#maybe one day I'll translate to english too

[hitchhikerwithoutguide]

Jag har aldrig varit med om något övernaturligt.

Men många tror inte på mig, för huset jag växte upp i är 200 år gammalt. En gammal herrgård som tillhört min familj i 150 år, men marken den står på har tillhört min familj längre än så. Exakt hur länge vet jag inte, men längre än husets existens.

Till herrgården hörde kringliggande åkrar, ett dränghus, en laggård och mycket mer. Många generationer av min släkt på mammas sida har levt där hela sina liv.

Men trots den långa historian som tillhör huset så har ingen i min familj upplevt något övernaturligt. Visserligen är det ingen av oss som tror på något sådant, jag är väl den mest spirituellt lagd av oss, men jag är fortfarande extremt skeptisk. "I want to believe", men aldrig fått några bevis.

Men en gång, när jag var 17 hände något. Detta är 9 år sedan nu, och en av våra gamla katter hade gått bort. Katten var 15 år och hans mamma ett år äldre.

Båda katterna tyckte mycket om att sova i min säng tillsammans med mig på natten, men de tyckte inte riktigt om varandra och fick liksom turas om. Den natt jag tänker berätta om var honkatten inte hos mig, och jag var på gränsen mellan vaken och sovande.

Plötsligt känns det som att en katt hoppar upp i sängen, men den var tyngre än honkatten. Samma tyngd som den nu döda hankatten hade. Den gick upp mot mitt huvud, och la sig vid huvudkudden. Precis så som hankatten brukade göra. Det kändes varmt där den låg.

Jag öppnade aldrig ögonen, jag rörde mig aldrig. Jag minns inte om det var för att jag var för trött, eller om faktumet att det kändes så tryggt och fint att det var precis som om hankatten hade lagt sig där.

När jag var 18 år gick även honkatten bort, vid 17 års ålder. Och några nätter efteråt låg jag i min säng i samma stadie mellan vaken och sovande. Något hoppade upp i sängen, och la sig vid min mage som att vi skedade. Precis på samma sätt som honkatten gjorde nör hon levde.

Men jag är osäker på om det som hände då för nästan 10 år sen faktiskt hände. Jag var övertygad om det då, men berättade det mest som att det var en verklig dröm. Kanske var det allt det var? En inbillning, en önskan, en dröm.

Men oavsett om det var mina bortgångna katter som för sista gången kom och sov i min säng är jag extremt tacksam för att jag fick uppleva det. Det hjälpte med att lätta sorgen något, som att dom ville berätta för mig att allt var okej, att dom var okej och jag behövde inte oroa mig för om jag hade gjort tillräckligt för dom.

[wildkitte]

Creusa’s disappearance: longe, pone, fefellit and Aeneas’ duty

Creusa’s disappearance is a curious part of Book II and has captivated me ever since I first read (and then reread and reread and reread) the book. Aeneas’ sorrow at losing his wife is so acute and palpable even after years on the run, but it’s still awfully… vague, isn’t it? What really happens to Creusa? And whose fault was her disappearance anyway? And how does this reflect on pius Aeneas, when he can’t follow his duty towards his wife?

I’ll be paraphrasing my thesis quite a lot here and I am leaning quite heavily on the Servius/Servius Auctus commentary, kind of as a jumping board to interpretations of this part of the book. (Also, in my first post I talked about the juicy bits starting from 2.768, and I must admit that I just glanced at my thesis summary and picked the wrong lines to start with. So, let’s actually start from 2.667 up to 2.760 and then finish with 2.768-795. These are the lines I spent 5 months staring at and hitting my head against a brick wall until the brick wall broke. Also, special un-thanks to Servius for being such a bitch to translate.)

So disaster unfolds and it all comes down to Aeneas’ plan

Let’s recap: Anchises will climb on Aeneas’ shoulders, and Aeneas clasps hands with little Iulus, and finally “let my wife follow our footsteps at a distance” – longe servet vestigia coniunx (2.711). Alright, solid plan there – but how far actually is this longe? This has been an issue of debate especially among modern feminist critiques (I once again raise Perkell (1981, 2021), Grillo (2010) and Hughes (1997) as ones whose articles I found the most useful for my thesis topic) but apparently this has been enough of an issue, a weird imperfection in Aeneas’ perfect image (I say image, because he is unwell and kind of not perfect at all), that it deserves its own comments in Servius’ commentary. So how long is “at a distance”? Or is it “a long way off” or “far away” (LSJ gives all these options)? How far away exactly did Aeneas order Creusa to follow behind?

Servius states that longe can’t be that long of a distance, since later (2.725) follows pone subit coniunx (“wife walks behind”). Pone, according to Servius, does not signify time – so it must express distance. Creusa does not follow some time behind, there is no significant delay between Aeneas & co. and Creusa, and with that logic she must have started out close by. Servius also defends Aeneas’ plan: it makes more sense to go individually like this, as a bigger group is easier to capture. I also do not think Aeneas meant for this distance to be so long – he clearly expected her to be right behind them, as she clearly should have been within sight (and also hey let’s talk about vidi crudelius soon, that’s a fun one). But why did she have to stay behind in the first place? This kind of leaves a bad taste in the reader’s mouth. Does pius Aeneas, the man embodying pietas, only extend his duty towards family to its male members? How could he be this neglectful of his wife? What is the reason for this?

Here I must bring up the curious case of fefellit in 2.774 (et comites natumque virumque fefellit). In Kline’s translation this line goes: “[she] had escaped the notice of friends, child and husband.” Sarah Ruden’s translation also uses this “escape notice” translation, but there is actually some disagreement on the meaning of this line. Fallo is quite rare in the Aeneid, and only appears a few times. Here Perkell points out, that in these other locations, fallo signifies “to betray, deceive” instead. Perkell argues, that we should interpret fefellit to mean deception instead. In a way this would fall into line with Aeneas’ desperate attempts to put the blame on someone, anyone else than himself.

Quem non incusavi amens hominumque deorumque, what man or god did I not blame in my madness? Himself, Perkell argues (and this is a compelling argument – though I always interpreted the genetivus partitivus also included Aeneas himself). He talks about some hostile power taking control of his wits, and even Servius says that this sounds like an excuse (and wow would you look at what happens in 12-948-949?). With the fefellit argument I don’t really have much to say myself – I think turning fallo into “Creusa was deceived OF her companions, child and husband” rather than she herself deceiving them is maybe more accurate.

There is no reason to believe that Aeneas is being dishonest about this progression of events – in general he is treated as a trustworthy narrator when it comes to Books II and III. But it does not escape my notice that while the description of Troy’s fall is so detailed and brutal and graphic throughout Book II, Creusa’s disappearance is almost… sanitized? And Servius actually points out the same: she disappears “pure and non-violent [like the wind]” (Serv. Aen. 2.794), she is the only one whose death gets a vague, sterilized description (if we compare to literally anyone else in this book). But for what reason?

My professor pointed out that one reason might simply be trauma. Losing Creusa is simply too painful to talk about. Perhaps he did come across Creusa’s corpse on the way (he actually reacts the same way to Polydorus’ corpse in Book III; obstipui, steteruntque comae et uox faucibus haesit, 3.48) but he does not wish to repeat this private tragedy, “the cruelest sight” in the entire fall of Troy: the loss of Creusa.

But hey let’s finally talk about that vidi crudelius. Servius makes a fascinating comment about this line:

VIDI CRUDELIUS bene se futurus commendat maritus, qui apud feminam sic ostendit priorem se amasse uxorem. (Serv. Aen. 2.746)

“future husband recommends himself well. thus, he demonstrates to [Dido] that he loved his previous wife.”

This comment changes the perspective, doesn’t it? Because suddenly Servius reminds us, that this is Aeneas’ performance to Dido, and it would kind of be bad optics to admit that you were so careless with your wife that she died due to your negligence and failure to perform your duty as pater familias. Austin suggests that Aeneas self-inflicted blame and sorrow moved Dido, making him a more desirable husband – it must be a relief for Dido to find someone who understands her pain of having lost her spouse. Could this be a calculated move from Aeneas? (Perkell does kind of think that Aeneas is being purposefully deceptive, but here is where I disagree with her)

But even with all this, it is probably safe to blame the gods and fate here (almost like that’s a theme that comes up over and over again).

In Creusa’s first words to Aeneas, it kind of seems that she already knows what’s to come: cui parvos Iulus, cui pater et coniunx quondam tua dicta relinquor (to whom do you abandon little Iulus, to whom father and the wife, who was once called yours? 2.677-678)? Servius directs attention to coniunx quondam, saying quod eventurum timet, quasi iam contigerit, deflet (she laments as if what she fears to happen had already happened; Serv. Aen 2.678). It’s like she can feel it coming, the fate about to steal her away.

She does in fact confirm this herself in 2.777: non haec sine numine divum eveniunt (this did not happen without the will of gods)! There is further proof in the scene where Aeneas dashes back to Troy. Previously in the book danger was everywhere, streets littered with corpses and the city on fire, Greeks and Trojans clashing in mad bloodletting all over the city – and yet now, as Aeneas tracks back his steps and calls out for Creusa over and over again (the “iterumque iterumque vocavi” is so phonetically delightful isn’t it), the enemy does not see him. Servius comments on two things in the passage 2.767-769: Aeneas shouting explicitly exposes him to danger – and this also proves that he had himself evaded this fate, while he lost his spouse to it (hic ostendit, et se fato evasisse, et fato coniugem perdidisse, Serv. Aen. 2.768). (Edit: holy shit how could I forget: Aeneas literally calls her fatone erepta, snatched away by fate. So there it is.)

As said, in my opinion there is no reason to believe Aeneas is lying or being dishonest, while it is kind of convenient that Creusa herself comforts Aeneas with this “oh well, that’s what the gods want, no can do” speech. Still I tend to agree with my professor: the trauma is simply too fresh and painful to share (“Infandum, regina, iubes renovare dolorem” applies here too). We’ll never know what truly happened to Creusa, and that is part of what makes her disappearance so compelling. What use is there to indulge in such mad grief, after all?

 Here's all I have to say about Creusa’s disappearance for now. In the next post, let’s talk about how cute Aeneas and Creusa are and why there should be more fanfiction of them on AO3.

[portokali]

also!!!! @thegarlicbreads tagged me to share my most recent, current & next read!!! ty lett that's a v fun game! 🍃

tagging @mothvhs @pherelpis @pinknoisemp3 @quillsand @catboyparrish @librarybi @byrons and everyone else who wants to do it!!!

[intravention]

u/Evangelion2004 on Reddit has been working on translating Dogra Magra (an epic feat given how notoriously long and complicated the original is). I hope they finish it, I'd love to read it all one day.

I know there's a recently published translation of the novel as a translation of a translation from Japanese -> French -> English. I'm not sure if it'll get reprints, though, so I don't think I'll be reading that translation any time soon.

Translation is hard, and inevitably, some details will be lost in translation. I wish I was more proficient in Japanese or at least Chinese so I could read it without being dependent on a translator. For now, I'm thankful to the people who do TL work. There are so many stories I'd never get a chance to know without help crossing the language barrier.

[blue-eyed-beastie]

A Closer Look at Belle's Book: Part II

In Part I, I went into some detail about the illustration inside Belle's book, but now I want to turn the page, so to speak.

Thanks to the magic of 4K, I was able to zoom in on some details in Beauty and the Beast that I had never noticed before, and this time I wanted to see what story Belle was reading. I've seen theories that it was either foreshadowing Aladdin or referencing Sleeping Beauty, and I myself noticed that it bears some artistic resemblance to Snow White... but it turns out that it has nothing to do with Disney, or its fairy tales.

It's something else entirely, and it's in French!

After zooming in and studying each frame, I managed to make out the following text:

une languissante sirene! Enfin, il sera bientôt heureux, si c'est là ce qui doit causer son bonheur. Je sais que je suis agréable à regarder, puisque j'y ai du plaisir moi-même, et de ce plaisir je ne priverai pas mon mari, au contraire. Je ne sais si je l'aimerai, je l'espère; mais je veux qu'il m'aime lui, et je ferai pour lui plaire tout ce qui lui plaira. Ah! chère Adélaïde, je suis pleine de rêves absurdes et de pensées contradictoires! Je songe à des choses qui me semblent à la fois douces et vilaines, et j'ai des imaginations qui me font rougir en même temps que pleurer! Au moins, je ne m'ennuie pas. Je vis plus en une heure de ces journées que l'an passé je ne vécus en toute l'année. Chaque heure me renouvelle, me grandit et m'épanouit. Je me semble un rosier qui fleur rirait à vue d’œil, je suis fraîche et parfumée; je suis légère et forte: j'attends le bonheur. Paul est plus beau que je ne l'avais encore jamais tu. Il est pâle avec de grands yeux pleins de fièvre et d'amour. Je le trouve sublime quand il s'agenouille près de moi pour me regarder comme en prière. J'ai envie de le prière aussi, parfois, et de coucher ma joue sur ses genoux, mais quand j'ai cette envie-la, je me fâché contre moi-meme et je boude Paul.

Which, roughly translated into English, means:

a languid siren! Finally, he will soon be happy, if that is what will make him happy. I know that I am pleasant to look at, since I take pleasure in it myself, and of this pleasure I will not deprive my husband, on the contrary. I do not know if I will love him, I hope so; but I want him to love me, and I will do whatever he pleases to please him. Ah! dear Adelaide, I am full of absurd dreams and contradictory thoughts! I think of things that seem to me both sweet and ugly, and I have fantasies that make me blush and cry at the same time! At least, I am not bored. I live more in one hour of these days than I lived in the whole year last year. Each hour renews me, makes me grow and blossom. I seem to myself a rosebush that blooms laughing before my eyes, I am fresh and fragrant; I am light and strong: I await happiness. Paul is more handsome than I have ever seen him before. He is pale with big eyes full of fever and love. I find him sublime when he kneels down next to me to look at me as if in prayer. I want to pray to him too, sometimes, and to lay my cheek on his knees, but when I have this desire, I get angry with myself and I sulk at Paul.

By the way, there is one more sentence (maybe even two) at the bottom of the page that is partially obscured by Belle's shoulder and right hand. It may or may not be important to the rest of the excerpt, but for completion's sake, I'll share it here:

Il est ... maintenir un homme dans les ...

Which translates to:

He is ... to keep a man in the ...

Intriguing, isn't it? What was she trying to say?

Overall, the author appears to be an unwed woman dreaming of her future marriage to a man named Paul. Her confidante is someone named Adelaide, but I suspect she is actually writing to herself. Regardless, she is either betrothed to Paul or she longs to be, since she calls him her husband. Perhaps it is an arranged marriage? She goes on to dwell upon his handsomeness, and how she longs to be close to him, but then she gets angry at herself for feeling this way. The last line of the passage is incomplete, but my best guess is that the author is saying that Paul is not to blame for her sulking, so it is not right to keep a man in the dark, i.e. ignorant. I could be wrong, though. In any case, she is conflicted about her feelings on the matter. You could even say that her feelings are "new, and a bit alarming".

I can see why the filmmakers chose this passage for Belle's book.

It may not be a fairy tale, but it certainly has elements from the film. There are references to beauty, roses, imagination, and eyes filled with love, and passion.

Belle:

"Oh, isn't this amazing? It's my favorite part because—you’ll see Here's where she meets Prince Charming But she won't discover that it's him 'til Chapter Three!"

Do the lyrics match the story hinted at on the page itself? No, but I really respect the filmmakers for going out of their way to include this kind of detail in the film. They could have taken the easy way out, by writing out something like "Once upon a time" to echo the opening narration, or used "Lorem ipsem" Latin filler, or even meaningless brush strokes just to fill the page... but they didn't. They chose something in French that Belle herself might have liked to read. And I think that's really cool.

[aniesvision]

distraction (bff!colby x f!reader)

based on a request! (im sorry it's not exactly how u asked for but i'll do more fics with colby and try to use all your requests, for now i hope u like this one 💕)

warnings: little angst at the beginning, mentions of break-up and cheating (not her or colby), crying, kissing, making out, fingering, oral (f! receiving), handjob, p in v, pet names (baby, pretty girl), kinda rough (?), slight dumbification, spanking but just a lil bit, all fours!, orgasm denial, praising, pleading, backshot.

a/n: hi! I had this in my notes but in portuguese, so I tried to translate it, if the writing is different that's why! i hope you guys enjoy it, and just the usual reminder: english is not my first language!

synopsis: you go through a breakup and decide to drive to your best friend's house to distract yourself, but he surprises you with his choice of distraction.

note: Colby's purple!

🪻🪻🪻

Although I had always loved rainy days, the gray clouds covering the sun and the drops of water soaking the concrete streets, today I couldn't see it in a positive way. Traffic was at a standstill, a thunderstorm was falling on the glass, and the sound of my music was being drowned out by the loud noise of drops contacting the roof and windows of the car.

In any other situation, I would've just parked, turned up the sound and enjoyed the time. But now, I would do anything to stop all this and just get to my destination right away.

The stress of the current situation and the memories of what brought me this far rolled through my mind and all I could do was feel the tears forming and falling on the steering wheel.

It was just a few more damn blocks, just a few more streets, just a little bit more. The crying came as hard and heavy as the rain outside. If there's one thing I've always hated it's feeling weak. To be collapsing in the car, standing in the middle of the street with a storm happening, the feeling of being so close, yet so far from where I wanted to be, was too much.

Not only that, but having just moved out of my, now ex, boyfriend's house after he decided to finally confess that he had been cheating on me for the past few weeks while I had been traveling for work and thinking about how I missed him didn't help at all.

I didn't want to go for so long, I hated being out of the house, out of my comfort zone, and even though I enjoyed my job and learned a lot, maybe I could have avoided it all.

Of course, if he cheated, it wasn't because we were separated for a long time (witch wasn't even the case, it was just two weeks), it was because he was a dick.

But still, I can't help but wonder if things could've gone differently if I had simply refused the trip.

It was only two weeks, which in theory wouldn't be that long. Two weeks, in which I dedicated myself to work and tried to improve my career. Two weeks in which he was always too busy for a facetime, but said he missed me. Two weeks in which I bought gifts for him, in which I texted him whenever it was possible, in which he was fucking another woman in the same bed that I used to spend my nights.

I returned from the trip straight to him, straight to his house, straight into his arms. The hug and touch I wanted to feel so much.

He opened the door and didn't even smile at me. I walked in, asked what was wrong, my heart already felt that something was going to happen, that there was something wrong. I knew, even before he said anything, that we weren't going to stay together after that conversation.

When we sat down and he explained his reason for not wanting to be with me anymore, for making me feel guilty for leaving him alone, apologizing for cheating on me but not seeming to regret it, my heart broke into a thousand little pieces.

I didn't say a word, I just handed him the gift I bought him during the trip, knowing he'd like it, and walked out the door. I hadn't cried until then, even though I was destroyed from the first moment.

My idea was to go to my best friends' house and try my best to forget about all this. But, traffic happened, and the tears kept coming, and I couldn't even pull myself together enough to drive a few more damn streets. I cried, and cried some more, and even more.

I cried until I had no more tears left, and then I felt so tired that I couldn’t even think straight. I took a deep breath, started the car, and drove the rest of the way to his house. I knocked on the door a few times, and as soon as it opened, I didn’t even wait to figure out who had opened it, I just buried my face in the chest of the person in front of me and clung to their body with all the strength I had left.

The person in front of me gently pushed me back. Colby looked at me with concern, his eyes softening as he take in my state. He pulled me into another hug, allowing me to stay there as long as I needed. After a while, we separated.

He locked the front door and explained that he was home alone, but Sam would probably be back later if I wanted to talk to him too. We sat on the living room couch. Colby hesitated to ask what happened, due to my state. I took a deep breath, removed my sneakers, crossed my legs on the couch, and mindlessly played with my fingers while I told him what happened, without looking at him.

-He cheated on me. — I said, simply and directly, my voice slightly hoarse and still filled with sadness.

Colby's eyes widened in shock, and he quickly stood up, stopping in front of me.

-What?? —His voice carried anger.

He was in disbelief, caught off guard by my confession, but it was clear how furious he was.

I remained silent, unable to repeat the phrase that had already been so difficult to say out loud.

-He’s a damn idiot for cheating on a girl like you. Fuck, I want to punch him so bad right now. —Colby ranted, pacing from one end of the room to the other.

It was hard not to break down right there, but it was even harder to cry in front of someone else. Despite having cried in front of Colby before, I didn’t want to shed tears for someone who didn’t deserve them.

-I don’t want to remember it anymore. Can we talk about something else, please? I just need a distraction. —I said, frustrated.

Colby looked at me, the anger gradually turning into understanding. He took a deep breath to calm himself and nodded, extending a hand to help me up before pulling me into another hug.

-Yes, of course. Whatever you want. —He said, his tone softer now.

He stroked my hair with one hand and my back with the other. We stayed like that for a while, not saying anything, just appreciating the closeness. After a few minutes, he pulled away just enough to look into my eyes, studying me carefully, trying to understand my feelings. It looked like he was examining every detail of my face, maybe to gauge how I was doing, simply out of concern.

Colby gave me a small smile, cupping my cheeks with his hands and leaving a gentle caress there. His gesture made me smile back, and I looked at him as attentively as he looked at me.

Without saying anything or even preparing me for his next move, he pressed his lips on mine in a delicate, quick kiss, pulling away in less than five seconds, afraid of my reaction.

I stared at him, not angry, not irritated, not disappointed, just extremely confused.

-You said you needed a distraction. —He explained, his voice low and hesitant, as if he still wasn’t sure if he should have done that, if it had worsened the situation or possibly helped.

I think about what he said. Colby and I had shared a few kisses before at parties when I was single, and he was too. But, at parties, we were in a more appropriate setting for friends to just kiss spontaneously without needing any justification, purely out of desire or a “fuck it” moment.

And now, despite not being at a party, I was upset, heartbroken, and genuinely needed something to take my mind off things. So, the “fuck it” moment happened, and I leaned in to kiss him again.

What was supposed to be just a quick peck, turned into something more when he decided to deepen the kiss and brush his tongue against mine. It was the first time we kissed for real. It wasn't just a simple touching of lips, but a true tongue battle, with our heads slightly tilted to opposite sides.

His hands moved to my hips, pulling me closer, and I wrap my hands around his neck, playing with his hair. He was a good kisser, the synchrony of our mouths was perfect, and the distraction was working way too well, until he pulled away, with a smug smile on his face.

-Do you feel distracted yet? —He asks, in a sarcastic tone, like he wanted to find a way to provoke me as he always do. I roll my eyes with a small smile on my lips, not even thinking twice before responding.

-I think I'm not distracted enough.

He pulled me into another kiss, even more intense than the last one. Gradually, he took two steps back, sitting down on the couch, with his legs slightly open, his eyes focused on mine.

He pulls me by the hands, making me sit on his lap, each leg of mine on one side of his body.

We went back to kissing, not even giving ourselves time to process what we were doing. It felt so natural, as normal as a routine, it felt comfortable enough that I didn't even wonder if I should be making out with my best friend.

The kiss became deeper, more intense. Colby moves his hands to my ass, pulling me even closer, making me feel his already hard member through his sweatpants. In an automatic action, I move my hips, grinding on him and making him separate the kiss to let out a loud sigh.

Our gazes met once again, his pupils were dilated, his eyes looked different, the tension in the air was almost palpable.

He squeezes my ass, making me gasp, and a smile appears on his lips. I didn't know when Sam was going to come back home, I only knew that this was in fact happening when I felt my shirt being pulled off my body and thrown on the floor.

Fortunately for me I wore a nice bra today, which matched my panties. My idea was that someone else would see it, but it didn't happen as I expected.

I didn't know how to feel when my thoughts went to how slutty I was to let someone else see me that way so quickly after my break up, but considering that I trust Colby with my life, and it was visible how fascinated he was, I couldn't case less.

His eyes scan my body, his fingers lightly moving at my sides, almost shyly, feeling my skin. But he wasn't shy, it was obvious from the way he was basically eye fucking me.

- I really want to do this, but I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of the situation to get in your pants. —He says. I smile, grateful that even though we were making out, he still thinks of me with respect.

I take one of my hands to his chin, lifting it with two fingers.

- I trust you. —My voice is firm, although it contains a certain sweetness.

He nods, getting the message, and kisses me again. In one quick motion, he takes off his own shirt, tossing it close to mine on the floor, wasting no time in exploring my exposed skin with his fingertips.

His lips trace kisses from my mouth to my neck, where he leaves some hickeys. My eyes remain closed, feeling every touch my best friend provided.

Without thinking too much, I run my fingers through his skin too, feeling every detail. Even though I've seen him shirtless before, this was different, it was another context and another occasion.

I let my fingers slide down to the waistband of his sweatpants, but before I could pull it down, he switches our positions, laying me down on the couch and doing what I planned to do, taking off his sweatpants and tossing it aside.

He does the same with mine, his eyes looking me up and down, his lips finding mine to another kiss.

Our glued bodies, the friction between our skins and the last pieces of clothing are reasons enough for us to understand that we were crossing a line. Even so, neither of us took the time to stop and ask if we were sure, it was obvious from how unable we were to stop. From the fact that I was already hot, my panties soaked and how hard he was.

There was no room for questioning.

Slowly, Colby's hands find the clasp of my bra, gently taking it off. He stares at my boobs for a few seconds, his mouth agape like he was seeing the best work of art of all times in front of him.

-So beautiful. —He mumbles, before bringing his lips to my nipples and leaving wet kisses there.

He squeezes my other boob with his free hand, making me gasp, which gave him even more confidence to continue.

He gave the same attention to the other nipple, gradually moving his kisses to my belly, stopping just before my panties, looking up and smiling before letting his fingers curl around the elastic.

Even though I didn't say a word to stop him, his eyes asked for my permission, and I answered him only with a quick nod.

He took off the last piece of clothing that covered my body, my skin completely exposed to the eyes of my best friend. A wave of nervousness hits me, making me somewhat anxious about the situation I got on.

Colby leaves light kisses on the inside of my thighs, getting closer and closer to where I wanted, taking his time to tease me. When finally his lips make contact with my sensitive area, his tongue tracing a line from my entrance to my clit, a small moan of pleasure escapes my mouth.

-Mhm, Colby, please... -I whine.

It only served to boost his ego, his tongue moving faster and more precise, my hips moving involuntarily against his mouth, his hands firm on my thighs as he kept his head in between my legs, making me completely forget how strange and maybe even wrong it was that I was so easily surrendering to another person.

-Colby... - His name comes out low, in a small plea for him not to stop, one of my hands intertwining in his hair and pulling him closer, my back arching on the couch.

Even though I can't see, I feel a smile forming on his lips, one of his hands sliding down my thigh. He slides a finger under his chin, pushing in and moving it at the same speed as his tongue.

A few moans come naturally from my lips, my hand holding his hair tighter, my head being thrown back and my eyes closing in pleasure. It was almost impossible not to give in, all the anxiety I felt earlier going away with the knot that formed in my stomach.

-Colby, fuck, I'm... -I try to warn him, his voice interrupting me.

-Cum on my fingers, baby.

A feeling of tension followed by relaxation takes over my body and little by little he withdraws his finger and his tongue from me, looking at me intently.

My only reaction was to hold his face and pull him in for a kiss, feeling my own taste. My hands move until I managed to get the last piece of clothing off his body, leaving us equally naked. I use one of my hands to feel him, his veins pulsing in my fingers, the tip hot and red. The sigh coming out of his lips as he feels my hand working on his member, not letting me continue until I'm done as he uses one of his hands to hold both of mine above my head, his other free hand lining up his member at my entrance and thrusting it all at once.

I bite my lips, trying not to scream when I feel the burning sensation and light pain before I got used to his size, a shaky moan leaving my throat. Colby continues to hold my hands, the other now at my waist, his face buried on the curve of my neck.

-Harder... -I plead, his head tilting so he could see me, a smirk on his lips.

-Yeah? Want me to be rough with you? Fuck you dumb? -His thrusts were faster and harder now, with each thrust he'd get balls deep into me, hitting all the right places.

-Please, please, fuck, Colby. -I cry out as he lets out a cocky laugh.

I didn't even tried to keep my moans low and quiet, they already came out loud and frequent, some curses and pleading being constant acts at this point.

The phrases I never thought I would hear coming from him, and from me to him, were the touches of reality that showed me that it was real, it was happening, I was enjoying it, and that, for some reason, my best friend was making me feel more pleasure than my ex made me feel in all the months we were together.

My fingernails had left marks on his back, but he didn't seem to care.

-Turn around. -He groans, pulling out and turning my body so I was in all fours.

I didn't even had a chance to speak before he was burying his dick inside of me once more, the new position making me feel him even deeper than before. Tears were already starting to form on my eyes.

He grabs my hair, keeping me up, leaning to whisper in my ears.

-Such a good girl for me, letting me fuck you like this.

I whine at his words, my legs shaking and another orgasm building up quickly in my stomach.

-Gonna cum for me again, pretty girl? —He asks, leaning down to kiss my shoulder.

I couldn't even speak at this point, so all I do is hum in affirmation, moans getting louder and louder.

-Hold it. —His demand was low and firm, and my eyes widen in surprise.

-C-Colby, fuck, can't, please, I need it so bad, please, please. —I look over my shoulder, catching his smirk before he pushed my head down onto the cushion and slapped my ass harshly.

-Cum with me, baby.

He slaps my ass one last time and my orgasm snaps, making me release all over his dick with a loud moan of his name. I feel him pulling away and shooting his load on my back, making me whine.

×××

We were already both lying down, next to each other, recovering the air and energy we had expended in the last few minutes, in silence, which was only broken by my laughter.

-I can't believe we did that.

He laughs along with me, shaking his head in denial and sitting up. Colby picked up all of our clothes on the floor, and handed me mine carefully, helping me up next.

-Wanna take a shower? —He asks, with caution in his voice like he wanted to proceed carefully from now on.

I nod my head, and he helped all the way through. The affection he showed was genuine, and I appreciated that very much, especially now.

After we are properly cleaned and in comfortable clothes, we lie down on his bed and he pulls me closer. I put an arm and a leg around his body, getting comfortable, and he wraps his arm around me, hugging me back. I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling his hand playing with my hair.

We stayed like this, no need to talk about what happened, just enjoying each other's company, until Sam arrived. I had to say, once again, the story of my breakup, but I didn't feel so sad to tell it anymore. Not while Colby held my hand and listened to everything intently, giving me the assurance that he would be there whenever I needed him.

a/n: I'm not sure how to feel about this one 😭

[luxsky]

Kicking out

Rhysand x reader

Summary: Reader tries to have a peaceful day without their partner hovering with overprotection, but destiny has other plans.

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of body aches, Rhysand being an overly protective rooster. Ignore any biological errors; I've never been pregnant and have no background in any health-related field, so everything here is either from my imagination or a quick Google search.

Autor's Note: This is my first time posting here, and I'm anxious and very, very nervous (especially because it's the first time I've written in a long time). I don't know if I like this or not, but this idea has been lingering in my head for days. Maybe I'll do a part two, but I'm not sure. Please, I welcome any kind of feedback here! (but be careful with how you say it). I apologize if the grammar is... bad? English is not my first language, and I'm not fluent (much of this had help from AI for translation, so if something doesn't make sense or is placed incorrectly, please let me know so I can correct it).

It's the beginning of fall, all you wanted to do was sit on the expensive and cozy sofa decorating the House of Wind and read a soft and cliché romance book while sipping on a cup of hot coffee. Except, you couldn't consume caffeine for the sake of the baby growing in your belly. Still, you had the option to sit and read a book, but your large and exuberant belly prevented you from sitting comfortably for too long. Well, nothing a few pillows and a blanket couldn't solve. Okay then, you didn't have coffee or a comfortable position, but you could still read your book, right?

Well, no, you've been trying to do that since the early afternoon when you sent Rhysand to his office, asking him to work a bit in his own court instead of watching over you. In fact, he had been a mother hen since the beginning of the pregnancy, and that was just one of the excuses you gave to get rid of his overprotectiveness. But it was becoming a challenging mission to concentrate on reading. You're nearing the end of your pregnancy, which is exciting in part, with the anticipation of meeting your little one consuming you, but the discomfort of carrying a baby constantly kicking your ribs has proven quite persistent.

It's been more than five minutes since you were stuck on the same page, reading and rereading but unable to focus on the book, back pain and intermittent cramps stealing all your concentration. You were used to a slight discomfort in your back since the beginning of the second trimester, but today, in particular, it was more of a significant and noticeable discomfort. You sighed in frustration and decided that maybe eating something would help. Putting the book aside, you remove the blanket from over you and swing your legs out of the sofa, prepared for the struggle it would be to get up. Normally, Rhys would help you, but if he left the office long enough to realize something was bothering you, he would spend the rest of the day hovering over you, worried and concerned.

Breathless and almost sweating, you managed to get up. At this point, the only clothes that fit you were light fabric dresses, or what you were currently wearing: one of Rhys's sweatpants and a sweater stolen from his closet. Your partner started sharing half of his wardrobe when your beautiful, stylish, and beloved clothes no longer fit you—you cried for a whole hour after trying to put on one of your favorite pants, and Rhys almost cried too, not knowing how to comfort you.

Walking towards the kitchen, you almost laughed, remembering the various times when hormones provided you with uncontrollable tears and frightened your partner. In those moments, you felt slightly vindicated by his insistence on being present for every breath you took. It's not that you didn't love your partner and appreciate his concern; it's just that he didn't know how to balance it at certain times. As soon as you told him you were pregnant, he became an overprotective mother hen full-time, and it suffocated you a bit. Of course, you talked about it, and he promised to control himself, but if you made a different move, he was already on top of you, asking what was wrong and insisting that you needed to stay in bed.

Reaching the kitchen, you pause for a moment to catch your breath and lean your hands on your back while deciding what to eat. God, this belly was weighing more than usual. Deciding to make a big, hearty sandwich, you start gathering all the necessary ingredients from the cabinets and placing them on the counter.

You feel your partner gently pulling that thread connecting you two, and the next moment, he's entering the kitchen, a furrow between his eyebrows indicating that he's thinking, and the slight contraction in his mouth tells you he's worried. "Darling, you should be resting."

You roll your eyes and let a faint smile form on your lips as you reply, "I was resting, but then I got bored." You lean against the counter for a minute, then turn to grab a knife to cut the tomatoes. When you turn again, Rhys is in front of you, reaching out towards you and taking the knife. "If you wanted something to eat, you just had to ask." You pout at him, but he ignores it and turns to the counter, starting to cut the tomatoes. "I just wanted to do something for myself; you don't let me touch anything since you found out I'm pregnant."

You're beside him, staring at the tomatoes he cut, waiting for a response. He turns his face to you and plants a quick kiss on your forehead, grabbing the bread and saying, "Because the only thing I'll let my partner do while she's pregnant is to make this baby. That's consuming enough energy, and I don't want you to tire yourself out."

"Well, your partner may be making a baby, but she assures you she has enough energy to make her own sandwich."

He raises an eyebrow, and a shit-eating grin forms on his lips. Like she had enough energy to organize the baby's clothes last night? His voice fills your mind, the thread connecting you two vibrating with his amusement. Bastard.

I only slept because you decided to intervene and didn't let me do anything else.

"Darling, I only intervened because you were asleep." He starts putting each ingredient on the bread, and you decide to sit — not because you're tired, obviously — in front of him. You go around the counter as you respond, "Well, I don't remember... Argh." The sudden pain reverberating in your back and cramping that comes and goes cut your speech in half. Damn, you really hoped it wouldn't happen now.

Rhys is in front of you before you can even move, one hand on your belly and the other gently placed on your face, guiding your eyes to meet his. "What's wrong? Is it you? The baby? Panic fills his voice and shines in his beloved violet eyes. His mouth has that contraction again.

The only response you give is a negative nod, trying to catch your breath as the pain passes. He continues with his hands on you and doesn't seem satisfied with your non-verbal answer. I'm fine, the baby is fine. It must have been just another kick in my rib.

His right hand holds the one he placed on your face, and his lips try to form a reassuring smile, which is probably just a funny grimace at the moment. He kisses your forehead, and there's still concern on his face when he pulls away just enough to put both hands on your belly. His gaze alternates between your face and your belly; he still seems reluctant, so he asks again, "Are you sure? I can call Madja just to check, and..."

''Shh." You interrupt him, placing a finger on his lips. Your gaze softened, and now you're the one placing both hands on your partner's face, your thumb stroking his cheek." I said we're fine; it's nothing serious. The baby has been restless all day."

That seems to convince him enough because he agrees and holds your hands, bringing his face closer to yours and planting a gentle kiss on your lips. You pull away after a moment, this time with a complete smile when you playfully say, "Now, go finish my sandwich, or else this baby will start kicking for food." Rhysand laughs with your remark and turns to the counter, finishing your sandwich.

He starts putting away the ingredients again after placing the plate in front of you. "Why didn't you tell me you were in pain? We could have asked Madja for something." He finishes putting away the last ingredient and turns to you again, only the counter separating him as he watches you take the first bite of the sandwich.

"Oh God, this is so good." You ignore his statement, too focused on savoring what might be the best sandwich of your life. He accepts your lack of response with a soft laugh and turns to the cabinets to grab a glass. "Do you want some juice?" you mumble a yes, with your mouth full of the sandwich, and wait for him to fill the glass. He has his back to you while rummaging through the cabinets.

Splash.

"What kind of juice do you want, dear? Because I think we only have orange or grape, but I can ask the House to make some other flavor." He turns to you, waiting for a response, but his face transforms when he sees your expression. "What? Is something wrong?"

Oh, well, this is going to be funny. You finish swallowing the sandwich, trying to formulate a word. He stays where he is, waiting for your response, frozen. But it's your next words that make him run towards you.

"I think my water just broke."

Another pang erupts in your back, and you realize that maybe it wasn't the baby that was restless. It was contractions.

And this baby is about to kick its way out of your belly.

[grnpurplgrmln]

with this new version of bluza that we got, i feel like i have to talk about the lyric "da se nagledam lepote te" (and also maybe the entirety of the last verse bc it drives me crazy)

for starters, it is such a romantic lyric i CANNOT get over it

no english translation can do it justice, the closest i can think of off the top of my head is "so i can soak up that beauty", but even that's not quite right

nagledati is a very specific type of verb (idk what the actual name for it would be cause i don't think it's a svršeni verb?? could be wrong idk grammar was never my strong suit)

it comes from the verb gledati (to look) and the prefix na-

the prefix na- gives it a sort of full quality. najesti (na- + jesti (to eat)) would mean that you've eaten so much that you're now full and can't eat anymore. nahodati (na- + hodati (to walk)) would mean that you've walked so much that you're now tired and can't walk anymore etc etc.

now, nagledati, in the context of looking at the person you're in love with, specifically their beauty AND the additional context that you're going to have to be away from them, for an undetermined amount of time?

looking at your lover so closely and so focused, so you can remember their every wrinkle, every blemish, every freckle, every twinkle in their eyes as they stare at you with the same love you feel for them, just in case you start to miss them, because you know you will, your heart would never let you fool yourself into thinking otherwise?

devastating, i want more of it

as i've stated earlier, this whole ending verse just trips me up so bad, in the best way possible

"ne palite još svetla" "don't turn on the lights yet"

"još samo jedan tren" "just one more moment"

"da se nagledam lepote te" "so i can really take in that beauty"

"ne palite još svetla" "don't turn on the lights yet"

"ne prizivajte dan" "don't summon the day"

"spasite me, smislite neki plan" "save me, think up some plan"

"ako svane sunce" "if the sun rises"

"ostat ću sam" "i'll be left alone"

it's so tragically romantic that it makes my heart break.

one thing i noticed here though, are the lyrics "ne palite još svetla" and "spasite me, smislite neki plan" mostly because they're in plural

now, i think it's probably just because that's the closest serbian has to gender neutral pronouns*, but i also think it's interesting to think of bojan, as the "protagonist" of the song, pleading the world to stop so he could get more time with his lover, a moment of selfishness

and the way the rest of the song sets up this almost domestic feeling "soba nam je mala"/"our room is small", which could also be translated to "the room is too small for us" as in "this room is far too small for our love, to handle us"

and i just... how can you not love this song...

additional notes:

* i'm an idiot, i just remembered that singular imperative exists and is also gender neutral so the lyric could have been "spasi me, smisli neki plan" but it's not so the whole protagonist talking to the world stuff might have been the intended purpose

[httplilyyy]

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 || 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐒

pairing: alexia putellas x reader

summary: you were always second best but maybe this one time you’d be first.

warnings: like one swear word, angst, fluff & slight smut

word count: 3.6k

a/n: i was watching friends whilst making this, hence your ‘best friend’ being called rachel.

woso masterlist request

You were used to being second best in everything. The league, the ballon d'or and now the world cup. But you had just transferred to Barcelona so you hoped that would all change.

Another English prospect joining Barcelona caused a lot of media to be focused on you throughout the world cup. Especially during the last game where you’d be playing against your future teammates.

But what the media didn’t know was that you were quite close with their star player. Alexia Putellas. Although you used to play in the WSL, you had met one night in Ibiza and immediately hit it off.

There was a slight problem, however, you had fallen for her and so had your best friend.

Your best friend, Rachel, had met Alexia one day by coming over to yours unexpectedly.

You knew of her crush on Alexia and you did everything in your power to stop yourself from falling too, but it was pointless. You were already in too deep and you feared there was no way out.

What you also knew was how Alexia would never feel the same way about you. So you let your feelings be buried deep inside whilst you tried to put on your best brave face and be a wingwoman for your best friend.

It was currently the first training back from the world cup and you had just pulled your car into park. Rachel sat beside you, sporting the Barcelona gear, fiddling with the hem of her top.

“You’re going to be fine, I promise.” You smiled, giving her hand a squeeze before getting out of the car.

“But what if I make a fool of myself, I hardly know any Spanish.” They replied, getting out themselves.

“Use google translate.” You shrugged with a teasing grin, getting your kit back out of the boot before making your way into the building.

“You’re an ass.” Rachel muttered, jogging to catch up with you.

“I know, you love it though.” You chuckled, nudging her with your elbow.

“I like someone else's.” Rachel whispered, watching as Alexia walked a few paces ahead.

“Uh huh.” You murmured, feeling jealousy begin to bubble in your stomach. “So I'll see you after training?”

“Wait what?” Rachel questioned, seeing as you skipped off in front and joined up with Alexia. “Y/n!”

She could hear your laugh bouncing off the walls as you turned a corner and left to the pitch with Alexia.

Although it was the first session back since the world cup, it was not an easy one. With the blistering heat beaming down on you it made the drills just a little bit more harder.

You caught yourself staring at Alexia throughout the day, going from little glances when she wasn't looking to blown out stares. You cursed yourself every time for looking at her that way but you just couldn't help it.

It had gotten to the end of the session when a mini game was formed, unfortunately, Alexia wasn’t on your team. After half an hour of an intense game, your team came up short.

A lucky goal scored by Patri secured the win for the other team and although it was only a game for fun. You couldn't help but feel a little down, but this was what you were used to, being second best.

You took your bib off and made your way to get a drink. Sitting alone, you finally let yourself calm down. But that didn't last very long when a shadow appeared in front of you.

“There’s my runner up.” Alexia teased, squirting some water in her mouth as she looked down at you.

“Ha ha, very funny Ale.” You huffed, a smile escaping your lips.

“I was hoping we would be paired up together today.” Alexia sighed, sitting beside you, her leg bumping yours causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body.

“Oh really? You like me that much, do you?” You chuckled, leaning back on your arms and looking up at the sky.

“You have no idea.” Alexia whispered but it fell deaf on your ears.

Someone else walked up to the two of you, causing you to look away from the sky. Rachel appeared in front of you both, an apologetic smile on her face.

“Oh, hey Rach.” You smiled, standing up from your position.

“Hey, you two.” Rachel replied, but she didn’t look at you, so focused on Alexia, watching how the muscles in her arms tensed as she pushed herself up and off the floor - not that you noticed.

“How’s the first day as a physio been?” You asked, hoping to gain her attention but it was futile.

“It’s been great.” Rachel grinned, still not looking at you.

“So what brings you over here?” You questioned, using the bottom of your top to wipe away the sweat on your face.

“I’m here for Alexia, actually.” Rachel said, looking at the midfielder with a certain glint in her eye.

Whilst you wiped your face, you didn’t notice how Alexia wasn't focused on Rachel at all but she was looking at you and more specifically, your abs that glistened in the sunlight.

“Huh, I'll leave you two to it then.” You smiled, sending a wink to your best friend and walking away, trying to ignore how your heart panged with each step.

After you left the two there wasn't much else for you to do. So you headed for the showers to change out of your sweaty gear.

Some of the other girls were already in there but they soon left, leaving the showers to yourself. You didn’t want to spend too long, not wanting to keep Rachel waiting after she had finished with Alexia.

Stepping out of the showers, your body wrapped in a towel, you quickly walked to your kit bag to get changed.

You were about to unravel your towel when you heard someone cough from behind you. Turning around in one quick motion, you nearly gave yourself whiplash at the speed, you were met by a certain midfielder.

“Jesus, Ale.” You sighed, hand placed over your heart. “I thought you were with Rachel?”

“She just wanted to do a quick check up on my knee.” Alexia shrugged, taking a step towards you.

“Right,” you mumbled with a slow nod before turning back around to your bag. “We’re uh, actually going out for some coffee, or something, tomorrow and you should come.”

“For coffee or something?” Alexia teased, moving so she sat next to your bag.

“I mean, you don't have to come.” You replied, raising an eyebrow.

“No, no, I didn’t say that.” Alexia rushed out, her hands finding your waist.

You didn’t say anything, looking down at the midfielder, waiting to see if she realised what she had done. It took a few moments but she got there and removed her hands from your waist in record time.

“Lo siento. I didn’t-”

“It’s fine, Ale.” You chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “But I do need you to leave so I can get changed.”

“Oh! Right, well, I'll see you tomorrow?” Alexia said, the tips of her ears burning.

“I’ll send you the details. Now go you perv!” You smiled, chuckling as Alexia’s eyes widened before she ran out.

You shook your head, a smile forming on your lips at the woman but it quickly disappeared, remembering that you shouldn't be feeling that way about her.

Scolding yourself, you quickly got changed, packed your bags and made your way back to your car where Rachel was waiting for you. She sent a smile your way but you ignored it, rushing to put your bags in the car.

“You okay?” Rachel asked, raising an eyebrow at your actions.

“What? Yeah, yeah I'm fine.” You replied, getting into the driver's seat.

“You sure?” She questioned, getting into the car herself.

“Mhm.” You hummed, starting the car and reversing out of your spot. “Oh, before I forget, I invited Alexia to our little coffee thing tomorrow.”

“You what?!” Rachel exclaimed, making you turn your head to her for a split second before focusing back on driving.

“What? You like her, no?” You wondered, grip tightening a little on the steering wheel.

“Of course I do, I think the only person who doesnt is Alexia.” Rachel huffed, playing with her fingers.

“See, I'm helping you out.” You shrugged with a grin.

“And how are you helping me out exactly?”

“By being a wingwoman.”

“Brilliant.” Rachel muttered sarcastically causing you to lightly punch her arm.

“You’ll thank me when you’re married.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

The rest of the drive back to Rachel’s apartment was in silence, a comfortable silence, but you could feel a little tension though you weren’t sure what why. Pulling up in front of her place, she thanked you before walking into her building.

Sighing to yourself, you drove back to your house. Parking your car, you sat in your driveway, occasionally looking towards your phone before you decided to pick it up and message Alexia the address of the coffee shop.

Ale

Ah, so that’s where I'm meeting you tomorrow. I thought you’d forgotten about me

You

Why’s that? You know I could never

Ale

Took you an hour to message me the address

You

I had to take Rach home

Ale

Mhm, not second guessing inviting me were you?

You

Why would I do that?

Ale

No idea

You

Okay, good night Ale

Ale

Wait, what time do I have to be there for?

You

11?

Ale

Okay, I’ll see you then

You

Buenas noches, ale

Ale

Sleep well, Y/n

Turning your phone off, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and resting your head on the headrest, staring out in front of you.

Finally deciding to move, you grabbed your bag from the backseat and made your way into your house. You left your kit bag by the front door and slumped your way upstairs and into your room.

Quickly changing into your pyjamas, you did your nightly routine and went straight to sleep, not bothering to charge your phone and as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light.

You woke up to the morning light beaming onto your face, mentally cursing yourself for not shutting the blinds the night before. You rolled over, checking your phone for the time only to realise it was dead.

Groaning you plugged your phone in and got ready for the day. Finally getting dressed, you checked your phone once again, nearly screaming into the air as you realised the time was 10:58am.

Running around your house to find your shoes, you slipped them on before tumbling through the front door and into your car.

Driving a little over the speed limit, you managed to get to the coffee shop in record time. Finding somewhere to park, however, was another story. By the time you made it into the shop it was 11:24.

“Look who's finally decided to show up.” You heard from the side of you.

“I forgot to charge my phone.” You muttered, rubbing the back of your neck as you turned to see Rachel and Alexia sitting at a table together.

“Of course you did.” Alexia said, smiling behind her cup as she brought it to her lips to take a sip.

“Let me go order and I'll be right back.” You said sheepishly, before walking off.

You could hear a chuckle from behind you but you paid no attention to it. Ordering your favourite, you were back at the table in record time, thankful that the line wasn’t too long.

The three of you talked about anything and everything, you occasionally slipping out of the conversation to let Rachel talk to Alexia by herself.

Scrolling on your phone, you only looked up when a hand waved in front of your face. Seeing it was only you and Alexia at the table, you tilted your head confused.

“She went to the toilet.” Alexia said, knowing what you were wondering.

“Ah,” you said, nodding in understanding, “you okay?”

“I’m fine, you?” Alexia smiled.

“Good.”

“Are you doing anything later?” Alexia asked, her fingers tapping on the table.

“No, nothing really.” You replied, straightening your posture.

“Do you want to do something together?”

“Like what?” You wondered, resting your head on your hand.

“Not sure, maybe a movie?”

“Yeah, okay. Do you want to come round mine, or we could go out?”

“I’ll come to yours, if that’s okay. Then it could be just the two of us.”

“That’s fine.” You smiled, internally beaming. “It’s a date.”

Unbeknownst to you, your words caused butterflies to erupt in Alexia's stomach. Although you meant nothing by what you said, Alexia couldn’t help but feel a little hope.

“Hey, what have I missed?” Rachel questioned as she sat back down in her seat.

“Nothing, just talking about football.” Alexia replied, sending a small yet discrete smile in your direction.

“Boring.” Rachel huffed, leaning back on her chair. “I was hoping you’d be talking about me.”

Before you could stop yourself, a cough made its way up your throat, quickly covering it up with a smile.

“What’s so funny, y/n?” Rachel asked, tilting her head towards you.

“Wha- nothing. I promise.”

“Mhm, I better get going anyway.” Rachel smiled, standing up from her seat.

“Same here.” Alexia said, standing up as well.

“I guess that means me too.” You joked, getting up yourself.

“I’ll see you both soon.” Rachel said, giving the two of you hugs, Alexia’s lasting a little longer than yours.

“See you.” You smiled, fishing your car keys from your pocket.

After Rachel walked off to her car, you were left with Alexia. You stood beside the midfielder not knowing what to say, rocking backwards and forwards on your feet.

“What time do you want me to come over?” Alexia questioned, turning to face you.

“Any time, I don’t mind. I've just got to clean up a few bits.”

“Okay, how does six sound?”

“Good, yeah, I'll see you then.”

“See you later.” Alexia said, giving you a quick hug and a small kiss on your cheek before walking off.

Blushing profusely, you got to your car, quickly driving home. You went from cleaning the living room to cleaning the whole house, scared that even a miniscule thing could put Alexia off.

Going all out with the snacks, opting to place a variety on the coffee table as well as drinks, you felt that everything was okay, or at least, you hoped it was. Opening netflix on your tv you waited for Alexia.

You didn’t have to wait long and before you knew it, the doorbell rang, indicating that Alexia was here. You felt your heart rate increase knowing that you’d finally be spending some time with her alone.

In a friendly way, of course. Right?

Shaking your head, you scrambled yourself off the sofa, remembering that Alexia was waiting outside your door.

Opening the door to the catalonian, you smiled, noticing that she had changed her outfit from earlier on, opting for something more comfortable.

You opened the door wider, ushering her in and closing it behind her. The midfielder waited for you in the hallway, letting you guide her into your living room.

The two of you sat down on your sofa, a small gap between you as you played a random movie that was recommended to you by one of the girls from barca.

“You really went all out with the snacks.” Alexia chuckled, making herself comfortable, resting an arm over the back of the sofa.

“I couldn’t choose.” You mumbled with a shrug, leaning forward to pick up some crisps. “Want some?”

“These are my favourite, how’d you know?” Alexia questioned, taking a couple from the bowl.

“I had a hunch.”

“Oh really? Okay then.” Alexia said teasingly, moving a little closer to you, your thighs only mere inches apart from each other.

“Just watch the movie.” You said, huffing out a laugh and taking one of the crisps from her hand before popping it into your mouth.

“Hey! You have a whole bowl.” Alexia complained, slapping your arm and shaking her head at your antics.

“Sorry.” You replied with a grin, turning your attention back to the movie playing.

Alexia, however, kept her gaze on you. Long forgetting the movie, she watched every little thing you did, the way your eyes would widen at something one of the actors said or how you’d smile at the jokes.

You hadn’t noticed her gaze on you, completely focused on the movie and you were really enjoying it, until a sex scene came up. Shifting in your spot, Alexia noticed your discomfort.

She turned towards the tv and saw what was playing, lewd moans came from the speakers and it was as if the two of you were watching soft porn.

“You alright, y/n?” Alexia questioned, a small smirk displayed on her features.

“Mhm,” you hummed, eyes widening at the screen, “they’re really going at it, jesus.”

“Jealous?” She teased.

“What? No!” You exclaimed, turning your body towards the midfielder.

Only then did you realise the close proximity of the two of you. You could feel Alexia’s breath on your lips, her eyes staring into yours and your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest.

“You sure you’re okay?” Alexia asked again, this time a little quieter.

“Yeah, I’m just-”

“Turned on?”

You paused, contemplating your next words.

“Yeah.” You whispered, looking down at Alexia’s lips before trailing them back up to her eyes.

“Lean back.” Alexia ordered softly, pushing you gently against the sofa.

Your back hit the cushions, your head resting against the armrest. Alexia smiled, moving to hover over you. Her hair created curtains, blocking out the rest of the world as she looked deeply into your eyes.

“Is this okay?” She asked quietly, her lips hovering over yours. You nodded, not trusting your voice. “I need words, cariño.”

“Yes,” you whispered, “this is very much okay.”

“Then can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

You barely got to finish the word before her lips were on yours. Desperate and hungry. A silent understanding of how long the two of you had been wanting this.

As much as you were loving every second, your mind couldn't help but wander back to Rachel. Kissing Alexia didn't feel wrong, it was perfect, but you had a deep nagging feeling that you were betraying your best friend.

“Ale, I- I can’t-” You mumbled between kisses, but still pulled her in for more.

“Why not.” Alexia questioned, swiping her tongue against your bottom lip.

“What about Rachel?”

“What about Rachel? I don’t want her, I want you.” Alexia said, pushing her knee between your thighs causing you to involuntary roll your body.

“Shit, I-”

“Y/n?” A voice called out and you immediately stopped what you were doing. “What- Wow, unbelievable.”

“Wait no. Rach!” You said, pushing Alexia off your body.

“How’d she get in?” Alexia questioned, creating a little space between the two of you.

“I gave her a key, not important right now.” You said, waving Alexia off.

“I can’t believe you.” Rachel muttered, throwing her hands up in the air.

“I-” You started but Aleia cut in.

“Why are you acting like this? It’s not like you liked me?” Alexia questioned, confused at your best friend and ignoring you slap her arm in an attempt to get her to stop talking.

“You know what, you both deserve each other.” Rachel shouted, scoffing before storming out of your house.

“Rachel!” You said, chasing after her, leaving Alexia alone and confused on the sofa.

“Save it, y/l/n, I don't want to hear what excuse you come up with!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to see that.”

“Real classy, Y/n.” Rachel scoffed, shaking her head as she came to a stop on your driveway, finally turning to face you.

“No I didn’t mean it like that-”

“How did you mean it then, huh? You knew how much I liked her! You knew, and you go behind my back and do that, what a friend you are.”

“No, Rach. C’mon, please.” You pleaded, desperately trying to get her to listen to you

“No! You know what, we’re done. Don’t talk to me again.” Rachel said, pointing a finger at you.

You watched as she shook with anger and sadness, before she let out a sob and turned to run away again. This time you didn’t follow her, lowering your head in sorrow.

Walking back to your house, you stumbled into the living room, seeing Alexia still sitting on the sofa, looking down in her lap, fiddling with her hands.

“Hey! Y/n, what just happened?” Alexia questioned, standing up as she heard your footsteps get closer.

“I uh- I can’t do this Alexia.” You mumbled, tears brimming your eyes as you looked to the floor, folding your arms in front of your chest.

“Do what? Us? What do you mean?” Alexia wondered, walking closer to you, your bodies just inches away from each other.

She took your hands in hers, her fingers tracing delicate patterns. You felt yourself grow weak at the knees but suddenly pulled away from her hold.

“I just can’t, I'm sorry.” You said, ferociously wiping away a tear that fell before walking away.

“Y/n!” Alexia said, her voice breaking as she followed you through the house. Watching as you got in your car, seeing it pull off the driveway and disappear around the corner.

You were finally first, the girl shared the same feelings, yet you still managed to throw that away. Maybe you should stick to what you know. Being second best.

[jokeroutsubs]

📝ENG Translation: Elle Men Special: A Fashion Odyssey with Kris Guštin

Article written by Ajda Gregorc, published in the November/December 2024 ELLE Slovenia Magazine. Print and digital versions of the magazine are available for purchase.

Scans and English translation by @kurooscoffee, review by @weolucbasu and a member of JokerOutSubs, proofread by IG GBoleyn123.

Full article translation, scans, and Spotify link are under the cut 👇

🎧 Article available in audio form on Spotify.

Elle Men Special: A Fashion Odyssey with Kris Guštin

With Kris Guštin, the music author and guitarist of Joker Out, we escaped to another side of music, and with that, to his other passion. We talked about style and everything connected to it. There will also be no shortage of this in the band's third album, titled 'Souvenir Pop', which is released on the 15th of November—one week after the issue of Elle you’re holding now. How perfectly synchronised we are!

PHOTOS URŠA PREMIK, STYLING ALENKA BIRK

At Ljubljana’s Moderna Café, on a fresh but lovely autumn Tuesday, when everyone’s still at work or in school, he arrives in a dark green jacket with a checkered pattern, awesome trousers, and her necklace. This time, the menu is not serving music and life, but matcha and "all things fashion." I’m in a regular trench coat and a white T-shirt, but luckily he doesn’t judge people by their style—instead, the style might be what piques his interest to converse, if it's good, of course. Besides, he's the one being interviewed. So, let’s begin! AJDA GREGORC

Interviewer: When did you first discover your personal style or the field of fashion? Was it in childhood or a bit later?

Kris: I roughly divide my life into two periods: before I first held a guitar, and after. When I really got into playing and ventured into music, my world opened up in all areas. Discovering fashion definitely falls into this second period, so the post-high school era. To be completely honest, my style in high school wasn’t something I’m particularly proud of today. (laughs) My girlfriend and I still have a photo of me wearing cargo pants and a black sweater, which is a proof she truly loves me, since that look was far from the best choice. (laughs)

When did it evolve from just a aesthetic impression to self-expression?

My first contact with fashion as a form of art or expression was during our band's first music video or fashion shoot, when I realised that this is also something you need to consider as a musician. At first, it seemed to me like a fairly peripheral element, but as our career developed and we met new people who gave us more insight into this, I began to understand its significance, what I could personally gain from it, and what we as a band could gain. This quickly developed into standard practice. I was increasingly exposed to fashion; we had more and more costume rehearsals and stylings, and two years ago, we even got our first proper stylist. And then I really committed to it—at around nineteen or twenty. Before that, my philosophy was always to "just wear whatever I first find in the closet," but then I shifted to "I'll wear things that would make me stand out from others". But this process was a long one.

So, your style development with the band inspired your personal growth too? I’ve always wondered if a young person is compelled to mature in every area when so many 'big things' happen all at once, as they did for you.

Maybe you do "grow old" in terms of personality sooner. Yes, at first I wanted, and still want, to primarily express the difference or uniqueness that I feel inside myself through music, but then I discovered that this goes very much hand in hand with fashion, so I started looking for my expression there as well. Today, it's almost an equally important part of my day.

Which fashion ideas or directions attract you? You’ve probably encountered a lot of inspiration during your travels on tour, right?

Definitely, but speaking purely origin-wise, I think I’m just like any other rock musician—we draw from the rock aesthetic of the ’60s and ’70s, which was also very "in" when my fashion awareness was born. Back then, around 2016 to 2018, here were a lot of flamboyant shirts on the music scene, with a slight hippie influence, which was the starting point. Only later did I start getting interested in slightly more modern clothes. When I was younger, I found myself in street fashion, that sort of Eminem-esque, hip-hop vibe, so very baggy clothes, which I then began to reject when I made the shift toward the ’60s and a slightly psychedelic aesthetic. It makes perfect sense, as humans tend to jump between extremes. When I had worked through that style, I started discovering the aesthetics of the ’80s and late ’90s, which was also reflected in music at the time. The best example that comes to mind is Dua Lipa’s previous album, which was in the style of the “new ’80s,” and the fashion matched that as well. Today, the early 2000s style has come back, but I haven’t fully decided whether I like it or not. As a musician, I was, of course, initially inspired by other music groups. Arctic Monkeys were a big inspiration for us both musically and visually, as was the whole British rock scene, including bands like The Kooks and Oasis. That entire aesthetic has always been strongly present with us. I doubt there’s a single inspiration board at our shoots that doesn’t include a photo of one of those bands or, for instance, the Beatles. And that aesthetic has always been close to my heart, too.

Rockers have always been associated with more masculine fashion elements, while in recent years, many male musicians have been experimenting with more feminine style elements (for example, Harry Styles and Lenny Kravitz). David Bowie was already the one who back then started to blur these fashion boundaries. You, too, wear such pieces and dare to stand out with them.

It happened quite naturally, as the stylists we worked with always chose slightly more “unmanly” clothing for me. This doesn’t necessarily mean women’s clothing, but rather somewhat more androgynous pieces, which I quickly embraced. I found them interesting and appealing because there’s a lot of fresh expression in that style that I don’t find in traditional men’s clothing, though I don’t want to overdo it. I also started experimenting with them personally, choosing many more varied colours. For a while, I was very fond of pink, and lately, I’ve been playing around with orange. On the cover of the album 'Demoni', I wore an orange-pink sweater.

Are we, as an audience here, already mature enough for a musician to present his feminine side through fashion? Does that require courage?

It does, there will always be people who won’t understand you. But for me, when it comes to the stage or a shoot, I’ll wear anything, and if I feel good in it, I don’t worry about what someone thinks. When I walk around "in civilian clothes," however, especially in Ljubljana, I am still aware if I’m dressed somewhat "untraditionally." There’s a certain boundary that I still need to break within myself. On stage, it’s easier because it’s not necessarily a hundred percent my expression; I’m playing a certain character, but personally, sometimes I do need some courage to show up in a particular style. However, the awareness of being different is stronger in Ljubljana than in other parts of the Western world. For example, I never felt that way in London, but still, our capital isn’t the worst when it comes to this.

Speaking of influences, what about other artistic or cultural movements?

I love art deco, the aesthetics of the '20s and '30s, though it doesn’t influence my daily life. In terms of photography, Damon Baker’s black-and-white style is beautiful. The vintage camera aesthetic has recently won me over, which will also be reflected in our band. Musically, over the past year, I’ve been listening to old Italian chansons and older French music, chansons as well, so I’m clearly feeling very retro this year. (smile)

Will the third album visually stand out from the previous ones then?

Yes, it will be very different. In the last two, we used a lot of colours, but there won’t be as many in this one.

Style can be an excellent tool for expressing an artist's authenticity, but with increasing success, the artist can also become its slave; the line is thin. Do you ever feel the pressure of having to express your fashion style in your private life as well?

No, I’ve never felt like my style owns me; it’s always been the opposite. I’ve always felt like I want more, like I want to dress even better than the day before, especially when it comes to my music career. Perhaps style only hangs over my head a bit when I have no inspiration and would rather wear sweatpants on an ordinary, relaxed day. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, but then I do think about what would happen if I ended up somewhere in the middle of the city dressed like that.

It seems that Joker Out has developed a distinct style despite outside influences.

Yes, today we are already very complete in our style. Others have definitely had an influence on us, and I think it’s great that each of them tried to express themselves through us – it was interesting to experience how Joker Out was seen by Ponorelli, and how Andraž Drobnič or Karlo Kirri did. Of course, there is a difference in this, but it also aligns with the development of our music and aesthetics, so all these influences are very welcome.

How much of your personal fashion identity is therefore reflected in Joker Out?

Maybe, as someone who is not an external observer, I can't answer that, but I can say that I was always one of the first to give feedback to the stylist when we were creating our outfits, approving moodboards, and so on. So, I have definitely shaped our style in a direction that suits me. On certain "blind stylings," when we just dressed up, I quickly threw something on myself and then helped look for pieces for the other band members.

What about this photoshoot, where Alenka Birk took over the styling? Did you let her take the lead with her tactics, or did you collaborate on fashion choices? How did the communication go?

I didn’t know Alenka, who, by the way, is an excellent stylist, before. She was recommended by Urša (the photographer, ed.). Later, she confided in me that she had also worked with my father. Alenka focuses on elegant men's fashion, which is a departure from this more fluid fashion; and this suited me because I had never really been photographed in a men's suit, jacket, and tie. I wanted to try something new. I hadn’t seen the outfits before the day of the photoshoot when we met in her small studio in the morning. There were nine of them in total, and we only swapped out a piece or two in at most three of the looks.

This is more of an exception than a rule in fashion photoshoots. Does that mean you felt good in them?

Yes. In some more so, obviously, but in others, you have to trust the people you're working with. When I first look in the mirror, I always keep in mind that if something isn't optimal, it doesn't mean it won’t work well on camera. Even if the pants are too short or creased, it's still worth photographing them, because the photo can be edited later, whereas on stage, it's a different story, and everything has to already be perfect in the mirror. Working with Alenka was very simple; we clicked really well, and I will definitely work with her again.

How linked are your confidence and the way you feel on stage with your styling?

Very connected. As a musician, you want to enjoy yourself as much as possible on stage, and the people who come to listen to you and pay for the ticket deserve to see you at your best, which means you have to feel good in every aspect.

You recently attended Ljubljana Fashion Week. Which of the local fashion designers do you like to follow?

As far as the Slovenian fashion scene is concerned, I’m still quite the beginner, so I only knew the designers we had worked with. This was my first time visiting the Fashion Week.

Which shows did you watch?

On the first day, all of them. I didn’t like everything, but what stuck in my mind was Sarivalenci¹ with their somewhat "country club", Lana Del Rey vibe, and golf moment. I also really enjoyed the Belgrade Fashion Week, as there was an obvious Balkan touch, which I would love to see more of in Slovenia.

¹Sarivalenci is a Slovene high fashion brand created by fashion designer Sari Valenci.

You are a fan of vintage clothes and second-hand shops. What do these pieces have for you that new ones don't?

Honestly, I don’t know if there’s an objective explanation why. I started getting into it because it was popular, and at the same time, it gives you the feeling of getting a more unique piece. At the same time, you're shopping sustainably and not contributing to the production of unnecessary new textiles on Earth, which is great, but I would be lying if I said that’s my main motivation. What I like the most is the experience of "flipping" through clothes, where each piece is different, like a treasure hunt, compared to regular stores where you "flip" through the same clothes in different sizes.

Did your mum, who comes from the Netherlands where people have been aware of this for many years, introduce you to this concept?

I wouldn’t say we talked much about it at home, but I literally lived it. This is probably true for Slovenians in general – almost all the clothes I had as a child were from older peers, or I would take something from my dad, too. When I was done with wearing the clothes, my brother would wear them too. Every piece of clothing that came into our house was passed around, which is a great practice, and it’s still like that today. My sister "stole" half of my sweaters, my mum sometimes takes something too, Maks borrows jackets from my dad, which I’ve also done myself. It's like we all share one big closet! (laughs)

So you have influenced each other’s style in your family, or rather, you still do so? Who has otherwise had the most influence on your style in the past, and who does today?

I don’t remember ever looking at my parents as role models in this regard, as I didn’t really think about it back then, but they definitely influenced me, at least subconsciously. When I see how my mom dresses today, I see parallels with my own style, so she probably did influence me, perhaps more than my dad. As for street style, which I mentioned at the beginning, it might have been inherited from my uncle, my aunt’s husband from the Netherlands, who wore loose sweaters and listened to hip hop. My mum also had an uncle from the Indonesian side of the family, whom I never met, but he was very eccentric. Some of his clothes made their way to us over the years, and when I looked at these pieces in the closet, I was fascinated by how they reflected his personality. Asian fashion became a bit closer to me because of this, and I might even explore it someday.

The heart necklace you wear all the time, even today, is from your girlfriend. Do you ever dress your girlfriend or does she dress you?

My girlfriend is very fashion-oriented and has played a big role in my fashion development. She has always encouraged me when I tried new clothes that, at the time, seemed more radical to me. In this way, she partially shaped me. We also really enjoy shopping together. She dresses me more often than I dress her, which means I ask her for opinion. There have also been times when we’ve dressed the same when it comes to basic pieces; we’ve never really styled each other, but there will probably be time for that in the future.

Where do you like to go for vintage pieces in Ljubljana? Did you find any gems while on tour across Europe?

Textile House Vintage Shop is, in my opinion, by far the best in Ljubljana. The next one is Humana on Stritarjeva street, where I find something every now and then. Abroad, we’ve visited many vintage shops in Dublin, Paris, and London. In the latter, I always go to Brick Lane, which is a street with vintage shops in the east side of central London, where the more hipster area starts. The downside is that it quickly becomes quite an expensive experience.

What kind of information can you deduce about a person based on what they’re wearing? Who, in your opinion, is truly well-dressed?

A person’s style is never a reason not to engage in conversation with them, but it is a very strong stimulator of my interest in that person. If I think someone is really well-dressed, I automatically assume they might think similarly to me and be interested in the same artistic, musical, or visual directions, so I’m more eager to talk to them. However, I’ve often met people who didn’t seem interestingly dressed, and later realised they were amazing people, even if they dressed completely casually.

Your audience expresses itself very differently in terms of fashion, as your parents also mentioned in a recent interview for Elle. How do you as a band perceive this?

Yes, what they meant was that it is no longer the case that you have to be "appropriately" dressed for a rock concert. When we observe the audience from the stage, I would say that the most typical thing for our time is that we are no longer genre-bound. Not just musically, but also in terms of fashion. 30 or 40 years ago, you would see people at a rock concert in leather jackets, black shoes, and jeans, and that was it. Today, you have flamboyant outfits with blue and green hair in one corner, gothic style in another, and of course, people in simple t-shirts and pants somewhere in the middle. And no one feels like they don’t belong; everyone sings our songs, and that’s really nice.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

❗Please do not repost without credit, and if you quote, please link back to this post!

[cripplecharacters]

I have a character who is nonverbal, intellectually disabled, and uses an AAC device. I'm wondering how I would write down her inner thoughts and monologue? Would she think in full English sentences, in AAC symbols, or something else?

Hi asker,

I will start off by letting you know that there is no single definitive answer for this, but I still have thoughts and ideas.

So, as for the question of would she think in AAC symbols or English sentences, that really depends on your character. It could be either.

Some nonverbal people, but not all, don't think in words at all, but more in images or associations, so this could be the case of your character and might even be part of why they are nonverbal and need AAC. (Some people who aren't nonverbal also don't think in words either, but your character is, so that's what I'll focus on here!)

Your character could also think in words. They might think entirely in words, or partly. They might think in what you would think of as more 'standard' English sentences, or maybe more simplified sentences.

For example, it's common for people with ID to use simpler syntax and/or less abstract language. But language abilities are a wide range, and this can extend to AAC usage. Some people might use more complex sentences, while some might might only be able to use two words in a sentence. Some people might get the hang of pronouns, and some might not. Some people might get the hang of conjugating verbs, some might not. Some people speak more slowly or with more pauses. You have a lot of leeway in how to conceptualize your character's thoughts.

I want to add one thing: a lot of ways that people with ID people can speak are used to make fun of people. Slower speech, simple sentences, not conjugating some words, stuff like that. If you include this, you have to take care to make sure that the message you’re sending by including them is “some people just talk like this” and not “isn’t it so funny/weird/gross/weird that some people talk this way? Let’s make fun of it/focus on how weird and different (derogatory) it is”.

However, the limitations of a written medium is that at the end of the day you will in fact have to use words to write what is going on in her brain, even if she doesn't think in words.

So I would say: focus on figuring out how your character manages language, since there’s many different ways they can, and then once you decide that it might be easier to figure out exactly how to write them. Mod sasza has even more points below!

Hope this helps,

mod sparrow

Hi, I'd consider how your character learned language. If her first exposure was a symbol-based AAC device, there's a higher chance she'd think in AAC symbols than if she first communicated via sign language or anything else that's not a symbol-based AAC device.

I'm fully verbal and actually mostly think in associations and other non-language ways like pictures (though when I'm imagining things like an actual conversation, I do use language). That's why for me and a lot of other people with ID (verbal or not) it can take longer to think of what to say; you need to translate your thoughts to language first.

With your character having much more severe language disability than me, I'd guess that she either used very simple sentence construction or that you'd have to describe her thoughts in a less direct manner (associations or visuals), which will be more time-consuming to write and more cryptic to readers (which makes it realistic, communication with people with significant language problems takes longer, if mind reading was real it would apply to it too).

You should definitely consider the things mentioned by Sparrow; whether she understands pronouns, conjugation, can she differentiate similar words correctly (e.g., love/like, handsome/pretty), etc.

Depending on her level of ID, she might think "I'm hungry" as anything between "Damn, I wish I was eating a burger right now" (complete English sentence) through "Yes food" (in which "yes" means positive rather than agreeing with someone) or "Images of her home kitchen flashed through her head" (simply associating kitchen with the feeling of hunger), to "Two symbols from her board; one meaning 'me' with the second showing an empty plate, went through her mind over and over". There is a big difference between a person with mild ID who might be unable to speak because they can't coordinate their mouth to make actual words but don't struggle with grammar at all, and a person with a profound ID whose entire AAC board is "yes" and "no" (or not even that, but I wanted an example to show what could be someone's existing-but-very-limited language ability).

Obviously some of these are more clunky, some are less so. But the way a lot of nonverbal ID people communicate isn't perfectly clear and direct, and there is a lot of variety in the manner that it shows.

I also wrote this post about speech in intellectual disability that you might find useful. I hope this helps !

mod Sasza

[mikimakiboo]

Time Travelers AU - Chess and Feelings

Just so ya'll know I have like four to five tabs constantly opened just for the translations and historical info

And also I found a better site for Old Norse lmao so Horror won't be speaking in runes anymore hopefully unless I can't find translations and there is only runes available

Also I don't know how phrases are constructed in Old Norse so I just take the English and translate word by word

But yeah I'll make it work lmaoo

First

Prev

Next

Also I actually wanted to write more but it's taking long because I'm inexplicably tired so I decided to cut the part here so ya'll don't have to wait too long :') so yeah excuse the shortness

@ancha-aus pspspsps come here pspspsps

There was a V on today's date on the calendar. V for vacation. Dust had vacations this month, and he completely forgot about that. He should have guessed it, he usually never had a day off on a Saturday unless he was on vacation the next week, and vacations meant being paid less, which also meant he'll need to buy less to save more because the bills would be the same price, which also meant that what he was going to buy now would have to be his last spent of the month.

He had found an English to Old Norse dictionary on one of his town's bookstore website and if he bought it online now he could go get it from the store the next morning.

Dust was staring at his computer screen when he heard Horror sit next to him.

- Hvat ir sá ?

He asked, pointing to the screen. Dust wondered for a second if he was talking about the computer or the dictionary, having guessed that the viking asked what it was with his tone.

- It's, uh... to understand you ? Uh.. wait.

He went back on his other tab, and typed "to understand" before translating. "vita".

Horror nodded, he didn't know how an image was going to help Dust understand anything but he guessed it might be a sort of sacred thing that Dust could look at and receive answers, maybe it was from the gods ?

- You, uh.. wanna do something ?

Dust asked. Everyone was occupied: Cross was as usual guarding the door, Nightmare was reading a new book on the tablet, and Dust had found his old kaleidoscope he gave to Killer and that he hadn't let go off yet, the only one not doing anything was Horror.

Horror looked at him, and looked at the computer, waiting for Dust to translate. He didn't know what that thing was, but Dust could make it talk his language. Dust tried different words to have the best translation possible. "Tafl, háttr, tefla", "game, activity, play". Horror nodded and pointed at "game", he could play games, he was good at table games.

- Okay uhhhh wait a sec.

Dust went back on Google to look for the kind of games vikings used to play, and apparently they played chess, their own version of chess of course, it was called hnefatafl and was played by two people, fortunately the game became popular enough to be commercialized in Dust's time, which meant he could easily find the rules as well as apps to play.

- Okay wait, I'll grab my iPad it'll be easier than on the computer.

He said as he got up and quickly left to go in his room, looking through his nightstand to find his old iPad with a cracked screen. He turned it on and installed the app on his way back to the table where Horror was waiting for him. He put the tablet down on the table, between the two of them, with the rules on his computer.

Horror looked at it curiously, recognizing one of his favorite games, but finding the board quite weird. Was it how boards looked like at that time or was it another magical device of Dust that could replicate board games ?

- Oookay, so uh.. you have to touch the screen to make the pieces move.

Dust showed him by moving his first piece. Horror looked at it for a while before slowly pressing a finger on the screen and dragging it to where he wanted his piece to go, and to his surprise, it went there. He smiled as he looked at Dust, proud to be able to make the magical device follow his orders. Dust smiled back.

- Cool, so, uh, my turn I guess.. ?

He checked the rules again, and moved his piece. Horror moved his after him, and the two could soon enjoy a nice game of ancient chess, not aware that they were being watched.

Cross was looking at them, or more precisely he was looking at Dust, his words running in his head over and over again: Dust thought he was doing a good job, he smiled at him and told him he did good ! Was he proud ? He wanted him to be proud, he wanted to make someone proud for once, he knew he wasn't the best knight, he was too emotional, too anxious, he talked either too much or not enough, he was even one of the very few knights who didn't come for a noble family, so having someone tell him he did good and smile at him brought so much warmth in his soul. Dust was nice, he welcomed them in his house, made great efforts to communicate with all of them, he was so smart, and he didn't let himself succumb to panic or despair, he didn't think twice before making them come inside his house. He was impressive. Cross... admired him.

He wanted to talk to him but he didn't know how, as he had to stay by the door in case someone broke in and even then he shouldn't be distracted from his work by chatting, so he looked at him from afar, he watched him play some game with Horror. Horror seemed nice too, he looked strong but he wasn't aggressive, Cross could tell he perfectly controlled his strength, he was rather calm. He was warry of him at first, but the viking never showed any signs of being a threat. As for Killer... he couldn't quite tell what Killer wanted. The way the roman often looked at him with his big wide empty sockets always sent chills all along his spine, how he often checked his blades in the moonlight, but he didn't seem to want to attack and looked more curious about his surroundings than anything. Nightmare of course wasn't a threat, it was clear he was a noble and took too much care of his appearance to engage in a fight, and even so Cross wasn't even sure he knew how to fight, at least not in a real fight. None of them seemed dangerous, but Cross still had to be prepared, and so he couldn't lower his guard to go and talk to Dust even though he quite wanted to. He had to stay here and watch, that was his job, and hopefully if he did it good then Dust would smile at him again...

- Damn you're good.

Dust admitted to Horror, having lost three times in a row against him, but he still put on a good fight, he was really close to winning !

Horror smiled, Dust was a strong opponent, he liked playing with him, he liked the simple fact that he choose something from his culture, that he tried so hard to integrate him, he really was a nice guy. He gave him a pat on the shoulder, with much less strength than the previous night, he didn't want to launch him across the table after all.

They looked at each other for a minute before Dust got up.

- I, uh.. I'll make food, uhh... matr.. ?

He tried hesitantly before relaxing when seeing Horror smile and nod at him, he felt quite proud of himself for catching a few words.

- Cool, so uh.. I'll go.

He quickly went to the kitchen. He hated how awkward he sounded all the time, and it seemed to be stronger around Horror, probably because he couldn't use the vocal command with him and had to look on specific sites, so he actually had to search for the correct translations and he was always afraid he would say something totally incorrect or possibly rude, but so far Horror only smiled at him and gave him time to find his words... he really wanted to do good for him, to at least try to establish some amical bond with one of them, in case they would stay in his apartment for a while...

It would be good to have a friend in this mess.

Really good.

[lilibrownlabonita]

Last nigth- Old Logan Howlett x reader

Summary: Logan needs to take three would-be bridesmaids and a bride to a bachelorette party.

Warning: oral (woman receiving), vaginal penetration, infidelity, casual sex and no commitment (notice for those excited, like me).

Rating: +18

Work count: probably more than 13k characters.

A/n: I'm rusty since I haven't written in months, and I used the translator, since English is not my native language, sorry for any spelling mistakes.

That night was cold and it froze Logan's tired body. It's the last race, he mentally repeated to himself, one more trip and he could go home.

The car stopped in front of a large house and then four young women appeared, well dressed and made up, among them a bride, or at least one wearing a wedding dress. Logan snorted, wondering who had come up with the idea of getting married on such a cold night, but that was none of his business, on the bright side, they had paid him well. The four young women fell silent and decided on a destination. Logan nodded without saying anything and started driving, the passengers generally not wanting to talk to him.

During the journey, he listened to the little plans they had made for the evening, and it wasn't an evening wedding as he had initially thought, it was a bachelorette party. How times have changed, he thought. He watched the four of them laugh and start to drink the sparkling wine they had brought in their bags, at least they had asked if they could drink it in their car before opening the bottles. What he hadn't expected was that two sparkling wines could intoxicate four people so quickly. He allowed himself to laugh as he saw, through the rear-view mirror, the bride babbling and giggling with complete nonchalance.

They were only a few minutes away from their chosen destination, a nightclub that apparently only welcomed women. As Logan told them they were nearing the venue, he heard one of the supposed fiancée's friends question how they were going to get home, as they were probably too drunk to find a driver. He looked in the rearview mirror again and saw that bride looking back at him.

"Can you wait for us for a few hours? We can pay for the ride back to the same place we left from and also for the wait." The bride said as she stared at him through the rearview mirror.

He didn't want to keep driving for the rest of the night and needed to get some rest. They might have been drunk, but they didn't seem to be as much of a problem as the drunken men he encountered in the early hours of the morning when he needed to drive longer to reach the day's goal.

"All right, I'll wait outside, when you've finished I'll take you back."

He parked the car in front of the nightclub and watched as the four women got out, laughing and tripping over their own feet. The bride got out of the car last with the help of one of her friends and probably her godmother. When he realized that they had entered the nightclub, he snuggled into the back seat, closed his eyes and tried to sleep. Over time, his body could no longer cope with long hours without sleep, he felt more and more tired and took every minute to rest.

Minutes passed and Logan couldn't sleep, he sat up and wiped his hands across his face. Maybe he should have a smoke. With a cheap cigar in his hand, he got out of the car and lit it.

Logan could see the movement inside the nightclub through the glass windows, bright colored lights, loud music probably composed by Britney Spears, half-naked men on a small stage and women dancing around. He wasn't supposed to, it wasn't part of his job to be the bouncer, but he looked for the bride with his gaze and couldn't find her.

Several more minutes passed and the bride came out of the nightclub, her long dress swaying with every step, her small veil just covering her hair, which was loose and decorated with a few small flowers, maybe clips or something, Logan thought.

"Is your party over?"

"No, I just wanted to get some fresh air." The bride said, approaching the car where Logan was leaning against.

"I can put out my cigar if you like."

"You don't have to do that, actually, I'd like to have a smoke, do you have another one?"

She didn't seem to be the type who liked cigars, not that Logan thought women shouldn't smoke, he'd had his share of cigarettes for a lifetime, he wasn't anyone to tell her what she could or couldn't do, but it surprised him that someone like her smoked.

"Are you sure? You don't look like you could stand a bit of sparkling wine, I don't want to make you sick with a cigar."

"Don't be silly, it's just a cigar, by the way, I'm not resistant to alcohol because I'm not used to drinking."

"Got it."

Silence fell between them, Logan didn't seem convinced, the woman stared at him, but he didn't seem to care.

"Please...?"

"I don't have another cigar." He lied.

"Well, then I can smoke some of yours."

"You're not going to smoke my cigar."

"Why?"

Logan snorted and stared at her.

"Are you always so grumpy?"

"I'm not a grouch."

"Well, you seem to be, you're also very quiet."

"Passengers don't usually want to talk."

"But I do."

"Why?"

"I don't have much to do right now, my bridesmaids are having fun and I don't want to get in the way, all I can do is stay here."

"You can go back to your bachelorette party and stay there."

"I don't want to go back into that club, I don't like the noise."

"Then why did you decide to have a bachelorette party?"

"It wasn't my idea, my friends thought it would be fun and I just agreed."

Again, they both fell silent.

A strong wind hit them and the bride tried to cover herself with her arms, her long dress swayed and she grimaced as she felt the cold.

Logan stretched out his hand and offered her his cigar, he didn't look at her.

"Have a smoke, it'll warm you up."

Without question, she took the cigar and puffed. Looking around, she wondered why she had agreed to be there.

"When will it be?"

"What?"

"Your wedding, when is it happening?"

"In a few days, two nights to be exact."

She approached and tried to return the cigar, but he denied it.

"No, throw it away, get in the car if you want, the wind might give you the flu."

The bride threw the cigar on the ground and stomped on it with her golden heels, opened the car door and got in.

"Aren't you getting in with me?" She asked when she saw Logan closing the door.

"No, I'm fine out here."

"You're lying, you're probably more likely to get sick than I am."

Logan glared at her through the glass.

"Why?"

"Because you're old."

"No, I'm not." He knew he was, but he didn't want her to think he was that old.

"I didn't mean to offend you, I just don't want you to get tired in the cold."

Grumpy, or at least pretending to be grumpy, Logan got into the car and sat down next to her.

"Do you think your friends will stay long?"

"Why? Do you want to get rid of me?"

"No, I just thought they'd notice you were gone and go back to the car."

"They're having too much fun to notice my absence."

Logan shut up and felt the fiancée's gaze on him. He tried to ignore her presence, tried to ignore the scent emanating from her body and pleasing his nostrils.

"Are you married?"

His eyes widened, married? Logan had never imagined himself married, least of all now.

"Why are you asking?"

"Curiosity."

"I'm not married."

"You didn't get married because you didn't want to or because you couldn't?"

"Maybe I'm too old for that."

"You're old, but you're handsome, I think someone would want to marry you."

He didn't know what to say, except to stay silent and wonder if he'd heard wrong or if she'd really called him handsome, cheeky girl, he thought.

"Sorry, did I make you shy?" She smiled.

He rolled his eyes at her and snorted, smiling that she was toying with him.

"Do you think I'm lying?"

"No." He lied.

"I can prove that I'm not lying if I want to." He's so petty, she told herself.

"You don't have to prove anything to me."

"But I want to."

"Well, how do you intend to do that?" He stared at her.

"Kiss me." She didn't know exactly why she wanted to kiss that stranger, maybe it was his bitter, sad face that attracted her, but either way, she certainly didn't care about the consequences, it was her bachelorette party.

If he was smoking, he'd probably choke on the smoke.

"What?" He stared at her.

"I said I want you to kiss me."

"No, not at all."

"Don't you think I'm pretty?" She said, resting her head on the bench and blinking her eyes at him.

"It's not that."

"So, what? Is it because I'm getting married?" She asked and saw him turning to her, so that was it, she thought.

"No, it's not that."

"Well, anyway, my fiancé doesn't care what I do if wants to know."

"Then why are you getting married?"

"Long story."

Maybe she didn't trust him enough to tell him her story with her future husband, but it didn't matter, he wanted to kiss that woman in her wedding dress, he needed to feel good, it had been a long time since he had felt someone else's skin against his, always having to look after Charles and his friend, there was no time left for himself.

"Are you going to kiss me or not?"

"Do you always look for unknown men to kiss?"

"Only when they're old and beautiful." She smiled, her red lipstick decorating her lips well, making them look so kissable.

"Besides, it's my bachelorette party, I think I deserve a kiss." She was right, so young, probably getting married and maintaining a married life for years just to please her family.

Logan didn't say anything, he just slowly approached the fiancée, her breath hitched against his skin and he finally pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was slow, but Logan didn't complain. It was nice to feel that time had stopped and that he didn't need to rush.

It took a few seconds for them to pull away, they both stared at each other, suddenly that chill disappeared, maybe it was because they were inside the car and all the car windows were locked or maybe it was because that kiss made them sweat and gasp.

"Do you want to kiss me again?" She asked as the two of them looked at each other as if they had been in love for years, as if he were her fiancé and this were their honeymoon. Of course not, but she liked to think and imagine that yes, that sad stranger was her future husband.

Logan just nodded and kissed her again. This time, he was more daring, more intense, he held her by the back of the neck so that she wouldn't run away from him, so that she would kiss him harder. Their tongues touched several times, and occasionally they let out little moans, as if they were having sex, even though they were both still fully clothed. That's it, Logan thought, they were still dressed.

"Let's stop here."

"Why?" she asked, blushing and with her red mouth stained by smeared lipstick, Logan didn't look at her.

"I don't want to cross the line."

The bride realized what he meant, smiled and moved closer to him, touched the stranger's tired, stiff shoulders and whispered in his ear.

"I want to fuck you in this car."

"You don't know what you're saying, you're drunk." He said, his voice thick and hoarse due to his dry throat, perhaps he was missing that woman's saliva.

"I'm not drunk, I've had nothing but those sparkling wines and I'm sure the little alcohol has already gone from my digestive system."

"You don't even know my name, you don't know me and you're getting married, I don't want you to regret what you're doing."

"I won't regret it, anyway, you don't have to care about that. Why don't you tell me your name and we'll kiss again?" He finally looked at her again, stared at her for a few seconds and sighed.

"Logan."

She smiled.

Soon he was on top of that fiancée again, his mouth pressed against hers, his rough, large hands gripping her waist tightly, as if at any moment she would escape.

In the midst of the kisses, she slowly pushed off her suit, then her shirt, and finally, with difficulty, her tank top. Logan mentally thanked the lack of lighting in the car, he didn't want to answer any questions about his bruises and cuts.

Need coursed through Logan's old veins, and despite his age, he still had a sharp nose. The smell of that fiancée's wet pussy was driving him crazy, his throat was dry again, he wanted to taste her wetness, before his cock burned with the amount of hot blood that centered on his cock. He stood up and helped her wrap her dress around her waist. The voluminous dress irritated him, but he couldn't deny how beautiful it looked on her. When Logan knelt down, he saw the sheen of moisture running down her thighs, a pity that the lack of lighting didn't let him see all of that pussy, and his vision wasn't the best.

He approached her thighs and kissed them, feeling her lubrication on his lips, he moaned and licked, every drop that ran down her crotch was consumed by Logan's tongue, when he was satisfied with his work he tried to catch the fiancée's gaze and faced her, his tongue slowly came out of his mouth and licked her wet pussy, he heard her moan and close her eyes tightly, her thighs tightened around his head, Logan moved his tongue up and down, trying to feel her pussy on his tongue, moaning and grunting he closed his lips around her small clit and sucked, the woman screamed and held Logan's grey tufts tightly pushing him against her pussy, he tried to memorize the image of that woman in his head, he knew he would hardly find anyone as beautiful as her now, he licked her again and kept the image of her biting her lower lip, his tongue positioned itself against her small wet hole and she looked at him and nodded repeatedly, Logan began to penetrate her pussy with his tongue, in, out, in, out, the bride whimpered and squirmed as she came.

She could see his gray beard wet as he stood up and approached to kiss her lips again. His nails lightly scratched the skin of her large back, and he hurried to undo his belt.

He didn't bother taking off his pants, just unzipped them and pulled his thick cock out of his underwear. Logan looked at her as he rubbed the tip of his cock against her wet pussy. Seeing her eyebrows draw together and her eyes close, he smiled and positioned his member against her wet hole. He felt that little hole sucking him in and moaned loudly as he pushed his entire length inside.

"Fuck, baby, you're going to kill me." He said as he felt his cock being squeezed hard by her.

The bride moaned and pushed her hips against Logan's, trying to feel him more deeply. He understood what she was trying to do and began to slowly thrust his hips against her, his cock entering her pussy and coming out wetter and wetter, the gray hairs on Logan's groin stained with her lubrication, a few seconds later he couldn't stand being so slow.

Logan's mind clouded over as he tried to concentrate on the speed of her hips, moving further and further away from consciousness and closer to the sensation that coursed through the veins of his cock and up into his brain. His breathing became shaky and the muffled smell of sex in the limousine made him lose control. His hips thrust harder against her pussy, soon the impact was no longer enough, he thrust his hips faster, she scratched him and moaned in his ear.

"Logan, Logan, Logan." She whimpered, spreading her legs as wide as she could.

Logan's eyes rolled back and closed, the only thing he could feel were nails in his back, his cock going in and out of that wet, hot hole, in, out, in, out, in... out..., the loud moans in his ear and the need to come inside that womb coursing through his veins. He knew he was close to cumming, and he felt that pussy squeezing him tighter and tighter, she was close too.

"Come for me, baby, squeeze my cock and come around it." He said, looking at her, who had a red face and mascara smeared around her eyes. The veil was still firmly in place in her hair, even though he was thrusting his cock hard enough to rock her body with every thrust.

"Come on, baby, get my cock wet, squeeze me hard... I'm close." Logan's voice sounded thicker and needier, the bride found it so exciting, an old man who was almost crying to have his cock squeezed.

"Will you come inside me? Please?" She moaned, she knew it would drive him crazy.

"Fuck yes, I'm going to come in that pussy, I'm going to fill you up, squeeze me tight, I know you want my cum, baby." He felt that at any moment his cock was going to explode inside that hot wetness, his balls were heavy and he needed to come inside her or he would go crazy, Logan pushed his member against her until he felt his balls slap against his fiancée's cute ass, he felt like he could die at any moment.

The two of them looked at each other and saw the lust in their eyes, they kissed and continued thrusting their hips against each other. The bride's legs trembled and wrapped around him, her pussy clenched around Logan's member and he felt her cum spreading over his member. Logan penetrated her with difficulty and emptied himself inside her, grunting in her ear.

Neither of them moved or said anything, they just snuggled with Logan inside, just a few minutes they both thought, they needed to get some rest.

Unfortunately, neither of them planned to sleep, but they both woke up to laughter outside the limousine, heels tapping with every step the three bridesmaids took and whispers about the bride's whereabouts.

During the journey home, neither the bride nor the driver looked at each other or said anything, nor did they comment on the smudged make-up or the suit that had only a white tank top underneath instead of a shirt. Luckily, the three bridesmaids were too drunk to notice the details.

When the car stopped in front of that house again, the bride and her friends got out of the car. The payment was made by one of the drunk women who also gave Logan a fat tip, he thanked her and drove away from the place. He knew it was nothing more than a bachelorette party, he was too old and had too complicated a life to offer that bride another ride.

[insolentgod]

⚠️Attention:⚠️ very long post. It talks a little about: state of lack, take your desire off the pedestal, time it takes for a manifestation, get distracted about your manifestation , self-concept, and Cassies

one more night high and having crazy epiphanies about manifestations. and another day using a translator to translate my text to post here, because I haven't claimed to be fluent in English yet 😛 So, as I always warn, if there are possible grammatical errors, it's for this reason.

I'm here to bring you an analogy I created while discussing with a friend haha. (Yes, this time there's nothing about lana del rey!)

you know those people who humiliate themselves for others? Who do everything for someone specific to love them, try to talk to them even if it's unhealthy, or beg them to stay in their lives. (yes, it's quite depressing and sad)

i haven't been like that much in life, usually when someone didn't care about me, i cared even less about them. but I won't lie, there have been situations where I may have humiliated myself a little, but it's human.

anyway, going straight to my analogy, let's imagine that you struggling to manifest something is a friend "Cassie," and the manifestation will be her ex-boyfriend, okay? (i swear it will make sense in the end)

what I write outside the parentheses is Cassie's situation, and what's inside the parentheses is possibly the situation you're going through on your manifestation journey.

okay, you have this friend Cassie who keeps saying that her ex-boyfriend doesn't care about her, doesn't respond to messages, and shows no signs, and she's going crazy and desperate about it (just like you when you see no progress in your manifestation). so she does EVERYTHING to get him back (just like you when you try multiple methods non-stop and feel needy). and as Cassie's friend, you think, "poor cassie, she doesn't deserve to suffer like this" (and she really doesn't deserve it, just as you don't deserve to suffer for your manifestations). there are also moments when she sends a message for you saying, "I'll forget him this time, I promise." but after two days, she's there messaging him again (just like you affirm on the first day all motivated and trying to convince yourself that this time your manifestation will come true, but after a few days, you see no progress and start panicking), and then she gets very sad because she thinks they will never get back together and she will never be happy with him again (just like you think you can't manifest anything, that the universe hates you, that you will never get what you want, that the loa doesn't work). But meanwhile, there are other people out there getting back with their exes and you admire them, wondering what it would be like if it were you... (just like when you look at other people's success stories and think "why can't I do it?") spoiler: You can do it too, honey. If everyone else can do it, so can you. Wake up.

If I were Cassie's friend, I would tell her to STOP acting like that and start valuing herself and just distract herself. because let's be honest, men ALWAYS come back, right? 🤣 and many people may disagree with me on this and think that if she doesn't chase after the guy, he won't come either. but that's how it works for me, even before I started using the law. every time I started valuing myself and stopped begging for others' love, the person came to me. so let's agree with my thinking on this, okay?

and one more point that I think is worth mentioning is that if Cassie really doesn't want to do this alone, maybe a manifestation coach would be a good idea (if it were a real situation, I would suggest her to seek a therapist). There are nuances about "manifestation coaches," I honestly don't use them and I recommend working on your self-concept. but it's an option if you want, but please do thorough research and find a trustworthy one.

returning, what can you do to not be another Cassie? I'm telling you to stop doing whatever you're doing to try to achieve your desire? no. just get out of the state of neediness and desperation, like a Cassie. you don't need that, my love. you don't need to worry, "Is my manifestation coming?" You don't need to use a thousand methods because you don't think it's enough. whatever you believe will bring your desires, will indeed bring your desire. If you believe that jumping three times, building a castle, and kicking an elderly person will give you what you want, guess what? If you do all that, then you will get what you desire. and if you believe that affirming once in your life will get you a beachfront mansion, guess what? you will achieve that.

so, to not be a Cassie:

1 - trust what you're saying, please trust yourself. nnow that ONLY WHAT YOU THINK is the truth, and it will be. (my last long post talks about this exactly, I highly recommend it, okay).

2 - take your desire off the pedestal. your desire may be your biggest dream in life, I don't care. take it off the pedestal. the powerful person who can have anything they want is YOU, not your desire. tou are a thousand times greater than your desire. you don't chase after your desire, your desire chases after you. you know when manifestation coaches tell you to start manifesting just a blue butterfly or a candy? well, it's because for you, that's not difficult. It's something you find easy to manifest and know it's totally possible to have. but you can literally manifest a Porsche at the same speed as manifesting an ice cream, okay? take your desire off the pedestal; you are fully capable of having it.

3 - get out of the state of lack. In the law of assumption, some people talk a lot about states and some manifest just by being in the state of the wish fulfilled and ready, they succeed. but the state of lack is literally when you feel the lack, the absence of your desire. you don't feel like you have it or you don't feel worthy of it, so you probably fall into a spiral of despair with millions of thoughts like "what will I do if I don't achieve it?" "I don't see any progress" "time is passing and I don't have my results". Anyway,

- But what do I do to heal my state of lack?

just don't be in it 💐💐💐 yes, it's easy, okay. please believe that it's easy and it will be. I know it's very easy to affirm when you're motivated, especially after reading a success story. but motivation doesn't last forever and I don't think it's healthy for you to keep restoring your motivation by reading success stories all the time. there's nothing wrong with it, but you don't need success stories to heal. every time you feel like you're entering the state of lack, start trusting yourself. when it happens to me, I start affirming "none of this, I have my desires" "I don't care about what my 3D shows me" "I have what I want", I also imagine myself with my desire as if I really have it now. I'll admit, there are times when I start affirming this to avoid entering the state of lack and at first it feels like I'm feeling wrong, the feeling of hopelessness even. but regardless of how I feel, I keep visualizing and eventually start feeling strong and motivated again. in those moments, you have to be strong and disciplined with yourself, okay? you can do it.

4 - try not to care about time or the 3D reality. i know it's difficult, but please live in your imagination and believe that if you have it in your imagination, you have it now. about time, it depends, okay? Some people manifest in seconds because they believe they can, while others manifest in weeks because they think it takes weeks. if you're the second type of person, you can definitely manifest in seconds if you allow yourself to do so. self-concept affirmations help a lot in this aspect. Just don't worry about time in the 3D reality. If you know that in your mind you have your desire NOW, then you have it now. once you're fully living in your imagination, it will come in the 3D reality. I know it's difficult, but just trust yourself and your mind. I promise that if you live 100% in your mind, your desire can come very quickly.

5 - distract yourself! don't spend the whole day thinking about your desire. usually, the desire comes when you accept that you have it and continue living your life. I know it's complicated, especially when it's something you want, but distract yourself to avoid excessive and negative thoughts about your manifestations. and please get off tumblr for a while

6 - improve your self-concept, please. Just do that, and your manifestation journey will be much easier.

I think that's it for today. I talked a lot as always 😛😛

I usually don't respond to people asking for help here on my blog (mainly because I don't receive any requests) but if you're having problems, you can send me a message, and I'll respond ❤‍🩹 I just want to help someone like loa bloggers helped me when I needed it. good night everyone, and stay hydrated.

[writingwisterias]

(I don't speak English, I trust Google Translate, please don't treat me badly like other writers 😔) Seeing that on your list, Piers and Jake are very empty, and I don't know if you can do this type of writing where each character reacts to X situation.

In this case I would like to know the reaction of Piers, Jake and Chris (Leon optional) if Reader gets her period in public, in case it is uncomfortable for you to write that, maybe a simple writing of the RE guys reacting reader snuggling tightly against them and hiding her face in the middle of their chest

If you don't know how to write everyone's reaction, I'm fine with just Chris (my favorite) I hope you pay attention, if not, that's fine, thank you.

Thank you the request! I trust google translate too so don't worry I have to use to talk to some of my non english speaking coworkers! I hope you enjoy this! ~ Mads <3 (Not proof read)

Warning: Periods, Cramps, Blood, Period accidents in public, Comfort

Masterlist

Chris Redfield

Chris had taken you out to brunch with his friends, all of them enjoying the one rare moment of peace they all go together. You spent the time getting the office gossip from the girls that Chris never bothered to get whilst he was at work. You were having a good time until you felt the familiar stabbing pain in your lower back. You suddenly straightened your back in response accidentally knocking Chris' arm. Chris turned to you thinking that you were trying to get his attention, his brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at your pained expression. "Everything alright, Love?" He whispered leaning in close. You shook your head slightly, "My period has just started, I'm having some cramps" Chris laid his hand on the small of your back and began to rub small circles in hope to ease some of the pain you were feeling. "Do you want to leave?" he whispered again before placing a small kiss on the crown of your head. You shook your head again leaning into his arm. "I'll be alright if you keep doing this" you joked, you posture loosened as he continued to rub your back. Chris chuckled and moved his hand up your shirt so you could get the heat of his palm too. You smiled at him, giving him a quick kiss before returning to the conversation with Jill and the others.

Piers Nivans

You had somehow managed to persuade him to take you to disneyland. You had spend the day meeting all the characters, eating all of the expensive themed junk food. Piers even treated you to your own lightsaber which you repaid him with lots of kisses and thank yous. However you were both now stood in the que for a rollercoaster ride, Piers was just ahead of you looking over the heads of people to try and see the board displaying the wait time. You were absent mindedly scrolling through your phone at all the photos you had taken during the day favoriting any of the one you wanted to post or print out. The girl behind tapped you on the shoulder, you turned to look at her with a smile. "I just wanted to let you know that you are bleeding through your jeans, do you need any products? I have some spare" she asked you, her tone was comforting and she held out a few tampons. You smiled taking the products she had held out to you and put them in your bag, you were too far in the queue now to be able to see the damage. Instead you tapped Piers on the shoulder causing him to turn and look at you with a smile. "Can I borrow your hoodie please?" You asked him innocently. Piers nodded not even hesitating to pull it off and hand it to you. You took it and wrapped it around your waist to cover the stain. "My periods bled through my jeans according to the girls behind us. I'm just using it to cover it up" You said sheepishly as you tried to gauge his reaction. "No worries Love, it's getting kinda hot anyway" He said kissing you on the head before he leaned round to make sure that the hoodie covered up the mark.

Jake Wesker

You were in the ladies toilet at the grocery shop as you silently cursed the world for the timing of your period. You couldn't leave the stall without making a mess of yourself and you didn't have any products in your purse to use. So you had to call your boyfriend who was waiting for you outside. "Hey babe, I need you to run to the female hygiene section and get me some pads please" you asked him. Jake stood by the entrance of the doorway almost like he was buffering. "Uhhh sure, What type do you need?" he asked as he began to walk over to the correct aisle. "just the basic ones please" you responded down the phone silently praying he would go a bit faster so you could actually finish the shopping and return home for cuddles and junk food. Jake stood there for like 5 minutes staring blankly at the wall of products trying to think about the ones you might have had at your house. "what brand?" he asked nervously. "just always jake, it should be a pink packet" He didn't respond for a while but you could hear the chatter of the other customers at the store as well as the beeping of the cashier. He eventually spoke as he approached the bathrooms. "I've got them" he said looking at the packet that was in his hands. "You'll have to come in" There was a beat of silence as you assumed Jake was taken aback by your statement. "There's no one in here, just come in, I'm in the last stall" Jake didn't reply instead you heard the door open and the packet landed at your feet. You muttered a thanks through the phone laughing at his delivery. Once you had finished and walked out the bathroom you were met with a scowl which made you chuckle as you finished the rest of the groceries.

Leon Kennedy

Leon was tucked underneath one of the many throws you insisted of having whilst you were out drinking with a few of your friends from work. He was scrolling through his phone as the crappy late night tv was on in the background. He was waiting for you to eventually call him to be picked up but it was rather early on in the night. He felt his eyes begin to close until he was scared awake by his phone vibrating in his hands. You were calling him. "Hey Sweetheart is everything alright?" He asked. He could hear you crying on the phone which made his heart beat fast as he tried to think of what could have possibly happened. "My period started and it's down my legs, can you come and pick me up please" You whimpered as you looked down at the blood streaks. You felt disgusting and just prayed for the earth to swallow you up whole so you didn't have to stand here like this. Leon quickly got up and raced to his car, taking a small towel and one of his hoodies with him to give you. When he arrived he gently guided your form towards the car, allowing you to hide behind the door as he wiped your legs down as best he could. He then passed you his hoodie to slip over your form knowing it would fall at least mid thigh and hide the mess. "The seats, I don't want to ruin your car" You spoke quietly. His heart broke at how small you looked as you stood there, he couldn't wait to just snuggle with you when you got home and hopefully try to ease the symptoms. He put the towel on the chair and sped home as fast as he could to make sure you got comfortable and forgot about this as quickly as you can.

[aniesvision]

dating? (matt sturniolo x f! reader)

warnings: lying, anxiety, panicking (nothing too bad), mostly just fluff

a/n: hi!! this one is just a cute little short fluff, it's translated from my wattpad account. friendly reminder: english is not my first language, i'm sorry if there's any mistakes ✨

synopsis: your friends were going to have Madison Beer as their next guest on their podcast and you were excited to meet her. Things take a different turn when, finally talking to her, you realize one of your friends lied to her.

colors: matt you nick chris madison ✨

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Just over two hours after entering the podcast studio, the three boys and the day's special guest, Madison Beer, appeared in the living room.

I had only arrived a few minutes ago and let myself in with the extra key that Nick had given to me once, considering how many times we went to each other's houses (he also have a key to my apartment).

I was practically family now. And, for that very reason, they accepted me only coming here today with the interest of getting to know Madison.

-Hi! It's so nice to finally meet you. -I smile excitedly as soon as I see the girl.

I was a big fan of her work, not the kind who followed every detail of her life or waited anxiously for news stories to find out when the new album was coming out, but the kind who listened to her songs from time to time and liked them. And also related with the lyrics.

Madison gives me a genuine smile, not waiting a second before pulling me into a hug, kindly greeting me and walking with me to the kitchen.

I showed her where the glasses and water were while the boys threw themselves down on the couch I was on earlier.

-The boys have told me a lot about you, especially Matt, you guys make such a cute couple. -She says with a big genuine smile, setting her empty glass on the counter.

-Huh? -I ask, confused. -What do you mean "couple"?

Madison spent her whole day with the guys. They decided to hang out before filming so it'd feel more natural. I haven't been able to talk to any of them yet, considering they were filming and I immediately went to talk to Madison when they were done.

I glance in the direction of the couch, seeing that Matt is looking at us suspiciously. Maybe he said we were dating for a reason, and I'll find out later, but for now I'm going to be the good friend who lies to get in on the act and help him out.

-Matt told me you guys are dating. And I'm sorry, I didn't know you had something, I have a friend who has a certain interest in him and I tried to help her, but neither of us are the type to destroy happy couples, so don't worry, it won't happen again.

Madison explains, making some gestures with her hands and I smile, trying to dispel the feeling of guilt that exuded from her face.

-Oh, it's okay, it's a recent thing, we haven't really announced it yet. -I answer, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. It's so hard to lie, specially about something like this and specially to THE Madison Beer.

-I understand, but now I know, and she knows, and I'm sorry again. -Madison says, but I can't answer as Matthew appears in the kitchen.

-Hey, can I talk to you for a minute? -The boy looks at me with a fake smile and pulls me by the wrist to his room, locking the door as soon as we enter.

He didn't even give me a chance to excuse myself, he just dragged me away from Madison.

-Matt, what the fuck was that? -I ask, disbelieving that I've been taken out of the conversation so abruptly.

I crossed my arms and looked at him in confusion, trying to understand his reaction. He seemed nervous and kept looking down, running his hand through his hair repeatedly.

-I don't know. -He replies, his voice low.

-Why did you tell her we're dating?

I tried to keep my voice as calm as possible, to show him that I wasn't angry, just confused. Annoyed, for sure, but mostly confused. I didn't want to make him feel bad in any way.

-Madison tried to give me her friend's number, and I don't know, I guess I panicked. -Matt rubs his eyes a little.

-If you didn't want to, you could've just said 'no' or 'I'm not interested'. -I uncross my arms, but continue to stare at him in confusion.

-I panicked. -He repeats, starting to play with the rings on his fingers.

I take a few steps forward and take a deep breath. I put my hand on his, squeezing it lightly and making him look at me.

-It's okay. -I smiled, trying to calm him down.

-Are you mad at me? -He asks, squeezing my hand tighter.

-Of course not. I was just confused, I still am, but I think the biggest problem isn't that you said it, it's that Madison is no longer the only one who knows about our "relationship" and maybe we need to talk about what to do now.

I keep making eye contact and standing close to him, not stepping back so he wouldn't think I was somehow mad at him. Matt and I have been friends for a long time, and we both show affection through touch, so hugs, holding hands, sleeping in the same bed and things like that, are normal. But it's always just friendly.

What's not so normal is hearing that he invented a relationship between the two of us so that he wouldn't have to dump a girl and for some reason during his moment of panic I was the person he thought of to say he was dating.

Although we have a very strong friendship, not just me and him, but me and his brothers, I understand that maybe I was a kind of easy answer because I was always there.

Part of me believes this theory, that it was just a mistake out of anxiety, nothing major. Part of me wants to believe that he feels something more.

It's not like I like him, or have a crush on him or anything. I don't feel anything other than friendship for him, I can't feel it.

He's my friend and he should probably just stay my friend.

He really is an amazing person, he's attractive, I can't deny that, he's funny, we have a lot in common, we get along well, I enjoy being with him and he would certainly make a great boyfriend.

But not for me, he doesn't see me that way.

He could've gotten someone's number, he could've gotten along with a nice person, and yet he preferred to lie and say he was dating me.

He preferred a fake relationship to the chance of something real.

He panicked, but why did he panic? It's not as if anyone would think it was that bad to be dumped, it's not. It happens all the time.

I don't know how I'd feel if he told me that he'd got the number of a new girl. That he's going out with her, that he likes her. I don't know how I'd feel if he had someone else in his life. Someone that's not going to be just a friend.

I should be happy, but I probably wouldn't.

It's Matt, after all. He's my best friend, he's the one who's with me in every situation, he's the person I want to be with in my days and rely on for every moment. That's Matt. And I love him with all my heart.

I don't want to distance myself if I know he has someone else with whom he's going to do all the things we do. And even more things we've never done, but in any case, the attention would be hers, it would all be for her.

And as selfish as it is, maybe I don't want that person to exist for him. I want to remain the focus of his attention.

-I don't know what to do. -He says, getting more anxious and pulling me out of my own thoughts, back to facing the situation.

-Matt, it's okay. -I put my hands on his face, forcing him to look at me as I spoke. -It's just a fake dating thing. It's not the worst thing in the world and we'll work it out together, okay?

Matt puts his hands on my hips, pulling me closer.

-I don't know if I want to lie anymore. I can't. I need to tell the truth. -He whispers, shaking his head repeatedly.

I put my arms around him, hugging him and feeling his rapid heartbeat as he tried to take a deep breath.

-Breathe, Matt, I'm here, and it's okay, it's going to be okay.

I keep squeezing his body and he squeezes mine back, only pulling slightly away to look me in the eye.

-I lied to Madison and I couldn't say "no" because I'd feel guilty accepting another girl's number knowing that there's only one girl in this world that I want. -His voice is just above a whisper, a little shaky but firm enough to show how serious he was about his words.

He placed his hand on my cheek, caressing it gently.

-Matt... -I try to say something, but I was so stunned with the confession that I couldn't.

-I lied because I'm in love with you and I do want to date you for real, I'm sorry, I should have just confessed all this before and avoided this situation, I'm really sorry, I'm an idiot.

I giggle at the way he said it. Matt has just confessed his feelings for me and he's so anxious that he looks like he's going to die at any second and I can only laugh. It's so silly. So stupidly silly, the way I've been shoving my feelings down the ground and he was out there lying that he was dating me because he feels the same. And neither of us though of talking about it before acting stupid.

-Then we don't have to do anything, silly. There's no fake relationship to unmask if it's real. -I smile, slipping my arms around his shoulders and getting even closer to him.

-Wait. Does that mean you feel the same? -He asks, his eyes widening in a mix of confusion and surprise.

Without thinking too much, I close the distance between us, bringing our lips together in a long affectionate kiss. We pull apart from lack of air and I smile with our faces still close.

-Do you want to be my girlfriend? Like, for real this time? -Matt asked, with our lips ghosting.

He had a smile on his face that immediately made me realize how much I am and always have been in love with him, I just never wanted to accept it.

-Of course I do. -I accept, with a smile.

He joins our lips in a kiss once more and leaves several kisses on my face, then on my neck and finally back on my lips.

-Matt, everyone's in the living room, we need to go back. -I giggle, with my eyes closed, still feeling kisses on my face with a smile.

-Yeah, you need to talk to Madison more, I forgot you came just to see her today. -He lets go of me, chuckling and taking my hand.

-It's not my fault she's perfect. -I laugh too, interlacing our fingers with a shrug and pulling us towards the bedroom door.

-You're the only one who's perfect for me. -Matt whispers in my ear before opening the door and pulling me into the hallway, his face completely red with a silly grin.

We sat down together on the couch next to Madison and I got back into talking to her again, about the podcast, her music, her day, what she liked to do and things like that. She's such a sweetheart and I was so happy to meet her that my heart was racing. Obviously not just because of that, but honestly this day is just full of surprises.

At some point, Nick and Chris got closer and joined in the conversation too and it was amazing to see how everyone was so comfortable talking to each other.

Madison seemed to be a great friend and I intended to keep her in my life.

While Nick asked about what we wanted to eat and they discussed seating options, Matt wrapped his arm around my shoulders and sank his head into my neck, leaving little kisses all around.

-You guys are so cute. -Madison draws the attention of the whole group to the two of us, making me feel a little embarrassed, but happy.

-It's normal, they're clingy, it's disgusting. -Nick comments, still not connecting the dots.

-Don't say this, Nick, every couple is clingy at first. I think it's cute. -Madison looks at me with a smile.

-COUPLE? -Nick and Chris yell together, confused, looking between everyone in the room.

I hear Matt's giggle, his face still nestled in the crook of my neck. He must have been as embarrassed as I was, but it was still funny.

-Yes, a couple, people who are dating and all that. I think we forgot to tell them. -I say, sarcastically, trying to stay serious and not burst into laughter as I nudge Matt.

-Dating? You two are dating? -Nick asks again, confused. He took turns looking between me and Matt, arching an eyebrow.

Chris was looking at us laughing and Madison was a little confused, but finding the whole thing just as funny. Then Matt lifts his face, showing his big smile and red face, pulls me closer, making me lay my head on his chest this time, and starts messing with strands of my hair before looking at his brothers.

-Yes, Nick, we're dating.

With that, he lifts my face by the chin and leaves a quick kiss on my lips. I could feel my heart beating faster, but Nick and Chris's reactions were so good that I couldn't pay attention to my nervousness.

-AND YOU TOLD MADISON FIRST?! -Nick looks at us indignantly.

-I didn't mean to, but yeah, I guess. -Matt comments, shrugging and running his free hand over the back of his neck.

-Since when? -Chris asks, pointing at the two of us.

Matt looks at me in slight despair. We needed to be cautious not to seem like he lied to Madison too.

-It's recent, we'll tell you the details later, where are we going to eat now? I'm hungry. -I say, trying to change the subject.

And it worked, everyone went back to discussing where to go out to eat and forgot the information about our recent relationship, which was more recent than they could ever know.

-Thank you. -Matt whispers in my ear and I smile in response, snuggling closer to him and enjoying the moment.

I certainly could never have imagined Matthew with anyone else, and I'm glad I realized it in time. It'd be painful to see him with another girl.

tags 💕

@riowritesitall