softer moment. The lyrics are straightforward. It's about them giving love (or life?) another chance despite what they're dealing with. Tan felt bitter, sad, and lonely because she would've died for her ex. While Ben was controlled by fear and didn't think he could be happy while sober. But everything's changed now they've found each other! The archery lyric goes with the folk song imagery too. In the audience-less DMGP final, the LED flashes “YES”, while Ben & Tan have strategic stage positioning.

My prediction: 85% (#15 odds/ #17 scoreboard app). This is WAAAY too catchy and polished to not make it, and their DMGP performance was pretty solid. Juries love catchy radio pop as well. I predict top 15 in the final. LOCKED.

Albania: Arilena Ara - Fall from the Sky I don't mind if Albania keeps sending female ballads. Arilena's powerful voice really elevates this one, even if the cliché wings metaphor weakens the chorus a bit. She makes that chorus impactful regardless, with the “SKY-Y-Y-Y-UH-Y” cries and “HOLD BACK... MY WINGS...” pauses. She sings with SO much conviction, like she's fighting for her life. I can hear her suffering. And she sounds like Katy Perry lol. Her voice also dominates over the instrumental. Which makes sense, since Arilena is regaining her autonomy from an abusive partner. She hides all the pain they caused, in order to deny them the satisfaction that the absue “worked”. They made her doubt her faith. They lied. They controlled her. But she's resilient! I love when Arilena switches to anger in the bridge - it shows she's no longer afraid. The Albanian version is much darker, where murder seems like the only escape. But the revamped instrumental is more dramatic and... harsh I guess? There's a sharp, ice cold piano intro that slows down. Then, after a rumble, the piano dejectedly softens, before picking itself up. There's a cymbal crash, the chorus strings weep, and the drums and metallic echoes summon strength within. Verse 2 adds a woodblock, and skip-splashes at the end. The bridge breaks free. Then the tension builds with strings and drum bangs, until it breaks upon “FLYYYYY”. The icy piano returns, there's a loud strike, the drums/strings resume, and she literally “screams inside” in a big note. That last chorus transition is so good. Finally, the song crashes down and the outro goes a cappella.

My prediction: 60% (#28 odds/ #18 scoreboard app). This probably would've placed... 17th in the grand final. Albania's female ballads are usually borderline qualifiers, but Arilena's vocals and the big dramatic chorus should be enough. BORDERLINE IN.

Finland: Aksel - Looking Back Last year, Finland said “Look Away”, this year they're “Looking Back”! This one is a personal, heartfelt ballad, where Aksel provides a comforting, sentimental vocal. The lyrics are relatable too. It's about the uneasiness of growing up, and how we don't appreciate our youth until it's over... and then we're nostalgic for it. We're too fixated on achieving a dream job (the “high life”) or on current woes (the “low lights”). Aksel also reminisces over his youth – sharing dreams with friends; the impatience to turn 18; being naive, clueless and confused about stuff; going to parties; acting carelessly. These memories give him comfort. Indeed, the song has a 'don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened' kinda vibe. There's a chilly wind intro, then the first verse is a calm piano ballad, as the autumn winds reappear. A shimmer starts the chorus, where the “HIIIIGH LIFE”/ “LOOOW LIGHTS” shouts hang off a cliff, and the following line relaxes. It isn't the catchiest chorus ever, but it's fine. Verse 2 introduces the dense, stuttering kicks (like a dribbling basketball); which turn splashy in the next pre-chorus. Chorus 2 is fuller and maintains the kicks. But there's no bridge, and that chorus is repeated for a full minute, where nothing changes. I wish there was more *to* this song. The outro reduces to little guitar echoes. Aksel's UMK performance seems heartfelt. The LED shows moving dashes, red lights (to match that lyric), and chalk drawings of kids hanging out and dating.

My prediction: 45% (#27 odds/ #33 scoreboard app). This could be a shock qualifier because of the the juries, but I'm not convinced the televote would go for this. There's so many ballads in the second half, and I don't see this surpassing Poland or Albania. BORDERLINE OUT.

Armenia: Athena Manoukian - Chains on You Eurovision mostly avoids trap music, so this is refreshing. Athena's confident attitude, her flow (“I start it, I make it...”), her “yuh yuh yuh”s, the slurred auto-tuned “diamonds on you”, the “chains on chains on you” mumbles, and the background “woo”s and breathing are what trap needs. She can't sound stiff. Plus the production constantly adds or removes layers at the right moments. It's never overdone or messy. The most prominent layer is the steel drum loop. It starts in the intro and moves ominously in single steps. There's a creepy finger-fidget descent, then the scraping trap beat arrives, with broken metal rattles added in next. The pre-chorus bass bubbles, with a gunshot midway, then the rattles return. The next part switches to claps, bass pulls, and alarm roars. The music stops on the unclear words, then the chorus resumes the first beat. The 2nd verse adds a rapid 'eh-eh-eh' thing. Then the beat minimizes to introduce the frosty warnings. The next clappy part removes the bass midway. The bridge is a bunch of dramatic bangs and muffled “hurt me”s. And the outro electrifies. It's a dark and dangerous, bass-heavy instrumental. It paints the image of meeting up in a sketchy place at night. In the song, Athena knows her admirer has naughty intentions. But she's in control and sets the terms – he must accept she's independent and ambitious. She doesn't care if he leaves. The diamonds are a metaphor for self-worth, since they only shine on her. He assumes she's not interested, but Athena turns seductive in the clappy parts, using “boy” lures and “hurt me!”s. She'll put him in chains too! How kinky. She shows 0 nerves sitting next to him either. The national final had poor sound quality, but there's male dancers and a throne.

My prediction: 60% (#22 odds/ #15 scoreboard app). I think this would've been the “Hvala, ne!” of 2020. It would benefit from the second half having so many ballads, and it sounds modern. It's a polarizing genre, but that might actually help it stand out. It probably wouldn't do much in the grand final though. BORDERLINE IN.

Portugal: Elisa - Medo de sentir This might be the most forgettable entry of 2020. The rising “eeeEEEE” hooks stand out, but the melody is weak and it's a generic FDC ballad. The song is just boring to me. Elisa's delivery seems heartfelt though. She's afraid to love again because of previous failed relationships. She rejects anyone who invites her in. Their gestures make her nervous. Their “I love you”s sound fake, and she doesn't believe they'll stay. Her loneliness won't stop. But she wasn't always putting her guard up. In the bridge, she ultimately asks if they'll wait for her, meaning she hasn't given up. I get the sense she wants to change. The song opens with a “da-DA-da-DA-dun” piano sequence, and it remains a depressed piano ballad for the first verse, while Elisa gives a gentle and vulnerable vocal. The verse ends with a “tah-ha ha-ha” and an “mm-hmm”. Then the chorus introduces the foot thuds, as the piano becomes louder. The instrumental stops midway, then a subtle woodblock appears. Verse #2 adds the strings. Chorus #2 adds the triple drum bangs. Then the pace finally picks up in the bridge, where the drums roam free. This leads to a big note climax, as the piano/drum bangs escalate - it's the moment when Elisa has had enough. The song goes silent afterwards, until the slices appear. And the last chorus has thunderous drums. But this instrumental isn't the most interesting. And the song isn't noticeable enough. Elisa gives an emotional performance in FDC. She sings to the pianist at one point.

My prediction: 20% (#36 odds/ #32 scoreboard app). I think this is too forgettable to qualify, and the other ballads in SF2 have more going for them. UNLIKELY.

Georgia: Tornike Kipiani - Take Me as I Am This just isn't my thing. Tornike's screaming is grating (especially the long notes and the “ME” and “GERMAN” growls). The song is excruciatingly slow. The instrumental feels like I'm drowning in quicksand. And the lyrics call out anti-Georgian xenophobia by... listing stereotypes of other countries. So basically, Tornike is whining about Europe not loving Georgia's Eurovision entries. He's discouraged from being himself, and expected to assimilate to western culture. But he'd rather be authentic, and loved for that. The lyrics only mention the Big 5 countries, so I guess he's mad they get a free pass, while Georgia NQs. In the chorus, the female backing says “I love you” in those 5 languages to give him validation. I get Tornike's point, but it comes across like he's guilt-tripping us into sympathizing with him. As for the production, the intro guitar is like static electricity scattering. Then the verse starts restrained, with deep guitar, deep vocals, and buzzing bass; like we're deep underground. But once the song shifts, his voice changes, and the intense background is overwhelming AF - it's like standing next to a vacuum cleaner. It's just a stationary wall of noise. The percussion kicks, echoes and bone-cracks also move slowly. The chorus doesn't offer any variation, and the long “youuuu”s and “aaaaam”s drag on. Verse 2 thankfully pauses the vacuum, if only briefly, for some subtler sounds. Chorus 2 adds the orchestra. And the song ends with a horn and a cymbal.

My prediction: 45% (#14 odds/ #27 scoreboard app). This is the hardest one to predict. People will either love it or hate it. But Georgia's other left-field entries didn't qualify (like 2012, 2014, 2019, and 2022) and I think the juries would tank this too. BORDERLINE OUT.

Bulgaria: Victoria - Tears Getting Sober Billie Eilish's influence didn't take long to reach Eurovision. Victoria uses a similar minimalist vocal style, and the backing “mHmHm”s mimic Billie's vocal layering. But this combination creates a cool texture regardless. “TGS” opens with those ghostly hums alternating sides; followed by an icy 'ding... ding... ↓wind down↓'. Then Victoria's voice and the bare piano are very intimate and personal. The humming returns for the chorus, with some “i-uh-i-uh-i” hooks, but it's still pretty bare. Verse 2 adds a tiny harp(?) that ticks like a clock. The new pre-chorus has a backing wail. The next chorus adds the strings, pausing for an “mHmHm” midway. And the bridge recoils into this quivering thing. But then... the strings grow (thru the “GROOOW” climax) and fall down, the horns rise back up, and that final chorus gives me the chills. Victoria's voice and the orchestra breathtakingly soar, with a midway rise-up. The song quiets upon “scar”; ending with a clarinet(?) and one last hum. “TGS” is a modernized version of the grand, sophisticated ballads of the past. It does a good job of holding back patiently until the climax. In the lyrics, Victoria sarcastically says “great!” - her mental health is affecting her 10 times a day. She knows she has to let go of the pain and the burden. She'll move on in time, but the scar leaves a mark. There's a couple of unusual phrases, like “sugar in my wounds” instead of salt, implying they're sweet lies. Plus the song title – I guess “sober” means “dry”. And the dirt metaphor comparing her to a plant. Later in the song, Victoria is amazed by her growth. It's her first time trying too! And the grandiose finale symbolizes her transformation.

My prediction: 99% (#1 odds/ #4 scoreboard app). It's one of the 6 winner contenders of 2020, and this would do really well with juries. The Billie Eilish vibes might appeal to the televoters too, since that makes it modern. She could just sit on a bench like the music video, and I think it would work. LOCKED.

Latvia: Samanta Tīna - Still Breathing WTF is this drop? It sounds like an elephant struggling to sneeze; with glass shatters thrown in. It's so rigid and it keeps getting blocked off in an unsatisfying way. Which is a shame, because I like the rest of the song. It has a good message - as long as you're still alive, it's not too late to grow or change. The recurring, circling, distant chants of “I will keep on going / I will keep on running...” are a mantra to motive yourself, believe in yourself, and control your destiny. The chants sound resolute and ominous; like they're coming from a poorly lit, abandoned gym. The song opens and closes with them. The intro also leaks steam midway, followed by irregular clock ticks. Then the kick-clap trap beat takes over, while ejecting several blares. The verses swing in midair, and the trap beat remains in the later chants. There's another leak, then the popping squeaks and the backing responses anticipate the drop. Verse 2 reduces to those squeaks before the beat returns. Samanta raps over the second drop. There's a breather before building to the third. And the song ends on a 'DO-DO-DO-DO'. So, Samanta felt like giving up and staying in bed. Her life was going nowhere. But she's not looking back anymore. Now she pushes herself to improve everyday. The build-up into the drop signals her growing strength. And the rap section mentions her ambition and self-love. There's also that “Life is music/I am a composer” lyric lol. In Supernova, the 3 backing singers wore face shields and used spray bottles... it was 2020 after all. The flashing lights are overwhelming though.

My prediction: 40% (#35 odds/ #21 scoreboard app). I think this is just too experimental for Eurovision. That “drop” might instantly turn some people off, particularly the juries. Also, “The Moon Is Rising” was last place in the semi, and Latvia has one of the worst qualification records. And I can't see BOTH Armenia and Latvia qualifying. But... it does stand out, so BORDERLINE OUT.

Predictions recap... Locked: Iceland, Switzerland, Bulgaria, Denmark Likely: Greece, Serbia Borderline in: Armenia, Albania, Austria, Poland Borderline out: Georgia, Finland, Latvia Unlikely: Czechia, Moldova, Portugal No chance: Estonia, San Marino

SF2 Winner: Iceland Jury winner: Switzerland or Bulgaria Televote winner: Iceland Last place: San Marino

My Ranking:

01. Iceland: Daði og Gagnamagnið - Think About Things 02. Bulgaria: Victoria - Tears Getting Sober 03. Armenia: Athena Manoukian - Chains on You 04. Switzerland: Gjon's Tears - Répondez-moi 05. Poland: Alicja - Empires 06. Albania: Arilena Ara - Fall from the Sky 07. Serbia: Hurricane - Hasta la vista 08. Latvia: Samanta Tīna - Still Breathing 09. Finland: Aksel - Looking Back 10. Denmark: Ben and Tan - Yes

11. Czech Republic: Benny Cristo - Kemama 12. Moldova: Natalia Gordienko - Prison 13. Greece: Stefania - Superg!rl 14. Portugal: Elisa - Medo de sentir 15. San Marino: Senhit - Freaky! 16. Austria: Vincent Bueno - Alive 17. Estonia: Uku Suviste - What Love Is 18. Georgia: Tornike Kipiani - Take Me as I Am

[vitaminwaterreviews]

NCT 127 - Sticker

I really don’t know what to think about this album as a whole. Wikipedia tells me that it won a daesang at AAA, and it charted incredibly well. The title track was just SO weird, and not really in a good way. I know the incominggggg producer from some other songs, and this was definitely not my favorite work of his. The album managed to feel kind of empty to me, kind of like the fromis_9 album I listened to a couple days ago. But at the same time, I liked several songs, I liked their sounds and the neat extras that they did. The album was certainly cohesive, and the songs were distinct, so … I dunno why I didn’t really vibe with it as a whole. Maybe I’m just not in the mood. Average rating is 7.3, which I think is fair. There were some very good songs in here, many of which I’ll be adding to my playlist, but the album as a whole felt like it didn’t do enough for me. It is largely hip hop influenced, so maybe I’m missing some lyrical nuance, but I’ve gotta judge musically. That said, this is the second ever boy group album I’ve listened to, after Don’t Mess Up My Tempo (6.9), and I definitely did prefer this one, both in the rating and in actuality.

- Sticker

Very curious samples, as expected from NCT

Incomingggg

This MV feels very black mamba so far

Haha and then the piano just casually walks into it

I’m so confused

Like it’s original, sure, but I don’t get it yet.

Yeah, it’s no Cherry Bomb. Also I should mention that Cherry Bomb is the only NCT song I know

Oh okay well this section is different at least

I’m just not convinced, that wasn’t enough to really tie it together

7/10

Lemonade

This definitely feels more cohesive than the previous song

I notice the bass much more

I also really really like the vocalist’s tone hear, low and sultry

And now we build

Antidrop

Lol did he just skrrt?

He totally did haha

Yeah I thin OMG he just said Cherry Bomb ily

Yeahhh this is good

8/10, good, solid, I like it

Breakfast

Oh okay, nice and thicc bass, I like the beat

Yeah, house music, I do like house music

I dunno. It’s good, I don’t know if it does enough for me

Mmm I dunno what changed but I love the end here

8/10

Focus

And now our voices are high and light

This definitely feels like the least … intense of the songs so far

Like all the floaty and airy vocals

The background music is still Thicc and Bassy though

Except whatever that synth is doing the harmonies, that’s a cool sound

Nice little ad libs

Yeah I hear these vocal harmonies, don’t think I don’t

8/10

The Rainy Night

Well, we start with piano and vocalizations, as we’d expect

Haha what is this rnb slow jam bullshit, this isn’t the NCT we know and love

(I actually quite like this to be clear)

Actually this feels kind of Exo to me

8/10, very pretty, well produced

Far

What does this song remind me of?

This song totally reminds me of something

I love the vocal colors in the pre-chorus

I dunno though, again, I just want more out of this song. I feel like they’re relying a lot on their sound

Okay, the nananana part is nice, much needed

Ah, here we are, the SM bridge

7/10

Bring The Noize

No real comments so far, this is … kind of boring, musically

Even the pre-chorus vwooooom is kind of meh

Yeah, the chorus sure does noise

Damn even the SM bridge is kind of a letdown

I guess his low sexy voice is low and sexy

5/10, but don’t get me wrong. I think this song does what they want it to do perfectly, I just don’t like what they’re trying to do

Magic Carpet Ride

Haha and now we get some mellow electric piano stuff

I’m still not totally convinced

Also: in terms of the album so far, I like what they’re going for. It’s artsy, but cohesive, and that’s what we want in an album

7/10, good, nothing special

Road Trip

Haha and now we’re proper poppy

I dunno though, like I think Exo would do this song better for some reason

Not that NCT do it poorly, it’s just … kind of bland?

7/10

Dreamer

Trombone! A whole brass section, wow

I’ll tell you what, if nothing else, they’re trying to keep the album interesting all the way through

I do appreciate these vocal harmonies here, or the singing with rapping behind it, I dunno what it is

The chorus might be better if it wasn’t a group chorus

I’m reminded of Sweet Summer Day for some reason

7/10

Promise You

Woahh hear this bass in the background?

They’re definitely making it feel all epic like with those saws

And I love the intensity of the synth in the foreground

8/10

#album #kpop #NCT #NCT 127

[struggle-but-its-all-ocean-floor]

Lmao i found central cee's verse hilarious too but overall I really like the song. Jungkook sounds so good and I'm blown away by his English. It just keeps getting better and better. The mv was trash tho.. like I couldn't tell if they were actually together or if it was horrible green screen 😬

I heard on Twitter that kid laroi said originally it was supposed to be Justin bieber and not jungkook, but he thought jungkooks' voice suited the song better. I think the song should've been jungkook, the kid laroi, and Justin bieber instead of central cee

The song is nice, like the instrumental and beat is really nice and the song is well produced, but I don't really enjoy The Kid Laroi's voice and Central Cee's verses make me laugh each time which isn't a good thing exactly. I don't mind the song and it gives me a chuckle. It's also a different sound from JK, which I appreciate, but Central Cee is a meme and I don't enjoy his rap (not talking about the lyrics) or tone, and TKL's tone is kinda bland and whiny and a bit unpleasant. Once again, I don't like the other artists although the instrumental is really nice. TKL and CC just bring down the quality of the song too much (no pun intended). It just sounds trashy to me (no offense) while the instrumental and JK's vocals are sophisticated and warm.

I also wish Jungkook had more verses. He sounds so good (but the way he sings again the second time is a bit rushed), opens the song so well, and his English is impeccable. Still, after a while it gets boring and I'm left wanting more. I wanted to hear more of him in that style, I wanted him hit a high note, do some vocals runs, rap a bit, I don't know, something. This song very much feels like L&R all over again. His adlibs are nice though. I really like the outro (no CC or TKL).

Justin Bieber would've annoyed me too, but the world would've imploded with all three of them (mainly JK and JB).

This is why I pretty much only listen to kpop. I can't seem to like most pop vocalists' voices - it's either cursive singing or aggressively bland and emotionless vocals. You know how some American accents are painfully American? When I hear American tourists the accent is so intense and aggressive and lowkey makes them sound privileged and entitled (no offense to Americans). American (and Australian or whatever) singers often sound like that - like their tone is really plain and colorless? Jungkook's tone is warm while TKL's is kinda cold and soulless, and reminds me of bleach? I've no idea how to explain this. I swear I prefer weak kpop singers over TKL, JB, CP, etc. even if I know they are capable singers at least.

On the plus side, people seem to be liking Too Much more than 3D. The fact that Jungkook's the feature and that the lyrics are harmless (although dumb) means no one is too upset by it. Redditors seem to like TKL and Central Cee as well, which surprised me.

Thanks for the ask!

#ask #bts #jungkook #text #thanks for the ask!

[richardleerutgersblog]

ZEZE: The Most Unique Rap Song I've Ever Listened To

When asked to think of a song that I think of purely based on how it sounds, this was the first song that came to mind. Usually people focus on the lyrics of a song, but I actually happen to focus more on the melody of a song, and how it sounds versus the lyrics (not that I don't think lyrics are important). There are many songs that fit this criteria of "sounding good" however that are not many that come to mind in terms of uniqueness. In my opinion, there are some songs that are simply too bland to write a piece on. Which is why ZEZE, while not my favorite song in the world, there's no mistake that it is definitely unique.

What makes ZEZE unique is first the instrumentals of the song. Don't get me wrong, I know as little about the intricacies and specifics about music as the next guy, and yet even I was able to immediately pick up on the fact that this song is different from the rest. I'm one who rarely notices small details in songs, so the fact that I am able to remember the sound of that steel drum that is played in the song all these years later from its 2018 release, speaks on its uniqueness. Many find that  "'Zeze' has this islandy feel to it, but at the same time, some boom" (RGM), an I couldn't agree more. The iconic sound of the steel drum was something that really made you feel relaxed and at peace as if you quite literally were on an island. This is one of the few songs (apart from maybe Christmas songs) where I am able to have a complete visual in my head, simply by hearing the instruments and beat of a song. I remember being a freshman in high school when this song came out, and would always picture myself relaxing on the beach with a nice breeze, palm trees, and calming waters, when in reality I was on a cold icy bus ride on the way to school.

Usually, when i picture raps songs, I always envision a stereotypical trap beat with a more dark and intense beat. This song completely goes against my norms for rap, which is why I think I particularly enjoyed it so much. It was such a unique song for its time in my opinion, and it was really nostalgic thinking back on the times where I would listen to this song so frequently. However, the song does have one major flaw that I recall. The features on this song were what carried it in its success, Travis Scott and Offset fit the beat perfectly, and really gave off and matched the intended vibes of the song. I cannot say the same for Kodak however, and many reviews online seem to agree. For instance, some say that they are "entirely guilty of skipping the song once I hear him open up his verse and I am sure I am not the only one. He simply just does not fit his own song" (WIX Blog). There's something about the way that his voice sounds that conflicts with the calming nature of the song. His voice has this high-pitched and scratchy tone to it that I just can't get around, which causes him to seem very out of place when his verse comes on. However, I do believe that once you get around this, the song does get better when Travis Scott especially hops on the beat.

In general however, while this song is definitely the most unique sounding songs I've heard, its certainly not the best but nor the worst either. This song was very mediocre in my opinion, and wasn't a song that I would really recommend with that "must play" factor in it. However, if I were to recommend a song that is extremely unique in its instrumental and is something you will remember with many years to come, ZEZE has my pick.

#Zeze #rap #travis scott #offsett #kodakblack #kodak black #off #sett #travisscott #sound #music #drum #steel #steeldrum #beat #Spotify

[inkandpen22]

Permanent Chaos (5/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

Part Summary: Colson and Y/N talk over coffee and Colson shows her a hint of what it’s like to be a part of his world. 

Masterlist

The Starbucks in the courtyard has since emptied out with everyone having to return to work after their breaks. Colson and I are two of the only remaining people inside. My hands are wrapped around cup, it’s nice and warm. I had to remove the lid to cool down the substance. We’ve been going back and forth, sharing facts about ourselves. 

"Have you always wanted to be an actress?” 

Studying the dark brown drink in my cup I recall memories from before I moved here.“No, in all honesty. I never saw myself as an actress.” 

He doesn’t try to hide his surprise. His stunned reaction makes me giggle. 

"If you don’t mind me asking, why do you do it then?” 

I sway my head from side to side. “It sorta just worked out. I was out shopping with my mom one day when I was in high school. Nicole approached us. She was in town on business and encouraged me to at least visit Los Angeles so we could set up a meeting. The next thing I knew I was in auditions and I got my part on The Seasons of Life a few months later.” 

“Wow,” his brows remain raised as he glances down at his drink. “If you weren’t acting what would you be doing?”

Sitting up straight, I remember what I once thought was my dream life. “First I would go to college and…” I wave my hand, dismissing the thought. 

Colson presses for me to say it. “you’d what? Come on!” He chuckles, grinning brightly. 

Rolling my eyes, I tell him. “I’d go to art school.” I bite my lip timidly. “Yeah... that would be nice.” I pick at the cardboard wrap on the cup. 

There’s a comfortable silence between us until I change the subject. “Enough about me! What about you? If you weren’t a singer, where would be right now?” 

He looks over in the distance, almost envisioning where his life would be. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” he shrugs but is pleased, “I’ve always loved music. Being in music allows me to do what I love.” 

I nod, almost impervious of him and his contentment. 

“However,” he adds pointing at me. “If it were up to my parents, I would have some office job probably.” 

"Eh, those jobs are so bland. I vote you stick to concerts," I giggle. 

He laughs and it’s contagious. 

My gaze lands on his arm as he reaches for his coffee. His entire arm is covered in ink. I was taught by my parents to despise tattoos. My mom would say, “why would anyone ever be willing to damage their body like that?” Finn jumped on that bandwagon. Whatever Mom says is considered fact to him. For the longest time, I agreed with them. That is until I met Colson. He was made to have tattoos. 

 I’ve seen many people in this city with tattoos but his aren’t just markings for the body, they’re art. 

“Which one are you interested in?” He questions, watching me as I admire them. 

“All of them,” I mumble, examining each one individually in awe. 

Back where I’m from tattoos are frowned upon quite frankly. When you grow up in a place no different than Pleasantville, that’s what you get. Especially, in South Carolina. 

“Do you have any?” He asks with amusement in his voice. 

I shake my head rapidly, “never in a million years!” Comprehending how he could take my response as an insult I’m quick to explain. “I mean, I would never be allowed.” 

His brows scrunch together. "Never been allowed? You’re an adult. Who’s stopping you?” 

I can’t help but snicker a little. If only it was as simple as he makes it sound. “My parents, brother, Nicole, Steph..." 

Colson narrows his eyes at me as he leans forward in his chair. “You’re your own person. You should be able to make your own decisions.” His argument is lacking and quite frankly too optimistic. 

“It’s complicated…” My eyes fall onto my fingers picking at the cardboard rim of my coffee cup. 

“If you say so… except all of them are keeping you from expressing yourself.” 

I roll my eyes as my lips form a smirk. It’s unbelievable, he makes everything sound so black and white. “You’ll never understand,” I conclude. 

“I understand more than you think.” 

Lifting my eyes up, he stares at me with a sincere expression. 

“Prove it,” I challenge him. 

Based on the change of his features, I have given him exactly what he wants.

"If you say so, Princess," he chuckles, rising from his chair. I stare at him in confusion and he offers me his hand. "You coming?" 

I smirk, slipping my hand into his. He grins and bites down on his lower lip. I'm going to regret this. 

_______________________________________________

Driving around with a guy I’m only acquainted to is completely unlike me. Everyone who knows me would be beyond freaked out at the current scene. It's kind of riveting. 

“We’ve been driving for almost an hour," I snicker. 

“It’ll be worth it, trust me!” 

“Where exactly are we going?” 

“The mystery is half the fun!” Colson enjoys the antics. 

I reach forward and change the radio station. Yungblud's "Parents" plays and I leave it. "Love this song," I mumble to myself. 

Colson glances over me, evidently surprised. "You know Dom's music?" 

"What? Just because you view me as a 'goody-two-shoes' doesn't mean I live under a rock." I giggle and hold my finger for him to wait a second. He chuckles. I begin to rap the lyrics from memory. "Yeah, the teacher fucked the preacher. But then he had to leave her. Had to wash away the sins of a male cheerleader. Hi, nice to meet ya, got nothing to believe in. So let me know when my breathing stops!" 

Colson turns up the volume to blasting and we then shout the chores together. I can’t remember the last time I had the chance to drive with the windows down, blasting music, and acting my age. I’ve forgotten what’s it like to just be a young girl, not working all the time. 

Once the song fades out, he turns down the volume. 

"So, she can rap too!" Colson looks at me, rather impressed. 

I dismiss his compliment with a wave of my hand. "Only if I've listened to a song a dozen times." 

"Not gonna lie, that was hot," he chuckles. 

Warmth rushes to my cheeks and I struggle not to smile. My head rests against the window as I watch the ocean become a blur as we drive down the PCH. 

_______________________________________

Colson drives down the road until there’s a dead end. To my surprise and then confusion, he parks the car. 

“We’re here!" He announces before jumping out of the car. 

There’s nothing here. Bushes, sad-looking trees, and dirt. I watch as he walks over to a clearing between some bushes. 

He peers over his shoulder. “You coming?” 

I take a deep breath and swing open the door. Following him to wherever we are, I spot a sign. 

                                   No Trespassing! 

“Hey Colson, that sign said no trespassing. We should go back.” 

He doesn’t even slow down as he walks down a weak path. “I’ve seen it, they never do anything.” 

With every passing moment, this road trip becomes more and more out of my comfort zone. Nicole and my entire team for that matter have guided me to prefer the indoors these past few years. I can’t remember the last time I spent an entire day outside in nature or not following a schedule. 

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel when the brush ends and the path opens up to a clearing. The sound of waves hitting the cliff before us echoes throughout the area. 

I cautiously step closer to the edge and look down to the bottom. “Wow!” I say to myself breathlessly. 

Colson peers down to the shoreline beside me. He then suddenly removes his jacket and moves on to his shirt. 

My jaw drops and I quickly direct my attention to the coastline far from him. I bring my hand to the side of my face shyly, blocking my sight of him undressing. “What the hell are you doing?” 

He chuckles behind me. I’m glad he can find so much amusement in my discomfort. “Cliff diving!” He says a matter of factly. 

“What! No you couldn’t! It’s illegal in these parts! You could get killed!” 

“Or, I’ll jump, have loads of fun and do it again!” He debates. 

I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “Fine, you live out your death wish. I won’t be participating!” Whipping around and avoiding even sharing a short glance with him, I stomp toward the direction we came. 

He drops his shirt on top of his jacket in the grass and jogs to catch up to me. He squeezes my shoulder, using the other hand to plea with me. I whip my head around to face him. That's when I notice his tattoo-covered chest. 

“Oh let’s do it, Princess!" He encourages. "It’ll be thrilling! An adventure! Reckless! Something different!” 

Did he just call me Princess? No one has ever called me that and he has twice now. 

Colson takes my hand into both of his and I’m thrown off by the action.  “Be spontaneous with me,” he requests softly. 

Currently, I’m debating with myself. The youthful part of me is screaming ‘hell yes! Let’s do this!’ The businesswoman part of me is wiser than to take such a risk. I check over at the edge again. My willingness to do such a rebellious action is new to me. There’s no one here to see us. Paparazzi isn’t around to take pictures. Perhaps the cause of my newfound bravery is because of him. 

I take a deep breath and nod. “Okay, let’s do it.” 

As if he already knew I would eventually accept, his grin only grows. 

“Well then, I suggest you strip unless you prefer to sit around like a wet dog for the hour ride back.” He winks at me, biting his lower lip. 

In a normal case, I would be insulted by such a forward request but considering where we stand I find it humorous. After thoroughly checking the area for any cameras or strangers, I slip my dress over my head then kick off my wedges. An odd feeling stirs in my stomach and my heart is pounding. My comfort zone is shot to hell. 

Tossing my hair up in a ponytail, Colson scans my appearance. 

“Excuse me Mr. Baker, it’s not nice to stare,” I tease, yanking at my finished ponytail to tighten it. 

Unfazed, he snaps out of it and faces the shore. His hair wisps around in the breeze, falling over his face. The perfect strands are just as light as his eyes. His jawline could cut a diamond. His skin, as smooth as porcelain but covered in various tattoos. 

“Excuse me Miss Voss, it’s not nice to stare,” he repeats my words back to me. 

I snap out of my daze. “Wasn’t staring,” I argue, now turning towards the coast. 

“Nothing to be ashamed of, I know I'm hot.” His lips curve into a loose smirk. 

My time with him is often one big eye roll. I slowly approach the edge of the cliff, peering over. 

“Nervous?” He checks, looking down at the water for himself. 

“Nope." I lie. 

“Scared?” 

“No.” 

“Have you jumped from a cliff before?” 

I exhale deeply. “No.” 

He shifts his body to face me and I flicker my eyes to the side to meet his gaze. 

“And you’re not afraid?” He checks. 

“Not at all,” I admit without hesitation. 

He snickers, whether it be because he’s impressed or he doesn’t believe me. “How come?” 

I shrug, a brief hum for an answer escaping me. “The unknown doesn’t scare me, only challenges me… and I love a challenge,” I wink with a sly grin. 

His warm hand interlocks with mine and I nearly yank mine away yet because of the non-threatening look in his eyes, I stay. In fact, a part of me likes the feeling of his large hand in mine. It makes me feel safer than I have in quite some time. 

“On three” he exhales, staring off into the distance. 

I nod. 

“One," he counts. “Two...”

I exhale. I can't believe I'm doing this! 

"Three!" Colson shouts. 

I jump. Out of instinct, I squeeze Colson’s hand tighter. My voice travels in a scream as the two of us fall towards the crystal blue surface. He was right, this is such a rush! We torpedo into the water and the cold temperatures engulf me. Colson and I lose touch at some point then I kick to the surface. Wiping the excess water from my face, Colson pops up from under the water in front of me. Somehow even when wet and disheveled his hair still appears effortlessly pristine. 

“Wasn't that a rush!” His arm snakes around my waist. 

A part of me is begging for me to protest but I suppress that part of me. Instead, I rest my arms over his shoulders. He takes the opportunity to guide my legs around his waist. Shading my eyes from the sun with my hand I measure the height of where we jumped. 

Still struggling to catch my breath, I can’t help but smile widely. “It was a one-time opportunity!” 

“That’s up to you to decide!” he argues wittily. 

I lower my hand and his blue eyes see right through me. My eyes flicker down to his lips and impulsively, I slam my lips to his. I'm not sure what comes over me, but I needed to kiss him. Colson wastes no time, bringing a hand behind my head, deepening the kiss. We break apart only to catch our breath. 

“I believe you’ll prove to be a bad influence,” I say lightheartedly but between the lines with the utmost seriousness. 

“That depends on how you look at it,” he argues, his breathing inconstant.

Hungrily, he brings his lips back to mine and I melt into it. Colson is everything that’s bad for me. He’s an indulgence that’s disguising itself as a need. He’s toxic and I’m ignoring the warnings. The warmth of his palm radiates onto my face as he cups it. 

Against my lips, he grins. “You were spontaneous! Always be spontaneous!” His words, nearly sounding like a beg, settle in me. 

His crystal blues eyes stare into mine and I can’t help but be addicted. I'm falling for a fairytale.

________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:  @canyoubuymetoast​ @bri-3530 @asil1652 @andstilltryingtofindmyself @nadia2021 @olafsidehoe @mgkobsessed @fairywriting101 @ferrell-cat @naylanae-0308 @tonystarkswife10 @alexsa56 @brocksbabyyy @stormrider505 @magnificenthumancopangel @sarcasticfangirlus @lilramencup95beech @missyviolet123 @skeleton-gxrl @glitterybearllamaflap @margaritaville20 @amoresixx @thysagclub​ @hockeybabe87​

#mgk imagine #mgk smut #mgk fanfic #mgk aesthetic #mgk #mgk x y/n #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fanfic #fanfic #imagine

[everlarkficexchange]

Just Close Your Eyes, You'll Be Alright

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 154: Soulmate au where your soulmates injuries and scars show up on your body tinted in their favorite color. Katniss through the years as she discovers new marks, pondering what it could possibly be, finally figuring out that her soulmate is being hurt way too regularly and in very specific places. Do her parents figure out Peeta is being abused? How do they find and “rescue” him? Or does Peeta live his whole childhood being abused before turning 18? Does he runaway? How do he and Katniss find their way to one another? [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone / @peetamewllark]

Teen and up

AU- Modern setting (but like without cell phones). One Shot. 

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Language, child abuse and neglect, injuries, implied (non-descriptive) underage smut. Nobody dies! Unbetaed. 

-lyrics of Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift, Feat. The Civil Wars - Songs from District 12 and Beyond (2012)

Author’s note: Thank you to @lovely-tothe-bone for her inspiring prompt and to the organizers of EFE, for bringing the challenge back so faithfully, you ladies rock! 

KPKPKPKP

“Look at her!” Papa screeched at the policeman, lifting the back of my favorite pink polka dotted shirt. “You have to do something about this, Sheriff Cray!” Papa demanded, angrily.

  The man just watched, like he didn’t care. Then sat back down lazily, “There’s nothing much I can do, to be honest. Unless you can produce the child sporting the actual bruises, my hands are tied.” Said the policeman.

  I had no idea what the problem was, I felt fine, but ever since my 5th birthday, every time Mama helped me out of my day clothes for my bath, she wept and held me close to her chest, whispering “No child deserves to be treated so poorly,”

  Papa too always made a face and looked sad and angry when Mama showed him my back after my baths. 

  It was funny how bath time could easily be my favorite time of day, but it made the grown ups upset somehow. I just liked that mama would rub ointments on my back, bottom and thighs, carefully and without fuzzing about the time she was spending away from my baby sister, Primrose. Is not that I didn’t like Prim— I thought she was as lovely as a doll— I didn’t mind sharing mama’s snuggles with her either, but it was nice to just feel mama’s warm hands caressing me to sleep every now and then. 

  Either way, I wished someone would tell me what was so wrong with my behind that had the grown ups acting so weird. 

  They were starting to scare me, really.

  “There has to be something we can do! There are genetic tests to determine matchless people, couldn’t we use the same technology to find the markers matching my daughter’s counterpart to identify him?” 

  “Mr. Everdeen, I’m not a geneticist. I wouldn’t know about anything like it… and who’s to say we could use it to find your girl’s soulmate? Then we what? It’ll open an unknown Pandora’s box situation, people would start tracking soulmates illegally or something less than honorable. It’ll certainly set a precedent we cannot foresee the ramifications of!”

  “You’re telling me that there’s some kid out there, somewhere, getting beaten week in and week out, and you’ll do nothing about it?! You’ll allow the abuse to continue uninterrupted?” 

  The man nodded slowly, “You said it yourself, Mr. Everdeen. The kid’s ‘out there, somewhere’, we don’t even know if he’s local, or his age. In any case, I only have jurisdiction over District 12, and I can’t very well launch a country wide investigation on an alleged case of abuse, specially if  we have no victim,”

  “But my daughter’s soulmate is suffering! Who knows what permanent damage this poor child may have as an adult! It’s my daughter’s future we’re talking about!”

  “Most unfortunate, sir. I don’t wanna seem unsympathetic, Mr. Everdeen, but unless your little girl can figure out a way to communicate with her soulmate, find… an address— at the very least a name— there isn’t anything we can do to help.”

  Papa huffed, his nose flared, “Fine. Thank you for your consideration…Sheriff.” Papa put his big ol’ hand on my shoulder and guided me away, “Come on Katniss, it’s time to go home.”

  I looked up at Papa and reached for his hand. I smiled at him, “It’s okay, Papa. Mama says to give grumpy people time, and they may be nicer the next time we talk to them.”

  Papa smiled at me, but it didn’t crinkled the corner of his eyes, like real smiles did, “That’s nice sweetie… although, that usually only applies to people just waking up from naps, like you and me,”

  I giggled when he picked me up and tickled my tummy. 

  Papa kept talking to grown ups about my back, but nothing was ever done about it. 

  ———————-

I was 11 when our world pitched upside down. 

  Papa was one the foramen on shift at the town’s coal mine when the earth shifted and an entire tunnel collapsed. 

  Prim and I were in school when the sirens went off. There’s nothing worse than to hear the end of your world being advertised so loudly and without mercy. 

  I grabbed my sister’s hand and rushed to the mines; we found our mother there, clinging to the yellow tape cordoning off the site. 

  I should’ve known something wasn’t right when I was the one seeking Mama out, trying to comfort her, instead of the other way around. It was the first time the concept of a soulmate stopped being an abstract notion, and became a reality, because my mother stopped functioning altogether the moment she realized Papa had been hurt.

  I saw how much a soulmate could affect you. It wasn’t only the marks on the skin— those came without conscious pain— it was the fear of knowing that someone you loved was hurting, sometimes badly, and not being able to do anything about it. 

  Mama’s left leg started glowing pink from the shin down at first, and the color began to shift to a darker red the longer Papa laid underground. 

  Unbeknownst to us, my father had been pinned under fallen rock and dirt after pushing a man to safety, risking his own life. The sharp end of a pickax perforated Papa’s leg in the cave-in. The pickaxe worked as a plug, keeping him from bleeding out while he waited for the rescue crew to reach him. 

  Papa laid on the floor of the very last lift to surface with rescued miners. He was unconscious. Had suffered extensive blood loss. The lone medic in the rescue crew couldn’t fix him up right away, but Mama was a nurse, and like a switch flipping on, she ripped off the bottom of her skirt, and tied a tourniquet around my father’s thigh, saving his life at the cost of his limb. 

  My father lived, but his leg had to be amputated. 

  He couldn’t work in the mines anymore, and what little money we got as compensation from his injuries, were put into paying off the mortgage, because Papa decided that having a roof over his family’s heads was far more important than having a leg. 

  The rub was, a roof didn’t fill our stomachs or put a coat around Prim’s shivering shoulders. Mama put a hold on her nursing career, obsessing over Papa’s care, despite his protests. Someone had to pick up the pieces, and that someone turned to be me. 

  I started selling everything I could carry out of the house in my arms: tools, kitchen appliances, small furniture, etc. But we never had many possessions to begin with, so my wares ran out soon, and I turned to our closets for their meager treasures.

  I sold my parents best clothes, along with my sister’s winter boots that didn’t fit her anymore. I looked at my own shoes with longing, but put them into Primrose’s shoe rack, deciding I could manage with Mama’s boots, if I stuffed them with newspaper. Mama never left the house anyway. Neither did Papa for that matter, but he wasn’t dead, just convalescencing, so I left him a pair of footwear just in case, and sold his work boots and his Sunday loafers. 

  The day I was down to the last pair of clothing, we had been slurping on mint tea for the third day in a row from a few old leaves I found in the very back of the pantry. It was the last of our food, besides Papa’s bland diet, but I refused to let on on how precariously stocked we were, until absolutely necessary.

  But, nobody wanted the hand-me-down baby clothes I had for sale, nor the slightly beaten stroller I was pushing around with my ‘merchandise’. 

  Icy cold rain, soaked me to the bone. I was so tired and downtrodden, I ran to the first awning I found, unwilling to go back home to Prim’s sunken blue eyes and chapped lips, asking for something to eat, while my hands were empty. 

  I tripped and fell face first on the umbrella stroller, breaking it irreparably and soiling the few onesies I’d been trying to sell. 

  With my wares ruined, and winded by a sharp pain shooting through my elbow, I limped towards a scraggly apple tree a few feet away. I recognized the place as the alley behind the town’s bakery, just by the smell alone. 

  I cupped my elbow, wondering if I’d broken it or merely banged it up? That’s when I saw the dumpster. 

  Big ugly thing, dirty and smelly. I climbed a wooden crate to dig for anything edible inside, but before I could lift the lid, a screeching voice shouted at me.

  “Get out of there, Seam brat!” 

  I jumped off the crate, startled, and cowed behind the dumpster when I saw the baker’s grumpy wife sneering at me from the warmth of her kitchen’s back door. 

  A boy about my age— I recognized him as one of my classmates from school— peeked his towheaded face around the woman, and although they were a good five yards away, I could see his blue eyes widened as he took me in. The boy slipped back inside, as his mother spewed threats of calling the police on me and whatnot.

  I started debating whether I wanted to trace back and drag my broken stroller over; pretend I was merely trying to dump it in the garbage, while inspecting the trash for food… but the baker’s wife was nicknamed the Witch by all the neighborhood children for a reason. 

  Before my mind was made, a loud, metallic bang resonated into the street from inside the bakery. Yelling ensued, then the sound of a meaty hand against a small face. 

  A few seconds later, the witch was chasing the boy out the back door, “Toss it in the trash, you stupid creature! Nobody will pay money for burnt bread anyway!” 

  The boy scurried by with his head down. 

  My eyes stuck on the bread in his hands, was probably the reason I missed the shiner under his eye. He stopped right in front of the dumpster, but instead of throwing the ruined loaves in, he tossed them in my direction. 

  I didn’t wait around to ask if he meant for me to grab them. I just scooped them up and fled like a bat out of heck. 

  When I got home, Mama gasped in horror. She grabbed me by the shoulders and pressed me to her chest. “Oh no! It’s getting worse. They don’t even care to hide the bruises anymore!” 

  Mama lathered my face with all the medicinal herbs she had at hand, while apologizing profusely for abandoning me and Prim to our own devices. She vowed to find a job, and to take better care of us. 

  “No child should ever suffer like this!” I couldn’t tell if she meant Prim and I, or whoever my soulmate was.

  Mama interrogated me about my whereabouts and how I came upon the bread in my arms, but she seemed to rest easier after a while. 

  When I was finally able to look at my face in the mirror, I was horror struck by the deep orange bruise swelling under my eye. It took three days for the bruise to go away completely even with mama’s careful fingers.

  Coincidentally, the baker’s son didn’t show up to school for the next four days. By the time he did, I had lost any confidence in myself to go up to him and thank him for the bread that fed us for a few days; the loaves were perfect! Only the crust had been charred, but I had a hunch the boy knew that when he threw the bread to me; I was also convinced he burned the bread on purpose, I was just too chicken to ask him why? Which made it even harder to hold his gaze when we crossed each other in the school hallways. 

  All I knew was that because of the selfless actions of the boy in my year at school, my mother seemed to wake from her single minded obsession. The boy with the bread gave our family a sense of hope, despite the fact that it would take some time for Mama to find work and produce enough money for the family. Papa’s medical needs had to be met as well, and he was due a new leg. 

  While those thoughts churned in my head, my eyes focused on a bright yellow bloom across the school yard. The first dandelion of the season! I picked the cheerful blossom, and the idea on how to feed my family until Mama was back on her feet, came to me. 

  After school, I took Prim’s hand and a clean bucket in the other; together we scoured the yard and the woods nearby for all the dandelions we could fit in the bucket. That night, we gorged ourselves on dandelion salad, and the next day, I pulled from under my parent’s bed, the only thing of value we had left in the house, Papa’s hunting bow. 

  “Are you sure you can handle it, pumpkin?” My father asked, watching me carefully.

  “You taught me how to do it,” I said, trying to hide my nerves.

  “I taught you with a smaller bow,” he pointed out, “why don’t use yours?”

  I shouldered the heavy bow, and took a few loose arrows in my hand, “I sold it. These are all we have left now,”

  After a handful of days practicing, I actually shot  something worth eating. Seeing my mother’s blue eyes pop in surprise when I dropped the dead rabbit on the table, was priceless. 

  ——————-

  One early morning, right before summer break, I happened across another hunter… a trapper, to be precise. 

  A lanky, scowling boy, with three fat bunnies tied to his belt, and a fourth hanging in the air by a simple— yet elegant— wire snare. 

  I’d seen his traps before, his prey with their dead eyes and lolling tongues, just high enough off the ground to keep other animals from taking off with them. Papa told me that hunter etiquette was to be observed; if I happened across a trap that wasn’t mine, I was not to touch it, out of respect for my fellow hunters. That still didn’t discourage me from looking! After all, the snares looked like works of art, and I had no idea how to set any on my own.

  “Stealing is a punishable offense, you know,” Snapped the boy, and suddenly I realized just how tall he was. 

  From up close, I could see the beginning of some stubble under his chin. 

  “I wasn’t gonna take it…” I stepped away from the twitching bunny, with my hands raised in surrender. “Admiring your work, that’s all. By the way, I’m Katniss Everdeen, what’s your name?” I asked, trying to be friendly. 

  “Name’s Gale. Hawthorne. So… you know how to use the thing hanging from your back, Catnip, or is that just for show?” He practically bumped me onto my butt, stepping passed me while pulling a knife from his belt to cut his kill down. He turned to watch me, smirking. “That thing looks bigger than you, are you sure you can lift it up?”

  I scowled at him, wondering if he was expecting to see me squirm or something. I was smaller than the average 12 year old, but I was fast and scrappy. 

  “My name is KatNISS. I can shoot my own food thank you very much,” I held my bow aloft and moved so he could see my quiver full of arrows, “my weapons aren’t props or fakes,” I said, haughtily.

  “Yeah, well, it still looks bigger than you,”

  I rolled my eyes, fed up. Any other time I’d meekly shy away, and let him be; but I was feeling stubborn and confrontational, so I pulled my bow, nocked an arrow and let it fly, all in a fluid motion. 

  Gale gaped with a hint of fear in his gray eyes. 

  I felt smug and satisfied. 

  I wasn’t aiming at anything in particular, I just wanted the obnoxious boy to shut it, but by a stroke of luck my arrow pierced a falling leaf, and imbedded itself deep into the knot of a gnarly looking tree trunk. 

  “Wow! That was amazing, Catnip!” Gale said in awe. 

  “It’s Katniss… I’m okay, my father was better,” I said, puffing my chest a little, “I haven’t managed stealth yet, not like Papa before the accident, anyway. He doesn’t hunt anymore.”

  Gale frowned. “Was your dad in the cave-in?” He asked grimly.

  I nodded. 

  “So was mine. He almost didn’t make it.”

  “Same.”

  He just stood there, staring at the ground for a moment, then I tried to play cool, “Hey, I’d be willing to spare some shooting lessons, in exchange for some snaring techniques,” 

  Gale watched me, intently. He finally nodded and stuck his hand out for me to shake, “Deal!” 

  I smiled. Papa always said that good hunting partners were hard to find, and while I didn’t want a new hunting partner— I already had my father!— I could always exchange knowledge with a fellow hunter and improve my game. 

——————-

Papa was fitted with a basic prosthetic leg. He couldn’t run or swim with it, but having the ability to walk without crutches gave him a “new lease in life”, as he called it. 

  He found work doing odd jobs for Haymitch Abernathy, a hermit drunk, with more money than he knew what to do with, and no family to spend it on. The man needed someone to talk to every now and then, and seeing as he and my father were close in age, they developed a strange rapport between them. 

  Still, Papa wasn’t completely confident with his fake leg, no matter how many physical therapies he attended; he still walked with a pronounced limp. Yet, he always had a word of comfort for Mama. 

  My mother often blamed herself for Papa’s disability. 

  He’d tell her that she did the right thing, that it was thanks to her torniquete he was still alive, and she should never doubt her own healing skills. But every now and then, my mother would catch a glance of her permanently grey skinned leg, and silent tears would slide down her exhausted, pretty face.

  By then, I was old enough to know that the soft orange marks hidden under my clothes, meant a kid somewhere in Panem, probably my age, was getting beaten on a regular basis. It was sad to think about, but I’d grown so used to the marks, they felt like a distant happening without a meaningful connection to me. The bruises were there… just shy of a shirt sleeve, or around mid thigh, where they could be concealed by shorts; the way I saw them, they were like oversized freckles that came and went. A nuisance. That’s why watching my mother weep over her shadowy leg, was always unnerving and a little odd. 

  Was I supposed to despair the same way she did over my own soulmate marks? Was I broken or heartless if I didn’t feel as strongly? 

  Until I saw my mother’s grief over her soulmate’s leg, it didn’t register to me just how much the orange bruises were supposed to affect me. 

  I started to think if I wasn’t any better than the person dispensing the punches.

  One day, I was leaning on my parents bedroom door, watching Mama applying soothing oils to her gray leg with the utmost love and care.

  “Why do you rub so much medicine on your leg? It doesn’t seem to be bringing back your normal color,” I asked, staring where her fingers massaged into her flesh. 

  Mama stopped and called me over, to stand on her side of the bed. 

  “Papa is fast asleep, do you see?” She pointed out, kindly.

  I looked past her shoulder, where my father was sprawled on the mattress on his stomach, dead to the world. 

  I nodded.

  Mama smiled, “Do you remember all we’ve told you about soulmates? I’m sure they’ve taught you at school other stuff as well,” 

  Again, I nodded, just a little puzzled. “Soulmates have a very strong bond. They can’t feel when the other hurts, but they can see the marks, tinted in their favorite colors. That’s how we identify our soulmates, because we match and they can see themselves reflected back.” 

  “Exactly.” Said my mother, beaming. “Now, your papa and I are soulmates, and we love each other very much. When Papa’s leg was separated from his body, my body reflected that loss, despite still retaining my own leg. We match. The one thing most people don’t seem to realize, is that the connection goes both ways. I may not feel the physical pain Papa does, but I can still do things to my leg to help him feel better.

  “For example, when he feels phantom itches, I scratch and his itching sensation goes away. When he can’t fall asleep because he’s uncomfortable without his leg, I massage lavender oil on mine, until he relaxes and goes to sleep. Everything I do to heal my body, and take care of it, helps my soulmate feel better.”

  “Is that why you put lotions on my marks? To help my soulmate feel better?” 

  Mama’s lips thinned out; she didn’t like talking about the orange marks on my body. 

  “Katniss,” she said very seriously, “I tend to your bruises because I love you. I worry about your soulmate, because I love you. I try to keep you as healthy and happy as possible, because that will help your soulmate heal faster… because I love you. I can cure your soulmate’s body through yours, but I cannot protect his heart, mind, or feelings. Right now, you both are too young to feel the pull of your bond, but one day, when your bodies have matured, you’ll have this… yearning, to find one another, and then, I just hope, whoever your soulmate is, knows we tried to help.”

  I cocked my head, “Should I be sad every time new marks show up?”

  Mama inhaled a deep breath, “We should feel sad every time a child is mistreated, darling, no matter how we’re related,”

  From that day on, I paid close attention to every child in my class for bruises matching mine. I also kept pomades and tinctures in my school bag, in case I ever saw another kid getting hurt. I wouldn’t say I started to develop deeper feelings for my soulmate after that, but I did feel deeper empathy for my classmates… I just couldn’t stomach big injuries, gore or vomit, but smaller cuts and bruises… those I could manage. 

————————

“Silver Anderson figured out her cousin was dating her soulmate!” A girl in my year was telling a cluster of other 15 year-old girls in the locker room. “Do you remember how Silver has been wearing a turtleneck for the last two days with this darned awful heat?”

  The other girls hummed their yeses. 

  “Well, is because Silver’s soulmate had a hickey on the throat, given by Silver’s cousin, who was his girlfriend or whatever. But apparently the cousin went over to visit Silver with her boyfriend, and one look at the guy’s neck, and Silver recognized the mark!” 

  There were gasps all around. 

  It wasn’t rare to hear of soulmates having relationships with other people before finding each other, but it was almost unheard of a relative dating somebody’s soulmate so close.

  I finished tying up my shoelaces, and started rebranding my hair, making a mental note to double shampoo, to get all the sweat out.

  “What an idiot! Who gets hickeys from their ‘whiles’?” Snorted somebody. 

  I wasn’t much for gossip, but even I had to agree. 

  ‘Whiles’, weren’t permanent romantic interests, they were just to pass the time while waiting to find your soulmate. ‘Whiles’ were people to satisfy ones curiosity about dating and that kind of stuff, with no strings attached or substance; ‘whiles’ had a bad connotation associated with. 

  “Oh, the boy had never gotten one mark in his body that wasn’t his, so, he assumed he didn’t have a soulmate, and the cousin has already been confirmed to be a matchless.”

  A big “Oh!” Swept the room. 

  Matchless were born without a soulmate, which meant they could choose to be with whoever they wanted as long as they were matchless as well, or with nobody at all. 

  Sometimes I envied their freedom to choose, but other times I felt a sense of safety, knowing there was a person somewhere in the world meant just for me and me to them. 

  Soulmates were genetically evolved to complement one another, but some just wanted to experiment before settling down. Lately, though, matchless births were growing in number, and that upset people for whatever reason, as if the freedom of choice was scary or a curse, then again matchless were usually whiles and those were looked down on. 

  “That’s awful!” Said a girl.

  “I knew Silver’s near freakish obsession with keeping her skin pristine and hidden would bring her issues finding her soulmate someday,” Declared another.

  “I don’t think she wanted to find him,” whispered someone else.

  “Oh well, they did find each other! You can’t hide from your destiny. That’s just silly!”

  “Either way, I feel bad for the cousin, because apparently she and Silver’s soulmate were talking about marriage, since they thought they were both matchless.” Informed the first one. 

  I lost interest in the conversation when it turned speculative, and stood up to shove my P.E. uniform into my locker. 

  Someone suddenly called, “Everdeen, how about those orange blooms on your arms?” 

  My eyes widened, and immediately, I dropped my arms, pulling my sleeves as far down as they would go to cover my soulmate’s private marks.

  “Oh… um… yeah. My mother thinks my soulmate might be an athlete,” I stuttered; Mama had only said such a thing in passing once, when a couple bruises appeared that didn’t match the usual ones. “Also, he seems to work with his hands. Lots of nicks and scrapes.” I wiggled my fingers in front of me. That much was true, my soulmate probably wore those marks freely.

  “Oooh!” A girl, Delly Cartwright, reached to take a closer look. “Could be a carpenter. Or a locksmith? Maybe a farmer!”

  “It could be the blacksmith’s son! Doesn’t Silver have an unmarried brother?” Asked another girl.

  “Yeah… a kid like 10! Ugh, Everdeen, I really hope he’s not your soulmate… can you imagine being so much older than your soulmate?!” Interjected the same girl that spotted my bruises. 

  I scowled. Age was a stupid thing to complain about. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to have an age gap between soulmates… my father was six years older than my mother, and Mrs. Sae from the Soup Corner at the market, was a handful of years older than her soulmate. 

  Still…

  “No. My soulmate is most likely my age. I’ve gotten his marks my whole life,” I shrugged, absently rubbing my arm, where the brand new bruise appeared that morning. 

  “Oh… at least that’s something. Knowing that your soulmate isn’t so much younger than you, and that he might at least have an apprenticeship somewhere,”

  “Right,” I said, turning away, wondering if it was awful of me to wish for a boy who never got marks on his body, like Silver’s pristine skin? At least that would mean my soulmate was safe and treated fairly. 

———————-

Papa and I shared many qualities. I inherited his coloring: olive skin, gray eyes, dark, straight hair, our penchant for singing mountain ballads, and the same quickening of the blood when we got a kill during hunting. Prim favored our mother more closely, with their fair skin, blonde wavy licks and blue eyes, they also were more skilled as healers and more soft-hearted towards animals. 

  The day Prim brought home a half dead cat, riddled with fleas and missing an ear to be patched up and adopted into our family, my first instinct was to drown the orange pelt and be done with it, but Prim got upset and worked up, and I just couldn’t stomach her cries over what I considered to be the world’s ugliest cat… his face was flat, like it’d been smashed against a wall…

  It took a long time to calm my sister down, and Papa made me pinky promise that I wouldn’t kill the fur sack and pretend it ran away, which I only did reluctantly, because I loved my sister and didn’t want her to be crossed with me. 

  Papa asked me to walk with him into the woods, afterwards, which I did readily. 

  Before he lost his leg, we used to go hunting all the time; everything I knew about hunting and foraging, I learned from him. But after losing his leg, we’ve only gone to the woods to hike and get him used to his prosthesis in the uneven terrain. 

  It was good exercise for him. The fresh air seemed to lift his spirits too. 

  We didn’t hunt together anymore. Papa’s tread wasn’t feather-like the way it used to be, prey scattered away before we even saw it.  

  It was alright. We enjoyed being out there together, and he still had lots to teach me about edible plants. Sometimes he’d find one of his old spiles, and then it would hit me: all his knowledge would’ve been lost if he’d died in that cave-in. I would’ve never known where to look for those spiles; I wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to harvest sap and turn it into syrup. 

  Sometimes, I had to sit down and catch my breath when those thoughts knocked the wind out of me. 

  I was having one such moment, when out of the blue, my father spoke in a low, calmed tone. 

  “There’s a new chief of police,” he said while sitting on a log, next to me. 

  “I heard.” I wasn’t trying to be snippy with him, but every time a new chief or sheriff was appointed to our district, Papa wanted to run back into the precinct, and demand they look for my soulmate. 

  Appealing to the police never led anywhere. It didn’t matter if they had new staff, they always gave us the same spiel: can’t investigate an abuse case without a victim. They couldn’t go looking for a person without a name or an address. 

  After a while, one just started feeling like it was an impossible task, to help one child feel safe. 

  Papa sighed. “We could try ourselves. I’ve been saving some money, and we could—“

  “What? We could what?” I snapped. “We could go door to door visiting every little town in Panem until we find the bruised up mutt matching me?” I was at the verge of tears. 

  Mama said that once my body was matured enough, I’d start feeling the pull. Well, I kinda felt it, calling desperately. It started around my 14th birthday, when I started having a regular cycle, and puberty was at its summit. 

  First, I was curious about my other half and began cataloguing all the soulmate marks I could see easily. Suddenly I had whole maps of my hands and arms, and legs. Mama suggested I keep track of my hidden marks too, just in case. The curiosity persisted and evolved into an incessant wondering: where was he? How was he getting along? How could I help him protect himself? 

  “Haymitch may have a way, sweetheart. He knows people, and he likes you… he says you’ve got spunk,” Papa smirked.

  I’d met Haymitch Abernathy countless times. He was rude and sarcastic. I usually responded to him in kind, earning myself a host of reprimands from my parents— although Papa still couldn’t hide his pride, despite trying his hardest. 

  “What would he know about soulmates anyway?” I muttered.

  Papa shook his head, standing up, “Haymitch lost his girl, mother and brother all at once during a special outing. There was a car crash. Haymitch was badly hurt, but survived. His family didn’t. His soulmate was 16, so was him. The government paid him excessively for damages and the loss of his soulmate, because it was proved the city had skimped on roadside safety that caused the accident. But money didn’t fill the void of losing his loved ones. Haymitch never recovered. 

  “He told me once that losing a soulmate is akin to drowning. Except you’re still breathing without filling your lungs with oxygen…” Papa picked up the bucket we brought to collect sap, and smiled sadly at me. “Katniss, I may be exaggerating by hounding the police about your soulmate, but sometimes I worry that if we don’t find that kid soon, you could very well share Haymitch’s fate. Believe me when I say that I’d do anything in this world, to keep that from happening to you.” 

  I turned 16 that spring.

  I started carrying a small mirror on me, to try and look over my shoulders into places I couldn’t reach, obsessing over every little mark that sprouted anew on my back. 

  I wasn’t sure if the all consuming watching, and the doubts that kept me up at night, not knowing what was being done to my soulmate, wondering if he’d survive another day, was the pull Mama talked about, or simply terror at becoming the next Haymitch Abernathy. Either way, I became more vigilant for injured teens around me, but a sinking feeling in my gut started nagging at me, that my soulmate was an expert at hiding in plain sight by now… how would I ever find him if he was as adept at camouflaging as I suspected?

—————————

“This spot is perfectly in the middle of the turkeys’ path.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest to glare at Gale, “You just spilled a bunch of blood there. No critter is gonna come this way anymore with that stink.”

  “Turkeys aren’t that smart, Catnip,” Gale looked up from his belt after securing his new catch— his pants were covered in gore from where the rabbit nearly cut its own foot off trying to fight the snare’s grip. “I’m more than confident that if we set traps here, we’ll catch at least a fat Tom…more if we set up a system wide enough,”

  After a somewhat rocky start, Gale and I learned to respect each other’s skills, even joining forces for certain seasons, like deer and turkey hunting. We also fished together on occasion. It was safe to say we had a friendship after three… almost four years of partnership in the woods. At 18 Gale was less obnoxious, but still a stubborn ass. 

  “And I’m telling you, the path is tainted now. We need to put feed on the other side of the bushes, to keep them in the area.”

  “That’ll take weeks!” 

  “Then you shouldn’t have let that bunny bleed to death in here!” 

  “Listen here, Catnip—” whatever he was about to say, died in his throat.

  “What?!” I demanded, angrily, when he just stared at me horror struck.

  “Your nose!” He roared. “Your eyes!” He tumbled forward, and squished my cheeks in his one, long-fingered hand. “There’s more coming!”

  I yanked myself away from him. “Cut it out!”

  “I think your soulmate is getting the shit beaten out of!”

  I grunted and brought my fingers to my face, as if I could feel the changes. 

  Gale had seen some of my bruises, enough to be sure I had a soulmate, but not enough to realize my soulmate was being abused.

  I rubbed under my nose, and the tip of my index came back bloody. 

  I gasped. That had never happened before. 

  “How bad is it?” I asked Gale, frantically. 

  “Um… orange keeps popping up all over your face. There’s some running up your arm right now.” He sounded careful, but frightened. “It’s like… burn marks,”

  I looked down, where indeed, long, fat tongues of intense orange glowed up my left arm. I’ve seen glowing marks before, but always in the tip of my fingers or the sides of my hands, I never connected the glowing with fire— burn marks— but it made sense. I guess my soulmate must handle fire regularly. 

  “What’s happening?” I pulled my little mirror from my pocket, to see my face, and nearly sobbed at the sight.

  One eye was completely covered in orange. Burn marks ran all the way from my elbow up to my cheek, and part of my forehead. My nose had a tiny, bloody smear, and my lip had streaks of orange here and there. 

  Whatever happened, was bad.

  “Fuck… Do you know where he is, by any chance?” Gale winced. 

  “No… but I’m about to find out!” I looked around for a place to sit, then pulled my small knife out of my boot. 

  Once seated, I examined my forearms. The flaming marks started at the elbow on my left arm, and went up on that side, my right arm was free of injury, except for my palms. Both were glowing orange, but not too bad. 

  “Okay… here goes nothing!” I gritted through my teeth, placing the tip of my knife to my arm, I traced the word, “WHERE?” crudely, and just deep enough to break the skin.

  Gale made a face, but crouched closed by, staring intently. “Do you think it’ll work?” He asked dubiously. “He might be unconscious for all we know,” 

  “We’ll see.”

  The minutes rolled by and no answer came. I was starting to panic; all I could think about was would that be the day I became the next Haymitch Abernathy? At least he got to meet his soulmate and have a relationship with her before she died; I had no idea who mine was. Was it worse that way, knowing them and then losing them, or was it worst to never meet them at all? Would I become soulless? Would my entire body turn gray? Would I ever find another soulmate? Haymitch never said if he ever looked for another, but I knew it was possible to get a secondary soulmate if enough time went by. 

  “Look!” Gale shouted. 

  A shaky “D12” appeared under my message. 

  A relieved gasp left my mouth. 

  “District 12! That’s good! He could’ve been all the way in District 4, and then what were you gonna do? Call the authorities there?” Gale muttered, clearly invested in what was happening to me.

  Tears stung my eyes. I wrote: “ME 2” 

  We’ve been in the same district the whole time, and I still had no idea where to find him! 

  I turned the knife back to the first word, and traced a line under it “WHERE?”

  The answer came back faster. “S H”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I moaned,  “What kind of abbreviation is that? Ugh! I’m trying to help you!” I screamed at my arm as if my soulmate could hear it.

  “Seam House?” Gale mused… “No, there are hundreds, if not thousands of houses in the Seam,” he said.

  The Seam was the poorer part of the district, where people like us lived: low income families, miners, laborers and the such. 

  “Ah! Ask if he means Slag Heap? If I was trying to pick a fight with someone, that’s where I’d go.”

  “He didn’t pick a fight!” I snapped, defensive and angry. “He’s been beaten every other day, since I can remember. My parents used to go to the police station every year to see if they could do something about it. Nobody ever did! They always said we needed to figure out a way to communicate with him… well, I’m doing it now!”

  Gale frowned, “That’s shitty. I’m sorry to hear that. The Slag Heap could still be it, though. Many people go there to be alone… if they’re running from someone, there’s plenty hiding spots,”

  That sounded logical, “Okay… but the slag heap isn’t exactly small, and there’s some woodsy area to consider too,”

  “Mmm… asking has been working so far,” 

  “Yeah, but the whole mutilation part is getting to me…” I glared, he wasn’t the one cutting his arm, “I’m starting to get woozy,” 

  “You’re a hunter, Catnip! Blood is nothing,”

  “Animals, Gale! Not my own blood,”

  “There’s no difference,” Gale cupped my face in his hands, to keep my eyes on his gray, steely ones. “we’re all animals. We all bleed the same. Your soulmate needs your help, if I knew who mine was, and I knew she was in trouble, I’d be rushing to them… you can do this, Catnip,”

  I took a deep, cleansing breath, and nodded. “I’ll ask him. As soon as we know where to go… could you please fetch my father? He’ll know what to do,” 

  “You got it, Catnip!” He let go of me, and I felt renewed courage after his weird pep talk.

  Once again, I trace the tip of my knife on my skin, “SLAG H? WHERE?”

  “YES    NE”

  “North East! I told you it’ll work!” 

  “Yeah,” I grumbled, spelling making one last message: “W8 4 ME”

  “K”

  With half a plan in motion, Gale rushed to find my father, and I made a mad dash to the slag heap, where years and years of dumping dirt and rocks removed from the mines had formed small hills and mounds at the edge of the district. 

  “Hello!” I called out loudly. “Can anybody hear me?!” 

  There wasn’t a whole lot of vegetation in the slag heap, only hundreds of disturbed soil pits and little mountains… some were tall and wide enough they’ll easily conceal a person or two looking for privacy. 

  “Anybody here?” I called again.

  A weak cough answered in the distance. 

  I rushed in it’s direction, hoping it was my soulmate, and not a couple trying to steal away a few minutes alone. 

  “Please, tell me where you are!” I called before another round of coughing reached me. 

  “Here to finish me off, sweetheart?” Came a weak, raspy voice from behind me.

  I turned around but saw nothing besides dirt, and sticks, and moss on rocks. 

  I swallowed, “Where are you?” I stepped closer to the heap in front of me, and then…

  “Well, don’t step on me!” 

  I jumped back and looked downwards, and finally saw dirty pieces of flannel and denim, incongruous with the area, and under all the debris, I realized a person had dug a little wedge at the foot of the hill, and thrown the stuff he’d dug out back on top of himself. The disguise was clever, camouflaging himself into the terrain. 

  I gasped and dropped to the ground, pulling handfuls of earth out of the way. A jolt of recognition hit me when a pair of bright blue eyes blinked open and shut, slowly, as if fighting off fatigue. 

  “Don’t go to sleep!” I warned.

  “I’m sorry, but it might be too late for that already. There’s an angel hovering above me, and I’m not sure I’m not dreaming it,” a row of white teeth appeared from the soil.

  My knee-jerk reaction was to chuff and roll my eyes, but if he was throwing me those cheesy lines, it meant he was somewhat lucid, and it was imperative to keep him that way. 

  “How do you know is not a nightmare?” I countered.

  “Because Katniss Everdeen coming to my rescue, and being my soulmate could never be a bad dream. On the contrary It’s only my deepest, most desperate hope, really…” he trailed off, and closed his eyes again. 

  I was momentarily frightened.

  “Keep talking,” I ordered, brushing dirt off his head. Some of it mixed in with his blood and sweat, turning into a thick mud. I could see more of his battered face; my heart beat erratically against my rib cage, there were so many bruises. “Peeta, keep talking,” 

  His untouched eye opened slowly, a lazy, sideways smile greeted me, warming me up. “You know my name?” 

  I chuckled, startled, “You know mine,”

  “Everyone knows you, Katniss ‘the huntress’ Everdeen!” He reached up, tentatively, and touched the tip of my braid, whispering under his breath, something that sounded like: unreal.

  Just saying his name felt otherworldly; like breathing for the first time. I’ve never uttered it before, for fear of bringing forward memories of that awful day in the rain, by the bakery’s scraggly apple tree. 

  “And you’re Peeta Mellark, the boy with the bread. I’ve known your name for a long time, baker’s youngest son, whose kindness saved my entire family from starvation,” I cupped his injured face in my hands, and I couldn’t help the slight tremble in my voice. 

  He seemed to melt at the sound of my voice; then his hands came to touch my face. “I can’t believe it’s you. I can’t believe you found me!” He said, an edge of incredulity and awe colored his tone, but then his face fell, “But, your sweet, beautiful face… it’s all…” a fat tear rolled down his muddy cheek, while his thumb gently caressed my temple and the side of my face. “I’m so sorry, Katniss… I never wanted you to look like this! I always tried to shift positions, so you’d never had to see how bad it got. I’m so sorry,” he was crying so hard, he started to shake and cough.

  It took inhuman strength not to cry myself; I knew he needed me to protect him, and there would be time later to fall apart and feel emotional. 

  “Shush, I’m here now.” I knelt next to him and locked my arms around his head, pulling him against my chest, so he could hear my heart beating only for him. “I’m going to take care of you.”

  “I really hoped it was you. I really did…” he heaved into my neck, his arms wrapping gingerly around my waist, “thank you for finding me,”

  “Of course I found you… I’ve been looking for you for ages,” I whispered, finally giving in, shedding some tears, relieved that the tension, fear, uncertainty, and frustration were finally gone. My soulmate was in my arms, where he belonged! “My parents started looking for you when we were little. But we’re together now,”

  Peeta calmed down some, but he was still breathing too fast, “Now that you have me… what are you gonna do with me?” He asked meekly. 

  I smiled down at him, “I’ll put you somewhere safe, where you can never get hurt again,” 

  He closed his eyes. “I’d like that…” 

  “Peeta, you can’t go to sleep just yet, okay?”

  “I’m so tired, Katniss,”

  “I know,” I cooed. I had no idea I was capable of speaking with such softness. “My father will get here soon, and then we’ll patch you up real well.”

  “I can’t go back to my house though—“

  “You ain’t going there, kid!” Papa said from a few feet away. Gale and two police officers followed closely. 

  I must’ve been completely enthralled with my soulmate, because I never heard them coming, 

  “Even if it’s the last thing I do, I won’t let you go back to that place!” My father stated. 

  And that was that!

  ——————————-

“Tell me what happened,” Officer Darius asked in a soft tone, trying to be encouraging.

  My soulmate inhaled; one eye was so swollen it was completely shut, his other one roved around the room nervously. Peeta locked his gaze with mine, beseeching, and I offered my hand in support. He clung to it like a lifeline. 

  “My mother asked me to burn a pile of leaves and branches in the backyard that had been there since fall, but the branches were damp and it was taking me a while to fire it up. Since it’s the last week to burn stuff, my mom got impatient. She screamed at me, called me incompetent and useless… the usual stuff—“

  “Does your mother call you names regularly?” Asked the officer. 

  “My mom calls everybody names. I guess that’s how she was raised. Her mom used to call her names too…” Peeta shrugged.

  “That’s no reason to keep the cycle going,” my mama grumbled quietly, so only I could hear her.”

  “After insulting you, what else happened?” Prompted the police woman, Officer Purnia.

  Peeta scowled. “I told her I’d pour some lighter fluid on the pile and let it soak for a few minutes, but she wouldn’t hear it. Said I was doing it wrong, I was too stupid, I would never accomplish shit if I couldn’t even light up some dead branches… and, well. I got fed up. I told her she could start the fire herself if I was doing such a lousy job… my mom… she—She doesn’t like to be talked back…” He sagged on his hospital bed, and turned his face away. 

  “What do you mean?” Asked officer Purnia, taking notes, trying to keep an impassive mask on.

  “The first slap landed across my ear because I dared to move away from her flying hand,” Peeta said tersely, “She didn’t like that either, so she took aim again, but with the bottle of lighter fluid on her palm. She practically smashed it against my face.” He stopped to gasp for air, while his good eye filled with tears. “I think fluid squirted everywhere, I smelled like my hair and clothes had been doused in the stuff,” he raked a shaking hand over the singed hair at his temple. 

  I caressed his arm to sooth him. 

  He smiled gratefully at me, and faced the officers to continue. “I’d just put a piece of burning cardboard into the pile. I guess the leaves caught fire during the squabble with mom, and I must’ve lost my balance after taking a plastic bottle full of liquid to the face, because next thing I know, I’m bracing my hands on the ground, on burning sticks, and then I’m on fire myself.”

  Peeta sustained first degree burns on the different spots from his left forearm, up. Luckily, his wounds were managed as soon as we got to the emergency room, and his treating doctor said he would recover, with minimal scarring.

  “How did you end up at the Slag Heap?” Asked Officer Darius. 

  Peeta sighed, “My mom kind of freaked out when she realized I was on fire. She picked up a rag from somewhere and started hitting me with it…” he paused, “in retrospect, I think she may have actually been trying to help me, but… I just saw it like she was still trying to beat me, so I ran off. I tripped, fell, then rolled on the ground, she started calling my name, coming closer to me. I was scared. I took off again and didn’t stop until I fell at the foot of that mound of dirt in the slag heap. That’s when I noticed my soulmate’s note.”

  Officer Darius quirked up a reddish eyebrow, “Your soulmate’s note?” 

  “Yeah… these,” Peeta tried to peel back the bandage over his arm, but my mother put her hand over it, and shook her head. 

  “Here!” I said, immediately shoving my own arm in front of the officers. 

  Both examined my arm. “How did you think of doing that, Miss Everdeen?” 

  “I was inspired by your bosses actually,” I snarled.

  “Katniss!” Mama chided, and then politely addressed the officers. “You see, my husband and I have come to the authorities for many years, urging them to find a way to locate our daughter’s soulmate. You see, she’d started exhibiting her soulmate’s bruises from a very young age, which in my professional experience, were inconsistent with normal toddler scrapes and bumps—“

  “The chief of police always said to find a way to communicate with him, ask where he was… so I did,” I interrupted, haughtily. “I got you a real life victim to investigate. You’re welcome.”

  The officers stared at me, flabbergasted. 

  Mama made a dismaying noise in the back of her throat, but Peeta’s face— burnt, bruised and swollen— lighted up, with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen a person direct at me. 

  Mama interjected, conciliatory, “My husband and I believe, your department should have enough evidence to investigate Peeta’s case, now?” My mother’s searching blue eyes seemed to x-ray the officers. 

  “Well, Miss and Mrs. Everdeen, Mister Mellark, I think we have everything we need for now. Thank you for your cooperation. We’ll be in touch.” Said Officer Purnia snapping shut her notebook. 

  “Mr. Mellark, your case worker, Miss Trinket, will be in as soon as the matter of your emergency custody is settled.” Informed Officer Darius, right before wishing us a good evening.

  Peeta frowned, “Are they sending me to like a home or something? What about my brothers? They can’t stay home with my mom… she’ll go nuts on them!” 

  “No, no, Peeta,” Mama spoke softly, “Miss Trinket is already on it. Haymitch Abernathy has offered his house for your brothers to stay at for a few days while things get sorted out. You’re welcome to join them, of course, but your injuries need supervision and several cleanings daily, so Mr. Everdeen and I feel it is in everyone’s best interest if you stay with us, at least until you’ve healed enough.” Mama hesitated, and then patted my soulmate’s hand, “I hope that’s okay with you, but if it isn’t—“

  “It’s absolutely great, ma’am! Yes, I—thank you,” 

  Mama nodded, “Well, I’m gonna go get some stuff taken care of, and check on that case worker. Then they’ll hopefully let us go home… Katniss, I’ll need your help with something before we leave, alright?”

  “‘kay.” 

  “Mrs. Everdeen…thank you,” Peeta said meekly. 

  Mama just stood stoically by the door, “You’re family, Peeta, it’s the least we could do for you.” The door clicked shut leaving me alone with my soulmate.

  We were both silent for a minute. Then Peeta said half amused, half shyly, “I think the guy cop liked you. I caught him smirking a couple of times after your ruthless answers.” His smile was crooked. Boyish. I almost swooned. 

  I shrugged. “I don’t think he cared that much,”

  “Are you serious?” Peeta laughed, “Katniss, you have no idea the effect you can have,”

  I scowled at him, and he just shook his head. I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me or complimenting me. He changed the topic before I could decide which. 

  “So, you’ve been looking for me then?” He sounded nervous, and a little uncertain, “isn’t it weird…we are soulmates, but the only thing I know for sure about you, is that your favorite color is green?” He rubbed his fingers together, then showed me the tips, where he had dark green spots, exactly on the same place I had permanent calluses from pulling on my bow string. 

  I bit my lower lip, studying the thin spidering of green nicks and scratches, were I surmised my own marks have appeared after my daily trips into the woods. 

  “Your favorite color is orange. Not bright, but muted…”

  “Like the sunset,” he finished for me. 

  Mind bonding wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities between soulmates, but my understanding on the matter was, that the bond had to be physically sealed before a pair could develop those empathic connections, where soulmates shared perfectly synchronized thoughts, as if they had one mind. Peeta and I weren’t there just yet, but it felt like we understood each other pretty well already. 

  He just stared at me in fascination, before his face fell, “I hope you don’t get permanently disfigured, if my burn scars don’t go away completely… you are so pretty.”

  I rolled my eyes, pleased that he thought I was pretty, but not really knowing how to respond graciously. I’d never been called pretty by a boy before, not that it’d have the same effect as when Peeta said it… “You’re just saying that I’m pretty because I’m your soulmate,” 

  He smiled sadly, “No… I really mean it. I’ve had a crush on you since I can remember. I just new I belonged to someone since I was like 4, when I saw my first soulmate scratch on my knees. Your favorite colors back then were teal and pink. Your marks were always swirls of the two colors. I liked them. I liked that I belonged to someone who enjoyed colors, like myself… I wondered what your marks looked like, but then, I hoped you never had to see my marks. I was ashamed of them.”  

  My chest tightened, I climbed onto his bed, and pressed my side right against his, “Hey… I’ve like your marks.” I stuttered, “my parents never let me see the ones on my back until I was older, but I liked the ones you got in normal places. Yours appeared as rainbows where we were little.” I held his hand in mine. “I don’t care if we stay fire mutts forever, Peeta, the important thing is that we are together now,” 

  “Thank you for finding me,”

  “Thank you for leading me to you,”

  We leaned our heads together, and fell into an easy silence.

  “Katniss…”

  “Mmm,”

  “We are soulmates.” 

  I tilted my head away, to look at him, “Yeah. We already established that,” I said suspiciously.

  Peeta smirked, “You know, we’re supposed to be madly in love…so, it’s okay to kiss me whenever you want to,” 

  I snorted and rolled my eyes, but he was right. In any other circumstance, I’m sure we would’ve already progressed into couple-y, lovey-dovey stuff. 

  “If you’re already fishing for kisses, that means you’re healthy then!” I kissed his forehead. “But let me tell you right now, cheek and sass won’t take too far, sir,”

  “It won’t?” he pouted, “then I’ll just have to swoop in when I see an opening,” he leaned into me, and I let him plant a peck, full on my lips. 

  My first kiss ever, and all I could register was how chapped his lips were… besides the small fluttering of butterfly wings in the pit of my stomach, of course. 

  “Well, time for a sip of water, and you should rest some too.” I said feeding him the straw in the Styrofoam cup full of icy water by his bed. 

  After he drank, we gravitated towards each other, meeting in the middle. Our second kiss was short, sweet, and full of relief. 

  I liked it. In fact, I wanted another, but Peeta was drowsy after the day we’ve had. 

  “I remember you used to sing, so beautifully, even the birds would stop to listen,” Peeta said, shyly… “would you… mind singing for me?”

  “I don’t sing all that much nowadays, but if that’s what you want…”

  He stared at me expectantly, so I had no other choice. I combed back his freshly washed hair, and started.

  “Just close your eyes;

The sun is going down.

You’ll be alright;

No one can hurt you now.

Come morning light,

You and I’ll be safe and sound...”

  When Mama came back, Peeta was asleep, and so she took me outside while my father sat in the room with the case worker, signing in my soulmate’s release papers, waiting for him to wake up. 

  “I want you to take these,” Mama produced a packet of medicine from a white, pharmaceutical baggie. 

  “Birth control?!” I groaned, embarrassed. 

  “Don’t look so scandalized, Katniss,” Mama rolled her eyes, “You and Peeta are healthy, newly acquainted teenaged soulmates, who will suddenly coexist together in close quarters. Papa and I agreed that starting you on contraceptives is the right thing to do,” she fixed me with a stare that broker no protests, “That said, we are not giving you carte blanche to act on pure hormonal instincts, Katniss. While we aren’t so naive to believe you won’t explore intimacy with your soulmate, we fully expect you to use caution, and make responsible decisions. Is that clear?” 

  I nodded, and snatched the pills from Mama’s outstretched hand. My face was burning with mortification, but I was grateful for my parents’ wherewithal and openness. 

  The next few days proved harsh and blissful at the same time. After 11 years pestering the authorities, Papa finally got the law to prosecute my soulmate’s parents for abuse and neglect. To call it a victory, was understatement. 

  Peeta’s father was declared another victim of the Witch’s abuse, but court ordered him to see a therapist and get evaluated by a professional, before he could come back home to his sons. 

  Mrs. Mellark was charged with endangering a child, battery, abuse and arson. She was court ordered to seek anger management and psychological counseling. She had been abused as a child too, and after watching her son in fire, it finally clicked in her head, that she needed to put a stop to the cycle… late as it may be. She went willingly when the police served her arrest warrants. 

  Since Peeta and his middle brother were still minors, they were temporarily placed under their eldest brother’s care; but the eldest brother was only 19 and had no idea how to be a father figure, so strange as it was, my parents insisted on having them all bunk in our tiny house, which was comically insufficient. Thank heavens Haymitch Abernathy was still willing to help. 

  The grumpy old drunk invited the lot of us to stay at his place for as long as we needed, and after cleaning up all the empty bottles and general messes around his huge house, we could enjoy the place at our leisure. 

  The boys kept working at the bakery, since they needed a source of income, and something to keep themselves occupied. Mama said they needed the normalcy of their business to cope. 

  It was a good thing Haymitch’s house was so big, since Peeta started having horrible nightmares after his mother was released from holding, after making bail; her trial was still pending, but my poor soulmate suffered severe PTSD from the events that brought us together. Neither of his brothers wanted to share a room with him at night…which allowed me to slip in when I heard him crying out desperately and fearfully.

  Peeta would only go back to sleep after I laid beside him and sang, while carding my fingers through his sweat-damped, ashy blond waves. 

  “I’m not okay until I can see you’re safe,” he told me once. 

  After the third night in a row of this happening, I just stayed with him in his bed. My parents didn’t exactly approve— we were still 16— but there wasn’t much they could say to stop us. After all, our soulmate bond trumped any other familial bond; we just couldn’t legally get married and apply for housing until we were both 18. 

  Peeta still woke up in cold sweats at night, but my arms were there to fend off the terrors, and so were my lips. 

  On the night I felt a hunger so consuming and devastating, gnawing at me from my core, radiating to the tips of my being, I was glad my mother put me on birth control. 

  My soulmate gently, but steadily joined us together, cementing our physical bond for the rest of time, while branding his love and adoration to me into my very skin, with fevered lips and shaky hands. We gasped and whispered vows of devotion to one another, and then an explosion of feelings and emotions went off… I couldn’t tell where his life force started, and mine ended. We were one. Sharing a single soul. 

  After, we laid tangled together, our hearts beating as one. Peeta kissed my knuckles, and asked.

  “You looked for me, for years. Real or not real?”

  “Real.”

  He kissed my forehead, “Will you sing?” 

  “Of course,” I combed back his hair with loving fingers, and sang.

  “Just close your eyes;

You’ll be alright;

Come morning light,

You and I’ll be safe and sound.”

#alliswell21 #lovely-tothe-bone #prompt 154 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission