#we love a girl with jeggings! i assume these are jeggings at least. all the pairs ive seen had the big white seams too :p

[dogboots]

I like unis multicare outfit :)

[jaskanetic]

22 and 27 OwO

Trans Ask Game

22. Do your neurodivergencies and/or disabilities affect your gender?

🤔 I have a very active mind (I assume from ADHD? The only other mental thing I KNOW I have is Major Depression Disorder, diagnosed at age 12/13. So like depression lol. And anxiety.) But regardless, I am always jumping WAAAAAY too ahead. I'm empathetic too and very emotionally sensitive I think, and all that combined with rushing ahead into the future with my thoughts... Often cause me to get upset over realizing "oh, wait, can't come out yet. Can't do X yet. Can't transition yet. Right. Other stuff first. Ok. Yeah. This sucks."

Like hitting myself with a hammer honestly.

Sometimes, or often rather, I have a bit of dysphoria. Something rubs me wrong, or my active mind reminds me "you have massive tiddies" or "you sound like a 12 year old". Insecurities that remind me my body isn't how I want it to be, yet. And I start to question myself or dissociate. "Do I really want to transition? I don't like my body. I want to. Maybe not? It's been this way forever. Should I? I dunno. Can I handle surgery? Maybe not now. I don't know anymore. What if I'm lying to myself?"

Things like that. Dysphoria things. But I always ground myself, and stick to the decisions I have made up in my head, knowing I'll be happier because of them in the long run.

But yeah. My active, jumping mind has been the cause of many problems in the past. And it definitely affects me in terms of gender as well.

27. What do you do to validate yourself?

Well! There's a lot of little things I do.

For instance, Hair: I LOVE to mess with my hair. I'm sporting a NICE undercut these days, the bit left on the top is long and I always tie it back into a man-bun sort of deal. Makes me feel like a big strong Viking or something. A gladiator. Warrior. Like I'm about to wrestle a bear in the snow and drink beer out of a goat horn.

Not shaving: I never cared for shaving to begin with. I only did so in my teen years because I wasn't fully out, I had a lot of dysphoria after my mom's response to me initially saying I was trans, and I thought the pure act of shaving would make me "acceptable." Y'know. "Like other girls", or "normal", so people like my mom wouldn't vote me out like an Among Us playthrough. Now that I'm older, I prefer not to shave both because it makes me feel more masculine, and because it's a pain in the ass and I just can't be bothered to. :/ I shaved a few days ago. The whole deal. Everywhere but my back. I already have stubble and I itch like crazy. Personally, not shaving helps in two different ways lmao.

Clothes: I get men's shoes. Men's pants. Men's shirts. Men's everything. I buy everything from the men's section at any store. I went to 2 clothing stores today and only hung around either the area with the bajillion frying pans, or the men's clothes. It's hard sometimes, I don't have a binder and my massive chest makes it difficult unless I wear something loose. But, wearing men's clothes feels just so RIGHT for me. I feel comfortable. Free. At peace, in a way. Were as when I put on the jeggings my mom bought me for Christmas, while I appreciate my dump truck ass, I also want to tear them off with my teeth and toss them into a fire. Men's clothes, very good, 10/10.

Natural Form: I'm stocky in body shape. And I'm tall. I have a good mix of muscle and fat, purely because I don't do cardio, so rather than slim out much, my body just stacks more muscle over my muscle under my fat. I have the body of a gorilla. The thundering thighs of a horse if it were an Olympian God. A dump truck ass. The biceps of a man ready to toss someone. The thickest neck in the world. I am always "mistaken" as a man (BLESS) so long as my chest is hidden. I have been told, I have a DAD BOD. I HAVE A FUCKING DAD BOD. And I am grateful for it. I still want to take Testosterone, but sometimes I slap on some shorts or sweats and a good t-shirt and slides, and then the dysphoria evaporates as I take one look at myself and go "ah, yes, a literal chad. A beefcake. A lad. A dad."

Strength: I have gathered a respect amongst my family as being a literal fucking powerhouse. Tasks they would normally have the boys do, they have me do quite often. Especially in terms of lifting things so heavy, that they label as "a job for the boys". And me, I, get asked to do those things. While I am not out to them and they likely wouldn't be accepting, they at least accept I am very "masculine" and very STRONK. Stronger than the boys in the house I think. I watch a male carry the enormous bag of dog food with two hands, meanwhile, here is I, holding that sack with 1 hand and up against my shoulder, effortlessly. Feels great.

Names: Nic. Nic is not my real name, but it's a preferred online name or nickname. Nic is short for Nicay, sure, but when I first came out in highschool, I chose the name "Nikolai", only to doubleback and decide "my birth name is perfectly fine actually, I think I'll keep Nic as like a nickname". And here we are. I know I asked for "Jaska" a long time ago when things were kinda crazy, but that was pure adrenaline rush that took me. Jaska is an oc, and it feels awkward. I prefer Nic, or my real name for close friends/people I've known a long time. (Friends are free to ask about it too if you'd like, I don't mind cx).

This was VERY LONG I'M SORRY but thanks for asking!

Also these are just my preferences! Every trans person's way of dealing with dysphoria and things are valid. You don't have to transition or follow what is considered "masculine" or "feminine". Just be you, do what makes you comfortable. 💜

[ivemetyouathousandways]

Scrambled eggs, like scrambled feelings

Oksøy Lighthouse - Oksøy Fyr - Norway - Saturday 7:30 am

“The boat is in the opposite direction.” He protested as I dragged him to the side of the lighthouse.

"I know. But that side is ...I mean look at it!”

I expected a snazzy remark along the lines of “Yes, I know, I happen to live here. In fact, I was born here. I even grew up here! Imagine that! Some forty-five odd years around the neighborhood!.” But Sven was above those petty levels and simply followed me. 

The wind had calmed down, even on this coastal island edge, the swashing and lapping of the waves against the rocky shores was the most soothing sensation and for a moment I completely spaced out, vaguely being conscious of Sven’s warm hand holding mine, maybe imagining the slow shift of his body behind mine, the pulling back hug, his hands still on mine. The sky was of a magnificent alleviating blue, the ocean, a marvelous rich, nurturing, perfect deep blue. I wanted to drown in the healing blue, caressed and rocked and carried away by the wind.  

“Why are you really in Norway?”

His voice, a warm whisper in my ear, was like a therapist’ voice, reassuring, inviting to truly open up. 

“I’m trying to mend a stupid ass broken heart.” I whispered in one go, suddenly out of breath, wondering if I had answered his question or if I was confessing to the roaring ocean.

“Heart aches and heartbreaks are never stupid.” His hug tightened and I felt a kiss on the back of my head. “They are hard, the wounds sting bad, but they also teach us. Did you know that the Japanese value broken vases and bowls which they repair with gold? Wounds and scars paint a beautiful unique portrait of the soul.”

I let my head rest against his shoulder and fully savored the moment; his arms around me, his body keeping mine warm, the refreshing wind keeping a reality check on me. I wanted to burst into tears and sob a little, the magnificence of this moment would, sooner or later, end, and I didn’t want to face that eventuality, not even the thought of. I rolled the memory of his kiss on my tongue, the warmth, the passion, the hunger. My answer wasn’t any lesser than his demands. It had been sweet and scary at the same time. I didn’t want to catch feelings, I didn’t want to hurt him, but I was already comfortably snug cocooning in this infatuation. 

Thank you, Sven, for this magnificent moment.

I gladly let him operate the small motored  boat on the way back to mainland, my ego had been satisfied on the way here, more or less successfully proving him that I could, in fact, maneuver the damned thing on my own. And I had enjoyed every single of peek I had at his face, both dubious and relieved that I didn’t cause a double drown in freezing cold waters. 

“We just passed a coffee shop.” I mentioned as we did in fact elongated the distance between us and a gorgeous cozy little shop I was excited to try out.

“I know.” He smiled smug back at me.

“I guess you have a favorite spot?”

I should have thought of that. 

“You can say it like that - yes.” He smiled again. 

I wanted to play a game, but I felt childish and silly and very stupid. Back in my college years, whenever I went out with a friend, and mind you, this was downtown Montreal, with cars and traffic lights and a myriad of by-passers in the heat of the noon hour when everyone around downtown was out and about for lunch and leisure, I randomly closed my eyes, as he was holding my hand, and I let him guide me around the streets to wherever he was taking me for lunch at. 

I tripped on something and felt Sven’s arm suddenly slide around my shoulders to catch me.

“What are you doing?” He snapped, worried.

“Playing a game.” I made an effort not to open my eyes. “I close my eyes and see how far I can trust you.”

“You often play this game?”

“Only with whom I deem worthy of a shot.”

He tightened his grip a notch. My heart accelerated. How to kill a flame; be a stupid rogue on not even official date. 

“Watch your step.”

I poked my toe against a small concrete elevation. I couldn’t tell just how long we had walked. I had selfishly enjoyed it. Sounds of the village. Sounds of our steps on the dirt paths or concrete streets. Random chitter-chatter from people passing us by. The chirping or birds. The wind. The distant roar of the ocean fading but ever present, a distant echo reminding us that were on an island still. Cars rolling past us. His silence, beautiful, comforting. 

He put both hands on my shoulders and I could feel his warm breath against my ear once more.

“You can open your eyes now.”

I had a bit of a shock when I recognized his kitchen counter and coffee machine neatly aligned in front of me.

“You impressed with that boat earlier this morning. Safe to assume I can trust you with this piece of machinery.”

Real funny, Sven.

“When we were at the lighthouse, I wanted to say “let’s go home and you can make me coffee” but I think it would have been too soon.”

My heart squeezed delightfully in my chest. Let’s go home - not: let’s go back to my place and i’ll let you maneuver the coffee machine.Oh! Miniature Illy avatar was swooning all over the place.

“So - euhm - you tell me where you store the ingredients or do I roam free in your cabinets?”

“You managed to go around by yourself in a country with a non Latin based writing system, I think you can handle roaming around my cabinets and cupboards.”

Miniature Illy was about floating in sparkly glittery popping hearts. I tried not to smile stupidly like a lost enamored high school girl. 

Sven then casually sat down at the kitchen table and opened the newspaper laying there. Was it last night’s evening paper or even older or this morning’s paper? Did an actual paper boy deliver it before the crack of dawn?

“Can I ...” I started and suddenly felt intimated by my bold inspiration.

“Can you...” He repeated, giving me his full attention.

“Can I make you breakfast?” I spurted out with half a grimace.

He then froze in a a near perfect still shot, morphed into incredulous bewilderment, and exploded in a fit of laughter. 

“Yes!” He said between two fits of laughter “Yes, you may make me breakfast.” He picked up the newspaper “Matter of fact, I’ll even give you carte blanche.” 

I cracked my fingers and took a deep breath. Time to have a goddamned plan! And hopefully not break his coffee machine...

The sound of a quiet morning in a random kitchen in Norway. Someone turning the pages of a printed newspaper. Someone’s soft peaceful breathing. The dripping drop by drop of a coffee machine brewing coffee, cracking eggs, beating them in a bowl. A car passing by in the distance. The roaring ocean nearer - just outside the window - a few steps in the backyard. A tourist lost and found in a small village at the other end of the world. I loved villages at the end of the world. I came from one, I felt home in them. My secret hide out, safe places. Harasztkerék, Targu Mures, Romania. Doolin, County Clare, Ireland. Skålevik, Vest-Agder county, Norway. Someone turning a few pages of a printed newspaper. A loud thump against the front door.

My heart skipped a beat, then decided to race furiously in my chest. I was happily surveying the delicate mix of cheese with scrambled eggs over a hot gas stove. They were near perfect ready. Bread was patiently laying on a plate, ready to welcome a luxurious coat of thick rich scrambled eggs with bits of ham and a heavy load of gooey melted cheese. 

Sven calmly put the paper down and smiled reassuringly, but I noted concern on his face.

“Stay here. It’s okay. Nothing to worry about.”

The weariness of his tone informed me he was no stranger to whatever situation was unfolding outside. But I worried. Human nature - you can’t escape that shit. I tried to muster as much self control as I could to garnish the bread slices with the thick rich mix of scrambled eggs and melted cheese, sprinkled a few more bits of ham on top, instagram dropped a few tomato slices and, at fault of having proper baby pickles - I would have to touch a word about this to him - dropped in a small string of grapes. 

The proper thing would have been to patiently wait for his return, enthuse about the breakfast and play as if nothing had disrupted the otherwise perfect little morning, but I never qualified as a proper lady following the proper course of actions. I was the lovable rogue who did what pleased her; take it or leave it. After having neatly laid the plates on the table and poured coffee in two mugs, I decided that I was dead curious to see what had caused the incidental ruckus outside and found Sven taking photos of a bloody crime scene. 

“Can you fetch me a few Q-tips?” His tone was monotone, matter of fact, instructor giving directives to an apprentice. “Bathroom is on the second floor, first door on your left. Medicine cabinet mirror.” He continued. “And a Ziploc bag from the kitchen on your way out. Takk!*” He smiled briefly, but I could see the lassitude on his face. 

I rushed in the house like horror movie victim running for her sweet life, sped up the stairs two steps by two, busted in the bathroom out of breath and opened the mirrored medical cabinet to find a cute little glass square box of said Q-tips of which i snatched few, cussing myself out midway down that I should have fetched them using a piece of toilet paper - but it was too late now, my finger prints were on them, or partial finger prints at least. I found the box of plastic sandwich bags in the pantry and allowed zero concerns this time, a trip at the local police precinct would be an adventure on it’s own!

Sven was on the phone when I carefully stepped out, trying not to touch the outside of the door. Big bloody red letters spelled out HORE and something in the forefront of my mind told me that the Norwegian spelling was about just a letter missing from it’s English equivalent, but I failed to understand the context and how or why the word was painted on this man’s front door. 

‘Takk, takk. Jeg venter” He hung up the call. 

“The precinct will send an officer over shortly.” He informed me.

“Is that... real blood?”

“Pig's blood. Yes.”

The odd realization of the fact froze me in place. 

“Why...”

“My daughter’s ex boyfriend didn’t take it too well that she moved away; went to live in England with her mother and her new husband.”

Just how much can one morning hold and not break the fragile thread being weave between two people ?

Takk = Thanks!

jeg venter = i’ll be waiting

[lalka-laski]

Survey Fun

What’s the weather like right now? Unusually warm for January in Upstate New York. But my walk to work this morning was lovely and I only had to wear a spring jacket, so I’ll take it!  What are you currently sitting on? An office chair. How many times have you brushed your teeth today? Just once, it’s only 7 am. 

When did you get up? 5:45. I woke up just a few minutes before my alarm, which is uncharacteristic of me. I’ve been sleeping soundly the entire night lately and waking up refreshed! I always thought restful sleep was a scam but I’m becoming a believer! 

Have you been in a vehicle for more than 45 minutes today? I haven’t been in a vehicle for quite a few days actually. Perks of the pedestrian life! 

Where is your best friend? My lifelong best friend lives in Pittsburgh.  How many days until Christmas? It’s January 11th so you can do the math  Have you kissed someone today? I have not  Is your mom over 50? 50 and some change. Maybe 55? I should know this...  How old were you 7 years ago? 20. OH GOD! This was not the kind of realization I needed today.  Do you know what ‘C'est la vie’ means? I do. And I can’t read or hear that phrase without “C’est la vie” by B*Witched running through my head. The ‘90s were strange.  Do you usually take showers or baths? Showers recently because my current bathtub isn’t really fit for a proper soak. (Hasn’t stopped me from trying though...) One of my requirements for my future house is a nice bathtub. What kind of bottoms are you wearing right now? Black jeggings with a tummy control panel that I have to say doesn’t work that great. 

Are you wearing anything red? My nails What was the name of your first pet? Beanie the bunny!  Do you live in an apartment? I do, and a fairly decent one at that. I’m happy! What color is the floor in the room you’re in? It’s not one distinguishable color but rather an array of earth tones.  What was the most irritating thing to happen to you today? Knock on wood, the day’s been calm and stress free so far. Granted, I’ve only been at work for an hour and only seen 2 clients BUT... it’s a nice start. How do you feel about your most recent ex? I don’t think about him anymore, and for that I am grateful.  Do you wish at 11:11? Sometimes just for fun.  Do you wish on shooting stars? Once as a kid I was sitting in my backyard the night before an end-of-the-school-year picnic. I saw a shooting star and I wished that I would win a game of Bingo at the picnic. And the next day, I did! So as far as I’m concerned, shooting star wishes have a 100% success rate and that is not debatable ok. 

Do you wish on dandelions? I do! I like the whimsical fun of it.   Are you drinking anything right now? I just finished a coffee and now I’m sipping water. I rotate between water, sparkling water and coffee throughout my work days. The bathroom trips are INCESSANT!  About how tall is your father? It’s funny, everyone assumes he’s 6′ or taller, but he’s really only about 5′10. He’s just such a large man and has a very big, intimidating presence so he appears taller than he is.  How old is your oldest living grandparent? Mid-80s.  Do you know anyone who has lived to be 100+? My maternal grandfather’s mother lived ‘till her late 90s if I’m not mistaken. Which was pretty unprecedented for her era. I could see my grandpa living ‘till 100 himself. And his wife (my grandma) just might as well despite her decaying health, because as my mom says “evil never dies.”  Have you had your birthday yet this year? Not for another 7 months!  Do you read your horoscope on a regular basis? I don’t, but I still find astrology interesting. I view it less as dogma and more as a tool for self-discovery and introspection. And I think people who want to criticize the validity of it need to lighten up a little!

Do you like the color yellow? It’s one of my least favorites actually. I NEVER wear yellow apparel or accessories, and I’m not even fond of it for decor/knick knacks etc. Something about it, I dunno... 

Are you an aunt or uncle? My boyfriend has a niece and nephew that I refer to as my own. And they will technically be someday, so better to just get in the habit now I suppose! Why is your best friend your best friend? It was destiny, if I’m honest. What is your hair like at the moment? I have it piled into a hair-clip. This hairstyle paired with my glasses give me a real librarian vibe, but not in a sexy way.  How many times have you donated blood this year? This calendar year, none. Last year I believe I donated once? I try to as much as possible. It’s such a simple act of charity. Plus, you usually get a tee shirt or something out of it! Are you wearing any jewelry? My claddagh & my promise ring (we call it “the placeholder).  Are you a video-gamer? We never had any kind of gaming consoles or devices growing up. Not because we weren’t allowed, but because they simply never interested us. I did like a few PC games though as a kid. Carmen Sandiego is still my bitch!  Who got married at the last wedding you went to? My good friend Sarah Do you like Chinese food? I do! I just had some mock Sesame Chicken the other day and it was bomb.  How far is the nearest Walmart? A little less than a 10 minute drive from here, I think. Have you ever been a designated driver? Never. And not only for the obvious reason that I don’t have a license. Even if I did, I wouldn’t want that responsibility. When I go out, I GO OUT.  What is something that always brings tears to your eyes? Looking at pictures of my “babies” (the little girls I nanny or my goddaughter). I sometimes can’t even talk about them without getting a little crack in my voice. My love for them is just outrageous.  Who is your 20th phone contact? If you really think I’m picking up my phone and counting... Do you have any plans to get a tattoo? I used to have a list of potential tattoos but looking back, I’m grateful I never followed through with any. I’m maxed out at one tat.  Or a new piercing? None.

What would your name be if your last name was the color of your shirt? Black. Elizabeth Black, hmm... doesn’t suit me at all. If you could find out how you would die, would you want to know? ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT.  Do you make your bed regularly? I lazily make it. By that I mean, I prop the pillows against the headboard, lay the comforter flat and then strategically toss the throw blankets across it. It’s the perfect effortless-but-actually-required-some-effort look.  Do you look forward to the weekend? It’s Saturday right now and I am living for it!  How much do you know about the mechanics of cars? Not a damn thing. Has anyone ever told you you should be a model? Actually, yeah. But I don’t get those comments anymore and I’ll try to pretend that’s not result of my weight gain...  How old was your mom when she had you? 27 I believe? Which is the exact age I am right now, so this has been a fun survey *eye roll*  Do rainy days get you down? No, I adore them! Who is the artist/band you’re listening to at the moment? Just the instrumental office music right now. But lately I’ve been LOVING Blood Orange.  Do you ever take aspirin when you 'feel a headache coming on’? Occasionally. I only really get headaches when I’m hungover so it’s not often.  Is there a calendar in the room you’re in? Nope. Do you prefer to be in a relationship or be single? I’m in a beautiful and healthy relationship right now so, that should answer it.  If you’re single, do you wish you were in a relationship? Have you ever had your heart broken? Plenty of times  Do you live within an hour of the beach? I do! For Upsate NY we have a pretty good selection of beaches. How do you like your steak? I don’t. Were you born in the 1980s? I WISH

[yarnsmith]

10. White

Viggo was antsy once he got home.  He tried to concentrate on swimming.  It didn't really work, and his focus suffered.  He tried to focus on training Hope.  That was a bit easier, since there was fun involved, but still Viggo wasn't a very forceful person.  He even tried to focus on getting ready for school, without much headway. He kept on thinking about that night in the hotel, and how things pretty much returned to normal after that night.  Maybe it was just a dream, but now it was the only thing he could think of. Mannie, on the other hand seemed oddly hyper focused.  He was gathering curriculum, he was making presentations, he was reviewing textbooks.  He was also reviewing grad students. "This is why I was always an adjunct before." he said at least 10 times a day.  The very first time, Viggo reminded him that it was better for his career and his finances, after that there really was no need to beat a dead horse.  Mannie also muttered to himself, quite a bit.  Viggo wondered what it was all about, but wasn't brave enough to confront him. Then one day, a student came to his house, looking for Mannie.  The girl seemed surprised to meet Viggo, and asked when Viggo expected him back.  By this point, Viggo was feeling slightly paranoid, and closed and locked the door in her face.  He retreated to his bedroom, and that is where Mannie found him even an hour later. "I'm afraid this house may be rubbing off on you." Mannie said.  He patted Viggo's leg.  The stray cat that wondered in and out had made a bed on Viggo's lap, and scurried off when Mannie appeared. "I don't know what that means." Viggo said honestly. "I mean, before I lived here, I didn't shut doors in peoples faces." "I'm sorry.  I really didn't know what to do.  Your students aren't supposed to come to your homes, right?" Mannie nodded. "That's true.  That's why I will not have anything to do with her.  I talked to her.  I told her next time she came here, I would take out a restraining order.  I think that woke her up.  I doubt she meant any harm..." "So, I should just tell them it's inappropriate and ask them to leave?" Viggo clarified. "Hmm.  Maybe you should tell them you are my boyfriend.  IF it is a young lady, then that should scare her away.  If a young man, then, sure." Viggo blinked. "I'm your boyfriend?" Mannie nodded. "I...hope...so..." Viggo "What about the hotel room?" Mannie scooted closer so they were laying head to feet. "I thought boyfriends did that kind of thing..." "I mean since..." "Fuck V.  I'm sorry.  I wish I had your energy.  I don't know.  Honestly I don't feel like that all the time.  Sometimes I feel...white." "White? Is it depression? Anxiety? Something else?" "That's just it.  It's nothing.  I feel empty.  I feel like a part of me died.  I don't know how to act without that part.  But that night..it wasn't like that.  I felt full.  Overflowing.  Like blue." "I love how you equate feelings to colors." Viggo mused. "Good.  I'm glad.  Because I think that's part of it.  I'm falling in love with you, and I really don't know how to do that.  Not from a pit of emptiness." Viggo bit his lip. "I love you, too.  You don't have to force yourself to do anything. ��Just remember I'm eighteen.  Maybe I should just masterbate or something..." Mannie chuckled a bit. "You should defiantly masterbate.  But, V, there is something slightly more serious I need you to consider." Mannie sat up, and Viggo slowly followed suit. "If you want to go out and have fun...and by fun I mean sex.  Then go.  Just...just come home to me.  Okay? Just...just be safe." "You want to be polyamorous?" Viggo wondered. Mannie chuckled. "I already am.  I still love Nikki.  Maybe one day, I will be able to let go.  But that's not today.  I'm sorry." Viggo shook his head. "No.  Don't be sorry.  I just wanted to be clear.  I don't want to assume anything.  I understand. Sometimes I feel like Nikki and I, are.... it's almost like she's still here, competing for you.  So maybe...casual sex with other partners would help..." Mannie sniffled a bit. "I'm sorry if I made you feel that way.  It's not really her.  It's just my own wounded psyche.  I don't think...I don't want to loose you too..." Viggo reached over and kissed Manny, gently. "Then just don't push me away.  I accept your terms.  I will have casual, only casual sex with other partners on one condition.  You let me have sex with you first." Mannie gave the smallest blush. "I think we did okay in the hotel room." Viggo smiled "You had no problem getting me off.  Thank you for the hand job.  What about you?" "It's sometimes hard for me to..." "Since when?" Viggo interrupted. "I guess...since Nikki passed..." Mannie sighed. "I felt an erection that night.  At the hotel." Mannie nodded. "It's sometimes hard for me to keep them." he whispered. "You should talk to your doctor. Promise me." "Løfte." Mannie confirmed. Viggo kissed Mannie lightly again, when he heard the Danish word for promise. "What if I...." Viggo muttered.  His mouth when dry, and his brain seemed to short circuit. "Viggp, I know I'm older, but you do have more experience with men. So, please tell me frankly, what if you...?" "What if I...top?" Viggo asked gently. A light bulb went off in Mannie's head. "Oh." he said and nodded.  And then thought he should add. "I've never had anything, bigger than a but plug up..up there." Viggo nodded. "Okay.  Jeg vil være forsigtig." He tugged at Mannie's shirt and Mannie helped him pull it off. "I'm going to need English, V.  Please." Viggo pointed to himself. "Gentle." he said and was rewarded with another kiss.