#HE WHEN MNOM

[nostalgic-shamefest]

Girl relax no one is stealing him from inside your mouth!!!

[theraggedygirl11]

Kad nemam tebe sa mnom su moji demoni

Part 1

SUMMARY: Kris is a succubus, but he hates what he is and what he's forced to do for his demon sire. Then he meets a photographer, Damon, and something special blooms between them.

PAIRING: Kris Guštin/Damon Baker

WARNINGS: (kinda implied) drug and alcohol abuse, implied non-con (not between Kris/Damon), sex (not too explicit), hurt/comfort, angst/fluff, swearing

WORDS COUNT: 2.434

LINK: AO3

NOTES: Before diving into the first chapter of this short fic, I'd like to thank @anxious-witch for beta-reading it and giving me really good advice while I was writing it and @lahobbitdiazeroth for fangirling with me, even if she's not in the fandom (kinda).

This is my first ever work I publish in English. I got inspired by Hazbin Hotel and Damon's photoshoot with our guys, and I had to write something.

I'm sorry for the angst you'll find in it, but you know who to blame.

If you want to listen to the song that inspired me, here's a link. There's also an English version (and maybe one in your own language, this series got translated into many languages). Keep in mind that it mentions toxic relationships, abuse and trauma.

È un inferno tutto mio (This hell is all mine)  

Me lo sono scelto io (And I chose all of this)  

Tu sei il mio veleno (You are my poison)  

Dammi il tuo veleno (Give me your poison) 

Non possono farne a meno (I can’t help it)  

Mi scivola in gola e va giù (It slithers into my throat and goes down)  

Veleno, ne sono pieno (Poison, I’m full of it)  

Anche questa notte per me forse è l’ultima (This night could be my last one too)  

Dimmi che ti piace, baby (Tell me you like it, baby)  

Sono tuo, fa ciò che più ti va (I’m yours, do whatever you want)  

Un giorno tu mi ucciderai (One day you’ll kill me)  

Col tuo veleno (With your poison)  

“I took enough pictures.” Said the photographer after a couple of hours, smiling at his model.  

Kris looked at the guy in front of him, hair almost as black as coal and deep dark brown eyes, then stood up from the ground. He was used to being alone with other men, but the more he was with this human, the more he felt a weird feeling growing inside of him. He didn’t know how to name this sensation.  

“May I go, then?” Kris asked.  

“Yeah, sure. I’ll call you when the pictures are ready.” The photographer nodded. “If you need to recompose yourself, you can stay here, I’ll give you some privacy.”  

“No, don’t worry. It’s ok.”  

Kris glanced at the human, then went to the wardrobe area to change his clothes. He felt his eyes on his body. Why was he feeling so uncomfortable? God damn, he was a fucking succubus, he shouldn’t feel like this when a human was staring at him! Because that photographer was enchanted by his beauty, right? He should be.  

But Kris  perceived this specific human in a completely different way because he was looking at him differently, like he wanted to analyse him. Look right into his soul. If only he still had one.  

* * *

Another night, another lover, another soul to bring closer to damnation. It didn’t matter if it was a male or a female human being. He still enjoyed the physical proximity, the skin-on-skin contact, the moans. He was still a demon that fed on pleasure and sexual intercourses.   

But that night his mind flew to another place, even if the man above and inside him was extremely gorgeous and he liked how he moved and his attention on him. For a moment he saw that photographer instead of this random human. He didn’t even remember his name. But, just for a second, he imagined he was there, with him, loving him.  

He closed his eyes and let an intense moan out. No, he needed to focus on this other man, on his soul, his job was to corrupt it. Thus, he closed the image of the photographer in a small and secluded corner of his mind and gave all his attention to this stranger.  

At the same moment, not so far from where Kris was, that same photographer, whose name was Damon, was checking the photos he took of that beautiful and young man. His mind went back to a couple of days before when he had met him in a cafe in the centre of Ljubljana. He was alone at a table, his glance was wandering around observing the people in that place. Damon had noticed a trace of sombreness in his bright blue-greenish eyes.  

He decided to approach him, talk to him, be friendly to him before asking him to take some pictures. The guy seemed kind, but there was a trace of sadness even in his voice. And he could see it even more in his photos. Kris, that was his name, was trying to be seductive, but that gloom was still perceivable behind his piercing look.  

Damon stopped his scrolling on a photo where Kris was standing against a wall, head slightly tilted on a side, hair covering one of his eyes, an arm raised and bent behind his head. He was wearing a simple white shirt with long sleeves. His golden necklace with a purple heart was visible around his neck. The heart was hidden by the shirt, but he knew it was there because he had seen it.  

Maybe he could contact him and try to talk to him to see if he could help him in some way. He seemed like he needed to talk to someone.  

The next morning he tried to call him. Someone else answered the phone, he didn’t recognize the voice.  

“Hello?”  

“Hello. Is... is this Kris Guštin?” Damon asked.  

“This is his phone, yes, but I’m a police officer.”  

“A police officer? What happened?” He pressed, apprehension in his voice.  

“The guy was arrested yesterday evening. He started a fight in a pub. He was completely wasted, high and drunk.”  

Damon’s eyes opened widely. His face paled. “Is he still at the police station?”  

“Yes. Are you a friend of his?”  

“Kind of, yes.”  

“You can come and take him away, if you want. He won’t be charged, he’s an habitue here.”  

“I-I’m coming.” He quickly replied, then ended the call. An habitue? Drugs and alcohol? Was he so that deeply stuck in his bad situation?  

He immediately went to the police station, without thinking twice about it. Kris was locked in a cell, alone and with handcuffs on his wrists. He looked like a model even in that moment, back laid against the wall, vacant eyes staring in front of him like he was lost in his own world. And that usual gloom in them.  

“Your friend here came for you, Guštin.” Said the police officer.  

The demon turned to look at him and was surprised to see the photographer. He stood up and got closer to the entrance of the cell. The police officer freed him from the handcuffs, then gave him his phone back and let him go with Damon.  

“Thank you.” Whispered Kris once they got out of the police station. He let his phone slip inside one pocket in his trousers, then put his hands in his jacket pockets.  

“I know you don’t know me, but what happened? Is... is everything ok?” Damon was more than worried, Kris could hear the concern in his words.  

“Yes.” he replied. “Everything’s ok.”  

“You used drugs. You drank, a lot. That’s not ok.”  

“I’m fine.” He almost snarled at him, turning his head towards the photographer. “Why did you come, anyway?”  

“I wanted to talk to you.” Damon explained. “You seemed lonely and sad. I was worried.”  

Kris blinked and winced a bit. He was truly worried? His senses weren’t wrong, then.  

“I’m... fine, I told you.”  

“I know you don’t know me.” He repeated then continued. “But I’m here, if you want to talk to me.” The human smiled shyly, yet he could see friendliness in his eyes. He didn’t perceive any lust coming from him.  

“Thanks.” He murmured.  

* * *

In the next weeks Kris kept doing his job as succubus. Almost every day he had at least one new lover, male or female it didn’t matter. His sire chose each new prey for him and he couldn’t refuse.  

But he also started going out with the photographer. He learned his name, Damon. He was a lovely person. He didn’t talk much, however he compensated for it with his presence. His closeness was uncomfortable at the beginning, but after a few times the demon started appreciating it.  

The moments spent with Damon quickly became the most awaited ones for the succubus. He started laughing at his jokes, he talked more, he even shared some bits of his life, obviously he kept them pretty vague. He couldn’t tell him he was a demon. He needed this friendship. He missed being human, having friends to hang out with.  

Kris loved when Damon talked about his job. He could almost physically touch the passion he radiated when explaining his art and his vision.  

“And you saw all of this in me?”  

“Yes. And even more.” Damon nodded, then looked at him. “There’s a whole world behind those sad eyes and I wanted to eternalize them.”  

“A world behind them?”  

“Yes. I see that you are happier since we started hanging out, but there’s always a shadow in them, sometimes it’s nearer, sometimes it’s in the back, but it’s always present, lurking around. There’s something in your life that makes you feel sad, that maybe you’d like to change but for some reason you can’t.” He gently touched one of Kris’s hands.   

The demon was petrified. How...? He read right through him like an open book. Was it because he was an artist? Did artists like him have a different way of seeing life and people?  

“I want you to know that I’m still here for you, if you want to talk about whatever is making you feel this lost.” Damon looked right into his eyes. Kris felt his heart falter.  

He wanted to scream, to say out loud that he didn’t want to be a succubus anymore, that he was tired of being a slave and following every order his sire gave him, that he just wanted to become a human again, go back and not say “yes” to that contract. His mouth opened to speak, but no sounds left it.  

Damon was human. He wouldn’t understand. He would probably think that he was crazy, that drugs and alcohol destroyed his mind and his ability to think with clarity. He was his little happy bubble in between a huge red and black world overruled by pain, suffering and damnation.  

“It’s... complicated, Damon. Too complicated.” He whispered in the end, closing his eyes. A tear ran down his face, but never reached his chin because a gentle touch caught it.  

“When you are ready, Kris.” Damon murmured with a tender voice. “Only when you are ready. I’ll wait, even years, if it’s necessary for you to be comfortable enough to speak about it.”  

Kris startled and sobbed. His heart was hit by an invisible dagger. How could a human soul be so kind? How could two creatures so different like them meet? Damon behaved like a blessed soul from heaven with him, a damned soul transformed into a being of corruption.  

Damon took Kris into his arms and gently stroked his hair. The succubus grabbed his shirt, he was his safety net and he didn’t want to let him go.  

But he had to. His sire called him that evening and he punished him for behaving like a pathetic child with that human. This time he had three lovers, three muscular men. He felt stronger, the energy radiating from them was so delicious and so invigorating that he had to close his eyes because his head was spinning, but they were rough and violent with him. And so went on for seven days.  

Damon saw Kris again a week after their last afternoon together. He appeared in front of his door during a night storm, completely wet and with a tired, distant look in his eyes.  

“Kris, what happened?” He immediately asked.  

“Can-can I come in?” Kris replied, his voice was trembling and his entire figure was shaking. He wrapped his own arms around his body.  

Damon let him in, closing the door behind him, then rushed to get a big towel from the bathroom. He put it around Kris while guiding him to the couch. He sat down next to him.  

“Dear, what happened?” He asked again.  

Kris slowly showed his trembling arm, the interior part of his forearm was filled with small red holes, clearly signs of syringe pricks. His hand was twitching. Damon turned white.   

“Who did this to you?” He pressed, extremely concerned. “You need to go to a hospital, right now, you could have an overd-”  

“I’m fine.” Kris managed to say. “I-I will be. Few hours.”  

Kris moved his arm nearer to his body, but Damon grabbed his wrist with care. “You could die.”  

He shook his head vehemently. “I won’t die. I can’t die. Not like this.”  

“Kris, you are a human being, drugs can kill y-”  

“Stop worrying about me!” he shouted. “I will be fine.” He repeated it like a mantra. If he kept saying these words, they would become true eventually, wouldn’t they?  

He closed his eyes. “P-please, I just need a safe place to stay. You... you are the only person I know here.”   

Damon let him take a shower, a long and hot one. He also lent him some dry clothes and prepared some food for him. Kris ate without saying a word while keeping his eyes low. His hands suffered less spams, the drugs’ effects were dissolving pretty quickly.   

Damon continued observing Kris. The summer storm outside didn’t give any sign of wanting to calm down, in that moment there was a bright lightning and a loud thunder. The thunderbolt lighted up the whole room and Damon noticed a weird shadow around Kris, like he had some sort of wings closed behind his back. He shook his head, he must have been tired to see things that didn’t exist.  

An hour later Kris was sleeping in Damon’s bed, his face was more relaxed. Damon was totally awake on the other side of the bed. He was observing the younger man. He didn’t see anything else weird on him, but he remembered he noticed some weird shadows in some of the pictures he took months ago.   

Damon grabbed his laptop, opened it and searched for those photos. He observed them attentively and he saw something indeed. In some of them the “wings” were barely visible, but they were there. In other pictures he saw weird horns rise from his forehead. In some others there was some sort of tail around Kris.  

They were just shadows or reflections, but those elements were there. Was this possible? Or was it a weird coincidence? Kris didn’t have wings or a tail, or even horns! He turned to look at him while he was sleeping. Should he ask Kris what was that?  

Damon put away his laptop and laid down, turned towards Kris. In the dim light of the room he examined him: he seemed relaxed and peaceful while he was resting, he couldn’t see anything weird on him. Could he really be some supernatural creature? While he kept thinking about this possibility, he slowly drifted off, the tiredness winning on his restless whirl of thoughts. 

[somedayonbroadway]

Hey I was watching Leverage because of your fic, will you do a scene from when Park (Race) rescue a bunch of orphans? Or that episode in general? (Season 1 eps 6)

Leverage AU

I love this episode

Race ran towards Albert’s van, breathing hard as he kicked at the ground and shoved his fists in the pockets of his sweatshirt. “Racer!” Spot called behind him. “Hey—“

“I can’t just leave them there, Sean!” Race whimpered. “You have no idea what that’s like, h-how they live in that place! They treat those kids like vermin! You didn’t see them! You don’t know what that’s like—“

“Slow down, kid,” Spot hushed. “Hey… look at me, you are shaking…” he’d never seen the boy this worked up. He gently took the boy’s hands, but Race ripped away from him.

All Race could think about were all those little eyes looking at him, those hundred kids, waiting for him to do something, anything. They were on the ground, huddled together for warmth and Race didn’t do anything. He sniffled, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “They don’t have anybody…”

“Race…” Spot whispered. “Hey, I know it musta been hard growin’ up—“ Race scoffed, shaking his head. “But you are not alone anymore,” he insisted. “You got people now. A family.”

“I got lucky,” Race whispered. “I escaped. Most of those kids will die before they turn seventeen because there’s not enough food and supplies to go around,” he insisted. “H-how am I supposed ta just leave knowing that’s gonna happen ta them?”

Spot sighed. “We need ta get you back,” he insisted. “We gotta get a game plan, okay? Just… breathe, we’ll figure this out.”

Race shook his head and climbed into the van, curling up and closing his eyes, trying to stop seeing those little faces.

But he couldn’t.

—

Race snuck through that building silently. He sniffled and slipped back into that room looking around at all of those faces again. He swallowed hard. “Come with me, I can help you,” he whispered.

None of those kids moved. Race cursed a bit under his breath. These kids didn’t speak English. He sniffled and tried to close his eyes and focus. “U-uh… um…” he slipped the translation book out of his pocket and tried to speak. “ne boj se… učiniću tvoj paradajz sjajnim—“ The kids all started laughing at that but Race just glanced at them and continued. “Molim te pođi sa mnom!” Please come with me. That’s what he was trying to say. He motioned for them to come, but none of the kids moved.

He bit his lip, glancing through the crack in the door. “Um… Häagen-Dazs?” he asked.

“Häagen-Dazs!” the kids yelled back in reply, immediately standing up and rushing to follow Race to the door.

The young man smiled at that, opening the door, only to freeze when he found a man standing outside. The man grabbed him by the neck and Race immediately slammed the door shut behind him as he was yanked out of the room. He started fighting immediately, kicking and punching like Spot had taught him. But when it all came down to it, Race knew this man was stronger than him.

Still, he fought as hard as he could until the man had him pinned up against the wall opposite the room. But when Race saw a little boy staring through the crack in the door, he felt the adrenaline rush through him and suddenly it was like he had the strength of a thousand Spots. He shoved the man off of him, jumping up to swing from a loose pipe and knocked the man down a flight of stairs.

Choking a bit, Race rushed back into the room. “Okay! It’s gonna be okay! Come with me,” he insisted, leading the kids down to try and get out of the building, but he stopped them when he saw five men downstairs, hovering over three boxes of deadly assault rifles. He turned to the kids in a panic, but when he saw a familiar face back behind them, he sighed in relief.

“Come on, Race,” Katherine insisted, motioning for the boy to follow her.

Race nodded. “Go on, follow her!” he insisted as they retreated. But when one of the kids coughed, Race froze, looking down at the men who were now looking back at him. “Shit…”

He rushed to stay behind the kids as a voice yelled around the building. “We have you surrounded!”

Race paled, running after Katherine and the kids as they made their way out the back. Katherine spoke to the kids, telling them to hurry.

“Quiet! They have armed guards at that door—“ Race tried, but was cut off by Spot shoving the door open with an unconscious man.

“No they don’t,” Katherine corrected, guiding the kids to a bus that Jack was driving around for them. “Help me get them in!”

Spot grabbed Race as he rushed to do so, pulling him close. “You n’ me need to have a long talk after this, kid,” he insisted before wrangling the kids into the bus. Race climbed onto the back of the vehicle.

Jack started driving them second he got the all clear, but when he saw three armed men running at him. Race gasped. “Why’re we stopping! Go, Jack!”

Jack didn’t. And when the men raised guns to shoot, Race stood at the back of that bus, ready to use his body to shield those kids. He braced himself when he heard the shots fire, gasping when he felt no pain. He looked down at himself to make sure he hadn’t been shot, before looking back at Katherine who shrugged. “Prop truck,” she winked. “You’d be surprised at how fast you can switch out real guns with fake ones.”

With that, Jack smirked as he began driving again. “You did good, kid. But for the love of everything holy, you never go off on your own again, understood?!” he yelled.

Race smiled as Spot helped him up into the bus. “Understood…” Albert looked up at him from the backseat. Race sighed. “How’d you find me?”

“Put a tracker in your shoes, ya slippery bitch,” Albert said.

Race smiled and looked back at Spot. “Thanks. For coming for me.”

“I told you… you got a team—“

“More than a team,” Race smiled at him.

Spot melted and let Racer sit down beside him.

[emmathompsonsmartini]

Fluffiest fluff // Lucy finds out he’s ticklish

Established—but secret—relationship

Lucy did not want to get up. (Who ever wanted to get up in the morning anyway?) The warmth of the bed and the comfort of her position was so much more appealing than the cold floor and chilling, outside air.

Her mind was not as willing to go back to sleep as her body was. She groaned internally. She threw the blanket off of her bare legs (she was wearing shorts, don’t let your mind wander) and swung herself off the bed.

Coffee. Coffeecoffeecoffee.

Morning priorities.

She ran her hand over her face and pushed herself off the bed. Her short legs made all of two steps before she felt a tug at her hand.

She stopped, mid-step, and looked over her shoulder. He was still asleep. She smiled and started walking again.

“Ah!” She shrieked as he, literally, pulled her and she tumbled back into the bed. She giggled. “Flynn!”

It was a lot of work getting out of the bed. She did not want to jump back just to have to make the decision all over again.

He pulled her closer to him, trapping her legs between his own. He nuzzled his face in her neck. He sighed.

She huffed, glad he was comfortable. (Sarcasm.) “Flynn, I need to get up.”

He didn’t say anything. She felt his breath against her neck—it tickled—and tried to scoot away.

She smiled. “Flynn...?” She said sweetly.

His hand, which was laid on her stomach, twitched. “Hmm?” He hummed after a beat.

“No good morning kiss?”

If he was looking, she’d have bat her eyelashes at him.

He lifted his head sleepily and looked at her with skepticism. “What did you say?”

His morning accent made her swoon and for a moment she forgot her tactics. (He totally did that on purpose.)

Regaining her senses, she repeated herself. He smiled and cupped her face with the hand that was draped over her stomach. He scrunched his nose a little with a playful smirk before placing his lips on hers. This was a good morning kiss. A kiss of someone who was happy to see the other. A kiss of someone who didn’t want to let go.

(Literally in this case.)

And Lucy, again, almost forgot what she was trying to do. She cut off the kiss and leaped from the bed.

Well. Half of her made it out of the bed. Her shoulders and head laid on the floor next to the bed while her legs where still on the bed—still tangled with his.

She laid there staring at the ceiling. A scowl hid her embarrassment. She tried to pull her legs from his grasp but he only tightened his hold. When she looked at him, he was peering over the side of the bed, a huge smile that said “I win”. He held out his hand. She grabbed it and pulled her back up into the bed.

“Garcia Flynn!” She whimpered with a laugh. “I need to get up!”

“Says who?” He complained. “It’s cold out there.”

“Well, if you’d let me up, I could put some clothes on.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Someone’s going to come looking for me.” She was grasping at straws, she knew. But now she was awake, she desperately needed coffee. “And I need my coffee.”

“So, let them find you, moja ljubav,” He sighed as he held her. “Ostani sa mnom.”

“Kava, Garcia, kava.” She was wining and kicked and rugged to free her legs. She smiled, a pretty but wicked one, and she looked up at him. He opened one eye. “Are you ticklish?”

Both eyes opened. And he shook his head quickly. “No. No, no, I am not.”

Lucy squinted her eyes. His ears turned red. Lucy smiled again. “Yeah you are.”

“No, I’m not.” Lucy held up her hands and wiggled them in front of him “Lucy...don’t.”

“What’s the matter? I thought you weren’t ticklish.”

“I’m not—but I’m not responsible for any injuries if you try.”

“That means you’re ticklish.”

She started at his stomach but he didn’t budge, didn’t even twitch. She reached up to his neck but nothing happened. She tried the bottom of his feet. Nothing. Her hands fell to her side. She was stumped.

Flynn sighed at her giving up and continued to cuddle her.

“Lucy Preston!”

He squirmed around until she was able to free her legs and sprint to the other side of the room. Flynn breathed heavily and cursed under his breath, in Croatian, it sounded like.

“You will not tell anybody!” He pointed a finger at her. He stood up and walked to her. Before he reached her, she sprinted out the door.

Free at last!

She was free, he was not. She found a weakness.

Randomly, she would come up behind him and pinch his sides or tickle him and he’d jump and tell her she was gonna get it.

(Get what exactly?)

He found out she was just as ticklish and it became War. A war that neither were winning and somehow both losing.

(If one could count that as losing.)

[eurovisiondivision]

Eurovision 2018 | May 10th | Semi-final 2

Put on the shortest dress you have and then put on a longer dress on top of it, only to rip it off dramatically halfway through the night, because it’s that time of the year again when all of Europe battles for musical supremacy in this giant spectacle we call the Eurovision Song Contest.

This year has a line-up of a whopping 43 songs - not since 2008 and 2011 have we had that many different countries participate.

This fabulous week continues on Thursday with the Second Semi-Final, where 18 countries will be fighting over 10 available spots in the Grand Final on Saturday.

So what is there to say about these 18 contestants? What can we expect to see tonight? I’ve carefully selected a memorable lyric from each song. That way, you won’t have to pay attention to the words tonight - because you will already know them. Like each year, I will also hand out an award to each act. After all, even when your song is abysmal, you must still be the best at something.

NORWAY | Alexander Rybak - “That’s How You Write a Song”

Summary: A pretty disappointing masterclass.

Mind the lyric: “Step one: believe in it, and sing it all day long.” The first step to writing a song is singing the song? Now, hold on, Alex, doesn’t that mean that you already have a song written? Oh, and should I be writing this down? “Step two: just roll with it.” All right, so the second step is the same as the first step, isn’t it? “And that’s how you write a song.” Sorry, give me that again, I must have missed a bit in the middle. No, that was it? Ah. Okay. Yeah, I have my doubts, Alex.

The “I’ll Be Back”-Award: We’re convinced Europe is sure to recognize this young man from back in 2009, when he won Eurovision with the highest score of all time. That fiddle tune makes “Fairytale” one of the most iconic winners of all time. Of course, the way points are attributed changed a few years ago, and we suspect Alexander is actually just back to break his record. The only other artist to ever win twice was Ireland’s Johnny Logan, with “What’s Another Year” in 1980 and “Hold Me Now” in 1987. Other returning winners performed a lot worse. What will Rybak’s fate be? Decide for yourself.

Award for the Most Invisible Instrument: If you were afraid that Rybak had left his violin back in Norway, you needn’t worry. After miming playing the drums and the guitar, he suddenly has the violin in his hands.

Award for the Most Abominable Advice: A songwriting lesson from Alexander Rybak sounds like an amazing idea, but the reality elicits little more than “is that it?”

ROMANIA | The Humans - “Goodbye”

Summary: After an excruciatingly long into, this song slowly builds to a rocky chorus about the beautiful things in life, but it all comes across as unintentionally moralising.

Mind the lyric: “Why don’t you see the beauty that surrounds you everywhere?/Why can’t you feel the joy in all the small things people share?” This might be the single worst method of cheering up a depressed person. “Hey, why aren’t you happy?” I don’t know, woman, that’s the entire point of depression.

The Shop Window Award: It’s not the first time it has happened -  DJ Bobo did something similar in 2007 for Switzerland - but Romania makes an attempt at filling the stage with more than 6 performers by wheeling out an army of mannequins.

SERBIA | Sanja Ilic & Balkanica - “Nova deca”

Summary: Ethnic wailing, interspersed with a juicy dance beat.

Mind the lyric: “Svet je naš i vreme prestaje da žuri kad si sa mnom ti,” means “this is our world, and time moves slower when you’re with me.” This is hopeful song about the “new children” who will determine the future and who can ensure that our world remains beautiful.

Award for the Most Absent Artist: We challenge you: watch this act, and tell us who of these 6 performers is Sanja Ilic. If you thought it was one of the three women, you’re dreadfully wrong. If you thought it was the singer, or even the drummer, then we have to disappoint you yet again. And if you then thought: “it has to be that odd-looking old feller with that strange flute!”, even then you’re wrong. Sanja Ilic is the composer of this song and is nowhere to be seen on stage. We’ve been deceived and I want my money back.

SAN MARINO | Jessika ft. Jenifer Brening - “Who We Are”

Summary: Song about being yourself and tuning out the haters. There’s cute little robots on stage, because why wouldn’t there be robots on stage?

Mind the lyric: “Bullied from the moment we were born.” This has to be one of the bleakest first lines we’ve ever heard at Eurovision, and that’s saying a lot because in 2016 a song won with the lyric “strangers come to your house and kill you all”.

Mind this lyric too: “If they’re dissing you on Twitter/Don’t get mad, don’t be bitter/Don’t give up or be a quitter.” Jenifer Brening (or ‘Jeni B’ for the fans) has become an icon for the Eurovision community already. Remember that name, because her rap career launches tonight.

Award for the Most Shady Selection: San Marino is such a small country that they’ve sent the same singer to Eurovision four times and have recruited singers from different countries more than once. That they were to organise a national selection was surprising to say the least, although it made a little more sense when they revealed the selection was open to participants from all over the world. They streamed the show onto the internet from a small studio in Bratislava, and although there was actually a Sammarinese contestant, the winner was a Maltese singer (who had attempted seven times but never won the Maltese selection), and a German girl who was actually participating with a different song, but somehow got roped into this one as well.

DENMARK | Rasmussen - “Higher Ground”

Summary: The perfect song for a musical about vikings, with five men side-stepping in unison and getting lost in a snowstorm. If it were me, I would’ve gone even further with it.

Mind the lyric: “Call it, surrender/Still won’t feel like defeat/Men laying down their swords/Each of their own accords.” Rasmussen sings about the legend of the pacifist viking Magnus Erlendsson, who controversially thought that some issues could be solved by talking about them instead of stabbing each other. We imagine he was stabbed for that suggestion.

Award for the Best Beard: Jonas Flodager Rasmussen (or just Rasmussen for friends) has a glorious red beard, which fits the song to a T. His background singers have also fully committed to the viking aesthetic.

The Free Joke Award: Start googling pictures of Tormund Giantsbane from Game of Thrones now! You could still be the first out of the seven thousand people making that exact joke on Twitter tonight! We do admit, Rasmussen bears a resemblance to the fictional wildling.

RUSSIA | Julia Samoylova - “I Won’t Break”

Summary: A sort of unremarkable song which raises a lot of uncomfortable questions.

Mind the lyric: “Even in the darkest night/I can see a light.” Would you look at that; it’s the second year in a row that Julia has rhymed “night” and “light” (last year the line was “after the night/there’s a light”). Unfortunately, that’s the most interesting thing to say here.

The “I’ll Be Back” Award (fourth place): That’s right: fourth place. Julia Samoylova was selected as Russia’s representative last year, but because she was on the Ukrainian blacklist, she was not allowed in the country and could not perform. It was unclear if Russia was just using her as a puppet in their political game to make Ukraine look bad. After a long wait, they revealed they’d be sending Julia again, so at least they made good on that promise.

Award for the Most Heinous Habit: Russia is one of those countries that has never missed out on the grand final. However, this entry is so weak that it wouldn’t surprise us to see that streak come to an end. Azerbaijan ended their perfect run on Tuesday. Perhaps Russia will be the next country to lose their 100% qualification rate.

Award for the Most Problematic Presentation: Because of her muscular atrophy, Julia has been in a wheelchair since she was a child. The creative team behind this entry wasn’t sure what to do with that, and so they decided the best course of action would be to hide her disability. Because a wheelchair wasn’t glamorous enough, they’ve decided to turn her into a giant papier-mâché mountain.

MOLDOVA | DoReDos - “My Lucky Day”

Summary: Hilarious pantomime comedy about two men who lust after the same woman, who is two-timing both of them.

Mind the lyric: “We can be forever number one/Together we can make a dream come true.” I mean, yeah, I have had this exact dream. Haven’t we all?

The DIY Award: Clearly, there’s one way to have fun with a PAX wardrobe. Honestly, once you’ve put together a monster like that, your relationship can withstand anything.

Award for the Horniest Horn: Last year Moldova blew us all away by finishing third with the return of Sunstroke Project, although they did have Epic Sax Guy to thank for their success. This year, the trumpet is their instrument of choice, which comes paired with a great little dance. After last year, many people are expecting to see Moldova finish in the top 10 again. Because we’re so unsure about this year’s winner, we can’t even exclude the possibility of going to Chisinau next year.

THE NETHERLANDS | Waylon - “Outlaw in ‘em”

Samenvatting: This wannabe-cowboy was clearly born on the wrong continent. He wishes he was American, and so do we, because it meant he wouldn’t be here.

Mind the lyric: “Everybody’s got a little frontman swagger/Stone cold rollin’ like a young Mick Jagger.” Can we please stop talking about Mick fucking Jagger? We understand that there’s not a lot that rhymes with ‘swagger’, but here’s a controversial suggestion: let’s stop wanting to use the word ‘swagger’.

The “I’ll Be Back”-Award (runner-up): With “Calm After the Storm”, the Common Linnets unexpectedly brought the Netherlands a second place in 2014. Waylon and his co-star Ilse De Lange don’t get along all that well, and so the Netherlands decided to send Waylon by himself. It’s probably for the best, because this guy seems like an all-around terrible person to be around.

Award for the Most Problematic Presentation (runner-up): There’s been a lot of hubbub about Waylon’s act this past week. For this America-inspired country song, Waylon decided to have four black dancers back him u. Even if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable to watch a white performer on a pedestal pointing at them while singing “everyone has a little outlaw in them”, it’s hard to deny that it’s all a little embarrassing. Especially the questionable decision to have the dancers krumping is hard to make sense of, because ‘country’ doesn’t immediately call to mind these urban hip hop moves.

AUSTRALIA | Jessica Mauboy - “#We Got Love”

Summary: A solid pop song that is elevated by a charismatic performer.

Mind the lyric: “Love is stronger than fire.” That’s what you’re saying now, darling, but just you wait until you’ve seen Hungary.

The “I’ll Be Back”-Award (third place): Australia has been competing in the Eurovision Song Contest sinds 2015, but their first time on the European stage with an act of their own was in 2014. Although Jessica Mauboy performed “Sea of Flags” well, she couldn’t earn any points. That’s why they finally had her return to pick up some real votes.

Award for the Most Segregated Soloist: Jessica shares the stage with nothing but a few halogen light bulbs. Other than that, it’s just her. Her infectious smile and her powerful vocals are all she needs to fill the big stage with.

GEORGIA | Ethno-Jazz Band Iriao - “For you”

Summary: Five drunk uncles take each other by the neck and sing a gorgeous polyphonic lullaby. We can imagine it’d be even nicer if these were our own uncles.

Mind the lyric: “Sheni gulistvis”, these gentlemen sing, which should have been the song’s title, rather than the translated “for you”.

Award for the Best Band Name: Some artists keep you guessing as to what kind of music they perform. Iriao goes easy on us, calling themselves “Ethno-Jazz Band Iriao”, and look at that, suddenly you know everything you need to know.

POLAND | Gromee ft. Lukas Meijer - “Light me Up”

Summary: At some point after one AM, one drunk uncle finds his way behind the turntables and pretends like he’s a DJ, while another cousin you don’t really know tries to keep everyone dancing by shouting “yeah!” and “jump!” and although the entire things is incredibly cringeworthy, everyone has been drinking so much that you can’t help but have fun.

Mind the lyric: “A lip of faith.” We’re willing to forgive dodgy pronunciations of the English language, but according to eurovision.tv, the official lyric is not “a leap of faith”, maar actually “a lip of faith”. We’ll leave it to you to imagine what that means.

Award for the Blandest Banger: There’s nothing really special here, but even with Lukas Meijer’s weak vocals, this dance track has the potential to connect with the audience. The two performers are absolute crowd pleasers and it’s obvious that they’re having a good time on stage. That awkward snake dance that DJ Gromee does, has the potential to be a viral hit tonight.

MALTA | Christabelle - “Taboo”

Summary: Dark act about breaking out of your metaphorical cage.

Mind the lyric: “And I know and I know and I know/That you see my life in foreign eyes.” Christabelle’s goal is to break the stigma that surrounds mental health. She admits that it’s difficult to talk about issues that aren’t visible on the surface. Like a number of other acts tonight, this song is about taking off your masks and coming out with the truth: “Let our guards down/It’s time to break the taboo.”

The “Multiple Moments in Malta” Award: In Malta, it is considered a tremendous honour to represent your country. So much so that the same artists show up in their national selection year after year, hoping for a shot at the big festival. If you go seven times without winning, you might end up in San Marino by accident, but Christabelle was lucky enough to succeed on her third try.

Award for the Most Commonplace Composer: It wouldn’t be Eurovision if there wasn’t a song in contention written by the Swedish composer Thomas Gustafson (or G:Son for his friends). You’ll probably know him best from his work on “Euphoria”, 2012’s winner, but a grand total of thirteen of his songs have been performed at the contest, only one of which stranded in the semi-finals.

HUNGARY | AWS - “Viszlàt nyar”

Summary: Post-hardcore screamo metal, it’s a first at the Song Contest, but we never expected it to be the perfect genre for Eurovision.

Mind the lyric: “Játsszunk nyílt lapokkal végre”, or “let’s put our cards on the table”. That’s how this song starts. Its construction is like a dialogue, with verses from the perspective of an old, dying man (“my ship is heading away from here”), while the furious choruses are meant to evoke the frustrated inability to change anything of his son. He is outraged at the world (“that we would be together was just a lie”). The title itself means “goodbye, summer”.

Award for the Coolest Key Change: That’s right - in the last chorus this metal song goes up the octave. It’s a Eurovision trope that is sorely lacking this year, with only a few songs going for the modulation and this song being the absolute best of the lot.

Award for the Most Fabulous Fire: Leave the heating off, because if my sources are correct, there is so much pyro in this act that you might even feel it radiating from your television screens.

The Underdog Award: By Eurovision standards this is a pretty heavy track. Thanks to a brilliant bit of crowd surfing, we would genuinely not be surprised to see this go down a storm on Saturday night, settling in firmly at the top of the scoreboard.

LATVIA | Laura Rizzotto - “Funny Girl”

Summary: Sensual moves that stretch a bit thin beyond the minute mark, combined with a song that struggles to get to three minutes.

Mind the lyric: “What can I do/To make you feel that way about me too?” She tries to sell herself as a seductive temptress, and yet Laura’s crush keeps paying more attention to another woman. Laura is nothing but “the funny girl” to him - a girl he can laugh with, but never a potential bed partner. I suspect he honestly thinks she’s just a bit too desperate.

The Rice Prize: Because her name is “Rizzotto”. Do you get it? It’s funny because that sounds like “risotto”, and that’s a rice dish. Yeah. Yeah, I know, it’s a weak joke, but there’s genuinely not a lot to say about this track except for how it makes a really good pee break.

SWEDEN | Benjamin Ingrosso - “Dance You Off”

Summary: It’s almost as if this Swedish boy is on a completely different stage from his competitors, that’s how impressive the backdrop to his sweet moves is. Oh, and the song itself is pretty catchy too.

Mind the lyric: “I just want to feel the mood/Girl, with anyone but you.” Benjamin and his girl just had a little fight, and to take his mind off the situation, Benjy is going out to have a little angry dance (“I’m going to dance, dance, dance you off.”) And dancing is this boy’s forte. His hips move as if they were engineered especially for it.

Award for the Most Perfect Performance: We already said it, but in Sweden they definitely know what they’re doing. For the umpteenth year in a row, they’ve brought a modern song with a perfect rehearsed visual spectacle. Since 2011, they’ve only ended outside of the top 5 a single time. This might be the fifth year in a row that they top the scoreboard on Saturday night.

MONTENEGRO | Vanja Radovanovic - “Inje”

Summary: Some sort of bizarre inside out version of “Let it Go”, though we mention that mostly because of the singer’s icy blue suit.

Mind the lyric: “Džaba jorgan tijelo grije/Promaja kroz dušu bije” In this song, Vanja Radovanic sings about how cold his bed feels without his lover: “the bedspread may warm my body, but a cold draught blows through my soul.”

Award for the Most Successful Style: Montenegro usually does well when they send a song in this genre. In 2014 and 2015 they made the final with similar “balkan ballads”. We assume that at least one song with traditional songs will make it to the final, and this might be the most likely choice.

Award for the Funniest Feller: When asked for his hobbies, Vanja answered: “I like drinking and running away from children”, which has to be the most relatable answer anyone has ever given. Whether his dry sense of humor is a case of “lost in translation”, we don’t know, but we definitely like it.

SLOVENIA | Lea Sirk - “Hvala, ne!”

Summary: This chick has attitude in spades, and she drops some sick moves on this surprisingly arresting trap beat.

Mind the lyric: “Moje ime je Lea in za vas imam nov lik.” Lea sings and raps about, you’ve guessed it, not hiding behind masks. She starts by introducing herself: “My name’s Lea, and I have a new character for you”. She proceeds to talk about herself as some kind of superhero who wants everyone to be themselves. Our Slovenian is a bit rocky, so for all we know, we’ve interpreted the lyrics entirely wrong. We are, however, certain that the title means “thanks, but no.”

Award for the Suckiest Silence: Lea tries out a little trick that has been attempted at the Eurovision before, but has never been especially successful. Halfway through the song, she starts pretending as if something went wrong on the technical side of things, but she pushes through. It’s a bit cheap and confusing, we reckon.

UKRAINE | Melovin - “Under the Ladder”

Summary: This teen Dracula keeps an eye open for superstitious reasons.

Mind the lyric: “You can see that whatever the weather/That the wind’s always there/Always fair/Oh-oh-oh.” If you try hard enough, you might be able to make out a few English words in this song. Mélovin has genuinely been trying to improve his pronunciation over the past few months, and it has works. He’s still not pronouncing the ’s’ in ‘always”, but someone clearly taught him how to say ‘fair’ correctly. Good job, Mélovin, we’re proud of you.

Mind this lyric too: “Fire lasts forever.” Fire is a popular element this year, whether it is in the lyrics or as a part of the stage act. In this case, it’s both!

Award for the Most Outstanding “Oh-oh-oh”: When Mélovin raises his arms up to the sky and starts singing “oh-oh-oh”, it makes you want to join him. And by the end of the song, we guarantee you’ll effortlessly be able to join him in that chorus of “oh-oh-oh”s.

The Bram Stoker Award: Pale skin, hair dyed jet black and a single white contact lens in his left eye. Mélovin is committing to the creepy vampire aesthetic. And as we always say, you either go all the way, or you go home. We’ve seen a lot of piano’s at Eurovision; pianos that keep playing when people walk away from them, pianos that have a woman hidden inside and most importantly, pianos that catch fire. But we’ve never seen a piano that doubles as a coffin before. And that’s the kind of entrepreneurial originality that we desperately need in 2018.

So there we have it: 18 hopefuls with only 10 places in the final.You know who they are now and you know what to expect from them. Tune in tonight and see who makes it through the first semi-final!

In addition to that, you’ll be treated to a snippet from some of the direct qualifiers. Germany has selected a third-rate Ed Sheeran, bringing an emotionally manipulative song about his deceased father. France will be represented by a duo who manage to elevate a small story about a refugee girl into a magnificent sing-along experience. Finally, there’s Italy: a frantic rant against terrorism, but just as well against the way we treat it.

Enjoy!

(This article was first published on Newsmonkey.be in the original Dutch.)

[revolucijaizkreveta-blog]

O lošim dečkima kakvih ima puno vani

''Kiša pada vani, loših dečki ima vani''- repa Dragi iz Connecta misleći da se riječi vani i vani rimuju. No na stranu to, loših dečki stvarno ima vani i ja naletim na njih. Neki dan sam na cesti pokupila frajera. Došao se poigrati s mojim psom pa sam mu uvalila broj: ''Znaš, ti bi si mogao zapisati moj broj'' - kažem ja. Činio se zgodan. Zapravo ne znam je li zgodan ili je samo dobro obučen pa je ukupan dojam dobar. It's a dejt. Sigurno je loš dečko jer loših dečki ima vani. Frend već 48 sati ne dolazi k sebi što sam frajeru na ulici uvaljala broj i to onako trijezno usred dana jer kako kaže, to se još niti jednom muškarcu nikada nije dogodilo. Drugi frend, koji je pak bio prisutan već dva dana vrišti: ''To je bila filmska scena!! Jeo ti je iz ruke ko pesek!'' A lik kojem sam uvaljala broj mi je poslao SMS u kojem kaže da mi dobro ide uvaljivanje brojeva. I da sam sexy, al to znamo da jesam pa nije potrebno to dodatno naglašavati. Sve u svemu to je bio jedan kvalitetan hustle s moje strane. Fakat loših dečki ima vani, baš je moj susjed jučer prek ceste vikao mojoj mami: ''Teta, skinuo sam se s Metadona!'' No comment. Onda je tu i tip zbog kojeg sam ostavila bivšeg dečka. So tall and handsome as hell, he's so bad but he does it so well. Dečka sam ostavila radi njega jer dečko, također loš dečko, nije znao cijeniti moj intelekt nego je stalno prigovarao da trkeljam i tolerirao moje trkeljanje, ne znam zašto je uopće bio sa mnom jer sex nam je izgubio svaku čar već nakon dvije godine te beskonačne, trule veze prožete svađama oko njegove bivše, njegove susjede u koju se zaljubio i mog ljubavnika. On je isto bio loš dečko, baš kao i ljubavnik mi. Dečko je bio amaterski diler droge pa sam živjela u vječnom strahu da ću biti upletena, a ljubavnik je bio pivo-tučnjava-nogomet tip koji je jednom iščupao koš za smeće i nekog tipa njime spremio u komu. Kiša je te večeri padala vani, a loših dečki stvarno ima vani, pa ti beba rađe doma ostani. Evo ostani i vani se rimuje. Napredak! Vratimo se na tipa zbog kojeg sam ostavila lošeg dečka. Osim što je bio so tall and handsome as hell predstavio se kao moj spasitelj, spasitelj od loših dečki. Trebalo mi je dugih devet mjeseci da ga se for real dočepam, a onda je počela idila. Toliko smo se neprimjereno žvalili u lokalnom popularnom kafiću da smo morali reći konobaru: ''Oprostite na ponašanju, ali mi smo ovo čekali devet mjeseci''. Bio je jedan od onih s kojima se razumiješ bez  riječi i dao mi je sve. Obećavao svašta i onda mi u jednom trenu to oduzeo jer ''on je sjeban'' i ''mora biti sam''. Funny you're the broken one when I'm the one who needed saving... Zato sam i uvaljala broj liku s početka priče jer ovaj je loš dečko, a vjerojatno i ovaj s kojim ovih dana idem na dejt. Ali ima dobre tenisice pa mu dajem šansu. Bio je tu i jedan sedam godina mlađi od mene, Ok dečko, simpa, zgodan u tri lepe (po mom lošem ukusu), ali imao je problem s drogom. Nije bio baš za centar za krizna stanja, ali tip osobe koji dođe ujutro u pet popodne na kavu i trese se jer je noć prije pretjerao sa speedom. Opet loš dečko. I evo danas, kiša će čini se vani, a kad je kiša znamo da loših dečki ima vani pa onda radije, beba, doma ostani... Read the full article

[corrallyfebruary]

Update (Storytime)Very long!

Da Sam YouTuber, naslov bi bio "My crazy neighbor wanted to beat me! Clickbait!

Već danima i nedjeljama razmišljam da objavim šta se desilo tog dana ali nikako da to i uradim. Čekam i čekam. Prokrastinacija ili lenjost? Ili šta će drugi da kažu? Koji drugi? Kao da ovi ovde ili bilo ko drugi gleda moje profile? Ceo život da ti prođe u "Ne smem ovo da kažem, ko zna šta će drugi da kažu?", "Ne smem ovako da se slikam, ko zna šta će drugi da kažu?", "Ne smem ovim da se bavim, ko zna šta će drugi da kažu?" Koji drugi? Da ne možeš i ne smeš biti srećan zbog drugih? Kojih? Ja ove ljude istinski ne poznajem, niti govorim sa njima. A ni oni sa mnom. A živim ovde 16 godina. Nemojte sad ni da počinjete. Ja imam socijalnu fobiju, tako da pliz, leave me alone. No hard feelings.

Ali razmišljam o tome svakoga dana. Tako ja razmišljam o nečemu danima dok to ne obavim i skinem sa duše? He he! Sa uma. I onda sam kul. Razmišljam da skrinšotujem i postujem (srpski jezik bre lol) na Ig pa neka.

Ili pak nedostatak memorije na ovom uređaju. Provela sam skoro 10 sati ažurirajući, brišući, i instalirajući aplikacije. I odlučih da konačno objavim post. Istinu iz mog ugla. (I iz ugla moje majke i tetke) ali neću njih da mešam, da ne mrze njih ako mene mrze. Pa šta? Neka me mrze. * Add here Bhad Bhabie Hi bitch! Bye bitch! * Lol Za šta? Ne znam? Ja sam samo jedna i jedina mlada devojka u komšiluku 😁 Pa jesam, još uvek sam mlada, ali to ne znači da sam ok i da mi je sve potaman.

Let's cut to the chase

Pre dve nedelje, tj. pretprošlog utorka babi su zasmetali mačići ( kao i svakoga dana, ništa novo, ništa lepo od nje). Tako ona voli da stalno izlazi (ne znam za šta) i da ih juri i da se "dere" na njih 😥 I ne zna da zatvara ulazna vrata za sobom. I tako ono njeno "Šta ga ih!?" , "Kuku majko!" , "Sve ću vas pobijem!" , "Jebem vam majku!" , "Jebali vas bogovi usta!" Ta joj je omiljena. To i nama stalno priča kad se iznervira. To su reči iz usta jedne babe od 76god.

Kad ona psuje "Jebali vas bogovi usta!" , ja iz druge sobe cheer and clap "Oral sex! Oral sex!" Lol 😁

Da nastavimo dalje. I tako (što bi rek'o Radašin) Moji lepi su ulovili i doneli neku pticu. Bravo! 👏👏 Stalno love ili guštere ili miševe ili ptice. Sad face, but that's life. Be proud when your cat brings you "present".

I ona je (baba) umesto da baci tu pticu u kantu, uzela da maše njome pred ovom drugom babom-komšinicom-rođakom "Hej Lj.R.2 (imaju iste inicijale btw) vidi šta donele ove mačketine!" Obe mrze mačke iz dna duše. Duše? What soul? Lol

I ja tu izađem i "Bravo! Pametni mali! Korisni mali lovci!" Smeškam se, a iznutra počinje napad panike. "Bravo! Korisne mace, tako treba!" A one... Njih dve izbečene! Ne kapiraju. Za šta si izbečena? Šta ti ko radio? Kakva faca. Sad si pokazala stvarno lice (ova druga, ne moja baba, ona je svoje lice odavno pokazala). Počela je da se dere skreeech glas joj ko unukin. Misophonia hits me hard 🙉

I tu ti ja izvadim telefon i počnem da snimam.

A pre toga sam uzela pticu i bacila je u kantu.😔

I ova ti zvaćemo je Lj.R.2 "Gle! Gle! Gle šta radi!? Bezobrazno! Ću te prijavim! I tu se njena drugarica stvori " Snimanje je zabranjeno!"

E pa nije. To je dokaz. Snimanje je zabranjeno u slučaju ako piše "Zabranjeno snimanje, fotografisanje i osmatranje" (I naravno zabranjeno je snimanje seksualnog čina bez znanja i dozvole te osobe)

Ja vičem (zato što su bile dalje) "To što ste stariji, ne znači i da ste u pravu!" To je tačno. To se zove Gerontokratija.

A ona: " Ma nemoj! Nego ti si! Sad sam te vid'la kakva si! To od tebe nisam očekivala! 😮 😕 Um? Šta? Ne smem da vloggujem? Ne smem da fotografišem? Ali to sam ja! Sad znaš. Za šta si se naljutila i uvredila? Koja glupost?

Kažem: "Za ovih 16 godina koliko živimo ovde trovali su mi mačke, (a prolazne mačore takođe, ili su ih odvodili ko zna gde). Gde su njihove majke i babe?"

Lj.R.2 "Pa ne znam idi ih traži!"

(Nažalost, pod zemljom su. Iznenadna smrt, kojoj prethodi snažan vrisak mačke, povraćanje ili pak iznenadno mršavljenje. To sve ukazuje na trovanje. Namerno trovanje slabijeg i manjeg od tebe.)

Kažem: "Svi vole i imaju mačke, (osim ovog glupog komšiluka) svi na internetu vole mace!"

A Lj.R.2 skreeech "Ja nEmAm iNtErNeT!!!"

Oookay.

Calm down woman.

Jel' si se požalila svim tvojim rođacima, komšinicama i drugarici na mene i moje mačke? Jesi? Good for you!

Eh. Pisala bih ovo sve na Twitteru, ali nemam mesta za app, a i neka jednom ne bude tajna ispovest.

"Moje drage komšije" Šta je to? Nikad čula? Ne znaju ni da se jave. Svi imaju kola, a niko da poveze moju majku i tetku u gaj/brdo/ranč ili kako god ga već zovete. Dali su 100k na taxi. Njen (Lj.R.2) sin nikada nije išao da obiđe moju majku, da pita jel' treba pomoć.

A taj/ti Z.S i R.S osim što je trovao, upao je na tuđ posed I gurao naše staro trulo drvo sa svojim ocem i još nekim. Naše drvo u našem dvorištu. E to je trebalo da se snimi i tuži na sud. Jer, bogati izgleda da mu je to drvo narušavalo aesthetic.

Dalje.

Kasnije tog dana vidim ponovo Lj.R.2 i kažem: " Izvinite! Hej Izvinite! Samo još nešto!"

A ona: "Šta 'oćeš!?

Rekoh: "Nisam jedina koja ima mačke. Ima jedna žena Mira tu blizu (kojoj komšije preko puta i pored nje takođe joj truju i ubijaju mace 😢) , a takođe ima i jedna žena pored groblja (ona ima i kučiće). I pre nego što stigoh da završim rečenicu, Lj.R.2: "Ma ne zanima me! Ja neću da ih vidim ovde!" (Nije ni čula šta sam rekla) Nije konstantovala 😁 Ništa nije smešno, ali eto ja volim smajlije. Kažem i deda M. je voleo mačke, ako ti nisi.

Ja kažem: "Ja ih tu ne dovodim, ne kažem im ja Hej idite tamo!"

"Što nisi došla da snimiš kad su mi tu napravili nered po terasi? Kad mi je neka tvoja mačka iscepala mrežu i upala u kuću i uneredila novi trosed?" (Možda treba da ga plastificiraš? Ili da ogrneš sa ćebetom? I meni stalno zaseru, pa šta, idem za njima i kupim)

Rekoh: "Možda je Žuća od R?"

"Ne! Ne! Nije on!"

Okay... Sheesh!

LJ.R.2. "Gde si bila kad su mi poganili tu terasu?"

Poganili. Poganili. Rekoh: "A šta vam znači to poganili? Jel' šta znači to?" A ona nešto maje glavom.

"Neću da mi bude ovde ciganmala"( jel' se tako kaže?)

Rude. And racist. Koliko ja znam kod mnogih cigana/ Roma je lepo i uređeno.

Kažem: "Znam kako je, ali tako je, k'o da ja ne znam. Imamo puno krša". Trebaće mnogo vremena, ne može se to odjednom srediti. Mi smo horderi btw.

Sigurno je lek počeo da deluje jer je odjednom počela drugim tonom da mi se obraća. (Gospođa popije lek kad se uznemiri i doživi stres. Hmm. Meni je to svakodnevnica, ali koga briga)

Kaže skočio joj je pritisak, pa je morala da uzme lek. (See I was wright)

Kažem: "Pa i mladima skače pritisak. (Šta 'oćeš? Kol'ko godina imaš? 50 godina si starija od mene) Kažem ni meni nije dobro."

A ona tu nešto maje glavom "To me ne zanima! Imaš majku, nek te vodi kod lekara." A jel' kad je u pitanju tuđe zdravlje, ne zanima te. 😒

Lj.R.2: "Sad sam te videla kakva si. Ovo od tebe nisam očekivala. Razočarala si me. Smatrala sam te za ćerku, ali više ne. Šta radiš? Mene bi bilo sramota. Od sad smo samo na Dobar dan i doviđenja."

My response. Just like fat Amy or Eminem, I'll say the truth about me, so you can't say anything against me. My Diss to you:

Kakva sam? Kakva da budem? Od kakve sam familije? Šta bolje i očekivati? Amirite? Razočarala te? A to treba da me povredi? Pih, kog sve nisam. Pa šta? Ko je sve mene razočarao i to ozbiljno, pa ništa. Smatrala me za ćerku? Ha ha ha ha 😂 Bish whaaat?

A to da me je sramota za moj lifestyle, kad ustajem, nemam posao itd. K'o da sam počinila neki zločin. Moja baba mi je jednom rekla: " Ja da sam na tvom mestu, ja bi se ubila!" Gee... Good to go. To say that to a suicidal person. 👏👏 Ona se toga i ne seća.

Uzgred, kad smo kod nesećanja, pre dve noći je popila lek i umesto da legne, dva sata se muvala po sobi, skršila stvari i htela da otvori prozor da izađe😱 Nije prvi put. Kad otvori vrata od dnevne sobe i upita "A gde sam ja? Penjem se na neke stepenice? Gde mi je soba?" 😨😲 Uplaši i mene i tetku. Ona tako popije taj belbien i onda čeka da prođe 10 minuta, jer tako mora? Bish piše ti u upustvu da legneš čim popiješ!!! Ali džabe. I ako ne ode za 10min, onda se prevrće i pada. Veoma neprijatno i strašno. Plaši me. Tetka viče da je probudi, a ona mumla "Šta ti je? Ko spava?" Ona se toga ne seća sutradan. Treba da poštuje uputstvo. Ili da joj zamene lek, jer ovaj pije godinama, piše da izaziva halucinacije (stepenice!?) A i budi se usred noći.

Gerontokratija: definicija: "Ćuti! Sedi! Ja sam u pravu! Ja sam starija, ja sam pametnija! (sorry to disappoint you, I mlađi od mene su pametniji) Nemaš pravo glasa! Ne pitaš se ti! Ko si ti! Umukni! Mrš! E sad ćeš da vidiš! Itd. Samo deo onoga što sam slušala od babe.

Zaključak: ni jedna baba ne valja. Ni LJ.R1 ni LJ.R2 ni R.P.M. Sve su opasne i strašne. Granny the game IRL lmao

Tako da je super što se promenilo vreme, pa se ranije smrkne, taman neće da ih vide. Dobro je što je zima, pa su prozori zatvoreni, da se manje čuju. Kad bi ljudi znali da postoji izum koji se zove čepići za uši ili slušalice. I know! Shocking! 😱😂

Tako da moji mali moraju da čekaju da se smrkne, da bi izašli napolje malo na vazduh.

Da se vratimo na Lj.R.2

Pitam je: "Pa šta hoćete da radim? Da ih zatvorim? Da stalno budu zatvoreni, treba im ⛅ i svež vazduh (ko i one druge pre što su smetali mojoj babi, pa su sad oni indoor cats.) Ili da ih nosim u brdo? Jel' ćete da budete srećni onda? A? Pa odgovori? Jel'? Jel' ćeš da budeš srećna? A ona ćuti i opet nešto mrda glavom.

"Ne znam, ali neću da ih vidim ovde. Neću da se raspravljam o mačkama. Idi sad. Hoću da sednem da gledam seriju. Idi, sve je u redu." A sad je sve u redu?

Kao da nas nešto izbegava ove dve nedelje. Hmm.

Slobodno možeš da budeš kući pre podne a i posle. Moji mali su zatvoreni u terasi. A ja spavam.

Meni je drugačiji bioritam. Okay? Kapiš?

Poštovanje se zaslužuje. To što si stariji ne daje ti za pravo da pretiš i komanduješ.

Da. Imam mačke. U kući. Napolju. Na selu. Da. Svi vole mačke/kučiće. Ljudi i u zgradama imaju kuce, one male bele, što ih nose k'o da su Paris Hilton 😁 Svi po 1-2 najmanje. Svi koje ja pratim. Svi na internetu, ali ne i u tvom komšiluku. Tu ih mrze. I trovali su ih. Ubistvo životinje je kažnjivo zakonom. Ako još jednom pokušate, advokat i sudija će da pričaju umesto mene.

Whatever Trevor

Raspisala sam se, zabole me ruka.

A da. Što se tiče online prodavnice i prodaje čestitki, ništa od toga. Preveliki je stres to za mene. Ne pravim čestitke već nekoliko meseci. Ne mogu da idem po pozivu, tako da nemojte da zovete, broj je nedostupan. A to još uvek nije takav kvalitet, da bi ih prodavala online. Jer glupo da neko da 250din+150din isporuka za jednu čestitku. Ne isplati se.

Laku 🌃

PS a sada ću da podelim neki test o anksioznosti, pa će da vidimo dali je i tebi ovako. Ne bih rekla.

BTW ja patim od depresije i anksioznosti i zato pazi šta mi pričaš.

[shinshun-chanson-show]

＠Prosao Sam Sve　すべてを乗り越えて

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mGcbn4f-ft4

前回紹介したクロアチアのディノ・イエルシックが大人になり、前回の１１年後２２歳で作った歌。内容について詳細はわからないが、旧ユーゴという政治的に不安定な国で紛争の最中に生まれた彼にとって、戦争が身近なものだったことは間違いない。

Dino Jelusic, whom I showed you last time, grew up to be 22 years old, 11 years after junior Eurovision.

I don’t know precisely about the lyric, but his homeland, Croatia was fighting when he was born.

内容も曲も歌唱もすぐれているのだが、彼はクロアチア語でしか歌わないせいか、世界的な認知度は低いのがもったいない。イケメンなのでスターになる可能性は高いのだが。

The lyric, melody, and the way of singing are all splendid, but he sings only in Croatian, so he is not so known in the world.

He is also handsome, so he could be world-famous, I suppose.

歌詞と意味（英訳を元に訳した）

Svaku noc prije sna

pomolim se

za sve one kojih nema

za one koji sa mnom su plakali

bojali se i strepili

 毎晩眠る前に

ぼくは祈る

もうここにいない人々のために

ぼくといっしょに泣いてくれた人々のために

怖がりひるんだ人々のために

怖がりひるんだ

bez oca i sestre, hodam starim stazama

slike ranog djetinjstva gore mi u grudima

a danas nov sam covjek, idem u nove pobjede

sve sto je bilo, ostavljam iza sebe

 父も姉妹もいなくなり　ぼくは古い道を歩く

昔の子供の絵はぼくの胸で燃えている

でもぼくは今生まれ変わった　新しい勝利を求めて

すべてを　ぼくは残してきた

 Prosao sam sve,

sve one tuzne dane

jos mi kroz glavu prolaze

i danas mi suza kane

 すべてを乗り越えてきた

あの哀しみの日々を

まだぼくの頭の中にある

そして今ぼくは涙を流す

al' oprostio sam sve,

mada nista isto nije

glavu dizem i hodam kroz svijet

jaci sam nego ikada prije

でも全ての人をすべてのことを許そう

まったく昔と同じではないけれど

顔をあげて世界に踏み出そう

昔よりもっと強くなったから

[theraggedygirl11]

Kad nemam tebe sa mnom su moji demoni

Part 2

PAIRING: Kris Guštin/Damon Baker

WARNINGS: (kinda implied) drug and alcohol abuse, implied non-con (not between Kris/Damon), sex (not too explicit), hurt/comfort, angst/fluff, swearing

WORDS COUNT: 2.713

LINK: AO3

NOTES: Still thanking @anxious-witch for beta-reading it!

This is the second and last chapter. There's still angst, but things get better, trust the process!

The next day Damon woke up before Kris and decided to make a good breakfast for him. It was easier to talk to him when he had his stomach filled with good food. He brought a tray with the breakfast in the bedroom, then tried to gently wake up his friend.  

Kris opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was Damon’s face with a soft smile. “Good morning, beautiful.”   

The demon stretched and yawned. “You know I hate that nickname.” He mumbled.  

“I know, but it suits you. The other one is princess, so...”  

He laughed a bit. “Princess is cuter.” That smile disappeared immediately after. They were behaving like a couple, but they weren’t one. They couldn’t be one.  

Damon grabbed a huge tray with cookies, pancakes, a hot coffee and a glass of orange juice. A sumptuous breakfast which he didn’t deserve.  

“I-It’s too much, Damon.”  

“It’s all for you, Kris. You need to eat after whatever happened to you yesterday.” He was deadly serious.   

Kris sat up and started eating. He was starving. Well, he didn’t need that kind of food, but it was still a guilty pleasure he had, a memory of his long-lost human life. In the meantime, Damon kept stroking his hair with a gentle touch.  

For some moments their eyes met. Damon’s were filled with concern and kindness. Kris’s were lost, that usual gloom was now leaning towards despair.   

Damon’s hand cupped Kris’s face. “I’d like to talk about something with you.”  

Kris lowered his eyes. “W-What do you want to talk about?” And mentally he was begging whichever deity to not talk about the day before. He didn’t want to revive it.  

“I saw something strange around you yesterday. And on the photos of you I took months ago.”  

“W-What did you see?”  

“You had wings. And I saw them yesterday too, right after that thunderbolt. They are like shadows behind your back. What... what is this? Are you some kind of supernatural creature?”  

Kris went pale and his eyes opened wide. “W-Wings?”  

Damon nodded, then took his laptop and showed him a couple of pictures.   

Kris’s world collapsed under his feet. He made every effort to keep his true nature hidden from humans, but a simple photographer was able to capture them in his amazing photos.  

His sire would be furious. “Delete them.” He said immediately, panic in his voice. “Cancel every picture you have of me. Now.”  

“Kris, what’s wrong? You came here last night high on drugs, you should have been dead and instead you are here, eating breakfast. I’m not crazy, I saw those wings, and even a weird tail. What-”  

“Forget everything you saw.” He snarled. Panic now had completely taken over his mind.  

“No.” His voice was imperative. “I won’t forget nor delete anything. You are one of my dearest friends, and maybe even something more. I want to help you because I lov-”  

“Don’t you dare say those words! You barely know me.” Kris replied with a stirred-up voice.  

“And in these months you became so special to me. I care about you, deeply. I lov-” Damon tried to say again.  

“You can’t love creatures like me!” Kris shouted interrupting Damon, tears in his eyes while standing up from the bed. “What you are feeling is not love, can’t you fucking understand?!” He felt his heart shrink. “I can’t be loved, whatever you are feeling for me...can’t be real.” He shook his head while squeezing his eyes to not let other tears escape from them.  

“It’s you the one who doesn’t understand. Just because you lost yourself and you put up a bad boy attitude, you aren’t impossible to love.” Damon said, standing up and approaching him. His voice was uncomfortably soft. Even tender. “I don’t care who or what you are, Kris. I lov-”  

Kris felt a chain winding tighter and tighter around his neck. His sire was calling him.  

“Stop it.” He hissed, trying to sound aggressive. “Shut up! You don’t understand, you will never understand!” He shouted again. “I made my own hell, I created it and I can’t escape it.”  

Damon observed those teary eyes. He saw once more that sadness, that desolation, that turmoil he noticed while looking at the pictures he took. He saw a caged animal, resigned by its condition, a shy request to be put down because only death could release it from the pain its chains and bars were causing.  

“There’s always a way out, Kris.” He cupped his face and gently stroked his cheeks covered in tears.  

Kris shook his head again. “Not from the situation I put myself into, years ago.” He then turned and ran away from Damon, from his only friend’s house, more tears escaping from his eyes. He didn’t care he was wearing only a t-shirt and some underwear.  

He couldn’t be loved. He was a succubus. He had been a human in the past, then met a demon and sold him his soul because he wanted to be young and beautiful forever. He didn’t realise what he was agreeing to at that time, he was young and the demon charmed him with that promise. He had been created to inspire lust in humans, to bring them to perdition, to damn their souls for his sire.  

He opened his wings to fly away but stumbled and fell on the ground instead. The chain around his neck appeared, tight and heavy as always.  

“Where are you going, darling? We have work to do today.” His sire was right in front of him. Kris lifted his eyes from the ground. “I’m glad how you handled that poor and delusional human. He was just distracting you from your job.”  

“Y-yes, sire.” He swallowed his saliva that burned down his throat like he just ingested poison. He stood up and tried not to show that he was shaking.  

“You are a good boy, my little Kris.” He sneered malignantly and petted his head like he was a dog.  

“P-please... I can’t do it anymore...” Kris begged him. He was crying. “P-please-!”  

“You should have thought a century ago before signing my contract, then.”   

* * *  

In the next few days, Damon tried any possible way to contact Kris, but he never answered. Not even once. It seemed that he disappeared into thin air, like he never existed at all. He even tried to go to the places where they usually hung out together, but he found no trace of him.  

At home he kept looking at Kris’s photos. He wasn’t scared of the existence of supernatural creatures, no. He knew Kris, he wasn’t afraid of him. He...loved him? He certainly felt a special connection with him since he first saw him in that cafe months before.   

Yeah, he was deadly gorgeous, he admitted it multiple times in his mind, but it was those melancholic eyes that really captured and bewitched him. He wanted to dive into them, get lost in their amazing blue-greenish colour.   

His mind showed him that memory when he straddled Kris’s laps to put some golden make-up around his eyes to take some pictures of him. He remembered his smile, his laugh, his feeble attempts to move him, the lightness of that moment between them really made Kris shine. For a moment they both locked their eyes, Damon’s as dark as coal and Kris’s as bright as the ocean around tropical islands. Damon wanted to kiss him so bad, but he forced himself to throw away that thought and to continue what he was doing.  

He missed him. A lot. His heart seemed to have lost a piece since he vanished. He needed to find him again, so he started doing his research about creatures with horns, bat wings and some sort of tail. When he finally found something, he had an idea. And he hoped it worked.  

Some days after Kris found himself sitting on the end of a pier. He was staring at the horizon, the sun was setting and its light stained the water with shades of red, orange and yellow. A very romantic view indeed. Damon would have loved to take some pictures, he thought.  

“Stand up, you have been requested.” His sire appeared right behind him.  

“Someone requested me? Personally?” He asked.  

“Yes, my lovely Kris. And you’ll definitely like him.” He sneered. “Come on, he’s waiting for you.”  

When they arrived at the appointed place of the meeting and Kris saw who his new lover for the night was, he petrified.  

“No, no, no, please, I can’t do it with him...” He started begging his sire. “He-”  

“Yes, it’s your lovely photographer.” The demon looked at Kris, sneering. “He wanted you, he asked specifically for you, Kris. And you’ll give him what he requested.” He grabbed his chain and drew him closer. “You’ll comply without asking further questions, ok?”  

Kris was shaking, but he gave up. “Y-yes, sire.” He replied, closing his eyes and nodding.  

“Good boy. He has a soul so pure and you have the honour to start corrupting it. Now go on and do your fucking job, bitch.”  

When Damon noticed Kris approaching him, he showed a tender smile on his face. “You are here.”  

“Why?” The succubus asked. “Why did you ask for me?”  

Damon cupped his face and looked him in the eyes. “Because it was the only way I had to see you again.”  

“B-but your soul-”  

“I don’t care about it. I won’t go to heaven anyway. And I don’t want to go there if you are not with me.”  

“You don’t know what you are asking for, Damon.”  

He gently stroked Kris’s cheeks. “I don’t care.” He repeated. “You are here, that’s the only thing that matters, now.” He then grabbed one of his hands. “Come home.”   

Kris let Damon escort him to his bedroom. Nothing changed in that place since he last saw it.   

The photographer made Kris sit on his bed, then straddled him and hugged him tightly. “I-I missed you so much...” He whispered with a shaking voice.   

Kris responded and hugged him too. He closed his eyes. He was relieved that he could have a peaceful night, but he felt guilty because that meant only one thing, that he was about to ruin him, his only friend. And he didn’t want to.   

Damon stroked his hair and kissed him on the forehead.   

“Do what you have to do, Kris.” He whispered and looked at him right in his eyes. “I only hope this night will be a good one for you.”  

In that moment their lips touched slightly. Damon wasn’t demanding anything, he was just leaving Kris in control. He moved his hands on Damon’s back while kissing him with more passion.  

They kissed and kissed, slowly undressing each other. The clothes fell on the floor of the room, one after the other. Kris gently pushed Damon and made him lay down on the bed.  

“Show me your true form, Kris.” He whispered, breathless. “Please. I’d like to see you, the real you.”   

This request surprised Kris. But Damon was his master for that night and he couldn’t refuse. He took a deep breath, then let his true form change his appearance: in his hair two black curved horns popped up, on his back two black bat wings opened, a tail with an arrowhead end began moving behind him, his teeth and his nails became sharp and pointed.   

Damon cupped his face and observed his demonic aspect. “You, wonderful, magnificent creature.” He whispered.  

“I’m not magnificent.” He shut his eyes.  

“Yes, you are. In this form and in your human one.” He caressed his cheeks with gestures filled with love and kindness. “My love, look at me, please. I want to get lost in those gorgeous blue eyes of yours.”  

And the demon opened wide his eyes. No one treated him like Damon was doing. He was so used to being mistreated and abused by his lovers that tears invaded his eyes. Damon noticed his reaction and hugged him, making him lay over his body. He gently stroked his hair again.   

“It’s ok, Kris. Everything’s ok. You are safe here.” He whispered with a tender voice.  

How was he worthy of this? He was a demon, he was a damned soul, he didn’t deserve this heaven. And he was about to destroy this human. How could he be this cruel? He raised his head and met Damon’s eyes. He leaned forward and kissed Kris.  

Every new kiss led to caresses and to intertwined souls guided by pleasure. Moans, whines, names gently whispered by breathless voices, bodies sliding against bedsheets and against each other were the only sounds in that room. Both reached their climax at the same time.   

Kris crumbled on top of Damon, his limbs unable to keep him above his lover. He felt strong and exhausted simultaneously.  

He raised his head and met Damon’s eyes, filled with fulfilment and something else he had difficulties to identify.  

“My beautiful, ravishing demon.” He said, smiling. He kissed him again on his lips, tenderly. “My demon, my muse, I love you.”  

Kris’s body stiffened. He heard a scream in his head, a roaring “no!” from his sire. His chains materialised around his neck and his master appeared in the room with the other end of the chains on his hand.  

Damon observed the scene, confused and a little bit scared. He turned to the newcomer. “What-”  

“How dare you?!” The other demon shouted. He was about to tug Kris, but the links broke and turned into dust. “No!” Kris’s contract appeared, levitating between his demon sire and the bed, then immediately burned down.  

Kris felt free. He quickly touched his neck, there was no trace of the chains. But was he truly free?  

His sire was furious. Kris engaged in a defensive stance, ready to protect Damon from the other demon, but he only threw a rageful glance at his former slave and in the end disappeared in a red cloud of smoke.  

“What just happened?” Damon asked, visibly confused.  

Kris turned to the photographer. “I think you freed me from my sire. He made me a succubus, a century ago.” He simply answered, still trying to process these last moments. “I don’t feel his control over me anymore.”  

Damon giggled a bit, then cupped Kris’s face. “Love really is the strongest feeling. It rescued a demon.” Then kissed him on the lips. “My demon.”  

* * *

“Hurry up! We are going to be late for the photoshoot!” Damon shouted from outside the bathroom where Kris was preparing himself.  

He started living with Damon right after his liberation, also because he had nowhere to go, his home was in hell and he didn’t want to go back there, unless it was necessary. He was now a free succubus, no one controlled him. Besides, their love protected his now boyfriend from corruption, his soul was still immaculate.  

“I didn’t know vanity was a characteristic of your kind of demons.” Damon giggled. He was at the door of the room, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed against his chest.  

Kris looked at him through the mirror, smiling. “I’m still a demon and my appearance is my pride.” He replied.  

“Come on, vanity demon, the guys are already waiting for us.”  

“Who are we meeting today? I don’t remember their name.”  

“Oh, it’s a local band. It’s called Joker Out.”   

“What a dumb name.” He giggled.   

“Try and say this in front of them, then we’ll see their reaction. The singer might punch your pretty face.”   

Kris shook his head, then went with Damon to the place they chose for the shooting.

* * *

Hi, my name is Kris. I’m a demon, a succubus to be precise. I was once a human, but over a century ago I sold my soul to a demon lord, my former master. I was a slave for him, but a human freed me thanks to his love. This human is now my boyfriend, we live and work together. His name is Damon.   I have been free for 365 days and today Damon and I celebrate our first year together. I am grateful for my new life.