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angelsuecult · 3 days ago

Text

gold dust woman | s. crosby

Pt. 2

"heartless challenge

pick your path and i'll pray"

warnings: explicit sexual content, MDNI, 18+, nsfw, strong language, controversial age gap, father's friend, infidelity.

summary: Two weeks after your encounter with Sidney, he is finally able to give you what you wanted that night.

word count: 10.1k

song: gold dust woman - fleetwood mac

a/n: im going to assume you guys just wanted sidcros porn so i just put as much of it as i could, enjoy and let me know what you think!

Part 1 | Part 2

—

It had been two weeks since Sidney had seen you last, two long, agonizing weeks filled with nothing but thoughts of you. Every night, he found himself staring at his phone, scrolling through your social media, looking at pictures of you—ones you’d posted months ago, pictures with your friends, or even a few random ones of you smiling, laughing, or just looking effortlessly beautiful. And even though he didn’t have any social media accounts of his own, that didn’t stop him from searching. He’d found himself palming himself off to the thought of you more times than he’d like to admit, his mind consumed with everything that had happened between you two in his car. The way you’d kissed him, the way you tasted, how soft, pliable you felt under his hands—it was all he could think about.

The summertime wasn’t easy now. With the season over, he had so much free time, and all of it was spent thinking about you. He’d tried to stay busy, working out, hanging with friends, doing anything to distract himself, but nothing worked. Everything came back to you, and the memory of that night kept replaying in his head like a broken record. He needed more, and it felt like he’d never get it.

Now, here he was again, back at your dad’s house, sitting with him and a couple of old friends, watching a baseball game. It was supposed to be a fun, casual afternoon, but Sidney couldn’t shake the feeling of anticipation buzzing under his skin. You were in the house, just a few rooms away, and he could already feel the effect of your presence on him, even if you weren’t sitting with them.

To Sidney’s left, Cooper—one of your dad's oldest friends—reached for the bowl of peanuts and grunted. “Where’re the kids tonight?”

Your dad leaned back, cracked open another beer, and let out a long breath. “The boys are out with my wife. Took them over to that new batting cage downtown. Y/n’s here somewhere.”

Sidney’s chest tightened at the casual mention of you.

Cooper popped a peanut into his mouth and chewed noisily. “Yeah? How’s that boyfriend of hers? Kid’s a riot.”

That got a round of snorts from the other guys in the room. Another voice chimed in from across the coffee table, Doug maybe—Sid wasn’t really listening, not when your name and boyfriend were in the same sentence.

“Last time I saw him,” Doug said, “he spent ten minutes talking about his protein powder regimen. Swear to God, thought the kid was gonna ask me to spot him right there in the living room.”

The men laughed, low and rough, the sound filling the space. Your dad shook his head, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, he’s somethin’, all right. Showed up to family dinner last month wearing loafers with no socks. Said it was ‘European.’”

Another round of laughter. Sidney stayed quiet, but a slow, smug little curl started at the corner of his mouth. He kept his eyes on the TV, but his ears? Locked in.

Cooper grunted again. “A riot, I tell ya. Real character. Got opinions on everything, doesn’t he?”

Your dad took a swig of his beer, then let out a laugh that sounded more tired than amused. “Oh, you have no idea. Kid’s got a new scheme every week. Last week, he wanted Y/n to go in on some crypto thing with him. Said they could ‘build an empire.’” He made air quotes with his fingers and shook his head.

Sidney’s jaw tensed, but not out of jealousy. No. If anything, it fed that growing satisfaction in his chest. No one here was singing the boyfriend’s praises. Not your dad, not his buddies—and he already knew how you felt about him.

Doug chuckled darkly. “Bet Y/n’s thrilled about that.”

Your dad snorted. “She says he means well. But I can tell. She’s over half his shit already.”

Sidney’s fingers drummed against his thigh, slow and steady, like he was keeping time with the game. But really, it was because he was riding the little surge of victory swelling in his chest. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t need to. Because every jab and joke the guys made about your boyfriend was another tally in Sidney’s column.

And God, wasn’t that just sweet?

The game was dragging, or maybe it just felt that way because Sidney’s mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t focus on the TV, couldn’t engage in the conversation around him. His mind was too preoccupied with you, and it didn’t help that every time he thought of you, his body reacted. He shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable, but there was a persistent ache, a need that wouldn’t go away.

When the need to use the bathroom finally gave him an excuse to leave the room, he stood, making his way down the hallway toward the bathroom near your bedroom. His heart was already beating a little faster, the anticipation of possibly seeing you making his pulse quicken. He didn’t know if you’d come out, didn’t know if you even knew he was here, but the thought of being close to you again, even for a second, was enough to send a thrill of excitement through him.

Sidney stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and let out a slow breath as he splashed some water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror, trying to clear his head, trying to calm the heat that had been building inside him since he walked into your house. But it was no use. The moment he stepped out of the bathroom, there you were, leaving your bedroom at the exact same time.

You were dressed in some sweats and a little cropped t-shirt, looking effortlessly perfect, and the sight of you knocked the breath right out of him. He froze for a moment, his hand still on the bathroom door as he took you in, his eyes roaming over your body, his mind already racing with thoughts he knew he shouldn’t be having.

You met his gaze, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. There was a tension between you, a pull, and before Sidney knew it, he was reaching out, his hand wrapping around your wrist, tugging you into the bathroom with him.

The door clicked shut behind you, and the second you were alone, it was like the floodgates opened. Sidney’s lips crashed against yours, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you with all the pent-up need he’d been holding onto for the past two weeks. It was desperate, frantic, and he couldn’t get enough. You tasted just as sweet as he remembered, and the soft sound you made against his lips had him groaning low in his throat, pulling you closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you.

His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as he backed you up against the sink, the cool porcelain biting into your lower back as your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

“Fuck,” Sidney muttered against your lips, his hands roaming over your sides, slipping beneath your cropped t-shirt to feel the warm skin beneath. You moaned softly into his mouth, and that sound—the one that had been haunting him for weeks—made his head spin.

Your hips pressed against his, grinding against the growing hardness in his jeans, and Sidney let out a low groan, his fingers digging into your waist as he moved against you, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through his body.

“Missed you,” he breathed, his lips moving to your neck, kissing a trail of fire down your throat. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

You let out a breathless laugh, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pulled him closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “You think I haven’t been thinking about you?”

Sidney groaned, his teeth grazing your skin as he kissed you again, his hands slipping lower to cup your ass, lifting you slightly onto the edge of the sink as he pressed himself between your legs. Your hips rocked against him, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you ground against him, the heat between you growing with each passing second.

You let out a soft whimper, your hips moving in sync with his, the heat between you growing unbearable. His hands roamed your body, sliding down to your ass, squeezing, pulling you tighter against him as you both moved together in a slow, intoxicating rhythm.

“Sid,” you breathed, your voice full of need, your head tilting back as he kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you shiver. “We can’t—God, we can’t do this here.”

Sidney let out a rough laugh, shaking his head as his hands slid beneath your shirt, his thumbs brushing against your skin. “You’re gonna get me in so much trouble,” he muttered, but there was no mistaking the heat in his voice, the way his hands lingered on your waist, the way he looked at you like he couldn’t wait to take this further.

You let out a soft whine of frustration, grinding your hips against him one more time, just to see him squirm. “Why not?” you teased, a little smirk playing at your lips. “Scared we’ll get caught?”

“Your dad’s right down the hall.”

“C’mon Sid.”

He groaned, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath, his body still pressed against yours, still moving, still desperate for more. “I know, I know,” he muttered, but he didn’t stop. His hands were still roaming your body, his lips still trailing over your skin, and the way you were grinding against him wasn’t helping. “Fuck, I just need you so bad.”

Your hands were in his hair, tugging, guiding his lips back to yours, and Sidney didn’t hesitate. He kissed you again, deep and slow, his tongue sliding against yours as he pressed you harder against the counter. The friction between your bodies was driving him wild, and he could feel how much you wanted him, how ready you were, even through your clothes.

“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me,” he breathed against your lips, his hands sliding down to your hips, guiding your movements as you both ground against each other, the heat building, the tension unbearable. “We can’t do this here, but I can’t fucking stop.”

You moaned softly, your hips moving a little faster, the desperation in your movements matching his. “Then don’t stop,” you whispered, your voice breathless as you kissed him again, your hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer. “Don’t fucking stop.”

Sidney groaned, his hands slipping under your sweats, gripping your bare skin as he pulled you tighter against him. He could feel how wet you were, how desperate, and it was taking everything in him not to take it further. But you were right—they couldn’t do this here. Not in your dad’s house. Not with everyone just a few rooms away.

“We have to stop,” he muttered, though it sounded more like a plea than a command. His hands didn’t stop moving, his lips didn’t stop kissing you, but there was a part of him that knew they couldn’t take this any further—not here, not now.

Reluctantly, you pulled back, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Your lips were swollen from his kisses, your skin flushed, and the sight of you looking like that—like you needed him just as badly as he needed you—was almost enough to make him forget every reason why this was a bad idea.

“Then let’s do it somewhere else,” you whispered, your voice soft, but full of intent.

Sidney’s heart skipped a beat, his eyes darkening as he met your gaze. “You serious?” he asked, his voice rough.

You nodded, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. “So serious.” Then you reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, and opened it like you had every right to, with a small, knowing smile. “There,” you whispered, your voice still shaky. “Now you have my number.”

Sidney blinked, his mind still hazy with desire, but he took the phone, quickly saving your contact. His heart was still racing, his body still buzzing with the need to pull you back into him, but he knew this wasn’t the time or place.

“This isn’t over,” he muttered, his voice low and rough as he leaned in, pressing one last kiss to your lips. “I’ll call you.”

You smiled, a soft, teasing smile that made his heart skip a beat. “I’ll be waiting.”

With that, you slipped out of the bathroom, leaving Sidney standing there, hard, breathless and buzzing with anticipation for what came next.

Later, when Sidney left your house, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. His mind was flooded with every second you’d spent together, the feeling of your lips on his, the taste of your skin, the way your body had fit so perfectly against his. He gripped the steering wheel tighter as he drove, his mind racing, heart pounding, every muscle in his body wound tight with the anticipation of what was to come. He was so worked up he could barely focus, and it took everything in him not to turn the car around, march back to your house, and pull you into his arms again.

But he knew better. He needed to cool off. He needed time to think—to figure out what the hell he was going to do with this burning, relentless desire for you. He spent the next few hours pacing his house, trying to distract himself, trying to calm down, but the more time passed, the more he felt the weight of his need for you pulling him back in.

He hadn’t even made it three hours before he found himself sitting on the edge of his bed, his phone in hand, staring at your number, thumb hovering over the screen. He couldn’t stop thinking about you—your lips, your breathless moans, the way you’d looked at him with those pretty eyes, your body pressed so tight against his.

Fuck it.

Before he could talk himself out of it, his fingers were moving, typing out a text. He hesitated for only a moment, feeling the tension build inside him as he hit send.

Sid: Did you make it through the rest of the game without missing me too much?

It was short, to the point, and he hated how basic it was, but he didn’t have it in him to come up with anything clever. His heart pounded as he stared at the phone, waiting for your reply, and when it finally buzzed, he felt a surge of excitement shoot through him.

You: Wouldn't you like to know? ;)

Sidney couldn’t help but smile at the little winkey face, something so simple yet so fucking cute, and it only made him more eager. He settled onto the couch, his fingers flying across the screen as he responded.

Sid: Been thinking about you. Can’t stop, actually.

He didn’t even bother trying to play it cool anymore. You both knew where this was headed, and he didn’t have the patience to beat around the bush. He needed you to know exactly what he was feeling.

It didn’t take long for your reply to come through, and when it did, it had his heart skipping a beat.

You: Oh yeah? What exactly have you been thinking about?

Sidney let out a low groan, his body already reacting to your words. He leaned back against the couch, adjusting himself as he felt his cock stir in his sweats. The memory of earlier, the way you’d felt grinding against him, the way your breath had hitched in his ear—it was all too fresh in his mind.

Sid: You really wanna know?

The next message that popped up on his screen had his breath catching in his throat.

You: Maybe…

A slow smirk spread across Sidney’s face as he leaned forward, his mind already racing with possibilities. He could feel the tension between you two growing with every passing second, and the thought of you on the other end of this conversation, thinking about him, wanting him just as badly—it was driving him insane.

His fingers shook slightly as he typed out his next message.

Sid: You’re killing me, you know that?

Your reply came almost instantly, like you were just as eager, just as impatient for whatever came next.

You: Come on, Sid. You can handle it.

He felt his cock twitch at your words, his breath catching in his throat as he shifted on the couch. His body was buzzing, his skin hot as he imagined you saying those words to him in person, imagined you looking up at him with that teasing smile, daring him to do something about it.

Without thinking, his fingers moved quickly, typing out his address.

Sid: Come over.

There was a pause, a few agonizing moments of waiting, and Sidney’s heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the screen, waiting for your reply. His mind was racing, the anticipation building to the point where he could hardly breathe.

When your reply finally came through, it was like a shot of adrenaline straight to his veins.

You: Send me the address.

He wasted no time, quickly sending you his address, his hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline rushing through him. His body was already buzzing with anticipation, and the thought of seeing you, of finally getting to touch you again, was almost too much to handle. You were coming over. You were actually coming over. And the thought of seeing you again, touching you, kissing you—it was almost too much to handle.

He glanced around the living room, running a hand through his hair as he tried to calm himself down, but there was no stopping the heat that was coursing through him. His cock was already tenting against his sweats, the anticipation of having you so close, so soon, driving him crazy.

The seconds seemed to stretch on forever as he waited for your knock at the door.

When it finally came, the floodgates burst wide open.

Sidney didn’t waste a second. The second he opened the door and saw you standing there, everything he’d been holding back for the past two weeks came rushing to the surface. You were wearing a simple hoodie and shorts, but he barely noticed, his focus entirely on the fact that you were finally here, standing in front of him, alone.

“Hey,” you started, a small, knowing smirk playing at your lips.

But Sidney wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. He stepped forward, pulling you inside and shutting the door behind you.

“Come here, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick with need as he grabbed you by the waist, immediately pulling you into him.

His mouth was on yours before you had a chance to say anything else, kissing you with the kind of urgency that only weeks of built-up tension could bring. You melted into him just as quickly, your hands fisting into the front of his shirt as you kissed him back just as eagerly, your lips parting against his, tongues tangling in a messy, desperate kiss.

Sidney growled low in his throat, his hands sliding down to grab at your hips, pulling you flush against him. Every part of him was on fire, his body buzzing with the need to finally have you, to finally touch you the way he’d been aching to. You moaned softly into his mouth, and the sound sent a jolt of heat straight through him. He pulled back just enough to press his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“Who helped you that night?” Sidney rasped, his breath warm against your lips.

You blinked up at him, a little dazed from the kiss, your lips swollen and pink. “What?”

“That night,” he repeated, his voice a little harder now, his hands tightening on your waist. “In the car. You left me like that. Who helped you?”

You stared at him for a second, and then a sly smile spread across your face. “Oh, you mean since you didn’t want to help me?”

Sidney let out a low groan, his jaw clenching as he stared at you. “Yeah, baby. Who’d you run to after?”

You tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you traced your fingers up his chest, your nails lightly scraping over his skin through his shirt. “Oh, Sid,” you purred, leaning in close until your lips were right by his ear. “Who do you think?”

His grip on your hips tightened as your words sent a rush of heat straight through him. Sid pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you.

“Don’t tell me it was that asshole.” He couldn’t hide the edge of jealousy in his voice, the thought of you going to your boyfriend after everything that had happened between you made his blood boil.

You smiled, that same teasing smile that drove him crazy, and shrugged, clearly enjoying the way he was reacting. “What was I supposed to do?” you asked innocently, your lips brushing over his jaw. “You didn’t want to take care of me. So I had to go somewhere else.”

Sidney’s grip on you tightened even further, his body practically vibrating with frustration and jealousy. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes dark with the same need that had been driving him crazy for weeks. “Maybe next time you won’t leave me hanging, then,” you whispered, your voice low and teasing.

Sidney let out a rough laugh, his head tilting back as he dragged a hand through his hair. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, but there was a heat behind his words, his eyes darkening as he looked back down at you.

You pressed yourself even closer to him, your body warm and soft against his. “What are you gonna do about it, Sid?” you asked, your voice a breathy whisper as you leaned up to kiss him again.

That was all it took to snap whatever restraint he’d been holding onto. With a low growl, Sidney’s mouth crashed against yours, his hands sliding down to cup your ass as he pulled you against him. The kiss was messy, desperate, all teeth and tongue and heat, both of you too worked up to care about anything but the feel of each other. Sidney backed you up against the wall, his hands roaming under your hoodie and your shirt, his fingers brushing over your bare skin. He slowly backed you up against the door. You gasped into his mouth, arching into his touch as he pressed himself against you, his thigh sliding between your legs.

“Fuck, baby,” Sidney groaned against your lips, his hands gripping your hips as he rocked you against his thigh, his voice low and rough. “You feel so fucking good.”

You whimpered, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you ground down against him, the friction making your head spin. “Sid,” you breathed, your voice shaky as you pressed your forehead against his. “Need you.”

His breath hitched at your words, and for a second, he almost lost control completely. The thought of finally having you, of being able to touch you the way he wanted, was almost too much to handle. But he wasn’t going to rush this. He wanted to savor every second, wanted to make you feel every bit of what he’d been holding back for the past two weeks.

“Not yet, baby,” Sidney muttered, his voice thick as he kissed along your jaw, his hands still gripping your hips tightly as he guided your movements. “We’re gonna take our time.”

You let out a frustrated sound, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him back to your mouth, kissing him harder. “I don’t wanna wait, Sid,” you panted against his lips, your body trembling with need as you ground down against his thigh.

Sidney chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin as he kissed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. “I know, baby. But I want to enjoy you.”

You let out a soft curse, your nails scraping down his back as you pressed yourself even closer to him, your body practically humming with the need to feel him inside you. Sidney groaned, his hands wandering beneath your clothing as he pushed your hoodie over your head, leaving you in just your little crop top and shorts. His eyes darkened as he looked down at you, his chest rising and falling heavily as he took in the sight of you standing there, flushed and breathing hard, your eyes full of want.

His hands moved to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers grazing the bare skin of your hips as he tugged them down slowly, agonizingly slow. His lips pressed against your neck as he worked your shorts down your legs, leaving you standing in just your panties. “I’m gonna take care of you, I promise.”

The sensation of his lips against your skin, his hands gripping your waist, was almost too much to handle. You pressed your body against his, your fingers tugging at his shirt until he finally pulled it off, tossing it carelessly to the floor. The heat of his bare skin against yours sent a shiver down your spine, your breath hitching as you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss.

Sidney groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding down to grab your ass, and lift you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His warm, insistent mouth devoured yours, his tongue exploring deep, as if trying to claim every inch of you. The door behind you was the only thing keeping you upright at this point. The sound of fabric shifting filled the quiet room as his large, calloused hands slid up your bare thighs, sending shivers down your spine. Your fingers curled into his hair, tugging gently as you moaned into his mouth.

Just as you were losing yourself in the feel of him, the sound of your phone vibrating on the floor underneath you cut through the fog of lust clouding your mind. You ignored it at first, trying to focus on Sidney’s hands, his mouth, the feel of him pressed against you. But then it buzzed again, and again, loud against the hardwood floor, and you cursed softly under your breath.

Sidney pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours as he tried to catch his breath. “That your boyfriend, baby?” he murmured, his voice a little teasing.

You rolled your eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Probably,” you muttered, Sid reached for your phone, handing it to you. You glanced at the screen, your stomach flipping at the sight of your boyfriend’s name flashing across it.

Sidney watched you, his lips quirking into a lazy smile as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Go ahead,” he whispered against your lips, his breath warm and teasing. “Answer it.”

Your eyes widened in shock, your heart racing as you looked up at him. “Are you serious?” you whispered, incredulous.

Sidney chuckled, his hands sliding down to your hips, pulling you against him. “Go on, baby,” he said softly, his lips brushing over your jaw as he kissed down your neck. “Answer it. Let’s see if you can keep quiet.”

With trembling hands, you swiped to answer, pressing it to your ear. "Yeah?" you managed to croak out, trying to sound as innocent as possible. Sidney took the opportunity to trace the line of your collarbone with his teeth, nipping and sucking gently, sending waves of need through your body. His hands found your tits, his thumbs teasing your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt. You bit your lip, suppressing a whimper, trying to focus on the voice on the other end of the line.

"What's going on?" your boyfriend asked, his voice suspicious. You felt Sidney's hand slip under your shirt, his rough fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your stomach before cupping your breast fully. His thumb continued to circle your nipple, his other hand sliding down to the waistband of your panties. "Just...just out at the lake," you lied, trying to keep your voice steady as Sidney's teeth grazed your pulse, his breath hot and uneven.

"You don't sound like you're at the lake," your boyfriend said, his tone growing more insistent. Sidney chuckled against your skin, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. "Everything okay?"

"Mhm," you hummed, feeling Sidney's fingers toy with your panties, not yet sliding under. "It's just... really hot." Sid’s quiet laughter vibrated through your body, turning into a groan as he slipped his hand inside your panties, finding the wetness that was already building. He stroked your clit with his thumb, the pressure firm and deliberate. You nearly dropped the phone as he pushed two fingers inside you, filling you up and curling them to hit that sweet spot that made your toes curl in your socks.

You struggled to keep yourself from crying out, especially as Sidney's other hand traveled up to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, collecting the beads of sweat that had formed. "It's just... it's a really nice day out," you managed to say, trying not to let the pleasure seep into your voice. He leaned in closer, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. "Feelin’ good, baby?" he whispered, his voice a low purr that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers pumped in and out of you, his thumb still playing with your clit in a rhythm that was driving you insane.

"I can't talk right now," you murmured into the phone, your voice strained. "I'll call you back later.." You could almost hear the confusion in your boyfriend's voice as you ended the call, your eyes never leaving Sidney's as he watched you intently. His pupils were blown wide with lust. He took the phone from your hand and tossed it aside, his focus solely on the task at hand.

"Good girl," he smirked, his eyes darkening as he dipped his head to capture your mouth again. His kiss was demanding, his tongue sweeping in and out of your mouth as his fingers worked their magic between your legs. You felt yourself leaking onto his hand, the ache in your core growing harsher with every stroke. He broke the kiss, moving to trail wet kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin. You couldn't help but arch into his touch, desperately needing more.

"Sid...oh," you gasped as he found your clit again, his fingers moving in delicate figure-eights that had your thighs trembling.

He chuckled, his breath warm against your skin.

"That good huh baby?" His voice was a low murmur. You nodded, unable to form coherent words as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

You felt him lift you slightly, your legs tightening around his waist as he adjusted the angle of his hand, his thumb pressing harder on your clit while his fingers continued to explore the warm depths of your pussy. His teeth grazed the shell of your ear, sending bolts of pleasure straight to your core.

"Tell me," he whispered, his voice a hoarse demand. "Tell me how much you want me."

You took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself. "I...I want you so bad, Sid," you murmured, the words barely audible.

His fingers stilled for a brief moment, the sudden absence of movement making you whine with need. He chuckled softly.

"That's it, baby," he said, before resuming his relentless pace. The tension coiled tighter in your stomach, your muscles clenching around his fingers as the first waves of an orgasm began to build.

With a groan, you buried your face in Sidney's neck, biting down lightly to muffle the sounds that wanted to escape. He kissed along your hairline, his free hand massaged your trembling thigh.

"Come for me, baby," he whispered against your cheek, his voice demanding. "Want to feel you come all over my hand."

You whimpered into his mouth, the pleasure too intense to hold back anymore. Your eyes squeezed shut as the orgasm washed over you, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tighten your legs around his waist. His fingers slowed, allowing you to ride out the waves of pleasure that crashed through you. When you finally came down from the high, you opened your eyes to find Sidney watching you with a smug smile.

"Fuck, you're beautiful like this," he murmured, his voice filled with awe against your shoulder.

Sidney scooped you up into his arms, carrying you over to the plush sofa with the same ease he'd use to lift a puck off the ice. He laid you down on your back, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly lowered himself onto you, his hard length pressing against your thigh. You could feel the heat of his body, his dick straining against his sweats.

"Jesus," he whispered, his eyes dark and hungry. You felt your pussy clench with need, your body begging for his touch.

With a groan, Sidney slid his hand down your body, his fingertips dancing over your stomach before delving into the waistband of your panties. He tugged them down with a rough jerk, exposing your bare pussy to the cool air of the room. You shivered at the sensation, your legs spreading wider in invitation. His eyes never left yours as you tugged his sweats and boxers down to expose his hard cock, he immediately lined himself up with your entrance, the tip glistening with precum. You take it in hand, pumping it a few times before dragging it up and down your throbbing pussy.

"Oh, fuck me," he hissed, his eyes rolling back in his head.

You took the opportunity to stroke his cock, feeling the veiny skin and the hot, hard length beneath. His precum slicked your hand, making your movements smooth and easy. You watched as his expression tightened, his jaw clenched and his eyes snapped back to yours. "Tease," he groaned, his voice thick.

Your hand continued to glide over his length, the tip of his cock grazing your clit with every pass. Each touch sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, making it even harder to resist the urge to take him inside you. You leaned up, capturing his mouth in a kiss, your tongue tangling with his as you both fought to get closer, to taste more of each other.

Sidney groaned into your mouth, his hips jerking slightly as he lost some of his control. He broke the kiss, panting. "Need to fuck you, now," he said, his voice raw with need. You could see the restraint, the effort it was taking for him not to plunge into you without another moment's hesitation.

"Then do it," you dared him. "Take what you need."

The wait was torture, your entire body thrumming with need. He didn't tease you anymore, instead choosing to fuck into you with a single, powerful thrust that made you cry out in pleasure. The feeling of fullness was overwhelming, your pussy stretching to accommodate his thick length.

You arched your back, your nails digging into the couch cushions as Sidney began to move. His hips pistoned into you with a slow, steady rhythm that made your eyes roll back in your head. "F-fuck," he whispered, his face a mask of concentration and desire. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, needing more of him inside you. His movements grew more frantic, his cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, squelching sound that filled the room.

With every thrust, you could feel him hitting that perfect spot deep inside you, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. "Right there," you moaned, your voice rough.

Sidney's eyes never left yours as he moved. "Right there?" he asked, his voice low. "You like my cock inside you, baby?"

You nodded frantically, unable to form coherent words as the sensation of his thick length moving in you overwhelmed you. "Mm," you managed to breathe out, the word coming out as a desperate plea for more. "Fuck me harder, Sid."

Sidney's smirk grew wider, his teeth flashing in the dim light of the room. He loved it when you talked dirty, when you begged for it. His hips slammed into you with a force that made the sofa creak beneath you. You could feel your breasts bouncing with every impact, your nipples tightening into painfully hard peaks that begged for his attention.

He leaned down, his teeth capturing one sensitive nub, teasing it with gentle nips before soothing the sting with a swirl of his tongue. You cried out, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, pushing your chest up to meet his hungry mouth. His other hand slid down to cup your pussy, his thumb finding that sweet spot that had you seeing stars moments ago. He rubbed it in time with his thrusts, the dual sensations making it impossible to think of anything else.

"Sid, oh my fucking God, Sid," you chanted his name. Your legs tightened around his waist, urging him on, your pussy clenching around him. He groaned into your skin.

Sidney's rhythm grew more erratic as he approached his own high, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. He could feel your wetness coating his cock, your walls pulsing around him. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss. Your hands roamed his body, feeling the tension coiled in his muscles, the dampness of his back as sweat beaded and rolled down his spine.

"You're so fucking perfect," he murmured against your lips, his voice barely above a growl. He could feel his release building, the pressure at the base of his spine growing almost unbearable. You whined into his mouth, your body begging for relief, your pussy tightening around his cock as if trying to milk him dry.

With a final hard thrust, Sidney buried himself to the hilt inside you, his hips grinding against yours as he spilled his seed deep within you. The feel of him coming inside you sent you spiraling over the edge once more, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and trembling.

For a second, he didn’t move, his cock pulsing, breath hot and heavy against your neck. Then, with a low groan, he pulled out, the loss of him leaving you feeling empty. You watched as he sat back, his cock still hard and glistening with both of your juices. "Shit, baby," he panted.

He reached for your hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss each of your fingers. "You're mine," he murmured, the words sending a thrill through you even with the sticky mess between your legs. You felt his come start to dribble out of you, probably staining the cushion beneath you. "Always going to be mine."

He took his cock in hand and stroked it slowly, watching you watch him. He gathered your mixed releases onto his tip and pushed into you once again. He didn't move, didn’t thrust, just stared into your eyes as if making sure you knew he was trying to make sure you could feel him.

"Sid..." You breathed out.

He reached down, his hands sliding around your thighs, and before you knew it, he picked you up, never pulling out of your still-quivering pussy. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs automatically going around his waist as he carried you through the hallway, the warmth of his cock still inside you. It was a strange feeling, being so filled and yet so empty at the same time. You could feel the warmth of his come on your thighs as he carried you, and it sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. He lays you down on the bed, the cool sheets a big difference to the heat of his body. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight of you, sprawled out and panting, before climbing back over you. He kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your collarbone as he moves down to your chest.

"I've been dreaming about these tits for weeks," he murmurs, his eyes dark with lust as he cups your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples. You gasp as he takes one into his mouth, sucking hard. His tongue swirls around the peak before he bites down gently, the sting making your pussy throb. You can feel your need building again, a slow burn that's starting to spread through your entire body.

He kisses down your stomach, his scruff tickling your skin, and you can feel the heat of his breath as he approaches your core. "Spread your legs for me," he says, and you obey, needy to see what he'll do next. His tongue immediately swipes over your clit, and you jolt, your body already sensitive from your recent orgasm. He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin. "So responsive." He licks you again, this time a little slower, savoring the taste of you.

He's relentless, his tongue flicking over your clit before plunging deep into your wetness. You grab fistfuls of the bedsheets, trying to hold on as he takes you to the brink again. "Sid...oh, fuck," you gasp, your hips bucking against his mouth. He hums in response. He kisses the insides of your thighs before moving back up, his mouth finding yours again. You can taste yourself on him, which almost makes up for the orgasm he didn’t give you.

But he wasn't done with you yet. Not even close, not when he’s been waiting weeks to feel you. He stood up, his cock hard again. "On your knees," he said.

Before you can say anything, or even move, he flips you over himself, so you're on your hands and knees on the bed. He just smirks down at you, that knowing smile that makes your stomach flip. You're on the edge of the bed now, knees spread, ass in the air.

You look up at him through your lashes, your eyes full of want, and he nods, wanting it just as bad as you do. You lean forward, your hands wrapping around the base of his dick as you take him into your mouth. He groans, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair as he starts to fuck your mouth, his movements rough and demanding. You gag, but you love it, the feeling of him filling you up so completely, pushing past the limits of what you thought you could take.

You could feel his eyes on you, watching as you took him deep, your cheeks hollowing with each pass. His hand tangled in your hair, guiding your movements, setting a pace that had you gagging slightly around his length.

Your eyes water, but you don't stop, your tongue swirling around his length as he hits the back of your throat, it only adds to the feeling of being used and adored all at once. His hips are a blur, his cock moving in and out of your mouth in a steady, punishing rhythm that makes your throat tighten around him. You reach down to touch yourself, your pussy slick and swollen, your fingertips slipping easily through the mess he's made of you.

"Fuck," he groaned, his eyes half-closed with pleasure. "Your mouth is heaven." You took him in deeper, letting his cock slide to the back of your throat and sit there. You felt his grip tighten, his other hand coming to rest on the back of your head as he pushed in even further. You choked, your throat convulsing around him, and he chuckled. "Take it," he encouraged, his voice a low whisper. "Take all of me."

Your scalp begins to sting as he starts to fuck your mouth with more urgency, his hips pumping faster. You can feel his release coming, the muscles in his thighs tensing, and you know he's close. You suck harder, your cheeks hollowing out as you take him all the way in, your throat working around him. He lets out a strangled groan, his cock swelling even more, and you know you're pushing him to the brink.

With one hand still playing with your clit, your pussy is so sore. The stimulation is intense, your fingertips rub against your sensitive flesh, and you can't help but whine around his cock. You're so close again, your body begging for release, and you give in, sliding two fingers inside yourself. They glide in easily, coated with his come and your juices, and you start to fuck yourself in time with his thrusts. The vibration makes him curse, his eyes never leaving yours, his strokes growing more violent. "You're gonna make me come," he warns.

You can feel your jaw starting to ache, but you don't care. All that matters right now is getting him off, making him come apart in your mouth. You reach up to grip the base of his dick, using it to stroke him in time with your bobbing. His cock sliding in and out of your mouth with a wet, lewd sound that makes you even wetter. You can feel your pussy clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled by him again, but for now, this is enough. This is more than enough.

His balls start to tighten, and you know he's close. With a final, desperate push, Sidney empties himself into your mouth, his warm come spurting against the back of your throat. You keep sucking, eager to get every last drop, then he pulls out with a wet ‘pop’. You open your mouth and show him your tongue, white with come, the salty taste of him filling your mouth.

“Christ,” he rasps out, panting, his cock glistening with your saliva and his come. You lick your lips, savoring the taste of him, feeling more alive than you ever have before.

Still on your knees, Sid puts his hands on your hips, moving you so that you're facing the mirror across from his bed. He's not done with you yet. He presses down on your lower back, forcing your ass further up. "I want you to see your face when I make you come again," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

You look up at him in the mirror, your cheeks flushed. You know what's coming, and you can't wait. He lines his cock up with your pussy, and you feel a shiver of anticipation run down your spine. With one hand, he grips your hip, holding you steady as he slams into you from behind. You cry out, the force of his entry making your eyes water, and he slaps your ass, leaving a red handprint that makes you moan.

"Touch yourself, baby," he says, his voice a low growl. "Go ‘head."Your body is already stretching around him, your pussy slick with come and need. His strokes are deep and slow, his cock dragging out before slamming back in, making you whine and squirm. He grabs one of your hands, guiding it between your legs, your fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he fucks you. "Yeah, just like that," he murmurs, his eyes on your reflection as you touch yourself.

You can feel his hand on your neck, squeezing gently, the other gripping your hip so hard it's probably going to leave marks. He's lost in the rhythm, his eyes half-closed, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. You're lost in it too, your hand moving faster, your breaths coming in pants. "Sid...baby," you moan, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. His eyes snap open, meeting yours in the mirror, and the intensity of his gaze makes you feel like you're going to break.

"Gonna come for me, baby?" he grunts, his voice strained with his own need. "Wanna feel you come all over my cock." The words are like a trigger, sending you spiraling. You tighten the circles on your clit, your body arching as wave after wave of pleasure and pain washes over you. You feel him swell inside you, his own orgasm close, and you push back into him, eager to take all of him.

You moan into the mattress, your hand still working your clit, your other hand squeezing your breast. The pressure builds, a crescendo of pleasure that feels like it's going to tear you in half. You can see his face in the mirror, the look of concentration as he watches you. "Come for me," he grunts, his voice deep and demanding. "Come all over my cock."

And then you do. With a cry that's half pleasure and half pain, your body convulses, your pussy clenching around him as you squirt, the wetness soaking the bed beneath you and his thighs. He pulled back, his cock slipping from your quivering, dripping hole, the sight of you squirting making him even harder. He drags his cock through your folds, his thumb pressing down on your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you're shaking, until you can't take anymore.

Sidney's cock was still hard, still demanding more, but he took his time, his hand moving between your legs to gently coax more pleasure from your swollen clit. You whined, the sensation almost too much, but you didn't want it to end. Sid seemed to know that, "Just need a little more baby." Before pushing into you again. He needed to come, and he was going to do so inside.

"Sid, please," you begged, your voice barely a whisper. He moved a bit faster, his eyes never leaving your face.

"I'm almost there, just a little more, baby," he murmured, his voice strained. The feel of your walls pulsing around him was too much for him to resist.

"Oh, fuck, baby," he groaned, his voice tight with tension. "You're going to make me... ah, fuck..."

Sidney's cock swelled inside you, and with a final thrust, he came. You felt the hot spurt of his come fill you, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm. He groaned, his eyes squeezed shut, his entire being focused on the pleasure that was consuming him.

He groaned, his eyes squeezed shut, his entire being focused on the pleasure that was consuming him. "Fuck, baby," he panted, his voice hoarse. "That was... fucking incredible."

You couldn't help but hum, a smile tugging at your lips. Your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your own climax. As his hips slowed, you could feel his cock begin to soften, his come leaking out of your pussy and onto the bed. You felt satisfied, a need had been fulfilled beyond your wildest dreams. "It was," you agreed, your voice a breathless whisper.

With a sigh, Sidney pulled out of you, his soft cock glistening with your combined releases. He collapsed beside you, his strong arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you into the crook of his body. You snuggled closer, feeling his warmth seep into your bones. The bed was a mess, the comforter and sheets sticky with sweat and your juices, but it was your mess.

He nuzzled into your hair, planting soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. "You okay, baby?" he murmured, his voice filled with genuine concern. You nodded, your cheek pressing into his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

With a gentle tug, Sidney pulled the comforter up, so that you were nestled against his side, your legs tangled in the mess of the bed sheets. The scent of sex clung to the air. He reached over and grabbed a clean towel from the chair beside his bed, gently wiping away the sweat and come that coated your skin. His touch was soft.

His arms were heavy around you, but you didn’t mind. Not one bit. You fit against him too perfectly, like you were made to lay right here — chest to chest, his big hand sprawled warm and wide over your bare back, fingertips tracing lazy little circles at the dip of your spine. The air in the room was cool, but his body heat had you flushed and soft and sleepy against him, every inch of you sinking deeper and deeper.

He smelled faintly like sweat and his sheets, and just under that, like whatever was left of your perfume, transferred to his skin from hours tangled up together. His nose nudged into your hair every so often, and each time, his hold tightened. Like he was still trying to convince himself you were really here.

Your breathing was slowing down now, evening out with that heavy, blissful sleepiness settling in your bones. But his heart — you could hear it, thudding strong under your ear where your head rested on his chest.

Sid let out a soft sigh through his nose and pressed a kiss to your temple, voice low and a little rough. "Baby... you falling asleep on me?"

You hummed, barely moving except to nuzzle closer, lips brushing against his skin. "Mhm... comfy." Your voice was wrecked, scratchy and soft, and it made his chest tighten in the best, most dangerous way.

"Shit, you’re so sweet like this," he muttered, voice dropping lower. His hand skimmed higher, fingers threading into your hair at the back of your head, massaging slow, gentle strokes that made you melt. "Could hold you like this all night, y'know that? Don’t wanna let you go."

"Then don’t," you mumbled, barely coherent, and god — that made him smile, all crooked and a little breathless.

He kissed your hair again. "But you gotta go, yeah? Before your old man starts sending out a search party."

At that, his home phone rang sharply against the nightstand. You groaned, face scrunching up as he reached for it with a sleepy grumble. Sidney’s big hand held it for a bit before hitting answer.

"Stay," he murmured, voice gravelly, lips brushing your cheek. "Just for a little longer."

The phone rang again.

With a dramatic sigh, you peeled your face off his chest and squinted at the screen. "It's my dad," you groaned. "Fuck."

Sid let his head fall back against the pillow with a grunt. "Of course it is. Perfect fuckin’ timing."

He tapped to answer, already bracing. "Hey, man..." he said, trying his best to sound normal, like he didn’t have his buddy’s daughter naked in bed after what felt like marathon sex. Your eyes flicked up, catching Sid watching you with that stupid soft smile and sleepy eyes, one hand still stroking lazy circles on your back.

Your dad’s voice crackled through the speaker. "Hey Sid, how’s it going?"

"Goin’ good, you?" His voice stayed steady, thank god, but you could hear his heart pounding.

"Good. Good. Hey, you wouldn’t have happened to see my kid around, have you?" he said, clearly not suspecting.

"No, no, I haven’t. Everything alright?"

“I think so. She said she was gonna go out with her friends but… she just hasn’t been answering her phone.”

“Gotcha, well I haven’t seen her but I’ll let you know if I do.”

“Alright, thanks, Sid, talk to you later.” And with that, he hung up.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered.

Sid chuckled, deep and low, the sound vibrating under your ear. "Well, guess that’s our cue, huh?"

"Unfortunately." You scrunched your nose and peeked up at him through your lashes. "Gotta go before this turns into a whole-ass disaster."

Sid sighed, long and reluctant, but his hand smoothed down your back, comforting. "Yeah, yeah. I get it, baby." His other hand cupped the back of your head again, guiding you in for one more slow, lingering kiss — warm and sweet and just shy of desperate. "Doesn’t mean I have to like it, though."

You smiled against his mouth. "Nobody said you had to."

"Fuckin’ hell," he muttered, kissing you again, this time slower. His hand squeezed your hip gently. "You feel so good in my bed, baby. Gonna have a real hard time letting you leave."

"You're not making this any easier," you whispered, grinning as you finally pulled back.

"Yeah, well—" He sat up with a groan, dragging a hand over his face. "C’mon. Let’s get you dressed before I change my mind and keep you here." His voice was playful but thick with that same frustration you both felt.

He climbed out of bed first, stark naked and not bothering to hide the mess you two had made of each other. You giggled, covering your face.

"Don’t laugh at me, baby," he grumbled, smirking as he handed you a blanket so you could go back to the living room where every single piece of clothing was abandoned.

He followed closely behind. Watching as you grabbed your shirt from where it had been tossed onto the floor hours ago. "Here. Arms up."

You did as told, sitting up slow with a wince. "God... everything hurts."

Sid’s hands paused as he helped you slide the shirt, no bra, down over your head, eyes flicking up to meet yours with a look equal parts concern and satisfaction. "Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to wreck you that bad." He smoothed the shirt down over your hips, lips quirking. "Actually, that’s a lie. Kinda did."

You swatted at his arm. "Dick."

He just laughed, soft and warm, helping you to your feet next. His hands steadied you when your legs wobbled. "Easy, sweetheart. I got you."

You gave him a look, half annoyed, half fond. "God, you and your big ego."

Sidney just grinned, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. "Uh-huh. And you love it."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, too busy stepping into your shorts, no panties, with a grimace. "I’m gonna be walking funny for days."

Where the hell are your underwear?

His hands smoothed down your sides once you were dressed, thumbs stroking little circles at your waist. "Should’ve thought about that before you came over looking like a fuckin’ dream." His lips brushed your ear. "You gonna be okay with all those marks, baby? Your dad’s not gonna ask questions?"

You shrugged, careless. "He won’t. He’ll just assume it’s my boyfriend." You shot him a wicked little smile over your shoulder. "Let him."

Sid barked out a laugh, low and sharp. His hand swatted lightly at your ass as he turned you toward the door. "Alright, c’mon. Before I say screw it and drag you back to bed."

You both padded through the quiet house, the late hour making every creak in the floorboards sound louder. At the door, he grabbed his hoodie from the hook and draped it over your shoulders. "Here. Cover up those pretty marks I left."

You smirked, pulling it tighter around you. "You’re obsessed with me."

"Damn right I am," he muttered, pulling you in for one last kiss. This one was slower, deeper, his hand cupping your jaw while his thumb stroked your cheek. "Text me when you get home, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah," you whispered against his lips, heart hammering. "Promise."

He kissed you again, like he couldn’t help it. "Good girl."

Your legs were still a little wobbly as you made your way to your car, Sid trailing behind you, big and warm and still looking like he didn’t want to let you go. At the driver’s side door, he caught your hand, lifted it to his mouth, and kissed your knuckles slow.

"You drive safe, baby."

You squeezed his hand back. "I'll see you soon."

"You better." His voice was rough now, low with something that made your stomach flip.

You slid into the car, biting your lip to keep from smiling too wide.

Sid leaned down, kissed your temple through the open window, and then stepped back with a soft curse under his breath. "Fuckin’ troublemaker," he muttered fondly.

And as you pulled away into the night, Sidney just stood there in his driveway, arms crossed, watching your taillights disappear — already counting down the minutes until he could get his hands on you again.

—

#angelsuecultwrites #angelsuecult #gold dust woman | s. crosby #sidney crosby #sidney crosby fic #nhl #sidney crosby imagine #nhl imagine #nhl players #pittsburgh penguins #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby smut #reqs open

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babybearnation · 4 months ago

Text

i love it because i love you

⎇f1 drivers x gn!reader ; he talks about you in his native language (reactions) ⎇contains: arthur leclerc, charles leclerc, dino beganovic, zhou guanyu, kimi antonelli, max verstappen, mick schumacher, paul aron, pierre gasly, yuki tsunoda ⎇author's note: new content style round 3 :D full summary: he talks about you in his native language and you overhear but he doesn't realise you speak the language. native english speakers not included because i don't think it makes sense lol. ⎇content warnings: n/a ⎇word count: 1.2k

arthur leclerc:

horrified. straight horrified. not only did he not realise you were right behind him, he also didn't know you spoke french. he's blushing ferrari red and charles is laughing at him but he's frozen to the spot. he wants to run away and act like he doesn't exist, but he's stuck in place, stuck under your gaze like you're medusa and he's the idiot who fell into your trap.

when you come over and shoo everyone else away before whispering your responding confession to him in shaky french, he can't stop himself from leaning forward to kiss you. it's only a quick peck but soon he's pulling back and babbling apologies in such messy, frantic french that you literally cannot understand him now because you're still a newbie at the language.

it's adorable, really.

charles leclerc:

you think mans isn't just running off and finding the nearest hiding place? you're wrong. after hearing you respond to his confession of his feelings for you in damn near perfect french, he starts running away like a damn cartoon character. except, in true charles fashion, he's kinda fucking dumb, and he forgets that you can literally see him as he runs away.

when you open the door to his hiding spot and hit him with your best "seriously?" look, he flushes, avoiding eye contact and squeaking out a shy little apology. it makes you giggle and he perks up before he's asking you out, a sudden rush of confidence flooding his veins. when you say yes, he's tugging you into the hiding spot with him so he can kiss you, entirely unaware of how suggestive it looks.

yeah, he gets in trouble with his pr team for that one..

dino beganovic:

he's awkwardly chuckling and stammering out apologies in a mix of swedish and english because he isn't sure which language is the best option and all of his friends are laughing at him (fondly, of course) so he eventually just shuts up and meets ur gaze with a tight-lipped smile. you, of course, find this charming.

when you step forward and take his hands in yours before sharing that you feel the same way in adorably broken swedish, dino can't help but get shy all over again, prompting another round of laughter from his friends. it only gets worse when you lean up and kiss his cheek before promising to talk later and practically sprinting off.

he's bright red for the rest of the day.

zhou guanyu:

f1 is so european-centric that whenever guanyu hears another person speaking mandarin, he gets all excited. this time, however, he's mortified. he'd been yapping on the phone about you in mandarin before you'd appeared, prompting him to end his call. when you shakily confess your feelings to him in mandarin, he's shook.

he stammers and stutters before bowing to you, not knowing how else to express his gratitude and admiration for you. when you giggle at his actions, he looks up fondly before immediately launching into a rapid monologue in mandarin that you can barely understand. he seems to catch on and just sighs, shaking his head at his own stupidity.

"i like you, y/n. that's a decent enough summary of what i just said."

kimi antonelli:

honestly, he lowkey makes it worse? when he comes to realise you've overheard him and understood what he's been saying about you, he breaks and starts speaking only italian. luckily, you understand the language quite well, but it makes the entire situation so awkward. like.. there really is no denying that kimi likes you now.

luckily, you like him back and you say as much to him, prompting a very cute blush to spread across his face. he's still very much broken so he ends up responding in italian and eventually, the two of you have settled back into speaking casually the way you were before. it's only when someone notices you're speaking italian that kimi gets reminded of what you two said before and he gets shy again.

yeah, he ends up speaking exclusively italian all day because of it.

max verstappen:

oh boy, he's fucking embarrassed. it takes a lot to embarrass him or make him shy but you? you make him so flustered and giddy he forgets basically every english word ever and just speaks exclusively in dutch around you. it's very much a problem, then, when he discovers you speak fluent dutch. oh god.

when he asks if you've understood his dutch in the past and you hit back with some form of teasing over hearing his many admissions of his feelings for you, he gets embarrassed. when you kiss him, however, the old max returns and he's all confident again, kissing you back and claiming that you're his.

that doesn't mean you won't stop teasing him about this, though.

mick schumacher:

oh this sweet boy is horrified. he's almost positive he's going to get rejected when he discovers that you can speak german and that you've been hearing him consistently praise you over and over to his friends practically right in front of you. then again, that does explain why you kept blushing...

but when you share your feelings for him in slightly wonky german, he can't help but giggle and get all happy, shyly lifting his hands to his face in a weak attempt to hide his rapidly worsening blush. you end up blushing as well, and really, you're just a pair of cherries at this point with how red you both are.

but hey, you both get a partner out of this blunder, so who's upset?

paul aron:

estonian is not a common language to hear in amidst the world of f1. paul is aware of that. that's why, when his brother is supporting him at races, he freely speaks estonian to him, especially when he's talking about you. so when he overhears you talking to his brother in estonian, he's fucking terrified.

of course, before he can run off, ralf spots him, and so he's forced to confront you and the knowledge that you know about his feelings for you. rather than being upset, however, you shoo his brother away and shyly confess your feelings. paul goes speechless and decides to just kiss you as a response instead.

ralf never lets him live it down.

pierre gasly:

he's actually not as shy as the others when he learns that you can speak french and have spoken it this entire time. he thinks its cool and you two end up bonding over and speaking almost exclusively in the language... and then he forgets and starts talking about his feelings for you in front of you.

you giggle and pull him to one side before explaining your own feelings and even then, even after being so embarrassed that he'd slipped up so easily, he recovers quickly and starts flirting with you, making you laugh and smile.

and really, isn't that what he wanted to achieve?

yuki tsunoda:

you know that one clip of him where he calls swearing beautiful and then retracts it almost immediately? yeah, something similar happens when he discovers you can understand him when he's speaking in japanese. he's horrified, literally pale as a ghost, when you respond to his lovesick comment with a shaky expression of gratitude.

before he can run off and join a travelling circus or something, you're pulling him into a kiss, soft and tender. when you two part, he can't focus and the words "will you be mine?" slip out from his mouth (in japanese of course). when you giggle and respond in japanese, it's game over and he's running off, claiming he needs to do a lap of the paddock to calm down.

you find it so adorable that you really can't complain.

#ᵔᴥᵔ fics #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 reactions #f1 reactions #formula 1 headcanons #f1 headcanons #formula 2 #f2 #formula 2 x reader #f2 x reader #babybearnation

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opashoo · 3 months ago

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Hi! This is a question about your (really cool) Scuglang. Now, I have noticed that you sometimes use the Rain World symbols and script for your Scuglang. Because of the language not being a European-based language, I'll assume that there isn't really an alphabet, so to speak. How did you apply the Rain World symbols to your Scuglang, and how does it work enough to be able to be written?

Hello and thank you for taking interest in my (really cool) Scuglang Yongasabi, I am very proud of it. I have yet to make a more comprehensive guide as to how the writing system works but I threw together a very rough and simple guide on my work computer with mspaint and a mouse just now.

So at its core, Yongasabi uses an abugida, so all regular consonant characters are pronounced with an added A by default (ka, ga, ta, pa, etc...) As you can see by this diagram, writing a line above the character changes the A to an I (so ka becomes ki) and a line below changes it to an O instead (so ba becomes bo).

Then there's the long vowels. For standalone long vowels, the Monk symbol is written within the long vowel characters. When combining the with a consonant, the Monk symbol is replaced with the consonant (as you can see here with P and S).

CVC (consonant-vowel-consonant) syllable blocks, syllables that start and end with a consonant, are written by stacking the consonant characters. By default, they are read CaC, but writing a line above turns it into CiC. Separating the characters makes it CoC.

There's also CVC syllable blocks using long vowels but I'll cover those another time when I have better tools and more time.

Here's an example of the language written with the writing system, then romanized, translated, and broken down into its grammatical parts. It took a lot of time tuning the writing system to account for all the possible syllable block combinations but I'm happy with the results! Funny enough, it started as an attempt to make a working writing system out of Rain World's glyphs, just as a thought exercise, and eventually I wanted to make a whole language to support the writing system (then the writing system changed radically to support the new language.) Thank you for asking, and hopefully I'll have a release post for the language ready soon, since it is actually finished at this point.

#rain world #conlanging #rw conlang #yongasabi #rw undergrowth AU #pashdraw #rw saint #rw slugcat #shark rambles #rain world glyphs

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jiminjamms · 1 year ago

Text

sex therapy :: 25. messed up

chapter tags/warnings: naoya fucks toji's ex-wife again. aggressive sex. creampie-ing. misogynistic! naoya. hurt/comfort. naoya views women as nothing but a hole. broken marriage. heavy angst. infidelity/adultery. family drama. strong language. manipulation undertones. corruption.

word count: 4.1k

notes: thank you always for all the support! on to the plot for our final arc! this beginning excerpt is a rewording from a line in “spy x family” (any fans out there?) that i believe captures the dynamics in our characters as well. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

❝ Every person has a self that one conceals, a side not shown to anyone else. Not to friends. Not to lovers. Not even to family. Behind lies and painted smiles, individuals shield their true natures and desires…and, in doing so, the world thus maintains its thin veneer of peace. ❞

Who in the world was Toji Zenin?

The Toji that you had always known was Toji Fushiguro, so what was your husband’s cognomen doing besides your sex therapist’s first name on the latter's university diploma?

Even Google seemed to deny that Toji Zenin existed.

Showing results instead for ‘Toji Fushiguro.’

No, that was not what you wanted!

One step forward in understanding this enigmatic man might as well be three steps backward because, each time you thought you had learned something about him, you only come to the realization that nothing much had been discovered at all.

But as investigations via search engines, social media sites, and Wikipedia pages proved futile, sources that could quell your curiosity dwindled.

So, you turned to your last resort.

“Who’s Toji Zenin?”

“What—”

Across from you, the raspberry macaron in Mai’s hand stopped by her lips as the girl snapped her focus from the pastry to your unanticipated question, with Maki visibly turning stiff in the adjacent chair. The three of you sat surrounding a small table in the twin’s private lounge, located in the northern wing within the Zenin residence.

Visiting the central family property was not uncommon ever since your engagement and wedding earlier this year, but the architecture would never fail to impress you. The mansion itself resembled the Imperial Palace more than anything—an edificial centerpiece defined by the elegance and simplicity inherent in traditional Japanese design, with latticework embellishing the wooden exterior and, inside, carefully painted doors opening into tatami rooms.

Given that Mai and Maki were back in Tokyo for their summer breaks from universities abroad, the sisters established themselves as your close friends and had brought you into their tea room, adorned with European furnishings that would come off as atypical compared to the Japanese heirlooms elsewhere in the residence. On the table sat an imported tea set from England, at the center a French-inspired pastry tower prepared with caramel-topped croquembouches, chocolate-covered profiteroles, and the like.

In great admiration, the sisters had been barraging you with inquiries about your life back in your bachelorette days, asking about your volunteering trip to the Philippines or the charity auctions in Dubai.

Now, with the shift in discussion, the sisters exchanged an uneasy look.

An entire conversation appeared to be held in the way they traded glances. The usual sparkle in their eyes faded, which must mean the girls were remarkably uncomfortable, but Mai forced a polite smile as she placed down her macaron.

“Y/N,” she began carefully, “May we ask how you know Toji?”

Even though she tried to spin the question as casual curiosity, her apprehension could not be more obvious.

“I don’t know him, really,” you lied. While dishonesty went against your morals, watching the twins’ shoulders fall with relief was enough to assuage the guilt. “He’s just…” My friend, to put things in the mildest terms. “He’s just a name I have heard. That’s all.”

Maki dabbed at her mouth with a lace handkerchief, not making a big deal as she added, “Toji’s a cousin.”

So, the Zenin last name on his diploma was not a coincidence at all.

Such a groundbreaking discovery should have thrown you into a whole whirlwind but, to be frank, the realization did not come off as too surprising at all. If anything, Toji as a member of the Zenin family was the perfect explanation to why Toji seemed so astute, why he would talk like he knew more about Naoya than you, and—as Geto had once said—why Toji was ‘not where he could possibly be.’

While Toji’s reason for opting for the Fushiguro name remained a mystery, what you did know now was that he was indeed affiliated with the twins before you by blood, which—by extension—must mean that Toji would also be a cousin to…

…your husband.

Wait.

An unsettling chill ran down your spine.

“Cousins, as in,” part of you didn’t want to know the answer, “distant cousins? Or…?”

“No,” the older twin interjected matter-of-factly, not knowing the full background behind your seemingly innocuous question. “First cousins.”

Ah, so the closest type of cousins possible, which was exactly what you had hoped not to hear. With this additional information, you tried to hide the clamminess in your palms. What would be the best word to describe this void now? Did you feel disappointed? Misled? Betrayed? Toji certainly had known that you were wed to his younger cousin, yet he willingly chose to hide his background as he kissed you, touched you, and fucked you.

A reversal from your sentiments before, you currently felt both disgusted and hurt.

Why did Toji keep this information from you? What sick person derived satisfaction from having sex with his first cousin’s wife? You were so damn stupid for placing all your trust in him. Looking at the situation now, he was just another iteration of the same manipulative and disrespectful man you had been trying so hard to avoid.

“Are you close with Toji?”

Mai shook her head. “No. We don’t talk to him anymore.” Her comment struck as odd. Anymore? Had they once been, then? Before you could ask, her gaze darted around in caution before she leaned forward and said lowly, “For your information, Naoya got into a huge dispute with him earlier this year.”

That’s quite recent.

You understood that Mai and Maki had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped as they did not want to slander the family heir in front of his wife. Blissful ignorance was what the twins must be thinking, hoping to preserve the peace between you and your husband. However, what you had yet to reveal was the broken marriage that had been masked for everyone’s sake, disguised by a pretense that all was well.

Which was why, on that note, the timing could not have been more perfect as a tall young man with ombre hair and hazel eyes flung open the door in one unforgiving slam, rattling the fine china and startling the seated individuals inside.

“There you are, you whore!”

Your eyes widened with shock upon seeing Naoya Zenin in the entryway, your husband’s scowl icy and malicious. He came stomping toward you as his eyes held a dangerous hostility that was impossible to ignore, and you could oddly sense an impending doom when he stormed with zero regard for anything in his path, kicking aside a potted plant and toppling over a ceramic vase.

Standing up, you tried to hide the confusion that befuddled your already mish-mashed brain.

Today was Tuesday.

Was he not supposed to be at work?

“Naoya,” you began calmly, cognizant of the onlooking sisters behind you, “this is not the right place to—”

“You’re such a fucking desperate bitch, aren’t you?” His words were sharp and bitter, his glare filled with hatred like a fire doused with gasoline. Before you could request clarification, he stopped steps away and swung his right hand up, pressing a black business card to your stunned face, the paper crinkled from his intense grip and rendering you petrified in your stance.

No, this couldn’t be…

From your peripheral view, you watched Mai and Maki place their hands over their open mouths as they read Toji Fushiguro’s calligraphed name on the business card that also had in obvious words: 'sex therapist.' Shame racked your stomach. Merely minutes ago, you convinced the twins that Toji was to you nothing more than a name, and now, karma bit you back like a bitch.

With your voice evaporated, you croaked.

“Where did you find that?” You had been sure that you placed the badge away.

Naoya used his anger to crumple the card and tossed the now useless paper ball to the side. “In your purse,” he gritted, “How long were you planning to hide this from me?”

The ensuing guilt suffocated you. “I—” I don’t know.

Sensing the weakness in your will, Naoya burst into a maniacal laughter that cracked through the air, creating a disconcerting symphony. He bent forward, shoulders convulsing with every diabolic and mirthful guffaw.

“You’re so god fucking pathetic, woman. Do you have any idea who Toji Fushiguro is? That bastard is Toji Zenin, you ignorant slut—he is my cousin. Well, I guess I never told you about him, though, because he doesn’t fucking matter anymore anyway. I don’t know how you ended up crossing paths with him, but this is hilarious!” The man kept cackling and roaring like he had gone insane. “Were you two brewing shit about me? Actually, let me guess since you’d gotten hold of this business card: did you have sex with him? Did you have sex with Toji? Going around fucking your husband and then your husband’s cousin is nothing to be proud of. Tell me, did you meet the other sex therapists as well? Did you get stretched out by them, too? Whose dick did you like best? Whose? Whose? Is that what you like, being passed around and used like some sick trophy? What a fucking animal! How dare you disrespect our marriage. How dare you disrespect your own hus—”

Your hand lashed out before you could suppress the impulse and delivered one resounding slap across Naoya’s face. You watched him shut up and stumble backward, clutching his cheek.

"Ow!"

For a moment, the world seemed frozen still: the sisters gaping in complete stupefaction, your husband staring at the ground wide-eyed, and you heaving from the incoming emotional onslaught.

”How dare you…How fucking dare you disrespect me!” The coalescence of anger, agony, and resentment—bottled up in your heart for months upon months—was now being released as you dissolved into tears. “What the hell is wrong with you?! How could you say such messed up things? You are sick in the head, Naoya, you know that? Out of respect for myself, how could I possibly respect you?!” The only sound echoing in the room became your uncontrollable cries, sobs that escaped past your lips in raw and muffled bursts. Torn apart by sorrow, you could hardly breathe from how constricted your throat had become, your knees wobbling and weak. “Y-You have no idea how lonely and miserable I have been since I walked down that aisle. For the past six months, you—as my husband—have done absolutely nothing but make me feel like a rat in my own home, a mistress in my own marriage!”

“Fantastic! Exactly what I wanted to hear, I am glad I have made your life horrible!” Naoya snarled, not caring for how everyone else’s eyes widened at the scathing statement. Unbelievable. Truly, painfully unbelievable. Did your husband really just say that to your face? He could not give a shit that you wept pitifully, instead catching your shaky wrist in the tightest grasp possible as he added on, “My only regret is that I had not made your life even worse.”

“What the fuck!” you heard Mai gasp as a gut reaction.

What the fucking fuck, indeed.

While you had been subject to Naoya’s verbal harassment during these many weeks, for him to tell you that he wished he had tortured you further was beyond heartless. The searing ache that burned your skin might as well be fatal because your respiration turned erratic like someone had trapped you inside a bubble.

Hyperventilating, you subsisted on shallow gasps.

“Don’t go around thinking that you’re any better, alright? You’re calling me pathetic for sleeping with your cousin, but have you considered that I had been placed in that position because, since the start, you’ve been cheating on your wife?”

Yelling at his face allowed you to release more tears from your lachrymose eyes. Now, Mai and Maki must truly be appalled at all these revelations. What happened to the fairy-tale marriage you had told them about? Well, that never existed to begin with, and with these thoughts in mind, you found a sadistic satisfaction in watching your lawful spouse fume with deep-seated rage.

“That’s right,” you mused with derision, “we’ve been two sides of the same coin all along.”

Naoya clenched his hands at his sides, disgusted to have been compared to you. “Do not put me on the same level as—”

“No. No, you don't get to talk! All you have done since we have been married is for you to talk and complain and bitch about everything, but now, this is my turn,” you screamed in return. “I…I hate you!” and you pointed right at him, “In fact, I despise you. You never tried to see what I had to tolerate to stay with an asshole like yourself because you had been too busy sticking your dick into another woman while you could hardly look at me! No wonder your cousins worried about me. No wonder Toji told me to file for a divorce. Because you, Naoya Zenin, are a total piece of shit!”

His momentary pause hinted at the tiniest self-actualization that flickered within him. Perhaps he finally realized how you had been feeling now that you freely spat out all the turmoil that had been chaining your soul. He took one additional step toward you, torn between whether he should keep up with his anger or succumb to remorse for hurting you.

But, knowing this man, he—of course—opted for the former.

“I never,” he seethed lowly, “wanted this marriage.”

Maybe you truly have become deranged or maybe you genuinely found his statement funny, for you began to emit tearful cackles in your laughter.

“Now, that is one big fucking lie.” Since your earliest encounter, Toji had suggested that Naoya solely regarded you as nothing more than ‘a sweet, innocent fuck,’ and the longer you had stayed with your husband, the more you began to acknowledge how these accusations were all true. “We all know that you’re going to be nothing without me. A CEO who could hardly keep his wife for half a year? What a loser. What makes you believe that I wanted to be married to you? Who do you even think would want to do business with you after this? You never had respect in the real world because all that respect rests upon me.”

While you never fully understood Naoya, your words must have snapped a particular chord in him because he suddenly lunged forward.

“Fucking cunt—”

But before he could get too close, you darted away from him. “Don’t touch me!” you shrieked, voice shrill from the top of your lungs. “Do not ever touch me again. If you want to lay your dirty hands on someone, go touch your girlfriend instead!”

That’s right, he had another woman who he doted on far more than he could appreciate you. This wedding band, this engagement ring on your left hand meant absolutely nothing. Toji had been spot on—why the hell did you cling onto stupid shit like this, twisting the jewelry as if that would save your messed-up union? Without further empathy, you slid off the two rings and hurled them toward your husband’s chest before the circlets clinked upon hitting the ground.

At first, Naoya scoffed. He watched the ludicrous scene with a comical gaze, and when his brain processed what he just saw, he quickly fell onto his knees. All at once, he tossed his head back and let out a chortle—a full-bodied cachinnation that took the room completely aback—as his hysteria mounted.

“Good, good, good!” His screeches were like those of a maniac, his chuckles haunting, throaty, and lacking in sanity. “I’m glad that you’ve come to show the witch that you have been all along! Look at yourself! No wonder no one wanted you!”

Unable to be a bystander any longer, Mai stood up and hurled toward her cousin. “Shut the hell up, Naoya!”

But the said man was quick, using one powerful movement to punch the older twin first. “You shut the hell up, scum. Unless you want to be pummeled to the point where people will feel sorry to look in your direction.”

“Watch what you say!” and when Naoya turned to the new voice, the evil glint gleaming from his brown eyes appeared ablaze.

“Oh? Someone’s bold, too. Shall I bully you first then, Maki?” the timbre in his disdainful laugh crescendoed into unhinged amusement. “Say one more word, little girl,” he taunted, his imp-like face riddled with mockery. “C’mon. I dare you. I will throw you into the courtyard and beat your ugly face up. That’ll bring back warm memories from the good old days, huh?”

The younger twin gritted her teeth, her sister reaching for her arm as a signal to back down and stay levelheaded.

Meanwhile, once Naoya rose from the floor, he nonchalantly kicked at the rings because those emblems of your union had always been meaningless garbage anyway.

“If wanted to leave this badly, then fucking leave,” he deadpanned, his tone the calmest he had been this whole time. “I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Those were your husband’s last words as he walked away, leaving you sobbing and shuddering with a lost soul and sore heart. While weeping and gasping, you had to endure watching his figure fade from view, all while wanting to stop the uncomfortable distress that heightened with his departure. You were huffing, panting, trying to stop your trembling.

The second Naoya slammed the door behind him, Maki ran up to your side and embraced your shaking form, all while you bawled and clutched at yourself. Her expression remained strong, but her palms were damp as they pressed onto your back, her arms quavering slightly as she soothed your cries.

“Sh, don’t cry. My sister and I are here, okay? Mai and I will protect you. Everything will be alright.”

Despite her reassurances, she sounded nearly as broken as you appeared, especially when your hand violently trembled because nothing could save you from the agony that drowned your tattered soul. You felt the disgusting urge to throw up—you were completely broken inside. In a futile attempt, you sought to regulate your breaths with one deep inhale.

Yet, at some point, Maki peeled back and she mouthed something.

Was she talking to you?

Why…why could you not hear her?

She sounded so muffled, as though you were underwater.

Why did everything sound so far away?

With your throat constricted, you could not breathe. Gagging. Gasping. Big, huge gulps of air, but the oxygen failed to enter your lungs. You couldn’t breathe. You could not fucking breathe.

You gripped the fabric by your chest and your other hand sought for something else to hold, but you ended up on the ground anyway. Choking. Coughing. Was something foaming at your mouth? Something warm and wet spilled from your orifices. Were you vomiting? Why were you vomiting?

Holding your body upright, Maki was the only reason that you had not remained on the floor like a fool, but even she stared at you with concern and…horror? Why did she look so scared? Was she screaming? She looked like she was screaming, but her face appeared all contorted like you were looking at her through a fish-eye lens.

After a while, you could not even see her or her sister anymore because your vision turned spotty and then black.

See!

Open your eyes, and see!

Why could you not see?

When your hearing returned to some degree, the sounds that filled your ears were frantic shouts and endless clamor.

“Call Toji! He’ll know what to do. Hurry, where is your phone?” It was Mai. Scrambling. Bags were being opened. Items being tossed. “Call Toji, now!”

A phone started to ring.

Buzzes and buzzes and more buzzes as the waiting intensified.

Then voicemail.

Hello, this is Toji Fushiguro.

“He is not picking up!”

Unfortunately, I am unable to pick up the phone right now.

“Get…”

But please leave your name and number—

“Get Megumi.”

—and I will return your call as soon as possible.

“What about Tusmiki?”

“Tsumiki is still in London at university, idiot! Call…Call Megumi!”

“Okay. I know, I know! I’m calling him already!” someone screamed back. Was this Mai? Was this Maki? You could no longer tell, but the same person shouted, “Wait, wait. He is calling back. Toji is calling me back.”

“Then pick up the phone!”

“Toji…” one of the twins started, the cracks in her tone making her sound like she was weeping too, and her words composed your last bits of memory before the world dissolved completely. “Please…help us.”

Even labeling Naoya Zenin as ballistic would be far too much of an understatement.

The rage, wrath, and sheer indignation that swelled in his every capillary surpassed the twenty-five years' worth of virulent rancor that he had for his fucked-up family.

Since when did you get so goddamn arrogant? Naoya wanted to hurt you, ruin you, and do everything in his power to sabotage you.

Not just you, though. Because that would be too easy.

But also his father, his cousins, his ex-coworkers, and—most importantly—Toji.

Such ill feelings were what led the Zenin CEO to practically leap into the Mercedes-Benz that awaited him at the entrance to his family home, and he immediately ordered his chauffeur to press on the pedal toward a very certain condominium several kilometers away.

Fifteen minutes later, a very surprised Mari opened her door and an enraged Naoya greeted her, shoving her against the wall and colliding his lips into hers for a fierce kiss. His actions lacked passion, only charged with aggression as he stripped her and threw her onto the living room sofa. He could hardly care that he treated the woman as though she was nothing more than a prostitute, while the latter mistook her boyfriend’s rage for desperation, and she begged for him to pull at her hair and force his tongue down her mouth.

At some point, Naoya drove his mistress’s face into the couch cushion and dragged her hips to have her ass raised high. He was too clouded by fury and too blinded by anger to think twice before he forcefully penetrated the woman. He fucked her raw and held her close, jostling her body as though she was a ragdoll, eliciting her loudest mewls that cried for his name.

“J-Just like that!” she whimpered, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he pummeled into her dripping hole, paying no mercy for destroying her with his ruthless pace. Her knees gave out from under her, and she crumbled from the sofa and into the carpet, only for him to tumble too to follow the socket he needed to keep his dick soaked.

“I need to break you,” he hissed.

Fuck, he was going to come soon.

His nails left crescent marks on her flesh, his hands burning her scalp as he tugged her strands and met her buttocks with hard thrusts, and he knew he was going to come.

Feeling the first of his seed trick into his mistress’s life-giving cavern, he toyed with the idea of giving Tsumiki and Megumi a baby sibling. That would be fun. He could then imagine the subsequent mortified reactions from his deplorable cousin and from his wretched wife (whom he would hardly call himself married to anymore, anyway). The fantasies, everything that he would do to spite those who had wronged him, had Naoya cackling as his viscous cum spurted from his tip and deep into his mistress’s womb.

He pulled out once he made sure that every single drop had been milked from him, his ejaculate dribbling from her pussy like someone had taken a bite from a cream-filled donut.

Rolling into the carpet and onto her back, a panting Mari took two fingers and pressed his precious seed back into her cunt. “That was so hot.” A lazy smile pulled across her face. “Thank you for the unexpected visit.”

Naoya completely dismissed her comments as he tucked himself back into his pants, not in the right mood to respond.

“Cool. Clean this mess up,” he demanded instead, “I’m leaving for work.”

He ignored the woman’s ensuing pleas to stay at least five minutes longer. Unlike her, he had better things to do, and he rushed out as he fetched his phone from his back pocket and surveyed for any messages he might have missed while he had been away.

But when he turned on his screen, his most recent notification had his blood turn cold.

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: The absolute fury in the argument, the complete panic between the twins, and the maniacal temperament in our husband…so much packed in this chapter! If you can’t tell already, my favorite POV to write from is Naoya’s, ha. Also, I took some creative liberty here to convey the intense emotions, so let me know what you think! Hugs to all.

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

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eatmeandbirthmeagain · 4 months ago

Note

С Hello, hello, dear author, I am so addicted to your works that I can fully say that you are simply the best writer I have ever seen, I simply melt from your works related to Baldwin,Seriously!I would like to read something sad, so I would like to ask you to write something sad, where Baldwin and Y/N They are married, everything is fine with them, but one day Y/n became terribly ill with some kind of disease,it soon becomes clear that this is a dangerous disease and unfortunately Y/n dies, and Baldwin is saddened and broken.

)(English is not my native language, so I apologize for the mistakes and thank you in advance author!)!!

♧ Everything Is Worse Now - King Baldwin x Reader ♧

♧ Angst ♧

A/N: Hello dear Sevina!! I am so greatful for your support and your such kind words, you have no idea how much they mean to me🫶. Thank you so much for this beautiful and sad request, it was a pleasure to write and I hope you enjoy it!! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

P.S. Im sorry this is so short, I wanted it to be more like a uhh poem kind of I guess?? Like short and sweet yk?? Idk if I'm making any sence but I hope you all enjoy!! Also SORRY FOR ALL THE ANGST. Next one will be fluffy I prommise 😭😭

TW: Death, Disease, Leprosy, Not a happy ending

It was an abnormally cold evening when it began.

The queen's condition had been faltering for a few days now, but she merely brushed it off as fatigue. Things had been stressful with the threat of invasion any day now, it was only natural to feel exhausted at times such as these.

Nevertheless, the young king was deeply concerned about his wife.

“Please my love, I need you to see one of my physicians. It could be serious-”

“Darling, I can assure you that I am perfectly fine. Truely, there is no need to fret, you have enough to be worried about. Please don't let my condition weigh on your mind” she had told him, taking his hands in hers with that gentle firmness that he so adored.

It only became worse from there. Baldwin had been attending a meeting when he received news that y/n had collapsed while walking the gardens.

He abandoned the meeting in a second and used every ounce of his strength to climb the stairs to the royal chambers where he was met with the horrific sight of his beautiful wife, pale and weak, laying atop their shared bed with physicians working at her side.

He staggered to her side, about to collapse himself, and took her hand pressing it to the cool metal of his mask.

The familiar sensation caused y/n to open her eyes to look at her husband.

She smiled weakly.

“Perhaps I should have been checked out sooner hm?” she chuckled.

Baldwin couldn't help but smile sadly. Even in the darkest times she always managed to make him smile.

Naturally, the young king assumed the worst possible scenario: That his vile disease had been passed to his beautiful wife.

He could barely think of the possibility without breaking down right there and then so he attempted to keep his mind away from the idea.

“My lord?” a physician spoke gently beside him.

Baldwin looked up at the young man expectantly, “may I speak with you a moment?” the physician asked.

The king nodded, giving y/n one last look before walking towards the door.

“Do you know what could be wrong?” he asked, his voice trembling with fear.

“We have a fair idea, my lord. Her symptoms match that of the flu. It is a European disease, this is all we know so far”.

Baldwin's heart sank and felt relieved at the same time.

On one hand, his worst fear had not come true and his perfect wife had not been tainted by his vile flesh. But on the other hand, she was still very ill with a disease he had only read about in books.

He felt light headed but was determined to stay on his feet. He had to be strong for her.

---------------------------------------------------

Her condition worsened further from that day onwards, as did the rumours in the castle.

Guy was of the firm belief that Baldwin had contaminated the queen with his vile disease and all of his followers and friends were of the same view.

Baldwin himself avoided everyone and everything that wasn't y/n.

Despite the warnings from the physicians that she may pass her disease onto him, thus killing him faster, he didn't care.

“I'm dying anyway, what's the point in avoiding it if she’s not going to be by my side in a few weeks” he told them.

They spent every moment together, taking in their last few days by each other's sides. Y/n could barely move and her fever made her weak but Baldwin could not care any less.

He read to her, prayed over her and spoke of his days to her, even if she didn't have the strength to reply.

This was exactly what she had promised to do for him in his last days, it didn't seem right to be the other way around. They even continued to sleep side by side. Just as if nothing happened at all.

When y/n would wake in the night, brought to consciousness by the low grade fever, she would admire her sleeping husband.

“I’m so sorry” she would whisper.

“I'm so sorry that I have to leave you. It wasn't supposed to be like this”.

---------------------------------------------------

It wasn't until another abnormally cold morning that Baldwin opened his eyes to find her stiff with the icy touch of death.

He sat up and wept at the sight until physicians came to take him to another room. Baldwin was simply inconsolable and he stayed that way for days.

He became a shell of a man. Refusing to leave his chambers or even eat.

“You must snap out of this and tend to your kingdom” Sybilla had told him.

“The land will be in ruins if you continue like this-”

“I care not for the land any longer!” he snapped.

“Let your foul husband have it to himself for all I care” he said with a wave of his hand as he began to cry again.

Sybilla put a hand on her brother's back, “just because she is gone doesn't mean you must go with her” she said gently.

“I see no use in living if she can't be by my side. I'm dying anyway Sybilla, the future of the kingdom matters not to me. Let Tiberias take care of my duties while I am here. Just go and pretend as though I am dead already” he looked at her through the holes in the mask, those blue eyes that used to be so filled with happiness when he was a child were now empty and red with tears.

“I can't leave you like this Baldwin” she whispered, pulling him into a hug.

He closed his eyes and for a moment imagined that it was y/n hugging him instead.

“She would have wanted you to be strong and go on. To lead the kingdom as you did when she lived” Sybilla said, not knowing if her words were even getting through to him or not.

Baldwin sighed.

“I'll do my best, dear sister”

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jokeroutsubs · 5 months ago

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[ENG SUB + Article Translation] Delo's Personality of the Year Bojan Cvjetićanin: They sing Slovene in Dublin because of him

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Bojan Cvjetićanin: They sing Slovene in Dublin because of him

The frontman of the band Joker Out, Bojan Cvjetićanin, is a candidate for Delo's Personality of the Year. The energetic singer and talented lyricist remains grounded despite his popularity.

Original article written by Urša Izgoršek for Delo. English translation by @kurooscoffee and a member of JokerOutSubs, proofread by @flowerlotus8

All ten nominees are listed in this article.

Full article below the cut.

Delo's Personality of the Year

Bojan Cvjetićanin: They sing Slovene in Dublin because of him

PHOTO: Bojan Cvjetićanin says that his generation faces many unresolved questions that cause anxiety. PHOTO: Črt Piksi

The frontman of the band Joker Out, Bojan Cvjetićanin, is a candidate for Delo's Personality of the Year. The energetic singer and talented lyricist remains grounded despite his popularity.

With Joker Out, Cvjetićanin has achieved incredible popularity on the European music scene, surpassing any other Slovenian pop or rock band to date. They've exceeded their own dreams and broken language barriers, with fans singing along in Slovenian wherever they perform, from Dublin to Milan and Oslo. As an energetic singer and gifted songwriter, Bojan represents a voice for the young generation, which is declaring that their time is coming: The game of hatred is your thing, thank you very much, don't count on us.

The 25-year-old musician, along with his bandmates Jure Maček, Kris Guštin, Jan Peteh, and Nace Jordan, has risen to stardom in just over two years while staying firmly grounded. "Sometimes even we ask ourselves how we manage it. We talk a lot with our producer Žare Pak, who we could call our sixth member. I think I, as well as the others in the band, have normal life habits. None of us is prone to any excesses, so we don't have to hold ourselves back in that sense. I live the way I have always lived, basically," says Bojan Cvjetićanin, who recently told Vikend magazine that he is glad that sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll are not the guiding principles of their band. Joker Out is driven forward primarily by the enjoyment of performing on stage, meeting new people, and creativity.

What Bojan enjoys writing about the most is love, and he uses this emotion to describe the relationships within the group, too. "It's a partnership between five people, which is very complex. We spend a lot of time together, know each other well, and have learned when not to push certain buttons or when to offer someone a shoulder—not to cry on, but to vent." However, he also says there is nothing wrong with men showing emotions.

We briefly met with Bojan at Kino Šiška the day after returning from a concert in Zagreb and before heading to Maribor and Vienna, where Joker Out had two more sold-out concerts. That evening, when he could have taken a breather, Bojan also took the time to perform with the Police Orchestra at a concert titled Slovenia Breathes 0.0, because he likes to support causes he finds important.

One such cause was a concert aimed at improving the treatment of women with gynecological cancer. Cvjetićanin is compelling on stage and also when he talks about always adhering to the 0.0 rule behind the wheel. "My parents instilled in me the mindset that you don’t want to carry the weight of something going wrong because of one beer. I always called a taxi since I know people who have been deeply affected by the reckless actions of drunk drivers."

Life Motto: Do what you believe in, and trust the people you love.

The verse written in the introduction is from their hit 'Carpe Diem', with which they performed at Eurovision, and the song contains another meaningful thought: "We'll dance all night long/We'll love each other and play/As if we'll be gone tomorrow" Young people face an uncertain future, and Bojan says his generation has many worries due to rapid changes.

"We are confronted with many unresolved questions, more than ever before. They create unease, anxiety, and I think all of this can be felt. On the other hand, young people are treated as fully responsible global citizens, yet youth is often mentioned in a derogatory sense, as if it’s not yet our time to get involved in what's happening and we should just wait a little longer."

He never considered building a career outside Slovenia:"I always imagined a musician's life in the style of Tomi Meglič. Tomi was my alpha and omega. Only later, when I started writing in my mother tongue, Serbian, I began to think about the possibility of performing in the former Yugoslav region. As a teenager, my dreams were limited to Slovenia, and even that would've been more than enough for me," says the musician, who's grateful for the safety and many other aspects of living in Slovenia.

However, it seems that audiences abroad want to keep listening to them, and on their brand-new album 'Souvenir Pop', Bojan sings in three languages: Slovenian, Serbian, and English.

Žare Pak, producer of the band Joker Out

Žare Pak PHOTO: Jože Suhadolnik

I met Bojan Cvjetićanin five or six years ago when we were working on the song 'Gola'. For about three months, I put him through a vocal "torture", but I knew we could make something out of this boy. He is completely devoted to music, it’s in his blood, and he’s a great creator.

I see him the way most people who like him see him: he doesn’t act. He’d rather focus on discovering himself than playing a role. He's a very good person and also very intelligent. His charisma is connected to this.

Sometimes I tell him: Lucky you, whatever you do, even if it's wrong, you’ll fix it with this smile of yours. His smile is a powerful weapon. What’s amazing about Bojan is that he can make everyone feel like he has a personal relationship with them. When he’s on stage, everyone in the audience feels like he’s singing just for them. But that’s who he is. And because of people like Bojan, I’m happy to be in this profession.

#joker out #jokeroutsubs #bojan cvjetićanin #žare pak #delo #jo: bojan solo #source: delo #year: 2024 #og language: slovenian #type: article

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antimony-medusa · 1 year ago

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MCYT on Ao3 — January '24

The state of MCYT on Ao3, just for fun. Yes I do this every month, I like numbers. This time the period we're covering will include many holiday exchanges, so I'm excited to see if that's represented!

The Cube SMP (8 works)

Slamacow Minecraft Animations (Web Series) (10 works)

iDots SMP (23 works)

30 Day SMP | Free Trial SMP (27 works)

Legacy SMP (28 works)

Cogchamp SMP (29 works)

Content SMP (30 works)

Epic SMP (32 works)

Art of Survival SMP (36 works)

Dominion SMP (38 works)

Shady Oaks SMP (49 works)

X Life SMP (51 works)

100 Hours Hardcore SMP (54 works)

IvoryCello's Prison Escapes (Web Series) (56 works)

Bear SMP (60 works)

SadSMP (66 works)

My Inner Demons - Aphmau (Web Series) (67 works)

Mer SMP (82 works)

Area Unknown SMP (89 works)

Kaboodle SMP (91 works)

Tortillaland SMP (115 works)

House Builder Gang SMP | HBG SMP (135 works)

New Life SMP (169 works)

Slimecicle Cinematic Universe (Web Series) (174 works)

WitchCraft SMP (182 works)

Pirates SMP (213 works)

Rats SMP (234 works)

SMPLive (295 works)

SMPEarth (304 works)

Mianite (Web Series) (379 works)

Outsiders SMP (393 works)

Afterlife SMP (395 works)

MindCrack RPF (504 works)

MyStreet - Aphmau (Web Series) (543 works)

Evolution SMP (693 works)

Minecraft: Story Mode (Video Game) (824 works)

Karmaland SMP (842 works)

Fable SMP (1,012 works)

Lifesteal SMP (1,546 works)

Origins SMP (1575 works)

The Yogscast (3,215 works)

Empires SMP (6,408 works)

QSMP | Quackity SMP (7,375 works)

3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series (10,336 works)

Hermitcraft SMP (20,093 works)

Dream SMP (85,051 works)

Minecraft (Video Game) (110,119 works)

Video Blogging RPF (279,422 works)

Some notes:

No new tags that I saw this month, though as always I could have missed something! As you can see, we already have quite the assortment of canonized tags.

Fics are still primarily in english, but we have three exceptions with significant spanish fics. Karmaland (740 of 842 are in spanish, from 731 last month), Tortillaland (110 of 115 are in spanish, the same as last month), and QSMP (752 of 7,375 are in spanish, from 668 last month.)

QSMP also shows 39 fics in French, up from 30 last month, and 405 in Brasilian Portugese, up from 375 last month. While I did not check every language this month, I checked on the languages I knew had a fic in QSMP and we see 1 fic in ASL (probably a misclick as it appears to be in english), 1 fic in Bahasa Malaysia, 1 fic in German, 1 fic in Esperanto, 1 fic in Filipino, 5 works in European Portugese, 5 fics in Русский (Russian), 1 fic in Suomi (Finnish), 1 fic in Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese), and 3 fics in 中文-普通话國語 (Mandarin Chinese, I believe), all the same as last month. New is two fics in Polski (Polish), one fic in Svenska (Swedish), and one fic in Dansk (Danish).

In the small and micro fandoms (under 200 fics), some of the most active small fandoms have grown out of this category so we only saw small amounts of growth. The standout fandoms all saw an increase of 6 works, and that was a tie between Content SMP, New Life SMP, and Witchcraft SMP. Note that Content SMP was coming up from only 24 works, so 6 new works is an increase of 25% of the fandom, truly impressive.

In the midsize fandoms (200-1000), Fable SMP has broken that 1000-fic mark and can no longer qualify for our standout fandom! Instead, our most active fandom was Evolution SMP, with 33 new works, followed by Mystreet with 20 fics and Minecraft: Story Mode with 24 fics. Mystreet and Story Mode are both new fandoms so it's unclear whether that's people retagging old work or true new fics.

For the post-canon big fandoms: Empires went up by 178 works, singificantly more than last month's 117, but not beating the previous month's 240, and Dream SMP's increase of 918 beat the previous month's 767, but is still only the second time I've seen this fandom fall under a thousand works plus a month. Hermitcraft is between seasons right now, but still experienced that holiday exchange boost, as its increase of 784 beat both last month's 574 and the previous month's 651. For active fandoms, traffic series posted a staggering 831 fics, which is its highest ever number, beating April 2023's 671 fics. QSMP saw 865 fics, which is part of a three month decline (894 last month, 913 the month before), but still posting numbers that are only exceeded by DSMP.

Overall, the number of fics posted under Video Blogging-RPF (the umbrella fandom that contains all MCYT) is 4,223 fics, a significant increase from last month's 3,489, and the previous month's 4,035, but still exceeded by October's record 4,702. Notably, it's higher than the summer numbers and almost exactly the same as the number we saw last January, 4,235 new works.

Detailed breakdown under the cut

The Cube SMP (8 works, 8 last month, 0-fic increase)

Slamacow Minecraft Animations (Web Series) (10 works, 10 last month, 0-fic increase)

iDots SMP (23 works, 22 last month, 1-fic increase)

30 Day SMP | Free Trial SMP (27 works, 27 last month, 0-fic increase)

Legacy SMP (28 works, 28 last month, 0-fic increase)

Cogchamp SMP (29 works, 29 last month, 0-fic increase)

Content SMP (30 works, 24 last month, 6-fic increase)

Epic SMP (32 works, 32 last month, 0-fic increase)

Art of Survival SMP (36 works, 36 last month, 0-fic increase)

Dominion SMP (38 works, 33 last month, 5-fic increase)

Shady Oaks SMP (49 works, 47 last month, 2-fic increase)

X Life SMP (51 works, 50 last month, 1-fic increase)

100 Hours Hardcore SMP (54 works, 54 last month, 0-fic increase)

IvoryCello's Prison Escapes (Web Series) (56 works, 54 last month, 2-fic increase)

Bear SMP (60 works, 59 last month, 1-fic increase)

SadSMP (66 works, 66 last month, 0-fic increase)

My Inner Demons - Aphmau (Web Series) (67 works, 64 last month, 3-fic increase)

Mer SMP (82 works, 80 last month, 2-fic increase)

Area Unknown SMP (89 works, 87 last month, 2-fic increase)

Kaboodle SMP (91 works, 87 last month, 4-fic increase)

Tortillaland SMP (115 works, 115 last month, 0-fic increase)

House Builder Gang SMP | HBG SMP (135 works, 134 last month, 1-fic increase)

New Life SMP (169 works, 163 last month, 6-fic increase)

Slimecicle Cinematic Universe (Web Series) (174 works, 169 last month, 5-fic increase)

WitchCraft SMP (182 works, 176 last month, 6-fic increase)

Pirates SMP (213 works, 195 last month, 18-fic increase)

Rats SMP (234 works, 229 last month, 5-fic increase)

SMPLive (295 works, 286 last month, 9-fic increase)

SMPEarth (304 works, 289 last month, 15-fic increase)

Mianite (Web Series) (379 works, 373 last month, 6-fic increase)

Outsiders SMP (393 works, 374 last month, 19-fic increase)

Afterlife SMP (395 works, 390 last month, 5-fic increase)

MindCrack RPF (504 works, 503 last month, 1-fic increase)

MyStreet - Aphmau (Web Series) (543 works, 523 last month, 20-fic increase)

Evolution SMP (693 works, 660 last month, 33-fic increase)

Minecraft: Story Mode (Video Game) (824 works, 800 last month, 24-fic increase)

Karmaland SMP (842 works, 824 last month, 18-fic increase)

Fable SMP (1,012 works, 945 last month, 67-fic increase)

Lifesteal SMP (1,546 works, 1,461 last month, 85-fic increase)

Origins SMP (1,575 works, 1,541 last month, 34-fic increase)

The Yogscast (3,215 works, 3,213 last month, 2-fic increase)

Empires SMP (6,408 works, 6,230 last month, 178-fic increase)

QSMP | Quackity SMP (7,375 works, 6,510 last month, 865-fic increase)

3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series (10,336 works, 9,505 last month, 831-fic increase)

Hermitcraft SMP (20,093 works, 19,309 last month, 784-fic increase)

Dream SMP (85,051 works, 918-fic increase)

Minecraft (Video Game) (110,119 works, 438-fic increase)

Video Blogging RPF (279,422 works, 4223-fic increase)

#MCYT on Ao3 #Ao3 #stats #fandom stats #DSMP #QSMP #Hermitcraft #Trafficblr #qsmp

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dozyisdead · 7 months ago

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I’ve never really thought about how lonely it must be to be a “First” until I got into F1. I’d like to explore that a little bit with you guys if you don’t mind.

1. Sir Lewis Hamilton

We all know what makes him a First, but there’s layers to it. Lewis is the First Black driver, First Black point scorer, First Black race winner, First Black championship winner. He is a lot of Firsts, and he’s set and broken so many records, he’s become so decorated. He’s a master of his craft, but that is where it gets lonely. I don’t know if many realize it, but racism is rampant in the world, despite how many will deny it, and it’s very rampant in Europe. Yes, I can’t speak much as an American, but at the same time we do not deny it and try to hide it so vehemently as some of Europe does. And in that world Lewis has talked about being called racial slurs from a young age, when he was still in karting. There’s a specific interview I keep thinking of, and it breaks my heart every time I think of it. Lewis has been set alone from the second he started, and he has never been to blame for it. But him being a First has become so Important, and I know he has people that make it known that he is not alone.

2. Zhou Guanyu

I don’t think people realize this, But Zhou is the first and only Chinese F1 driver to ever race. He has become a pillar of movement in that act, in a way like Lewis. I know there are obvious differences in their positions, but it’s still a monumental feat. We have know that F1 is dominated by Europeans, and yes there have been asian drivers before him, but to be the First for your country? It’s a position filled with pressure and can often be isolating, especially when you take language and culture into consideration. Not only is he one of two Asian drivers on the grid, he’s the only one who speaks his language. And I’m speaking from the perspective of someone who’s learning other languages when I say English is hell to learn. It’s my first language and I do not understand it at all, I can’t imagine how hard it is for someone who’s uses completely different characters like Yuki or Zhou. But Zhou, he is loved, and I wish people would acknowledge the steps he has made as a First, as someone who opened a door for others.

3. Logan Sargeant

The first American on the gird to score points in over 30 years. Yes, there had been other American drivers since Andretti’s 1993 season, Scott Speed and Alexander Rossi, but they did not score points. There’s actually something that I would like to point out regarding one of his predecessors, Mr. Speed, as they both completed a season and a half. But, that’s beside the point. Logan, be the first in a long time, in this century, is a lonely thing. There’s other drivers who I think can attest to that, but I feel like it’s a very unique thing, especially when you come from a place where something like F1 isn’t as big as say NASCAR, or even Indy. It’s a little film of separation that you can feel, no matter if it’s as thin as a spider web.

4. Ralf Schumacher

The First openly homosexual former driver who raced in F1, it’s a beautiful feeling to know he’s become comfortable enough to share it. I can imagine the hell it caused him mentally and emotionally to be in such a position that made it to where every moment could be taken out of context. And I would like to point out the impact he made, by not revealing it until later. The fact that we knew him first as a good driver and not as “the gay man in F1” is so important and people might not understand that. He is a First of ground-shaking proportions, and I sometimes wish we could have known sooner, but I also understand him so well. I’m the first openly queer person in my family, and as the first openly queer person in a partially south asian family, it’s terrifying. I can’t imagine how it would have been for him, in what we call the peak of motorsports, in a sport that has so much distaste for even women participating, if someone who was queer was to try. He has put himself on a pedestal that shows others that it’s okay to exist in that world, not just drive. You, Ralf Schumacher, have done so much more than you can think.

There are MANY more, I know, but those three have stood out to me recently. Everyone has their own little pedestal that they stand on, that shows how unique they are, but there is nothing quite like a First. I have so much love for all of these men, and so much joy and sorrow for them.

Being a First is lonely, I know it well and I have learned it well, but when you are in a sport that gives you no privacy like F1, it becomes even lonelier. They are human, and as other Firsts in our own lives and worlds, we must not forget that.

#f1 #formula 1 #logan sargeant #zhou guanyu #ralf schumacher #lewis hamilton #queer pride #pocs #Firsts #being a first is lonely #but we are not alone on this earth #i’m so proud of every one of them

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somethingusefulfromflorida · 3 months ago

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If there are any linguistics professionals reading this, I could use some help.

I'm doing research into Proto-Indo-European, the mother tongue of much of Europe and South Asia, and I recently discovered Schleicher's Fable, a short story about sheep and horses which has been translated into a dozen proto-languages to show how different branches envolved over the millennia.

My problem is that I don't know the word order or declensions (suffixes for different conjugations) of any of these languages, so I have no idea which words mean what throughout the text.

I know owis/hovis/avis means sheep (same etymology as modern English "ewe")

Ekwos means horse (equus, equestrian, etc.)

Wlna/wlana/vilno means wool

Oinom/aikam/enem means one

Krd/kart/sird means heart (cardio)

Widntei/widntbhos means see/seeing/sight (video/visual)

I think agnutai/egnutoi means hurt or pain (agony) but I don't know for sure

Same with megehm/megam for big (presumably like mega/magnum)

I can recognize a handful of other words from context, but some sentences completely confuse me. The phrase "heavy wagon" appears to be "woghom wegontm," both words of which look like they possibly share the same root, but I don't know which means heavy and which means wagon. All the variations of "dgmonm oku bherontm" mean "carry a man quickly," but I don't know which words corresponds to carry, man, or quickly. I think bherontm means carry because it has the -ontm suffix which I think marks a verb, but again, I just don't know.

I don't know the words for "the master makes the wool of the sheep into a warm garment for himself" or "the sheep fled into the plain." It's helpful that the story is broken down into lines, but it doesn't explain what each individual word means in order, so I don't know the proper translation.

Does anyone know where I can find an in depth breakdown of Schleicher's Fable with every word and declension annotated? I've tried looking up Proto-Indo-European glossaries/dictionaries online, but every corpus spells the words differently (lots of subscript letters and numbers and asterisks), some words have multiple PIE translations and no two sites agree on which to use when. It's not helpful at all.

I need a word-by-word translation, something like:

PIE: owis kwesjo wlna na est ekwoms speket

Literal: sheep which wool no have horses saw

English: a sheep which had no wool saw horses

Does anyone know where I can find the proper resources for this project?

#help me tumblr #linguistics #proto indo european #pie #proto language #schleicher's fable #the sheep and the horses #etymology #history #translation #dead languages #indo european #languages

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atopvisenyashill · 28 days ago

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Not to act like a child snitching to a parent, but I just saw the take 'People throw the word coloniser when it comes to the Targaryens but the Starks are right there, Martin is clearly playing with the themes of European colonialism and supremacy way more with them and their relationship with the Wildlings.' in the year of our lord 2025, and like, man... idk. No one in this fandom has a grasp on anything anymore, and I'm kinda starting to doubt that we ever did.

On second thought, maybe I shouldn't be so pressed about this because I think I might have seen this same person say that it's racist to depict the Starks as non-white, because 'Northerners are described, on text, as savages that look ugly and unruly' before and I just fundementally disagree with them on a lot of levels

Yeah okay, the thing about the "starks are european colonizers of the cotf" stuff is that

this is part of the ongoing trend with Those Types who will completely deny the actual canon people of color that exist as being people of color, like in dorne and essos, while insisting that the little green people are the only "true" indigenous or "of color" representation in the series

will completely ignore the very real way dany is stomping her way through essos on a rationalization that is very similar to a lot of the rationalizations people have used when it comes to colonization and imperialism like ~saving the savages from themselves~ and dany's very unkind and superior feelings about the cultures she is ruling over goes hand in hand with that

i cannot stress this enough but the us government, the canadian government, the spanish, the british, the french, and every single other group you can name that came to the americas did not honor their treaties with the natives. even in places like greenland, where genocide became not possible simply bc of how hard it is to live in greenland so it is the only nation in the americas that has a majority indigenous population, treaties were broken as inuit language, culture, and history was suppressed by Denmark. Do you know what the first men did? they honored their treaties. they stopped cutting down weirwoods and they stopped warring with the cotf, and (as far as we know - i am not opposed to bran finding out more context here that makes the first men look bad tbc!) kept those promises until the andals showed up and chased the first men north. with the information we have about the cotf and the first men - even if you include the idea that the cotf invented the others as a way to stop the fighting with the first men and force a pact - i think it is ludicrous and also, insulting to me as an Indigenous person, to say that these things are similar when the entire reason I live in Chicago and not on Menominee land is because the us government broke every treaty they made with us!

i think it's so funny that in their quest to scream at everyone who reads the First Men as some sort of Indigenous group they wind up regurgitating the exact sort of anti-Northern fantasy racism that Northerners experience in the books. Truly, truly, life imitates art.

Obviously I think everyone throws colonizer and imperialist around way too much which is why I've mostly stopped doing it. But I think something everyone really forgets when getting defensive about the valyrian and targaryen critiques is that like. it's about the extractive relationship between the valyrians/targaryens and the people they conquer, the imbalance of technology which allows for further destruction, the superiority complex (and westerosi people aren't above this, i mean when you look at how absolutely superior they act compared to the essosi, there's a pretty clear western view being explored and critiqued through all of them, not just the targaryens and valyria) and expansionist behavior, and the diffusion of ideological, religious, and political beliefs. like, it's the dragons. it's the incest. and especially imo people will talk about the roman inspiration for valyria and then conveniently ignore that one of the first genocides ever committed was by rome against carthage - and another important note here (to me) is that carthage existed in what is now modern day tunisia, which is part of north africa aka one of regions that dorne is inspired by. there's a reason dorne is is so nervous about the dragons during the conquests and when you look at the carnage of the dragon's wroth and daeron's war and doran's comment that dornish population never recovered from that, i do in fact think we are meant to draw some parallels between the way rome conquered and destroyed their enemies and the way dorne is treated by both the targaryens and the rest of Westeros.

But again, I've pulled back on that a lot, I think this topic is very complex and I also think the one-to-one parallels can be confusing. I think you can, for example, compare a lot of Scottish Independence stuff with Northern Independence, and just like in the real world, that is a fraught and complex topic. There's, firstly, a real gap when it comes to the treatment of lowland Scots and highland Scots, not to mention the far ranging issues when it comes to the assimilation of upper class Scottish peoples into British society at the expense of highlanders, the religious wars that exist all over that area, the fact that Scottish people experienced both a repression of their culture at home but also perpetuated the repression of Indigenous cultures in the Americas and were in fact intimately involved as some of the first settler-colonists in what is now known as North America. I think this tracks really well with the Starks and the Northerners in general, as both perpetrators of politically motivated violence towards the wildlings and victims of it from their southern neighbors, and in fact I would argue this happens frequently throughout history, that A People will act as both perpetrator and victim, because no people are a monolith. But like, trying to get this across when a) i feel like i'm just stupid and too goofy and b) there's clearly people who don't want to listen they just want to say "WELL ACTUALLY YOUR FAVORITE HOUSE IS A COLONIZER HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT" as if this is a stan war and not me trying to have an actual in depth conversation about the way the various cultures in this series interact with each other.

And finally - I have in fact seen people get Real Weird about the wildlings (similar to point 4, people will be like "these are a savage people" just kind of uncritically regurgitating the shit bowen marsh is saying about the wildlings despite the fact that we get an entire book where jon is learning that no, actually, these aren't just mindless savages but a society with its own rules, its own culture, that is very similar to his own and just happened to be very unlucky in where they were born) but like, the northerners being weird and fantasy racist (ethnist? can it be called xenophobia in this case, initially i felt that was imprecise but i think maybe that's the correct word here) towards the wildlings does not negate the fact that valyria colonized like 80% of the known world, that the targaryens are weird and fantasy racist towards dorne, and that dany herself is deeply weird and racist towards the dothraki, lhazareen, and ghiscari. two things can be true at once!

#asks #dollarstoregarfield #that 'well the northerners are described as ugly savages so they can't be indigenous' take is jsut wild to me #i don't understand how u say that with a straight face

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najia-cooks · 6 months ago

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Sopa de mora salvadoreña (Salvadoran black nightshade soup)

American black nightshade (Solanum americanum)—not to be confused with bittersweet nightshade (Solanum dulcamara) or deadly nightshade (Atropa belladonna)—is a widespread flowering plant in the genus Solanum which grows throughout central America and Mexico, and into the northeastern United States. The genus Solanum, within the nightshade family Solanaceae, also includes tomatoes, potatoes, and eggplants.

The ripe berries of this plant, perhaps unsurprisingly, taste something like a very small tomato—but this dish concerns the plant's leaves. Sopa de mora is an earthy, savory, slightly spicy soup eaten in the countryside of El Salvador. It is made from the leaves of hierba mora, or black nightshade, in addition to squash, potato, chili, and sometimes chicken; a beaten egg or two may also be added and cooked, without stirring, directly in the soup.

A similar soup, made from black nightshade and broken pasta, is eaten in Guatemala under the name "caldo de quilete," "sopa de quilete," or "sopa de macuy." "Macuy" presumably derives from the word "majk'u'y", from Kaqchikel: a language in the Maya family spoken in central Guatemala.

Recipe under the cut!

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Note that, despite the fact that black nightshade leaves are eaten all throughout the plant's native range, they contain varying amounts of toxic compounds including Solanine, and should be eaten in moderation. Avoid unripe (green) berries, and do not eat leaves raw. Some people advise pre-boiling the leaves and discarding the boiling water to remove toxins.

Ingredients:

Large bunch of American black nightshade (Solanum americanum), Eastern black nightshade (Solanum ptychanthum), or European black nightshade (Solanum nigrum) leaves, washed and chopped

1/2 white onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, chopped

1 tomato, diced

1 jalapeño, sliced

1 small russet potato, diced

1 chayote fruit (güisquil), diced (optional)

1 small carrot, sliced (optional)

Water or vegetable stock

I used water, and found that the vegetables and leaves gave the soup plenty of flavor; but it's not unusual to use vegetable or chicken stock.

Instructions:

Sauté onion and garlic on medium in a large stockpot until onions are softened and translucent.

Add garlic and sauté until light golden brown.

Add tomato and salt and sauté until softened and nearly dry.

Add remaining ingredients, plus water to cover. Boil until vegetables and leaves are softened, 15-20 minutes. Taste and adjust salt.

Identifying American black nightshade

These are quick notes rather than a complete guide. Don't forage unless you know what you're doing!

Leaves are alternate; ovate or lanceolate; with entire to undulate to blunty dentate margins. Flowers are about 1cm in diameter; white to light purple; with yellow stamens. Berries are green when unripe, and glossy and black when ripe. They grow in clusters. Calyxes are smaller than the berries, and curl away from them. Ripe berries, unripe berries, and flowers often appear on the same branch.

Avoid the green, unripe berries, which are toxic.

Lookalikes

Bittersweet nightshade (Solanum dulcamara) is poisonous. It has berries that are green when unripe, and bright red when ripe. Black nightshade has berries that are green when unripe, and black when ripe.

Deadly nightshade (Atropa belladonna) is poisonous. It has a calyx extending far beyond the berry, and the berries grow singly. Black nightshade has a calyx smaller than the berry, and its berries grow in clusters.

Eastern black nightshade (Solanum ptychanthum) is also in the Solanum nigrum complex and is sometimes considered synonymous with American black nightshade. It is edible, and may also be used in this recipe. Leaves are alternate; ovate or lanceolate. Leaf margins have 2-5 blunt teeth at the base, but become smooth and pointed at the tip. The base is rounded or cuneate (wedge-shaped). Petioles are winged with extensions of the leaf blade.

Flowers are about 1cm in diameter; white to light purple; with yellow stamens. Berries are green when unripe, and glossy and black when ripe; and grow in clusters.

#foraged #Salvadoran #soups #potato #tomato #black nightshade #chayote

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breyito · 9 months ago

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Fear your sins, not your monsters: Part One: Severance

For @painlandweek Day 1: Language of Love: Acts of service (because killing a b*tch and plunging into obscurity to rescue your other half counts); and Sickfic (because Charles is not having a good time, poor boy).

You can read it here on AO3:

Part 2 Part 3 Chapters: 1/4 Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Relationships: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Crystal Palace Characters: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland (DCU) Additional Tags: Protective Edwin Paine | Edwin PayneUnhinged Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Violence, Torture, Hurt Charles Rowland (DCU), Sickfic, love language: acts of service, painlandweek, BAMF Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:

“Crystal, you've seen him without me. You have never seen me without him.”

When Charles is taken by a powerful and mysterious entity, already hurt from protecting Edwin; Edwin loses his mind. He will stop at nothing to get his partner, the love of his life, back.

It's not like it's the first time he's had to do it. (He honestly thought that at least the European supernatural community had learnt their lesson about taking Charles away from him. It seems like a reminder is due.)

Part One: Severance

As soon as Charles was dragged through the glass’ surface with a cutoff scream and every mirror in the room shattered, Edwin felt his non-existent heart stop. Not again, not again, he thought, as he shifted throughout the shards for any kind of response to his magic. Nothing. Completely inert.

Ignoring Crystal’s sputtering questions, he ran outside the church to check the surrounding grounds. The day had already been gloomy, and now the dim grey light gave a sinister feeling to the whole place. The graveyard in which the old church was located did not help matters.

He checked every metre of the place, hoping, hoping, hoping that Charles had just been transported somewhere near. (His brain tried to tell him that, logically, Charles could only have gone to another mirror or reflective surface, and all the mirrors inside the building were broken and there was no body of water on the property. For once, Edwin ignored his brain with all his might).

He even cleaned the decades of filth from windows on the outside, because maybe then they’d be reflective enough that Charles could come back. But everything was useless, he was gone. He was gone, he was gone, Charles was gONE.

Ghosts didn’t have hearts that beat nor did their lungs need air, but Edwin kept taking more and more air in and he still couldn’t breathe. He was choking. He tugged desperately at his bowtie, finally opening it along with his shirt. His hands came away wet from his neck, and that’s when he realised that he was crying.

That last loss of control pushed him over the edge and he crashed to his knees on the leaf covered dirt. He pressed his muddied palms to his eye sockets and pressed until he saw colours burst behind his eyelids.

He needed to think. He had to use his brain. He had to come up with something. He was so useless, so stupid. Why couldn’t he fucking think?

Edwin began hitting his forehead with his hands, because his brain wasn’t working and he needed the panic to stop so he could think. Thud-thud-thud. Sob. Thudthudthudthudthudthud. Stupid, stupid, stupid-!

“Edwin! Edwin, stop!” That was Crystal. She was kneeling next to him, trying to tug his hands away from his face.

“H-he’s gone.” Edwin cried. He began grabbing and tugging at his hair, then digging his nails on the skin, leaving streaks of dirt to mix with the tears and drops of blood. “Charles’ gone, Crystal. I ca-can’t find him. I’ve looked everywhere!”

He curled into a little shivering ball, face between his knees and arms around his head, as he rocked back and forth. Still, Crystal could hear his heartbreaking sobs and had to sniff not to burst out crying too.

“Hey.” she said. Edwin didn’t seem to notice. “Hey!” She yelled, grabbing his shoulders and making him look at her. “Stop. He’s not gone-gone, alright? We can still find him. He’s counting on us.” Those green eyes kept spilling tears, but at least she could hear him taking in more air than before. “Breathe with me, Ed, okay? C’mon.”

A few minutes later, Edwin was still shaking, but seemed more in control. He was trying to wipe off the dirt on his hands, at least, and his hair was slowly returning to its regular state. Finally, he took one last big breath in.

“Right.” he said, as he smoothed down his coat. “That’s enough of that.”

In a blink, the boy in front of her was back in his immaculate uniform. Crystal didn’t know why, but she felt a shiver go down her spine as she looked at him. The only difference from his usual spotless image is Charles’ bag-of-tricks, which he had retrieved from inside the decrepit church. He had a death grip on it, so she knew he wouldn't accept her carrying it.

“We need to get back to the office, right? To figure out who took him?” she said more than asked, as they began walking towards the gates of the cemetery.

“Yes, that is indeed the first step.”

“Do you wanna go ahead and I’ll meet you there?” Crystal didn’t particularly feel like riding the bus on her own back to the city, even more so when the skies were beginning to darken; but she figured she had to offer, at least.

“That won’t be necessary.” he answered, retrieving a pair of glasses from his coat pocket.

“Really?” she asked, surprised.

“Charles would never forgive me if something happened to you because I was careless of your safety. We can begin the investigation with my notes and some of the books inside Charles’ bag.” He cleaned the lenses of the spectacles, and put them on, “I’ll join you as a passenger, since it’s safer to travel in numbers at night.” ended the elegant lady in the dark blue pantsuit. Not a minute too soon, as the turn at the end of the road led directly to the bus stop, and there were people already boarding their vehicle.

“I thought there was the possibility of losing an arm to the bag?” she questioned, suspicious, as she paid for their tickets.

“As you can imagine, there’s an infinite number of levels. It’s true that Charles is the only one that can (mostly) navigate all of them safely; but I’ve had to learn too, for instances such as these. He usually leaves my books on Levels Three or Four, since I can reach those without much strain in an emergency, if he’s…not around.”

They choose to sit on the back, as to spread the books in the seats between them.

“Let’s get you started with Reflection Manipulation for the Souls” Crystal nodded as she accepted the book. “It might be useful to shed light on what creature could affect the mirrors and glasses in such a way.”

“And you?” she asked.

“I’ll search for a location spell. They don’t ordinarily work on ghosts, as we don’t have an actual physical presence.” As his hands began leafing through the book, she caught a glint of gold on his wrist. It felt familiar. Charles’ necklace. “It’s only a remote possibility, but I’d like to focus on that until we are safely back in the office.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you found his necklace!?” at the looks her loud tone of voice got, she got close enough to whisper. “I could have read that!”

“I doubt you could get anything substantial out of it, Crystal.”

“Why not?” she said back, before touching the metal and tapping into her powers.

She went still as her eyes clouded over. Edwin cursed under his breath as he waited for her. He smiled nervously at the man gawking at them, probably at ‘her’ vocabulary. (He rather thought this was one instance in which he could curse as much as he wanted and not feel any shame, in fact.)

“Fuck.” Crystal gave a full body shiver as she came back. “All I could feel was…cold. Wet, cold, dark…there was no end to it.” she murmured, tearing up a bit. “Do you think…?” Edwin cleared his throat.

“Let’s hope your reading was about his death and not his current predicament. He hates being cold.”

Both of them swallowed, thinking about the cheerful boy they loved plunged into an icy darkness by unfeeling hands. Without saying another word, they returned to their respective books, noting down anything that seemed useful. (Edwin didn’t even lecture Crystal for marking down the pages of the book. But then again, that edition wasn’t as old and therefore as delicate. Or so the ghost told himself, when he noticed and ignored it.)

—-- —-- —--

Many hours later, with dawn already about to rise, Edwin finally found what he needed. Crystal had fallen asleep a few hours ago, after compiling a list of possible beings that could have done such strong magic. To their dismay, witches had been at the top of the list, of course. Bloody witches. While Crystal cursed herself (and the universe) to sleep, the boy ghost kept going.

After revising every note he had taken for their latest case, and all the spells available to him; he’d reached the point where he had to admit he was not able to trace Charles. Even those incantations that should have worked didn’t. He felt he was at his wit's end.

So he took advantage of the relative solitude to look over their most obscure volumes. Those he and Charles had decided the living girl didn’t need to know about unless it was necessary, for the danger they represented. (Those texts resided inside a designated shelf, and were protected by powerful enchantments. Crystal knew not to touch them, but not much else.)

Danger was meaningless to Edwin now, though, without Charles by his side.

As he surveyed the contents, he felt in his core this magic was going to work for him. He may not be able to locate Charles, not even with this new magic…

But he could trace their latest ‘client’, the one that had led them to the old church, fought them and then vanished.

This man had a lot to answer for. And he would.

—-- —-- —--

Half a world (or just half a city, Charles certainly would not know) away, the other boy ghost broke the surface of freezing water, gasping. He dragged himself to the rocky shore, teeth clashing. The bloody witch’s magic had taken almost every single layer he had had on, leaving him only in his sodden jeans.

Never, not even while being attacked and then dying, had he felt more vulnerable. Nor as cold. He had to give her props, tho. He had frozen to death, and she had managed to beat that.

As he tried to prepare himself for another few hours in her dungeon, where he would be able to clothe himself and warm up only to be plunged back into the cold darkness, he wondered…

Was this what Edwin had felt, once he accepted the never ending cycle of his torture? This helplessness?

(Deep inside, he knew the answer was not. Because Edwin had escaped Hell on his own, with no one on his corner. He was the strongest person Charles knew. So he had to be strong now and not give up, because he knew Edwin and Crystal were out there, looking for him. He had no doubt.

(But it was so hard. So hard).)

#fear your sins not your monsters #painland week #dead boy detectives #dbda #painlandweek #payneland #edwin payne #charles rowland #fanfic #art #moodboard #day 1

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lovethetasteofnothing · 2 years ago

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You have a thing for accents, they find out/ you have an accent - TF 141, Los Vaqueros + Farah + Valeria + Alex

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙

includes: captain price, simon "ghost" riley, kyle "gaz" garrick, johnny "soap" mactavish, kate laswell, farah karim, alex keller, alejandro vargas, rodolfo "rudy" parra, valeria garza (everyone getting fed today; yes the boys get their smutty content too)

gn!reader, except for laswell x fem!reader (she's a lesbian, argue w the wall), fem terms of endearment

warnings: nsfw content, dirty talk (like a lot), degradation kink, praise kink (yes, you get both) reader has a tendecy to repeat words they like the sound of (pretty much copies the way they say it bc it sounds nice), multiple themes idk what i'm talking about atp

word count: 2.5k+, aprox. 250 words/ character

enjoy <3

Captain John Price

he doesn't notice it at first, he just thinks you're smiling because his dad jokes are good

you say he sounds like a regular British dad at a football match (yes, football, I'm European too)

it makes his day because if he hadn't joined the military he would have probably been one by now

you call him Bravo 0-6 sometimes, you say it in his accent because why wouldn't you

repeating his favorite phrases from missions that he brags about because you think it's cute

insert cute Price smiley face here when he hears you(bc i love it so much)

you asked him for wa-ah once, he still isn't over it

you call him a lad/old man if his accent becomes really prominent

but you can't help the way his words make your heart race and the way he says them...

your underwear is sopping wet, your honor!

you freeze up and blush when he pulls off the filthiest sentence in a British accent

when he starts talking dirty during sex you can't help but moan louder/twitch/squeeze around him

that's when he figures it out

it kind of just connects in his brain and he uses it to his advantage

"look at the way you're taking me so good, princess"

will not let you live, constantly teases you about it

he'd call you 'princess' and 'duckling'

you quack at him if you're reallly feeling silly

recorded you doing it once, his favorite video of you by far

Simon "Ghost" Riley

you call him posh just to annoy him

gives you the hardest side eye of your entire life and you take it back

you tell him the Queen died and he doesn't have to keep the act up when he really pushes it (he calls you a tosser)

insert one of his dad jokes in here

you only laugh because you love him and your humor is broken

probably uses 'bloody' on the regular; calls you 'luv' and 'pet" 100%

like that man could just pull out a "What in the bloody hell did you just do, pet?" and you'd turn back time to make him happy

calls you his princess. emphasis on 'his" because it's never missing

definitely also the type of person to just copy whatever you said if he likes the way it sounds

when you're arguing, you just copy the phrases he said as arguments

good that the mask hides his smile or he'd always lose

loves the fact that you use terms of endearment in your native language for him (for my multilingual babes)

struggles to learn your native language but still tries

listens in on your conversations just so he can learn it better

upset when he can't learn bc his job doesn't give him enough time

turns into a big softie if you scold him in it

you record phone calls and save voice notes so you can listen to them while he's gone on missions

just the sound of his voice is so hot comforting

dirty talker supreme! i feel like he'd praise you more but there's a hint of degradation

just like a sparkle and he'd ask you five times beforehand if it's okay with you

you can't help it when your brain goes blank, the sound of his voice filling up every single corner of your mind (his dick does the same)

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

you also call him posh

actually pulls out a posh accent to egg you on

you're both laughing so hard by the end of it

pulls out the most British of British sentences and leaves you shocked because the only word you understood was 'and'

clap because that's impressive

loves your accent if you have one

makes you say a word three times because he's fucking head over heels for the way your voice sounds

dirty talk champ!

but only when he feels like it

makes you beg for him to do it because he thinks you look cute on your knees so pouty

"my love, look at you getting all wet just from the sound of my voice. isn't that cute?"

his laugh!!

makes you laugh too even if nothing is funny

sends you long voice notes with how his day went or cuddles you on the couch while doing it

and you just sit and nod while listening, not saying a word

not because you're bored but because you love listening to the way he emphasizes certain words

type of boyfriend to send you a podcast of a debrief of his activities

he does it while coming back from missions even though his voice is so tired

and it just makes your heart skip a beat because it tingles your brain in the right spot

groggy morning voice, his accent all over the place, stumbling over his words because he got home late last night and barely slept

mumbles incoherent compliments? confessions? before you kiss him and make him get more rest

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

literally pulls out the most Scottish sentence out of his ass

and you fold for some reason???

he's confused because he's used to Ghost telling him to speak English but you just nod along

you also ask him to translate because you don't understand

you pick up some of the phrases he likes to say and use them around your friends before you realize they won't understand

you try to decipher his accent sometimes

you either nod along even though you don't understand and hope you don't need the context

or you ask him to use less Scottish terminology/tone down his accent

you'd repeat certain phrases he says, out loud when doing random things

it melts his heart

he'd say the funniest joke ever and laugh at it for 10 minutes before realizing you didn't understand him

he explains it, you laugh because you don't want to hurt his feelings (it was a dad joke)

giggled a little the first time he talked dirty, you were flustered already and couldn't hold it back

you make him send you voice notes/ call you when you're masturbating now

his fucking pleasure tbh, has to hide from his team so they don't hear him spewing the filthiest shit known to man

someone caught him once, he said he was talking to his mom

Gaz is now confused as to why he would use 'cunt' in a conversation with his mom

starts saying his Scottish lover's speech and you mumble parts of it because you already know it by heart

you actually start saying it with him at some point

Kate Laswell

really concerned? but also not surprised that you have an accent/voice kink

like wdym call you 'her angel' again because you need to hear the way she says it

pulls out American mom slang on you

you call her mommy as a joke, it wasn't a joke

she catches on because it's not the first time you did it but doesn't say anything about it

understands people with heavy accents like almost perfectly

"i have to"

would pick up little words in your native language

you would also pick up her mom monologue

so when soap does something dumb and you start scolding him like Laswell would you're a little shocked

she'd be somewhere nearby and hear you, little proud smile on her lips

you have to explain whatever slang you're using to her

finally understands what gaz and soap say afterwards

i dont think she'd be big on dirty talk

so when it slips out once, you stare at her in confusion before processing her words

you beg her to do it more often

literally sitting on her lap while she does her paperwork (surprising that she even let you do that)

and you whisper sweet nothings in her ear, trying to convince her to take a break and relax

"come on, hun, you know I can't do that. people depend on me" in that cute concerned tone of hers <3 <3

pulls out the filthiest flirting tactics known to man when a little drunk

"how about you sit there and look pretty for me?" and you do

she pulls you in her car and fingers you until you're screaming while whispering about how cute you sound

it changes your brain chemistry

Farah Karim

disappointed but not surprised

she feeds into your kink thing just because she can

catches you staring in awe when she speaks in Arabic, finds it adorable

lowkey find the way she talks mesmerizing

like you can listen to her voice and watch the way she gesticulates for hours on end

has that leader/public speaker charisma to her that gets you hooked

barks orders at you because she forgets she's not on mission

apologizes immediately because you're her baby and she feels bad about it

also scolds you in Arabic before translating

bilingual queen chastises you in two languages because you did something dumb

but you die inside whenever she praises you

"my good girl, you did well" like yes ma'am, yes you did and you'll do it again if it means you can hear those words coming out of her mouth again

tries to do dirty talk but fails miserably (her face is too serious istg)

makes you un-horny not because it's that bad but because you're laughing so hard for like 10 minutes, you have to comfort her afterwards bc she's sulking not amused

you just weren't used to it

asks Alex for tips on how to improve (she's really sacrificing her dignity for you)

decided to use her new skills when you were close to climaxing because you'd probably be too dazed to care at that point

you weren't, you still remember her words to this day

you play back every single filthy thing she ever said when you masturbate

Alex Keller

our American boy™

you make him do the college bro accent

you both end up laughing on the floor because you joined in and made it funnier

pure chaos ensues

if you have an accent he'd look at you with the most lovestruck eyes

literally grinning ear to ear if you speak in your native language, this man is the biggest simp known to exist

wants to hear jokes in your native language even though they make no sense when translated

he can mimick some British slang/ can say some words in a British accent

you tell him to stick to his American English because he's hurting your ears

you mimick him lovingly when he uses really American phrases/ his accent becomes really white boy™ from the USA

he flirts in frat boy sometimes but it's Alex so you find it cute

another dirty talk champ!

like his voice is so smooth and soothing while he says it. his face is just unbothered, maybe a little smirk under his mustache

"such a sweet angel, already soaking for my dick, hm?"

insert ocean cosplay here

I feel like he'd mimick Siri and be on point

also reads you books while you try to sleep, his voice really does wonders whenever you have insomia

you make him record himself reading so you can listen to it on repeat while he's on duty

Valeria Garza

she figures it out in the first week of dating you

you still don't understand how she did it, you weren't that obvious

she said Chicago once (literally went feral over cartel mommy)

it plays on loop in your mind at random times and you have to ask her to say it again so it stops, she refuses sometimes just to see you suffer

you also copy her facial expressions and her gestures when you repeat something she says

lowkey impressed by how spot on you are, thinks of ways to use it for her own benefit

teaches you Spanish!!! she'd do it herself and give you hw while she's gone on business trips

she'd bend you over her lap and spank you for every question you got wrong

speaks whole dialogues with you in Spanish just to encourage you to learn, would not translate if you didn't understand (her lap looking hella empty rn)

so happy when you can finally understand most of her sentences but doesn't show it, just praises you

"Qué bonito... que bien ahí. Well done" (iykyk, I watch that scene religiously)

Spanglish all the way when she's fucking you

She'd just slide her strap in and degrade you

"Such a greedy slut for me. Aren't you, muñequita?" she wouldn't move until you confirmed it with words

"Eres una chica tan patética" (google translate pulls through until i actually learn Spanish)

she started arguing in Spanish with you at some point, you got wet

she had to stop when she noticed you were looking at her like that

Alejandro Vargas

literally frat boy flirting archetype

but he's so nice and you can't help giggling when he calls you those cute nicknames in Spanish

you start calling him Vaquero because really look at him, tell me he wouldn't be a ranch hand if he weren't in the military

spews out the most toe curling, smutty sentences in Spanish because he knows you don't understand

literally only does it so he can see your cute confused face

would also teach you Spanish

had a period of time when he would refuse to use English with you because you needed to learn

he stopped when you cried in frustration (literally lasted 3 hours)

big simp if you have an accent

just smiles while you talk and when you ask him why he just shrugs

learns random cute phrases in your first language and says them while you least expect it

you had to stop for a second and take it in before blushing

you sometimes share one singular multilingual braincell

when neither of you can remember the word in English or in any other language

the toaster is now officially the bread torch

figures out you have a thing for accents when you keep talking about how nice he sounds while speaking Spanish

it's being used against you

"Eres un cachorro tan guarro~

makes fun of you because you listen to his voice notes on repeat sometimes

he caught you doing it once and now he brings it up biweekly

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

my fav vaquero (sorry Alejandro) bc he's just so sweet

literally praises everything you do, bonus points if it's in Spanish

makes your heart beat so fast

if you get mad he'd wrap his arms around you while trying to calm you down

"Calma, bebé. Take it easy"

and it works? like the moment you hear his voice and his gentle words you're calm again

there's something tranquil about the way he says stuff

mostly uses Spanish right after waking up

gruffy voice + him whispering sweet nothings in your ear

and you understand most of it because he took his sweet time to teach you

corrects you in the sweetest way possible

so happy when you learned how to roll your Rs

begs you to say it again because it makes his heart flutter

soft dom who loves to praise you even if you're being a brat

"Ah mi princesita, you're being so cute right now. " while he's pinning you down and pressing kisses to your whole body

literally kills you with kindness

like you're really going to be a brat after he calls you all those sweet names???

literally giggling and moaning at the same time because you're flustered

like this man is really telling you he loves you while he's balls deep in you

struggles to learn your native language

powers through tho

stumbles on his words and you help him out (that cute boy smile on his face when he gets it right)

rarely yells but when he does...

he got mad at someone over the phone and you overheard him

changes your brain structure

and then he picks you up to complain about it, his annoyed voice literally fueling scenarios to your brain

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whencyclopedia · 3 months ago

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Timeline & Battles of King Philip's War

King Philip's War (1675-1678) was the pivotal engagement between the second generation of English immigrants who had arrived in New England and the Native American tribes of the region. The English won the war, and the natives lost not only their land but, in many cases, also their language and culture, at least for a time.

The policies of both sides were informed by earlier Anglo-Native conflicts including the Indian Massacre of 1622 which resulted in 347 English colonists killed by the tribes of the Powhatan Confederacy in Virginia, the later Third Powhatan War (1644-1646) which killed over 500 colonists in the same region, and the Pequot War (1636-1638) during which the Pequot tribe sought to enlist the Narragansett in the same sort of operation against the English.

The conflict was begun by Metacom (also known as King Philip and Metacomet, l. 1638-1676), chief of the Wampanoag Confederacy, in response to the policies of Plymouth governor Josiah Winslow (l. c. 1628-1680), which encouraged colonial expansion into Native American territory, and colonial usurpation of Native American rights concerning justice. Metacom's father, Massasoit (l. c. 1581-1661), had signed the Pilgrim-Wampanoag Peace Treaty with the first governor of Plymouth Colony, John Carver (l. 1584-1621), on 22 March 1621 which promised mutual aid and protection as well as the right of each party to punish their own for crimes. When the colonists hanged three high-level Wampanoags for murder in June of 1675, Metacom, tired of English lies, broken promises, and land theft, launched his first offensive.

The war devastated the region, destroying English and Native American settlements equally, costing thousands of lives, disrupting trade, and destroying crops. When the English finally could declare victory in 1678, the political, social, and demographic make-up of New England was completely changed. After Metacom was killed in 1676, the Native American initiative flagged and after 1678 those natives who had fought for Metacom's cause – as well as many who did not – were sold into slavery, deported, pushed onto reservations, or absorbed into other tribes. The war was hailed as a great victory for 'God’s People' against the 'heathen' but, actually, it was the inevitable result of English greed and Native American naivete and lack of unity.

Causes of the War

The causes of the war go back to the founding of Plymouth Colony in November 1620. The passengers of the Mayflower found the village of Pawtuxet abandoned - because the inhabitants had all died of European-borne diseases carried by traders c. 1610 - and settled there without ever compensating the tribes of the Wampanoag Confederacy who still used the land. This same model was observed with the establishment of Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1628 and again in 1630. Roger Williams (l. 1603-1683), an English theologian who lived at both Plymouth and Massachusetts Bay, criticized this policy c. 1633, noting that King James I of England had no right to claim foreign lands already inhabited and his subjects had even less right to settle those lands without compensating the owners fairly.

Williams was exiled from Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1636 for his religious views which differed from those of the magistrates, but his arguments concerning land rights of Native Americans certainly did nothing to endear him to the authorities. The colonists continued to take land from the natives, sometimes by way of what they saw as legitimate transactions and sometimes by outright theft. The natives did not fence in their territories because they did not believe they owned the land. In the same way, transactions of valuables for land were understood by the natives as gratuities for use of the land, not as a sale.

The immediate cause of the war was the death of the Wampanoag chief Wamsutta (l. c. 1634-1662) who was succeeded by his younger brother Metacom (King Philip), and the hanging of three Wampanoags, all high-level counselors to Metacom, by the colonists. Wamsutta had died shortly after returning from a meeting with Josiah Winslow at Plymouth, and Metacom claimed he had been poisoned. His claim was most likely true because Winslow had no regard for the natives and saw them as obstacles to progress that should be removed. Even though Metacom did not move against the colonists at this time, Wamsutta's death seems to mark a cooling of relations between the natives and the English.

Between Wamsutta's death in 1662 and the outbreak of hostilities in 1675, the colonists took more land in breach of the Pilgrim-Wampanoag Peace Treaty of 1621. The colonists had been welcomed to the land they had already claimed by the coast, but, increasingly, they were settling further and further inland. Metacom had repeatedly tried to negotiate with both Plymouth and Massachusetts Bay to stop expansion, but the English promises were never kept as they would have hampered profitable land deals made by men like Winslow.

Metacom began discussing an attack on the colonies with chiefs of his tributary tribes and others and news of this was brought to the colonists by one John Sossamon who overheard the talks. Sossamon was a former counselor and interpreter of Metacom's who had left to live with the English. He was a so-called 'praying Indian' – one who had converted to Christianity, learned English, and adopted English culture and dress. The praying Indian often served as interpreter in land deals and negotiations and so passed relatively freely between native and English villages. Sossamon’s report resulted in a call from the colonists for Metacom to explain himself - which he did, denying the truth of Sossamon’s account - but only after Sossamon was found dead.

Two months later, although many people had been interrogated and none had any information on the murder, eyewitnesses were suddenly produced by Winslow, and three Wampanoags were charged with Sossamon's murder. On 8 June 1675, these men were hanged by the English in direct breach of the 1621 treaty which made clear that each party would be responsible for punishing their own. Three days after the hanging, the Wampanoags were arming themselves outside Swansea Colony, and the first attack was launched against Swansea on 24 June 1675, starting the war.

#History #1678 #Boston #Christian #WHE #[#]

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jokeroutsubs · 1 year ago

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ENG translation: "We are advocates of the fact that it is possible to create in our language"

An interview with Bojan Cvjetićanin and Kris Guštin in Slovenian magazine Reporter Magazin, originally published December 2023

Original article written by Katarina Keček for Reporter Magazin; photos by Primož Lavre and Urša Premik; English translation by @kurooscoffee and another Joker Out Subs member, proofread by IG GBoleyn123.

Also available in audio version on Spotify, read by IG GBoleyn123:

If you repost quotes from the interview, please link back to this post!

After a fantastic recent concert season with the currently most popular Slovenian music group Joker Out, who have already broken all boundaries at home, the boys are now ready to conquer the world's music stages. European first, said the band's two members, guitarist Kris Guštin and singer Bojan Cvjetićanin, modestly, when we met in their rehearsal room, "Then we'll think ahead." A few days after our conversation, Joker Out embarked on a new tour, which will include 13 European countries, including France, Belgium and Italy. Among others, they will be playing at some of the world's most iconic venues, such as the O2 Shepherd's Bush Empire in London and the Academy 2 in Manchester. A musical success that has no comparison here.

I'm sure you have given hundreds of interviews over the years? How do you cope with them?

Kris: If the questions are good, the interview is also good.

Bojan: During Eurovision we had about 40 interviews a day. Let's say two of them were a little different in terms of questions.

What kind of questions don't you like?

Both: Where did our name come from? When was the band formed? The kind of thing that everybody can find on Google.

Eurovision was a big breakthrough for you abroad, but you also said that you would not do a competition like that again.

Kris: We didn't say that.

Bojan: We have another one in January. We're playing at a festival in the Netherlands, it's a kind of show where you present yourself. It's a competition in a sense, but it's not very specific like Eurovision.

But these music competitions can't be real competitions. They are about the taste of the listener, just as art is about the taste of the observer. How are you going to evaluate a quality, a song?

Bojan: Eurovision is a really interesting experience and has a very specific concept. It's a three-minute spectacle contest, there are tangible standards, but on the other hand there are not. This spectacle may be different from what any of us would think of as "spectacle", let's say a lot of fire, explosions, and fireworks, but if the story is properly told in the flood of all these fires and explosions, just one deep silence can make the performance spectacular. For us, the competition was more about whether or not we would make that breakthrough. A contest against ourselves.

When you were at Eurovision, did you have in mind the country you were representing, or did you, first and foremost, see yourself in this contest? As an opportunity for the group to present itself?

Bojan: It was absolutely important for us to sing in Slovenian at this festival because we are advocates and representatives of the fact that it is possible to create in our language and that it is right to create in our language. It's right to speak it and it's right for the language to develop. The younger generations of Slovenians are also gaining an appreciation for the Slovenian language and an understanding of what it can be used for. The aim was to show ourselves. In the end, it is true that a country wins, let's say Sweden won, or Finland won, but the most important thing for us was that when someone says, "Do you remember Slovenia in 2023?" that it will be a positive image and a positive memory. We managed to do that, which is a big enough victory as far as we are concerned. At the same time, we did everything we could to represent ourselves and Slovenia in the best possible way.

Despite all this, we welcomed you home with great joy, we did not blame you for your result in the competition, because we saw that you gave your all.

Bojan: I was honestly happy to see the positive reaction, even though objectively speaking we had a pretty poor placement.

Kris: After a long time, us Eurovision performers also had the same kind of support of the nation at home that our athletes have.

It's interesting that you hold on to the Slovenian language so lovingly and don't give in to the prejudices that claim that Slovenian is not a poetic and melodic language. You write songs in various languages, but mostly in Slovenian.

Bojan: For me, it is most natural to write songs in Slovenian. My thought process, during my subconscious existence, is in the Slovenian language.

Your parents are not of Slovenian nationality, they both came from Bosnia during the war in 1991, with the last Unprofor convoy. Kris's mother is also Dutch, and you both love the Slovenian language.

Kris: My mother moved to Slovenia before Slovenia joined the EU and, as she explained to me, it was very difficult for her at that time too. All the bureaucratic stuff dragged on, just like it would for someone who came from Bosnia.

Bojan: I never had any problems with my parents being from Bosnia. I was at a school where there were quite a lot of children who had parents from the former Yugoslavia and we had no problems with that. I coped with the Slovenian language quite well from a very young age. However, this does not change the fact that the living conditions of many children at our school were of a lower standard. I don't know what was going on in their homes, because I know that for many it was not so rosy at home, but we children did not feel any revolt or hatred from our classmates at that time.

Your parents are both doctors, and they have made a new home in Slovenia. Do you still go to Bosnia?

Bojan: Yes, more and more often. I feel very Slovenian, I think and speak in this language, but on the other hand I am immensely proud of my roots and I also feel Bosnian, Serbian, at my core, and it seems to me that the fans from the former Yugoslav countries have now taken us very much as their own because of that.

You had very successful concerts in Zagreb and Belgrade. Interestingly, the visitors knew all your songs by heart, and what's more, they sang them with you in Slovenian. We haven't been used to that since the days of Lačni Franz* and Videoseks.*

*(The only two groups prior to Joker Out who succeeded in ex-Yugoslavia region enough to have the audience sing their songs in Slovenian)

Kris: Isn't it interesting that we find it bizarre that Serbs are singing in Slovenian, because before it was always the other way around?

Bojan: I also never understood before that Croatians or Serbs didn't understand us. As in, is the difference in languages really so big that you don't understand us? We can understand you. The fact is that Slovenians have been in contact with the Serbo-Croatian language in one way or another since we were very young, we all go to the seaside in Croatia, and we also listen to music from those parts en masse.

But the young people of your generation speak to the locals on the Croatian coast in English because they no longer understand their language.

Both: Yes, that's also true.

How come these Balkan languages don't cause you any problems?

Bojan: It's my mother tongue anyway, so I don't have any problems.

Kris: It seems very stupid to me that Slavs should communicate in Germanic languages. Even with the Czechs at Eurovision we communicated in both languages and it worked. It seems to me very inauthentic to speak English, but on the other hand I understand, because young people in Slovenia today are surrounded by English, maybe even more than Slovenian, and it is much more natural to them than to struggle in their own language or in a language that is supposed to be related to their own. It would be interesting if "interslavic" was introduced in all countries with Slavic languages as a second or third language. This is a mixture of all the Slavic languages, which is supposedly understood by all the members of the Slavic peoples. A language that is similar in its own way to all of us.

Esperanto, invented in the late 1980s as a counterbalance to the overuse of English, was a similar project. I do not know how many people still use it today.

Kris: Introducing a new language is not the easiest cultural process.

You have a big tour coming up, actually the first tour of European capitals.

Kris: Yes, first we're going to Skopje, then Munich, The Hague, Amsterdam, Madrid and Barcelona. On the 11th of December we're going back to Slovenia for a week, when we're planning to record some more in the studio, and then we're going to do concerts until the end of the year in Slovenia, in Celje, Maribor, Novo mesto and Ljubljana.

These tours must be exhausting. Every day travelling, buses, different cities, masses of people wanting something from you.

Kris: We have six concerts coming up now.

Bojan: We've just played nine concerts in fourteen days, we were in Lithuania, Poland, Czechia and Croatia.

Do fans in other countries remember you only from Eurovision or do they know your other songs as well?

Bojan: The most fascinating thing is that they have learned all the songs from the past too. We actually managed to break that barrier with just one song, but people learned two hours of material in another language. I don't know how many hours they had to devote to it, but they did.

Are you surprised by such enthusiasm? None of you could have planned this.

Kris: We went to Eurovision with this intention, so we can't say that we were completely surprised by the success. The ultimate goal all along was to make a breakthrough abroad. But we were absolutely surprised by the scope of the response. It could have been that Carpe Diem would have been very successful abroad, but the other songs would not have caught on. But we get to the concert and there is no feeling of waiting for this greatest hit, from the first minute people are "in it" and singing.

Bojan: If we sometimes dropped a song from our repertoire that we didn't want to play in Slovenia anymore, one of them being "Proti toku" because it was totally getting on our nerves, there were revolts on the internet and people were carrying banners at concerts saying "Play Proti toku!"

Kris: When we released New Wave with Elvis Costello, we thought that foreigners would prefer to listen to the song in English, but somehow everyone demanded it in Slovenian.

Bojan: They learned the Slovenian version and that's what they want.

I could say that you are kind of the pioneers of a new wave of Slovenian music, one for which Slovenia is obviously too small. None of the previous Slovenian Eurovision representatives have impressed Europe so much.

Bojan: I really don't remember us having any artist like that before. When Sestre went to Eurovision, they rode the wave at the time too, they were doing a lot of international shows too. I mean, it was a different concept, it was a project, but it still worked. Mostly because they actually had a vision, a plan and also a background behind them, there has to be some kind of support mechanism in the process. We didn't have performers in the sense of, okay, you showed up at Eurovision, now do a one-hour concert for me. Most of the performers couldn't do that because they didn't even have enough songs.

Kris: It's not only a problem in Slovenia, you find it everywhere, even among foreign artists. The Norwegian representative was fifth in Eurovision this year, she's very popular, but she only had one song on the market after the contest was over. Now she is going to release an album, but she hasn't had enough material so far.

Have you been preparing on your own to go abroad or do you maybe have some very professional agencies behind you to promote you and push you forward?

Bojan: With the people who are with us, we are our own management. We've never had someone above us who was our boss. We have always been our own bosses. We have our own people around us, but we have reached a level of performing in Slovenia that requires you to have a big team around you. We have about 30 people accompanying us on a regular basis, including the driver. When this success story happened, this breakthrough abroad, we were able to channel our system in a new direction, to at least somehow "patch up" the line up abroad for this year.

Do you cultivate a system of democracy in the band? How do you agree on certain things? By raising your hands?

Bojan: There hasn't been a need for that so far.

Kris: Usually the majority wins, within reasonable limits, of course.

Where do you find yourself more, live performances, making music, travelling, mingling with fans?

Kris: It really depends on the time period. It has to alternate. Solely playing infinite concerts is really fun for a while, but then it becomes tiring. The number of concerts we have played now is just about on the borderline for us to go back to the studio again for some time. On the other hand, spending infinite time in the studio isn't good either. During Covid, we were locked in for two years and we were just making music the entire time, and somewhere in there we kind of lost motivation. In the studio you also realise why you love the stage.

Are you tired after concerts, after a few hours of jumping around the stage?

Kris: The concert itself tires you out much less than the travelling. If you're lucky enough to be able to afford a private bus that takes you from concert to concert, then it's a lot easier. You get into it after the concert, fall asleep, and wake up in another city. The tour that is ahead of us, however, is made up entirely of flying, and that is the worst. Hotels, rushing, packing, taxis, airports, the atmosphere in airports is really unpleasant, no one is happy there, the hours drag on... that is the harder part. The concert itself doesn't tire me out that much. Most of all, we could play two concerts in a row if the atmosphere is right.

All that requires psychological and physical fitness as well. Do you practice any sports?

Kris: I used to be a more sporty person, I regularly played tennis, but ever since Eurovision, I can't find the right time to go back to something regular. I also used to play football recreationally every week, that's gone too. When on tour, I can only afford to run or to go to the hotel gym. But I haven't gotten to the point where I could make peace with that yet.

Bojan: I currently don't exercise at all. I used to train judo for a long time, but now, unfortunately, I haven't yet forced myself to go to the gym or go running when I have a free day. I'd like to start doing that, but I'm the type of person who needs a companion to pull me along and motivate me every day. I'm most drawn to football, martial arts, or extreme sports, but now I don't dare to do anything anymore because of injuries. Lately I've been going horse riding when I'm home. I find that horses calm me down.

Do you follow politics, are you interested in what's going on in Slovenian society?

Kris: Even a year ago, I was a lot more interested than I am now. Not just because we had a different government, but because I had time to think about it. I studied international relations for a while, I'm currently doing my master's. Otherwise I'm a chemical engineering graduate who switched to another university. I used to follow Slovenian politics a lot, but now I don't know if I feel like a fully qualified citizen of Slovenia anymore, since we've spent more than half a year outside of it. When I walk through our city now, I see it with different eyes. I see it almost as if it was any other city in the world, I pay attention to things like architecture or the atmosphere people create. Before, I used to walk through Ljubljana, it was my city, but I didn't pay attention to what was around me. Now I feel like half a stranger, which is weird in a way.

Bojan: For me, Ljubljana has now become a kind of base, a safe haven. I also see it differently than before. I agree with Kris that there are plenty of things that I didn't notice at all and I only see them now. I always perceived Ljubljana in a kind of romantic way, pretty much only the centre, even though I didn't live there from a young age. Only now that we've travelled around countries like Poland, Lithuania, or Finland, I see a lot of architectural similarities, but it has started to bother me that Ljubljana is so diverse in this aspect.

Is this diversity not a good thing?

Bojan: I don't know. Ljubljana smells nice to me, when I was walking around yesterday, I felt like Ljubljana was the last stage of a place. It's hard to say that this is a city, let alone a capital city of a country. Last night I was walking around the capital city of Slovenia at half past nine, and it was literally like I was in a "zombie land". There was no one anywhere. Incredibly weird, but on the other hand, nice.

Kris: That's pretty weird.

Bojan: Everything is getting more rigid, people are locking themselves up in their homes more and more.

Where can young people of your age go out in Ljubljana?

Kris: I'm facing this problem too.

Bojan: I think that in Ljubljana, we have quite a lot of choice when it comes to the number of places meant for parties. When they are open is another problem. We have a number of high quality clubs: K4, Cirkus, Orto, Shooter... for such a small place, we have a lot of clubs. The problem for me is that Ljubljana is a completely dead city in the summer. You can't go anywhere in the summer because everything closes down except Metelkova. For a tourist who's 20 or 25 years old and comes to Ljubljana in the summer, when it's wonderful, it's the most beautiful in the summer, it's a city where they have nothing to do.

Kris: There are plenty of places to hang out, but none of them appeal to me. I used to like going to K4, not anymore now, the last club I visited was Gala hala. It was awesome there.

When you come home nowadays, do you want to go to parties, go around the town?

Bojan: No, not at all. We're not really enthused about going out. When we come back home, we find other ways to relax. When I'm home, it suits me to be able to rest. Otherwise, what I like best is going to a concert.

Kris: That's what I like best too.

The band members constantly stick together, you even go on holidays together?

Kris: We already went together, it was awesome, we function great. The only concern is that we're constantly together. It's not good to be together all the time, each of us has his own life and things to do.

But, Bojan, you even went on holiday with your parents this year? How come?

Bojan: Yes, after eight years, we went on holiday together again. I was supposed to go to Thailand with the band, after the concert in Stožice. I got tonsillitis on the day of departure, so I avoided the long journey. When I felt a little better, I went to my grandma in Banja Luka, and after that, I went on holiday with my parents for five days.

Do they look at you differently in Banja Luka than in Slovenia?

Bojan: They don't recognise me on the street there nearly as much as it happens in Slovenia, it has only happened to me a few times.

Kris: The level at which I get recognised on the street is still okay for me. Bojan is more exposed and definitely has a different perspective. Maybe the most annoying thing is that you are expected to constantly be smiling and ready to take photos. We really are like that most of the time, but there are days when you're not in the mood to socialise, but you still have a concert. Afterwards, a lot of listeners are waiting and would like to hang out with you. I'd like to tell them that I am very grateful that they're there, but that I really don't have a never-ending social battery to be able to talk to all of them.

Bojan: It is ungrateful to talk about recognisability as something negative, because it's simply a consequence of everything we have and it's an expected side product. If I'm in a public place, I know that everyone around me is listening to what I'm talking to someone about. It has become uncomfortable to talk about anything personal with anyone, because you always feel like someone is eavesdropping.

What's your favourite thing to do when you finish a gig?

Kris: The first thing I do is to take a shower. I hang out a little with the team, with the band members, sometimes we go out to take photos, but otherwise, as soon as possible I drink a glass of water and go directly to bed.

Bojan: I'm such a good boy. I always take at least one hour for taking photos with fans.

I haven't yet come across you getting caught drunk or high on various substances, which isn't rare in the music world, it's more like a rule.

Bojan: I view all these extreme excesses as filling a void. For 99 percent of these performers who are said to do this, the roots of those voids are very clear. They come from personal trauma, mostly from childhood. Thankfully all five of us in the band come from very stable and happy families, none of us lacked for anything, quite the opposite, we all had everything endlessly. We have maximum support from all the people around us. We don't feel the need to rebel against anything, because we actually have nothing to rebel against. All these bands that did a lot of drugs and alcohol actually mostly broke up very quickly.

Bojan, you appear to be very energetic on stage, you're spontaneous and charismatic, you have the public eating our of your hand. Do you unleash your alter ego on the stage? Is that a different Bojan?

Bojan: You'd have to ask the guys from the band who spend the most time with me. As far as I know from the stories from people who have known me since I was little, I have always been loud and very talkative. I always liked performing and I wouldn't say that I put on an act on stage. On stage, I let myself go to the max, I think that I really mould myself into what I think belongs on stage. It's not a different Bojan on the stage, he just does some things that belong on stage.

Kris: Bojan on stage is in a higher gear. It's the same for the whole band.

Bojan: People can feel other people. Everything that happened to us is also in large part a consequence of people actually feeling that we are the same people on stage as we are when we come off the stage. We're real here, there's no acting, we also don't think that we're any better than them. We're all friends, they're below the stage, we're on the stage, and we have fun together.

Kris: It's also true that I feel more free on stage. We're allowed more. I enjoy the fact that our concert is a sort of a valve, even though I hate that word.

Like every ordinary woman, I can't skip past your fantastic stage clothes. All my female friends want to wear them.

Bojan: I would also like to wear them in my private life, but I already have a closet full of clothes that have piled up throughout my life, and they aren't like the ones we wear at gigs. But I would like to walk out of my room every day dressed in a way that made me look like I'm in Miami in the 80s, or like a mix between a "drug dealer" and a "drug cop".

Kris: My sister has already looted my closet. I looted my dad's.

Bojan: I have looted the closets of my parents and my sister.

Kris, your dad is a famous musician. Did he help you at the start, what kind of advice does he give you?

Kris: My dad only helped me in the sense that I sometimes showed him what I had written or what we had recorded in the studio, and he gave his opinion. But that hasn't happened in a year now, ever since I moved out. Before that, he could hear me through the walls when I was playing.

Bojan: I've also become independent. Although now when we come back from a tour, I still like going back home the best.

What does independence look like?

Kris: I like it. I can't imagine going back home anymore, even though I love my family immensely. But us not living together anymore has only made our relationships better. I like having my own peace, but I also like coming back home for lunch.

BIOGRAPHY In 2017, five friends started a band called Joker Out. They had all been musically active before, but they achieved the first big success as a band as the winning group of Špil liga in Kino Šiška in Ljubljana. After this victory, the boys became sought-after on all Slovenian musical stages. They released two albums, Umazane misli in 2021 and Demoni a year later. In those two years, they also received two 'Zlata piščal' ('Golden Flute') awards, in 2020 for newcomers of the year, and again next year for artists of the year. This spring, RTV Slovenia sent Joker Out and their song Carpe Diem to Eurovision where, despite a lot of attention from fans, they ended in a modest 21st place. Despite that, European music enthusiasts have welcomed them as their own, their popularity is growing quickly. Joker Out are currently filling the biggest European concert stages, which no Slovenian musician has managed before.

If you repost quotes from the interview, please link back to this post!

#joker out #bojan cvjeticanin #bojan cvjetićanin #kris gustin #kris guštin #Spotify #jo: bojan&kris #type: article #source: reporter magazine #og language: slovenian #year: 2023 #jos original: podcast

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