#croatian sign language

[visionj-journal]

Croatian Sign Language! / Hrvatski Znakovni Jezik!

I drew this a while ago, because the resolution of the original print - only one I was able to find online - wasn’t all that great. I’m not too sure about it’s accuracy (if people would prefer I take it down, I will)

In the print this was written as a one-hand alphabet - however, since then I’ve come across better resources - like Spread the Sign so I’m putting these in my sketch/process tumblr as a sort of look into the past.

I would like to redo or update this at some point.

It is now also available in my Ko-Fi Shop!

.

COMMISSIONS - KO-FI - CARRD - WEBSITE - REDBUBBLE SHOP - TWITTER - INSTAGRAM - YOUTUBE

.

#croatian sign language #hrvatski znakovni jezik #hzj #sign language #digital art #hands #art process #croatian sign #croatian #hrvatski

[jokeroutsubs]

tportal.hr interview

“Joker Out about success, Let 3 and the Eurovision Song Contest: We are big fans of kitsch!”

Interviewed by Matej Ivušić.

We talked to Slovenian rock 'n' roll sensation Joker Out, the young men who, after a successful performance at Eurovision, sold out Tvornica kulture twice in a few hours, where they will perform in mid-November

Joker Out is the newest sensation of Slovenian, regional and European rock 'n' roll, the result of a very successful performance at this year's Eurovision. They got together in 2016 in Ljubljana, and they have two albums. The band members are Nace Jordan, Bojan Cvjetićanin, Kris Guštin, Jure Maček, and Jan Peteh. They stopped in Zagreb on their way to Belgrade to, among other things, satisfy the media's hunger for interviews as well as to get to know Tvornica kulture, a venue they sold out twice in just a few hours and where they will have two concerts in November. The line for the interview was long, so it's no wonder that everything was a bit late. While we were waiting, their PR Gregor Zalokar kept us company, and he revealed in a pleasant conversation that the boys would perform as an opening act for the renowned band Franz Ferdinand at this year's Špancirfest. What we experienced for the first time was that the interview was interrupted at one point for the boys to sign a bill from the mother of one Ivana, and she will surely remember that day. Although mainly Bojan was giving the answers, everyone wanted to be present during the interview, thus making the atmosphere exceptionally relaxed and cheerful. We mostly talked about their meteoric rise, performance at Eurovision, collaboration with the legendary Elvis Costello, and their plans.

How does it feel selling out two Tvornica kulture in such a short period of time?

Before the concert at Šalata with the group Buč Kesidi, we thought we could count on a solo concert of 250-300 people in Croatia. After that concert, we started thinking about selling out one Tvornica by November. The day before the announcement of Tvornica, we were in agony, skeptical - it is a large space, after all. What happened is unreal. It's incredible that we are in Tvornica for the first time today and we managed to sell it out. It reminds us of Kino Šiška in Ljubljana, that's the vibe. It's bizarre that we released a concert for November that sold out after five hours, and we thought - it's a shame that it's not this Friday!

Although you sing in Slovenian, it is not an obstacle in the region. People see you as their own. Have you considered switching to English, or will you stay with Slovenian?

We will, absolutely, work in multiple languages. Most of the songs on the third album will probably be in English, but I can't say for sure. We will most certainly work in English, Slovenian, and Serbo-Croatian. We are even considering some Spanish and French options. We don't want language to be a limitation for us. It even seems that this experimentation with languages will open new doors to us, which we don't expect, and draw creativity in a different direction. If Enrique Iglesias comes, I think they understand him just as much as us in Slovenian, maybe even less, and that has never been a problem. We don't know why Slovenian would be a problem. If you look at Måneskin, they do it – a little bit in Italian, a little bit in English.

‘WE ARE ALL BIG FANS OF PARNI VALJAK! WE EVEN WENT TO THE LAST CONCERT THEY HAD IN SLOVENIA. IT WAS GREAT' 

And what kind of music did you listen to growing up?

Basically, it was rock 'n' roll, different types of rock 'n' roll. Kris mostly listened to The Beatles and Brit-rock music, Nace mainly Fleetwood Mac, some Pink Floyd, and hip-hop. Jure is a big fan of Dire Straits and Parni Valjak.

Parni Valjak?

We are all big fans of Parni Valjak! We even went to the last concert they had in Slovenia. It was great. We also listened a lot to Slovenian music, Slovenian rock music like Siddharta. A great role model is ex-Yu rock and ABBA later on.

I have a related question - how do you view the legacy of the Yugoslav New Wave? Is it the best music from around here?

Bojan: It would be enough for me to listen to the music that has been created on the territory of the former Yugoslavia for the rest of my life. If they shut down all my other media, I wouldn't have any problem with it. As for me, that's the maximum. I'm not talking about the new wave only. I'm literally talking about the end of the sixties; there were great sequences then already. I am a big, big fan of Balkan music.

'WE WERE PART OF THE BIGGEST BAND COMPETITION IN SLOVENIA AND, PURELY AS A JOKE, TO STAND OUT, WE SAID THAT THE GENRE WE PLAY IS 'SHAGADELIC ROCK 'N' ROLL'

Do you guys agree?

We agree!

What would shagadelic rock 'n' roll be? I know it has something to do with Austin Powers, but can you elaborate a bit?

We were part of the biggest band competition in Slovenia and, purely for fun, to stand out, we said that the genre we play is shagadelic rock 'n' roll. Now we see that it applies to the sincere, joyous feeling we have on stage, which translates very well to the audience. When asked why it is, it is because it is honest. People feel friendship, they feel happiness, which is a natural thing for them. It became clear at our concerts, especially now that we are playing outside of Slovenia.

‘WHOEVER SAYS THEY DON'T WANT TO GO TO EUROVISION REALLY WANTS TO GO TO EUROVISION BUT WILL NEVER BE THERE' 

Why did you decide to perform at Eurovision? That competition is usually, at least from the perspective of people who play rock 'n' roll, looked down upon - it's a parade of kitsch...

We are big fans of Eurovision and kitsch! We think it is positive that we are not a rock band, but a rock 'n' roll band, a shagadelic rock 'n' roll band. That means that we are not ready to accept established frameworks. The result we are experiencing now is the result of always saying 'no' to those frames. We certainly play pop-rock and mainstream music, but there is more hidden inside than the surface - that's why it was successful. Eurovision was a wonderful mini-experiment, a chapter in our book that we really wanted to experience once in our lives. We are happy that we got to experience it this year, as if everything is happening at the right moment. Anyone who says they don't want to go to Eurovision wants to go to Eurovision but will never be there.

How was it to you?

Terrible! It was a great experience, not only in Liverpool but also at all the pre-parties in Europe. We were in Barcelona, Madrid, Warsaw, Tel Aviv, Amsterdam, and London. We met all the representatives of other countries. We are even performing with the representatives of Ireland. We had two concerts in Dublin and now have a British tour. Many doors are opening for us. It was stressful, but also a wonderful experience, which we will remember for the rest of our lives.

How did you like the performance of the Croatian representative?

They were great! They hit everything from start to finish. The song speaks for itself, but visually it was one of the strongest performances. As people, they left a good and positive impression on us. We spent a lot of time with them, they were very warm and accepted us very nicely. We are proud of that. It is a band with a long history, after all.

'IF YOU WANT TO FOLLOW THE MUSIC SCENE IN THE BALKANS, YOU MUST FOLLOW TRAP. WE DON'T LISTEN TO THAT, BUT WE HAVE A LOT OF FRIENDS WHO LISTEN TO VOYAGE, FOR EXAMPLE'

Now something completely different, which surprised me. How did the collaboration with the legendary Elvis Costello come about?

You only saw that yesterday?!

Yes!

We were collectively on a safari. A lion attacked a neighbouring truck, attacked Elvis. We jumped off the truck and caught the lion. We held him long enough for Elvis to run back to the truck. After that, he had huge scratches on his legs and arms. To calm him down, we gave him headphones with our album. The song 'Novi Val' calmed him down so much that he wanted to write lyrics in English. When he was in the hospital, we held his hand while he received the antibiotic, and we sang together. It came to the point that it had to be a collaboration.

Did you make this up right now, or is it a story you usually tell?

It's not a story. It happened. It's true.

As young people, do you follow the most popular genre at the moment – trap?

If you want to follow the music scene in the Balkans, you have to follow trap. We don't listen to it, but we have a lot of friends who listen to Voyage, for example. We'll probably start hanging out with these artists soon, performing together, which seems fun. We got introduced to z++ at Šalata. He is the only trap artist who is pop enough to be great to listen to. We were starstruck. We hope that there will be more such opportunities in the future. In the club, that is fine too, but in the general spirit it may be a sign that something is wrong with society, purely because of the message, not because of the music. The theme is usually pure hedonism that is not based on reality. There is a lot of crime, which might be reflected in society. Maybe we need more songs about love, even if it's an unhappy one.

Would a collaboration with Senidah be acceptable to you?

Senidah is, collectively, very dear to us. She was the first Slovenian performer who 'killed it' in the Balkans after a long time, but it was music in the Serbo-Croatian language. It was a sign that it's possible to go out of the area that is not accepted as the Balkans, and still succeed there. We wanted to try what she was doing.

'WE'RE GOING ON A BRITISH TOUR, A SHORT TOUR – MANCHESTER, LIVERPOOL, GLASGOW, LONDON, WHICH WAS, AMAZINGLY, SOLD OUT IN FIVE MINUTES'

What are your future plans?

A lot of plans. We pride ourselves on still being an independent artist. We base all plans on the fact that a team can withstand it. We're going on a UK tour, a short tour – Manchester, Liverpool, Glasgow, London, which was, amazingly, sold out in five minutes. We will play in the Electric Ballroom in London, a legendary venue in Camden where the greatest artists have played, which is beyond reality. We will also have a Nordic tour - we play five concerts in Norway, Sweden, and Finland. We are also planning other European countries, which we will not announce now because we do not have confirmed dates yet. There will be at least one new single along with the start of working on a new album and concerts in Europe.



Pictures source: TPORTAL.HR

Author: MATEJ GRGIĆ

ENG translation by Teo (@yiboego on Twitter)

#joker out #nace jordan #jan peteh #bojan cvjeticanin #jure macek #kris gustin #Youtube

[foxymoxynoona]

Tell Me What Changed: The Epilogue

Banner and lines by the talented @awrkive

Summary: Alex and Jungkook have been best friends since childhood –actual best friends. She is NOT in love with him, for real, and wishes people would stop assuming that. Why does no one question if he’s in love with her? Huh? But it might have to do with his successful fuckboy status, while Alex is very much… not that. Which is fine and doesn’t matter! Until Jimin’s impending wedding leaves her eager for a date and willing to put herself out there, and Jungkook can’t believe what happens next.

Fuckboy Best Friend JK x OC

CW and tags: fuckboy behavior, jealousy, pining, heartbreak, angst, bad language, explicit sex, sexy photos, alcohol, f2l, who knows what else I'm making it up as we go

Read on AO3 here or below cut

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Four years later

“Hm.”

Jungkook nearly ran into Alex’s back as she stopped short in front of an aged metal sign. He pressed his hands on her shoulders and looked over her head at the circle with the line through it over words in a language they didn’t understand.

“That won’t stop me, I can’t read!”

“It’s pretty obviously telling you no,” Jungkook argued. “On what planet does a circle with a slash through it mean yes?”

“It kind of looks like the no parking sign,” Alex countered. “So we won’t park here.”

“Alex–”

“Come on, fuddy duddy, you tired? Besides, that guy didn’t tell us not to,” she said, and set off. 

Jungkook hesitated despite the taunting grin she threw over her shoulder. Yes, they had talked to “a guy” –an old man with a herringbone cap and a brown dog with no leash that made Jungkook long for their baby at home. The man spoke Croatian and Russian only, which unfortunately was not on the very short list of languages Alex and Jungkook spoke. After gesticulating and trying various phrases in French, Italian, and German that they’d picked up in the last six weeks, he’d nodded “ein wenig” about the German and the had traded short German vocabulary words back and forth: Berg, Burg, Brücke. 

How do we reach that ruined castle we see on that hill? That’s what they’d been trying to figure out. 

He’d pointed them up the road, but for all they knew, that meant go to hell and it was just a coincidence they’d seen an opening in the stone wall. He overestimated their German and didn’t seem confident in his own. It didn’t reassure Jungkook one bit.

“There’s a path!” Alex called back to him. “Path means yes!”

Jungkook slowed and studied the “path” she stood so proudly on, a narrow, uneven ordering of flat stones and logs. 

When he didn’t rush forward, she crossed her arms under her tits and challenged, “What’s the problem? You said we could find a way up.”

“Yeah…” He fidgeted, hands in his pockets, and tried to see the crumbling stone towers they’d spotted from the road but it was impossible from this angle through the trees. “It’s just we already got in trouble with the cops once since we got to Croatia–”

“We didn’t get in trouble, they just helped us figure out how to pay the fare.” That was true, they had actually been very nice, but it didn’t change that they’d gotten caught after Jungkook had been so confident no one would care about a couple tourists without stamped tram tickets. Oops. He still felt like an asshole.

“I don’t want to go to a European jail.”

“Yeah, me either!” 

“They won’t send you to jail, you’ll be all cute and innocent looking and they’ll call your mom, but my tats will get me thrown in the slammer and you’ll have to get the President involved to get me out–”

“I really don’t think it’ll be like that,” Alex snickered. Jungkook didn’t honestly either. The truth was just that his stomach couldn’t handle any more anxiety right now, and getting lost outside a Croatian town during an innocent after lunch stroll only to hike a random-ass mountain to see a crumbled old building and possibly break a leg or get arrested for trespassing was just not on his European bingo card. 

She sighed and hopped back down to him. She took his arms and he quickly let go of the things in his pocket so he wouldn’t send them flinging as she shook him.

“Babe.”

“Al.”

“Babe,” she said again. “I promise to do all the talking if we get arrested. I’ll do the blowjobs. I’ll do whatever it–”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he scowled.

“But I really think it’s fine. There’s no chain across the opening. There’s a path. And I really want to.”

“Why?”

“Because we walked so fucking far on my little stubby legs after you got us lost–”

“Oh, I did–”

“And I want it to be worth it by discovering a cool secret castle.”

“You don’t even know if that’s a castle,” he pointed out.

“The guy said so.”

“Berg and Burg don’t sound different enough for you to know for sure! He might just have been saying ‘you dumb fucks, it’s just a mountain, go to hell.’”

She sighed and pulled him into a hug. He towered over her but she dragged his head down to her shoulder even though it deeply hunched him, and stroked his back.

“Sh sh sh.”

“I’m just tired of castles,” he admitted. “We’ve seen castles in Spain and France and Germany and Italy and Austria and Sweden and Poland–”

“We didn’t see castles in Poland.”

“Oh, was it churches then? Cemeteries?”

He sighed and sank down on a fallen log and spread his legs out. They hurt, and if his legs hurt, he didn’t know how Alex was still standing. Except that now as they neared the end of their eighth week backpacking around Europe, he had learned this was how she was when things went wrong. When their train had broken down in the middle of the night in a small German town in the middle of nowhere, when the hostel they’d booked in Sweden turned out to be an empty warehouse and they had to drag their things through the pouring rain to find a new place and that was right after the boat from Denmark made them so seasick, when the trains went on strike in Paris and they got stranded for an extra two days than they’d planned, when–

Listing them out, none seemed as disastrous as they had felt at the time. It turned out backpacking was fucking hard. Changing countries every three to seven days for weeks on end was fucking exhausting. And as eager as they had been to see as many different places in Europe as they could cram into this ‘trip of a lifetime,’ the castles and ruins and churches and train stations and town squares were all starting to look the same. In Prague they’d gone to visit a Jewish Temple and he’d wanted to weep because at least it wasn’t another fucking church! 

OK, that wasn’t fair. He was actually having a really great time overall. He wasn’t some big history buff or anything but it was really cool to see so many of the things he’d been forced to learn about in school with his own eyes. The Mona Lisa was way smaller and the Roman Forum was way bigger. German beer was much better and Prague clubs were so much wilder and Alex loved him so much she’d stayed out all night with him. Europe was so much older than the tourist shit they had in the States. Mostly he cared about the food, and that had been cool, even the bad meals, just to say he had. That was why they’d come to Samobor in the first place, because it was an easy day trip from Zagreb and they’d been bored and googling what to do before their epicly long train tomorrow to Greece –their final destination where they’d meet up with friends before flying home. 

“Let it out,” Alex said, taking a seat beside him. “Oh god my legs are going to fall off my fucking body. I may not be able to get back up, I’m serious. Hope you’re ready to piggy back me, beefy buns.”

“I’m tired,” he admitted.

“Me too.”

“I miss my bed.”

“It’s our bed.”

“I miss my mom’s cooking.”

“Mm-hm.”

“And you know what I miss the most?”

“What?” Her eyes narrowed, clearly suspicious, but his answer was innocent and sincere.

“Bam.”

“I know, but he’s having the time of his life with Yoongi and Joon,” Alex pointed out. “He’s their trial baby. They’re spoiling him. He may be pissed when we come home.”

“Don’t say that,” Jungkook glared. “He knows whose baby he is.”

“Yeah, mine.”

“Mine!”

“He takes your side of the bed when you get out in the morning.”

“Yeah to be close to my scent when I have to leave for work,” Jungkook insisted.

“No, because he’s my husband.”

“Our dog is not your husband.”

“It’s ok, l’enfant, you’re still precious to me too.”

“What was that? How did you say that?” he teased. It had been hilarious to learn Alex sucked harder at French than anyone had ever sucked. She couldn’t make anything even close to the right noises. It made so much sense why she had completely flunked it in high school; she’d had to change to Spanish, and she’d sucked at that too but slightly less. Jungkook, on the other hand, had been told several times by French people he spoke his freshly learned sentences like a native. And ok, fine, Alex was correct it was women who had told him that, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t true!

Alex was pouting now at his teasing because it had also been revealed that she really wanted to sound sexy speaking French (alcohol, alcohol had revealed that) and her attempts at a few new phrases in the bedroom that night had not gotten the response she wanted. He’d tried to keep a straight face! Because she looked sexy and cute as hell in the light blue thing she’d picked up earlier in the day at his begging, way too sexy for the low-budget hotel room with its peeling wallpaper and chipped wood furniture, but god her French was awful.

“What are you smiling about? You’re thinking about Belgium, aren’t you?”

“Huh? No! I was thinking about Paris!” In Belgium, her drunk French after they’d spent a late evening in the clubs had made someone think they’d been doing drugs and alerted a nearby police officer.

“Oh, when you laughed at me in the bedroom.”

“I didn’t laugh at you, I laughed at your French. Just give up. You don’t need to speak French just because French girls liked me,” he assured her with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Don’t gloat just because they thought you’d be a pretty plaything–”

“I am a pretty plaything!”

“So pretty,” she readily agreed, and reached up to squeeze his cheeks together. “Look at that pretty face.”

“Don’t you… want to play with me…?” he tried to prod her into making a raunchy joke. 

“You already got your ‘I fucked in Croatia’ stamp, isn’t that enough?”

He couldn’t help the chuckle. Alex had given him the “Assport” the first night they’d landed in Spain alongside a little stamp that said ‘I did it!’ to stamp each page as earned. “So you can say you fucked your way through Europe,” she’d giggled. “Even if you only get to ride the Alex-rail.” “Rail the Alex?” “Yes, your train can only enter one tunnel.” “You have more than one tunnel. Do I get a stamp per tunnel in each country?” “...No.” “A stamp when I enter and a stamp when I leave?” “Fine, whatever.” 

It was hysterical. He loved that in the middle of stressing her hair gray  in preparation for their nine weeks away, Alex had taken the time to make something so fucking stupid for him. So, to prove he was a good boyfriend who appreciated her, he’d made sure to fill her in. It. Fill it in. Well, both. Even when it meant shoving his barely hard dick into her pussy the single night they had in Belgium after he’d eaten something on their gastro tour that disagreed with him. She’d suggested a skip but he refused to let Belgium win! Now he’d always remember Brussels as the place with the pissing little boy status and also the place where he’d failed to orgasm. But she’d taken pity on him and let him finish her off with the vibrator and agreed when he insisted they’d fucked: his dick was in her body (however briefly) and she orgasmed. Stamp it.

“Ah, I love you,” he sighed and flung his arm around her shoulder to hold her in place for his sloppy kiss on her temple. She, predictably, squirmed away. Belatedly he added, “But just because I already earned my stamp doesn’t mean I can’t go again. What’s the point of illegally hiking a mountain to look at rocks if you don’t get a handy out of it?”

“Is that why your hand is glued to your pocket?” she teased. “You rock hard in there thinking about the cool rocks we’re going to see?”

He quickly pulled his hand from his pocket. “No.”

“Look if you really don’t want to go, you can stay here.”

“Why are you so determined?”

She pushed up from the seat with a groan and teetered the first few steps. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I guess because we’re here, we can see there’s a castle up there, we might as well see it. I mean when are we ever going to be in Samobor, Croatia again? Probably never, right? We’ll literally never be in this place again and I don’t want to live the rest of my life wondering what the castle on the mountain looked like.”

“Or the inside of a Croatian jail cell.”

“Exactly, you get it! I’m doing it for the ‘grams.” She gave him a wink and two peace signs, as if he was taking a photo. “Or at least the stories. This is the kind of trip we’ll talk about for the rest of our lives! I don’t want to say I got all the way here and wimped out!”

That would definitely not be the story. Since landing in Europe, Alex had been more outgoing and adventurous and motivated than he’d ever seen her. At home she’d whine about standing in line at the grocery store for too long, she’d demand a piggy-back ride from the couch to the bed, when their friends would suggest some weekend trip to do something, she’d give Jungkook that look like we would rather stay at home, right? Let’s just stay home. She was a creature of habit, he’d always known that about her, he was like that too.

The addition of Bam to their family lent itself to more adventures as they started taking him on hikes. Alex walked their baby as much or more than Jungkook did –though in his defense, it was because he was working two jobs these days so Alex was around more! He’d love to be walking Bam more. God, he wished he could walk Bam right now. What did it say about him that Alex was ready to hike a mountain just to maybe see something cool –she’d been ready to brave any crowd, any line, any obstacles to see the things you were supposed to see anywhere they visited– and life-of-the-party Jungkook wanted to just go home and walk his dog. 

That made him sound like he wasn’t enjoying his time in Europe. He didn’t want to sound like that. He was! It just wasn’t exactly like he’d expected and right this moment he was tired and kind of cranky. He got like that sometimes, whatever! He hadn’t slept well last night; the walls at the hostel were too thin, the mattress was flat, and the sheets were heavily perfumed. He’d lain awake next to her in bed, comforted at least by her deep post-sex snores that she refused to believe, and worried because he was running out of time.  

He watched Alex’s back as she hiked boldly up the path and once again shoved his hand in his pockets to fidget with the box that had been nestled there for eleven countries now. Eleven countries without exactly the right moment. What did that say about him that they were on a fucking once-in-a-lifetime backpacking trip around Europe together and there hadn’t been the perfect moment? There had been so many good moments, even great moments, but not that moment. He knew he’d feel it when it was time. He hadn’t felt it yet. He was running out of time. 

He ran after her before she disappeared from view; obviously he wasn’t going to let Alex wander off into the wilderness without him. They didn’t have a scrap of navigation skill between them but at least they’d die together. He was her ride or die. That included ill-advised treks up mountains in foreign countries, apparently. 

“I can smell that you’re right behind me.”

“Can’t you hear me?” he pointed out.

“Yeah but I wanted to comment on the fact that we’ve been away from home for two months now and you still smell like you just got home from work.”

He grinned and strode around her to lead, “You do too.”

“No I don’t!”

“Hey, it’s fine. I got used to you smelling like stale espresso years ago. The fact I even know what stale espresso smells like is all because of you, babe. You’ve really changed my life.”

“For the better,” she nodded.

“Hm. You think so? You think that’s what I meant?” 

She laughed and tried to hit his ass but his backpack shielded him. 

“Whatever, at least I don’t sparkle like Edward Cullen.”

“But I smell better than he does, I know it,” he argued. “Besides, you like the perks.”

“Of you playing with bubbles all day?”

“Of the bath bombs I bring home for you!”

“Yeah until I took so many baths I got that fucking UTI,” she laughed. Apparently that could happen. Fucking around so much when he was younger had left him overconfident that he knew everything about a woman’s body; living with Alex the past couple of years –both as roommate and partner this time– had taught him so much more. 

“I do appreciate the bath bombs though,” she clarified, misunderstanding his silence. “I guess I’ll miss you coming home smelling so good all the time. You always smell like mall after Verizon shifts.” She paused to debate where the path split, but Jungkook noticed it just went around some trees and converged ahead, so they each took one. 

“Maybe I’ll keep working at Lush.”

Her answer was quick, “No. Now that you don’t have to save for the Europe trip anymore, isn’t one job enough to live on? You work so much and if Verizon can’t give you the promotion you obviously deserve then maybe you should quit both places and go to T-mobile or whatever.”

It was sweet. It was sweet that she wanted his time more than his money. It was sweet that no matter what else she teased about, she was always ready to champion his career, to rage about him being underappreciated at his jobs, even when it wasn’t true. It was sweet she thought he’d needed a second job just to pay for the Europe trip. She knew how much money he made. She knew how they split their finances. She knew what this trip cost them each. Did she really not wonder where that extra money was going?! But he believed she genuinely didn’t, or at least didn’t care enough to wonder about the math.

“Look, a handrail,” she pointed out. “They wouldn’t put a handrail there if we weren’t allowed. Doesn’t this whole place have kind of a fairy tale feel to you?”

“If we meet a gnome, my tactic is going to be to convince it you’re related so it’ll leave us alone.”

“God you’re such an asshole,” she laughed and gave him a hard shove that barely budged him. 

“It’s nothing personal! It’s survival!”

“Well if it’s a troll, you’ll be right at home.”

“Because I’m… big and strong?”

“Dumb and ugly.”

“See, but that’s not even a little bit believable,” he argued. “No one would think I’m ugly but you’re objectively short.”

“And ugly?”

“No no, that’s not what I said! You’d be so hot to a gnome. I bet he’d fall in love with you. He’ll lock you in these ruins. All the gnomes would beg to orgy you.”

“Oooh sounds kind of like Beauty and the Beast… I could go for that! I have no problem seeing past someone’s cursed, terrible, glittery, greasy, off-putting exterior–”

“Come on, you know the oil makes my muscles pop better in the photos. I get way more engagement on those posts–”

“Mmm, love my slimy boyfriend as long as he’s doing numbers. And the laundry.”

She could tease him all she wanted though because her support had been unwavering. He’d decided not to pursue a full time influencer career after all, but it wasn’t for any lack of encouragement from her. After years of building up his account and relationships with brands, he’d tried to commit to it full time for six months and wound up making almost enough to live off of, but the pressure it had placed on the way he looked and maintaining a certain online persona had driven him into the ground. Hard. Alex had scraped his self esteem back together and held him close to her chest as he eased off and found a healthier balance that didn’t hinge his self worth on how many abs you could see in any given photo. She also bought him a puppy.

Now the contents of his account were more diverse: showing off his cute dog, their hiking adventures, their lazy afternoons cooking and gaming, and sometimes funny things with Alex mixed in with fitness photos when he felt like it. He liked being hot on the internet, he just couldn’t handle it being the entirety of his life. He ended most of the partnerships though occasionally did a sponsored post if it felt natural and good. It had been a dark time for him but a deep bonding time with her. It had made him realize it was time to lock this shit down in a legal way even though she hadn’t ever once asked him about it.

That was over a year ago. He’d been the one to say they should finally make their Europe trip happen as a joint 30th-birthday celebration. He’d taken on the second job to save up the money he needed. And now… now he was waiting for the perfect moment to…

“I think we’re almost there,” Alex announced, veering ahead. 

Maybe he was stupid. Maybe that was the problem, he was trying to make something happen that shouldn’t. The same doubts that had bubbled up for the last year did so now, in the quiet of this forest. Alex had never said she wanted to marry him. They didn’t talk about it at all! When people brought up marriage, she made a joke about taking twelve years to even start dating so why the rush. Once she joked about counting down to the day they met Common Law criteria and would earn some legal property rights through that “for free.” If it came up topically, maybe in a movie they watched, Alex would insist she really couldn’t imagine being a bride and also that the wedding industry was a sham.

So it was entirely possible, he considered not for the first time, that Alex didn’t want to get married and was going to turn him down if he didn’t make a compelling case for why she should bother. By now she knew what she was getting with him, so he needed something big to help her understand why this would be good for them. For legal reasons, sure, tax breaks, but also because he just… 

“There!”

He realized she had gotten out of sight. Shit. He ran the last leg of the path and joined her in the grassy space preceding what was, indeed, a small ruined stone castle.

“We did it!” she grinned, and threw her arms around him, backpack and all.

“That’s… it?”

“Yeah, but we saw a random castle on a hill in Croatia and hiked our asses up it and there it is,” she beamed. “I wonder what it is though…” She released him and went closer but –to his relief– stopped on this side of the chain draped across the only path into the ruins themselves. Not that there was much space to go. 

Jungkook pulled out his phone; his service was definitely better here but still spotty, so it was slow to return search results. In the meantime, he followed Alex along the part of the perimeter they could reach. They could easily see all the way to the other side though.

“Maybe it was like a fort or something,” Alex suggested. “Or a storage house. Weapons or grain or something.”

Jungkook’s phone loaded a page and he quickly shared, “So, there is a Samobor Castle, but this is definitely not it.”

“What?!”

“Look, it’s on the other side of the town.”

“How do you know that? You don’t know directions.”

“Yeah, look, that’s where we got cake, and it’s that way, but we went this way… I don’t know what this is. Google doesn’t know either. This is… nothing.”

Alex looked between him and the ruins. 

“Well it’s not nothing,” she defended. “Basically we just discovered lost ruins–”

“They aren’t lost, we’re lost,” he laughed. 

“Ok, so? I still think it’s cool! Who cares if it’s not the castle, right? We got to this place all on our own without even good directions.”

“Alex,” he called as she monologued her way to the other side of the castle. 

“We saw a place we wanted to be and we went there! That is the spirit of adventure! We–”

“Alex, watch–”

“We seized the– AGH!!”

His warning came too late and he wasn’t fast enough to grab her as she slipped on the rotting leaves and went tumbling down the hill. All he managed to do was overbalance and go rolling with her. It happened so fast, both of them flailing and thumping as they tried to grab each other and brace themselves. 

It must only have been a few seconds but felt like ages before Jungkook managed to dig his boots in enough to get traction and stop rolling, around the same time Alex grabbed a tree.

“Oh fuck,” he gasped, crawling towards her as soon as she stopped. “Are you ok? You’re ok, right?”

“I think I’m ok. Are you ok?!” They grabbed each other and inspected arms and legs and faces and heads. Her hair was shoved full of leaves and he pressed all over her skull, feeling for any gashes or bruises.

“You didn’t hit your head, did you? Why are you so breathless?”

“Because I just rolled down a fucking mountain in Croatia!!”

“Did you hit your head? Fuck, we should– we should go to a hospital and–”

“I didn’t hit my head, did you hit your head?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he insisted and felt like it was true. He patted his body one more time anyway. Face, head, shoulders, chest, backpack contents probably crushed now but nothing that could be too badly damaged, pants–

“Shit,” he hissed, realizing his pockets were empty. “Fuck, no!”

“What?!”

“My, um, my phone fell out…”

“Oh shit! Ok, well it has to be here…” He admired her determination as they both looked up the full length of where they’d rolled. They’d disturbed the leaves and low plants and the contents of his pockets could be literally anywhere. They’d never find it. Fuck. FUCK.

But Alex crawled forward on hands and knees and instantly cheered, “Keys! Hotel key, right here. Also put that in your backpack, not your pocket, idiot!”

“Yeah sorry, I wasn’t intending to go rolling down a hill because my girlfriend can’t watch where she’s going.”

“It was a hidden slope!”

“You have to look! We aren’t even supposed to be up here!”

“They could have put a sign or something,” she suggested, clearly predicting his rebuttal, “You would have ignored it anyway!” He couldn’t join her laughter though. His pockets were empty. This was bad.

He crawled slowly back up the hill, trying to look everywhere and not bury his things worse in the search. Finding the key gave him hope but it was also probably the last thing to fall out. His hands trembled with fear that he had just lost several very expensive things. One of which was going to ruin everything now. He couldn’t find the perfect time in Greece if he didn’t have the fucking ring!

“Found it!” Alex cried further to the side and held up his phone in trump.

“Ok great, uh– I lost some other things so just– why don’t you sit over there and catch your breath–”

“What other things? You really want to hunt for a lip balm right now? I’ll just buy you another one.”

“It was a really good lip balm,” he mumbled, not even paying attention to what he was saying. The box was going to be even harder to find, the black would blend in with the mud and dark leaves whereas his white phone case stuck out.

“Koo, forget the lip balm–”

“It’s not about the lip balm. Just sit, make sure you’re really ok before we have to hike down again.”

“Well tell me what else you’re looking for and I’ll help.”

“Just lip balm.”

“Huh?”

He realized what he had said didn’t make sense and stopped to clarify –only to realize she was not saying huh about the lip balm. She was saying huh about the small box she had just lifted from the leaves. 

“It’s just a box,” he blurted out. Then, “It’s not mine.” But he could see on her face she suspected exactly what kind of box this was and that it was in fact, obviously, his. 

He lunged for her, “Give it–”

She twisted away from him and popped the lid.

Defeated and incapable of facing her now, he reared back and turned away, fists clenched against his forehead. 

But he had to see her face; he turned back to her. Every other possible denial or explanation or even a smooth, elegant speech that could save the day, all caught in his throat.

“I just want to,” he blurted out, pre-emptively answering the question he knew she would ask. Why? Why now? Why change things? Aren’t you happy the way we are?

“Want to what?” she asked slowly.

“Um, you know.” He gestured at the ring. “That.” She held the ring up, as if mocking how they were both being so suddenly awkward about such a little thing. But it wasn’t that little, it was actually a really big ruby! He’d looked into lab grown for ethical reasons but discovered they were significantly cheaper, so he’d gone big. Not tasteless big! But it was a rock on her hand, and with the smaller ones lining the band, that fucker sparkled. He knew she wouldn’t like something too crazy complicated because she tended to only wear simple jewelry, and yes, maybe he should have let her pick it out or talked to her first, maybe she would have liked a diamond more, he’d debated it forever–

“Jungkook.”

“I just think we should get married, ok?”

“This is what you’ve been fidgeting with in your –this is what you’ve been stressing about?”

“I’m not stressing! You’re stressing! What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know, the whole trip, you keep having these moments where you just get kind of quiet and weird and then you’re crabby after for no obvious reason. I thought you were just homesick or stressed about traveling but you just felt… off….”

He swiped the box from her hand mid-monologue and quickly shut it. She didn’t wrestle it back but did stand. Their feet slid on the leaves, and he grabbed her arm and dragged her the short remaining distance back to solid land. She promptly sat down right there on the grass and, what the hell, he sat beside her. He didn’t think she seemed happy. Also she had scraped her knee.

“We don’t have to do it,” he assured her. “We can just get another dog.”

“I didn’t even suspect it was this. You never keep secrets from me. Not successfully anyway–”

“Yeah well. I wanted to um. Surprise you.”

“Oh I’m surprised.”

“Are you really though?” he demanded. “Is it really that surprising to you that I want to marry you? I’m not some twenty-three-year-old idiot anymore.” The moment felt too raw and he quickly added, “In one month I’ll be a thirty-year-old idiot, thank you.”

“You’ve been carrying that around this whole time? You’ve had it in your pocket the whole time we’ve been in Europe? Or did you buy it here– no, when would you have bought it?”

He glowered down at the box and crossed his legs, “I brought it with us… I just wanted to wait for the perfect moment.” His insides felt like they’d liquified at this point. She knew he had the ring. She hadn’t reacted some big excited happy way about it. She hadn’t rejected him yet but he felt like they were on the brink of it; that was an old shadow but he could still summon it when he felt vulnerable with her. He didn’t want to have to beg, that would be too sad even for him.

“And none of the moments were good enough for you?” she snorted, sliding her backpack off and dragging it around to her lap.

“No! I don’t know. I thought I’d ask you in some big cool place while we traveled and then every time it just felt like the moment was more about the cool thing we were seeing. The focus wouldn’t be on the right thing. But then the moments in between have all been so normal or exhausting or busy or just not some big– maybe you wouldn’t think it was worth saying yes.”

“You think I don’t want to get married?”

“I know you don’t really care about it! We’ve never really talked about it–”

“Exactly. You never asked.”

“Well I was going to ask–”

“NO!” she shouted. “No, shut up. Me first.”

“What?”

She shoved her backpack to the side and rolled onto her knee and lifted a box –her own box. Her own fucking box. 

“Jungkook will you–”’

“What! No!” he shouted and scrambled to mirror her position. 

“NO?!”

“Alex, will you marry–”

“Will you marry me Jungkook?”

“Alex.”

“I asked you first.”

“Bullshit you were holding my… are you kidding me right now?” he cackled and fell forward as it fully struck him: Alex had a fucking engagement ring in a white box. On her person. To propose to him. In falling forward he knocked her sideways and they sprawled on the grass, a tangle of laughter. “You have a ring? For me?!”

“Well you were never going to ask me!”

“Fuck that, yes I was!”

“I didn’t know that!” she cried. 

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m always the one who asks!” 

“Fuck off, that’s not true!” She tried to elbow him but he just twisted her arm away and glared down at her as she insisted, “It was my idea to move back in together. And my idea to get Bam.”

“But it was my idea we should date in the first place.”

“No, I had that idea way earlier.”

“Ok but I’m the one who did something about it.”

“Technically I did something first–”

“What, got a shitty boyfriend who wasn’t me?”

“Yeah. Although I guess you were already doing a lot of somethings–”

“Hey now! Well I said I love you first, so–” 

“Ok, well I was doing something about this first!” she defended.

He kissed her. But he started laughing and had to roll to the side so he wouldn’t crush her because the laughter was bubbling out so hard it hurt. 

“Did you really– let me see it,” he demanded, taking the box from her hand and tossing his onto her chest.

“Hey, ouch!”

He sat up and wiped at his eyes and opened the white box. The ring tucked inside was dark gray and silver, textured so that it looked like rock.

“It’s hammered meteorite,” she quickly explained. “I figured you can pick out your own wedding ring that you want to wear forever but this looked cool, kind of like the other rings you’ve worn except nicer.”

“Seriously, this is heavy! Wasn’t it expensive?”

“Jesus, not compared this fucking rock you bought. I only got a glimpse and it blinded me–”

“Well open it and look at it again,” he said. But his own gaze didn’t leave his ring yet, the one she’d picked out. To propose to him. “Why didn’t you propose yet, huh?”

“I thought I’d do it in Greece, on the beach or something. But I kept it with me in case a good moment came up. I didn’t realize it was a race but I’m really happy I won.”

“You didn’t win,” he scowled.

“I asked you first.”

“Only because you saw my ring for you!”

“But you didn’t ask me, for all I know it could be any kind of ring in there…” Her speech trailed off as he reached over to pop the box open again. “God, that ring is way prettier than anything I’ve ever worn. I love that it’s a ruby.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it just feels so… I don’t know. Special.” 

He beamed. That was exactly what he had wanted. He wanted her to feel special. She wan’t just any other woman, she couldn’t have just any engagement ring. 

“Get ready for my mom to tell you how important red is in Chinese culture as if you don’t already know.”

“I know, I thought of that too when I was trying to decide between a sapphire and a ruby.”

“I like the ruby. It’s sexy.”

“It’s lab grown. It’s not like a blood ruby or anything.”

“Yeah, Verizon doesn’t pay you enough for blood– oh my god, is this why you got the second job?!”

“Not all of us lived with our parents and built up savings for a year.” He pulled the meteorite ring out of its box and slid it down on his left ring finger. He wore rings sometimes but never on this finger. It felt bulky and awkward to have a ring there.

She didn’t even notice, still staring at the ruby ring. “I know but… but you could have asked me with something so much cheaper than this. You could have asked me with nothing! Or a Ring Pop or something!”

“I wanted to give you a reason to say yes.”

“You’re the reason to say yes.” She let out a noisy sigh and shook her head. “So pretty but so dumb.”

He clicked his tongue, “Sure, and I’m a good reason, but you’ve said things against getting married and I thought you’d need some convincing–”

“What things? I’m not against getting married! I don’t want a big fussy wedding but… but I want to marry you, Jungkook. Didn’t I say that in ninth grade?”

There it was. There’s what he wanted to hear. His heart gave a final twist in his chest and settled back into a steady beat, warm and comfortable. His stomach stopped tying itself in knots. 

“I want to marry you too.”

“Then let’s get married!” She slid her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into the searing kiss he hadn’t been able to focus on a moment ago. But now he was kissing his fiance, the woman he was going to marry, the woman he already knew he was going to spend his life with but now everyone else would see it too. He pushed her back into the grass, wanting as much physical contact as possible for this first kiss of their engagement. A moment without photos for once in his life; a moment just for them that would live only in their memories. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled with her. 

She squealed beneath him and kicked her little feet, “Ok ok, put the rings on already!”

“I’m already wearing mine, you’re the slow-poke.”

“You already put it on? Let me see. How does it feel?”

“Weird. Heavy.”

“I guess you don’t have to wear it… I know men don’t usually wear engagement rings but–”

“It’s pretty fucking rad. I’m going to wear it.”

His compliment was sincere and she glowed. He understood that feeling. He felt the same warmth as he tugged the ruby ring from the box and slid it onto her stubby little finger. He loved those stubby little fingers. He loved the hands that held his back, and arms that wrapped around him again, and the woman who breathed romantically into his ear, 

“You put your ring on first so I double won.”

“ALEX!”

“Oh my god, do I have to take your name? Alex Jeon? I think you should take mine. Jungkook Song.”

“Just shut up and kiss me.” He pulled her close and kissed her again, running his thumb across the ruby and diamonds now perched on her hand. Kissed her in front of the ruined castle that was probably not even a castle and just some random old knocked down grain storage Kissed her and tried not to cry with relief because he did not want him crying to be part of their engagement story but it looked like he didn’t have any more say in that than he did the moment she’d found the ring.. 

He tucked her beneath his chin and held her close as she gawked again at her ring. “I can’t believe this. It’s gorgeous. I can’t believe I have a ring like this… you didn’t have to go this big…”

“I don’t care. I have no regrets.” 

“It’s so heavy. It feels so weird to have on… is this going to get us mugged?! Maybe I shouldn’t wear it… but I don’t want to take it off.”

“I think we’ll be ok but I got crazy insurance on it too so if something happens just hand over the ring, ok?”

“Aw, babe, that’s so sweet!”

“I wasn’t being sweet, I just know you’re definitely going to lose it or something. You’re going to call me crying from work because you dropped it in the bean grinder–”

“No I won’t! I’ll never let anything happen to it.”

“Ok well… I’m glad you like it…” He was flustered now and glad she couldn’t see his face. He had worried it would be too flashy for her until the last minute. “And we don’t have to do a big fussy wedding,” he added. “We can just do a courthouse thing or we can elope, whatever you want.”

“We’ll figure it out when we get home,” she agreed. Her kiss on his neck gave him a full shiver. “But um… for our honeymoon…”

He chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows even though she couldn’t see. He was going to really fill up that Assport.

“Yeah?”

“I never want to go backpacking again,” she rushed out. “Don’t get me wrong, this trip with you is awesome and I’m really glad we’re doing this but I’m–”

“I’m so fucking tired!” he shouted his agreement. “I just want to be in one place for a while!”

“Yeah! I’m so tired of looking at tourist sites… I don’t even care anymore! We’re going to see the Parthenon in Greece and be like yep, looks just like the pictures… there it is…”

He laughed and shook her side to side, “Yes yes yes. God I’m so relieved you said that. You’re so adventurous on this trip, I thought you’d found a new thing you love and I was going to have to get used to wearing the same five outfits for weeks at a time–”

“And you still wanted to propose?”

“Yeah! I’m really great, aren’t I?”

She laughed and burrowed against his chest, “Yeah, all right, you’re pretty good. But let’s never do this again. Let’s go to Greece and see the Parthenon and then lay on beaches and that’s it.”

“Yeah, like maybe for our honeymoon we just go to one place and stay there for two weeks. A beach or something.”

“Yeah.”

“Just nap in hammocks and I can watch you toddle around in hot bikinis–”

“I don’t toddle.”

“You do after a few pina coladas. Glad you didn’t push back on the bikini. It’s going to be great. I can already close my eyes and see your tit popping out.”

“It’ll be great,” she at least agreed. “Whatever we do. And this trip has been great! I’m really glad we did this. I’m glad we’ll have these memories of the time we backpacked through thirteen countries–”

“We aren’t spending the night in Belgrade though, we’re just connecting trains, right? So I don’t think that counts.”

“It’s seven hours from Zagreb to Belgrade and then sixteen hours to Thessaloniki–”

“God why did we say we were doing trains everywhere instead of flying?” 

“Because we’re stupid,” she laughed. “But we’ve got a private room on the overnight!”

“Oh.” He grinned. “Oh I see. I fuck you on the overnight train, I get the stamp for Serbia– but hey, we pass through like four countries, not just Serbia–”

“I don’t know, that’s a lot of fucking–”

“I think our engagement has refreshed me,” he taunted. “Boyfriend dick was tired but fiance dick is ready to rail–”

Instead of responding to his humor she just gasped, “Oh my god, we’re engaged. We’re meeting everyone in Greece engaged.”

“Yeah? You feel some kind of way about that?”

“Yeah I’m stunned,” she admitted. “I’m so happy, I can’t believe this.” Jungkook felt like his chest would burst open at that point. She said yes! The train rides to get to their last stop would be long, but then they’d have a whole week on Greek beaches with their friends before flying home as a group. And then it was going to be so good to be home. Home with his pup and his fiance.

“I think I have some cake in my backpack! It’s probably squished but we should eat it to celebrate. Should we call home and tell everyone we’re engaged, or just surprise them in Greece? God, I can’t wait to be on the beach as a sexy engaged lady.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You know, bikini, big rock, stud fiance.”

“So you finally admit I’m a stud.”

“I’ll admit whatever you want once you’re Jungkook Song.”

“I am not–” She kissed him and he quit arguing. For now. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered, not the exhaustion or the homesickness or the long train ride ahead. She’d said yes. She’d been wanting it too. In a couple weeks they’d turn thirty and enter a new decade of their lives together, and after that at some point take on the titles of husband and wife as well. Would it feel very different? The thought of calling Alex his wife was good. Really good. He couldn’t wait to call her his wife even if he couldn’t have explained why it mattered so much. It just did. 

“Let’s at least call Bam and tell him,” Jungkook insisted.

“Ok, baby. But you know, Namjoon or Yoongi will have to answer the call for him because he can’t work the phone with his big clumsy paws, so they’ll know. And Namjoon isn’t great at keeping secrets…”

“It doesn’t have to be a secret. That’s the point of the big ruby, right?”

“Hello?” 

They gasped and turned at the voice from behind them. A man in slacks stood by the path with a walkie-talkie. It looked like a uniform, though not police. Still Jungkook leapt to his feet. The man asked the question they were familiar with now in pretty much any language What language do you speak?

“English.”

“Oh. You cannot be here,” the man told them. 

“Ha! I was right,” Jungkook crowed at Alex.

“The path was open,” Alex insisted. “We thought it was ok.”

The man just pointed back, “It is dangerous. You go now. Bye.”

Jungkook grabbed her hand and dragged her along before she could argue further. The man didn’t seem angry or like they were in major trouble or anything, just like they ought to leave. Stupid tourists, he was probably thinking.

Jungkook clutched Alex’s hand in his, distracted by the weight of his engagement ring. He liked that it felt weird right now. It meant something felt physically different, not just emotionally, and he thought it was stupid men didn’t wear engagement rings more often. Why did girls get all the fun? He hadn’t even known he wanted a ring but Alex had surprised him.

“So you want to go to the real Samobor castle?” he asked her as they found themselves back on the road. He knew he was still smiling like an idiot, the flush of getting caught swirling with the flush of a happy engagement. 

“No….”

His eyes narrowed.

“Ok, fine, I do! It’s now or never and it’s not going to be as good as the one we just saw but let’s see it and then we’ll take the first bus back to Zagreb and–”

“Ok,” he cut off her persuasive speech. He pulled his phone out again to check the map. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. We should make the most of our time even if we’re tired. I don’t want you to regret it later. No regrets with me, got it?”

She squeezed his hand, “I don’t have any. I hope you don’t either.” With a wink she set off.

He tugged her hand the opposite direction, “I will if you go that way, it’s the wrong way.”

“No, the map!”

“It’s not a compass, that’s not north.”

“How do you know?” she demanded.

“Wait,” Jungkook decided, seeing the man who’d chased them off coming down the path. “Excuse me! Can you tell us the right way to go?”

“Ah, my hero,” Alex beamed and just ogled her ring, leaving him to figure out directions to the castle he didn’t even care about.

But actually he did care. He understood enjoying the moment to the fullest. He wanted to see everything too. He really did feel refreshed, like he could once again fully appreciate how cool it was to be walking through a town on the other side of the world from home, hand in hand with Alex.

His fiance.

“Hey let’s take a photo together at the castle and pretend I proposed there,” he suggested.

“No way. I’m going to tell everyone the whole story. Falling down the mountain. How you almost lost the ring. How I proposed first.”

“How you led us to a place we weren’t supposed to go?” he pointed out. “And almost got us killed falling down the mountain?” It was an exaggeration. He didn’t care.

Gleefully she pointed out, “How you followed me up and falling down the mountain?”

“Yeah well… I’ll follow you anywhere, I guess.”

“All right, follow me into the next cake shop on the way. You deserve another piece,” she deigned, and patted his cheek with the hand sporting his ring, the result of all his extra hard work and planning. 

“Yeah, I really do.”

“Why did you say it like that?!”

“It’s hard work being your ride or die, Alex. You take me places I’ve never been before–”

“I know! Just think, without me, you’d never even know how much you like prostate org–”

“Heeeey, come on. Why are you bringing that up? We’re talking about cake!”

“Just thinking about what we’ll do if we call it an early night tonight.”

He snickered and assured her, “That’s cute, your little idea, but let’s be real, you’ll be snoring on the bus back and I’m going to have to carry you to our hotel.”

“I seem to remember you were the one who fell asleep after you swore you’d stay awake and made us miss our stop in Austria–”

“Ok but why was I so tired, Alex? Because someone got too drunk our last night in Prague and I was up all night holding her hair back–”

“Yeah what the hell was in those drinks?”

“That you kept ordering?!”

“Well. Oh damn, soon I’ll be able to say ‘well you married me’ as a comeback,” she beamed up at him. “That’s going to feel so good.”

“Yeah. Real good self-burn there. You’re so good at comebacks.”

“Well, you’re the one who wants to marry me, so…”

He let out a noisy sigh and admitted, “You’re right. I’m pretty stupid, huh?”

“Wait! No!”

He leaned down and dropped his voice, “Hey, speaking of cream cake to celebrate–”

“Oh my god, seriously?”

“You’re the one who wants to marry me. Damn, you’re right, that does feel good as an insult.”

“From now on when I want to strangle you, I’ll just gaze at my ruby and remember why.”

“Because you love me,” he grinned.

“Hm.”

“Because you want to spend forever with me.”

“Love my ruby.”

“And me. Say it.”

She rolled her eyes. “And you.” But her smile cut through the playful sigh. She was happy. He was happy. Bam was going to be so happy when they told him too even if he didn’t understand because nothing was really changing, he would just be excited because they were. 

He kissed the top of her head and then pulled the bakery door open for her so they could get a celebratory treat on their way to another fucking castle. Every day was an adventure with this one and he looked forward to a lifetime of them. As long as there was Alex and cake, he’d be good to go. 

And that's a wrap! Thank you so much for every comment, like, reblog, and moment of your time you spent reading my little story. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing these two! <3

Story Masterlist || My Writing Masterlist

#jungkook ff #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook ff #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook au #jungkok smut #jungkook f2l #jungkooksmut

[nashaalya]

I've resumed my work on "Literary Croatian", a fictional version of Standard Croatian invented for a project about a Croatia-led Yugoslavia (map's not mine, before you ask; but I vibe with the borders)

Prior to the mid-19th century, Croatian nationalists had a tendency to consider all the peoples we'd now recognise as Yugoslavs part of the Croatian natio - consider, for example, the ethographic work of Pavao Ritter. This isn't a peculiarity of Croatian ethnography per se; Serbian ethnography has (famously) traditionally considered the Serbian natio to include all South Slavs. Perhaps I should devote a separate post to the early development of Croat and Serb national movements... I digress - this timeline imagines, in essence, a successful 'Greater Croatia' in the proper sense: a Croatia incorporating all Serbo-Croatian lands, ruled from Zagreb. Perhaps Austria manages to annex Serbia during one of its endless wars with the Ottomans, or something; in any case, I quite like the idea of the Serbian Orthodox Church reconciling with the Holy See ITTL. Serbs as Byzantine rite Catholic Croats! Imagine!

Unlike OTL Croatian, Literary Croatian represents the language's pitch accent system in writing - whence the acute and grave. The rest of the orthography is more-or-less faithful to OTL Croatian, if somewhat archaic (gj instead of đ for /dʑ/) and bohemicised (ň instead of nj for /ɲ/). The names themselves, however, have nothing to do with IRL Croatian:

Kùmagj is from /ˈku:mat/, the reconstructed Old Egyptian name for Egypt (whence "Kemet"). I love it so, so much. Kavíre is from Ottoman Turkish Kahire, w regular h>v/V_V

Vláška literally translates to "Wallachia" - vlah (from pGermanic *walhaz, the origin of "Walloon", "Cornwall", and "Wales") is the usual Slavic word for Romance-speaking peoples in general, particularly those of the Balkans. Compare Polish Włochy, "Italy"

Lengjélia is from Hungarian lengyel, "Pole", from pSlavic *lęděninъ, "Lendian; field-dweller".

Junána is another Turkish loanword, from Yunanistan. Literally no word for the Greeks more beautiful than derivatives of the Ionian name - fight me

Eštrivia is an irregular derivative of Bavarian Eestreu, "Austria". Vídeň is a direct borrowing from Czech; I prefer it over native Croatian Beč (from Hungarian Bécs).

Lúna is from pSlavic *luna. Though most Slavic languages have replaced their respective descendants of *luna with some variety of "measurer" (Croatian mjesec, Czech měsíc, from the same root as English "Moon"), the Literary Croatian word for the satellite reflects the original Slavic name - not cognate with Latin Luna, surprisingly enough!

All the other names are Etruscan. Using (latinised) Etruscan names for the planets is not a peculiarity of Literary Croatian, but rather a feature of all my alt-hist projects; it's just a bit of aesthetic furnish I like to add, like making Pisces the first sign of the Zodiac (like in the Voynich Manuscript) or moving New Year's back to March.

(Oh, and - the Literary Croatian word for England is Gremária; for America, Virgjínia.)

#i have no interest in conlanging per se #but i love etymology n inventing exonyms

[salvadorbonaparte]

I think I'm going to sign up for a summer course in Croatian. They had plenty of languages I'm interested in but this is one of my focus languages for the year.

#langblr

[aristotels]

do you have any online resources for Balkan books? i'm learning croatian so it would be cool to practice reading actual books instead of just balkan twitter

balkandownload.org , knjige.club and iirc libgen has some croatian and serbian things

go crazy :) if u want croatian book reccs too, from our authors id reccommend anything by ivica ivanišević (my fav is "primavera", esp since its very classic dalmatian setting) and renato baretić. baretić's "osmi povjerenik" is a cult book, but since it uses a lot of dialect, and a made up dialect too, it might be too advanced. "hotel grand" is also a fantastic book of his, that one might be easier to get through.

if you want classics, one of my favorite book series is "grička vještica" by marija jurić zagorka (the first croatian female journalist). its 7 books, with plot taking place during maria theresa's rule of hungary, but the speed and the twists are like a modern netflix show. she did the "enemies to lovers" trope back in like the 1910. and she and jane austen are the only people ive ever liked it from. ive read all the books like 5 times, and insisted my sister is named Nera after the main character. if netflix producers read this, they would sign the production papers within 10 seconds of finishing the books. unlike krleža, she wrote in a quite simple style and language (tho there is nothing simple about croatian anywhere i guess).

if you want to read some poetry i recc dobriša cesarić - he is one of the most famous croatian poets, and his poems are simple but with incredible flow. you can also find the texts online without downloading. just google dobriša cesarić pjesme. :) "balada iz predgrađa" is one of his best ones. "voćka poslije kiše" is something every single croat can quote.

grigor vitez was also a wonderful poet but he wrote for children - idk what level youre at, but that might be a good start too! his poems are beautiful. "kad bi drveće hodalo", for example.

on topic of poetry, since this is a communist and antifascist blog, i recc you the main poem of yugoslavia: desanka maksimović's "krvava bajka" about genocide in kragujevac. its short and you can find it on wikipedia.

from recent books which were translated to croatian i rly enjoyed nita prose's "maid" and from this french author "fresh water for flowers" (too tired to remember her name rn). anthony doerrs "the light we cannot see" is a bit reactionary but still a great read. "the cathedral" (cant remember the author rn) also won me over.

if you want to watch a good movie i recc "svećenikova djeca", if you can find the torrent. idt i was able to last time when i wanted to watch it. :/

from bands, if you want to hear some dalmatian music and accents, i reccommend daleka obala, tutti frutti band, dino dvornik ("afrika" and "manijak" are bangers), oliver dragojević (listen to "nadalina" its super cool!), TBF ("genije" plays in my head always) and if u wanna see the traditional split dance just search "splitsko kolo" on youtube :)

i can also just send you my own book if u wanna read that lol (im a published author in croatia, and a class traitor for advocating book piracy here on tumblr i guess) . it does use some dalmatian slang tho.

[eurovision-facts]

Eurovision Fact #50:

Over the contest’s 66 year history, a total of 61 different languages (62 if you count all of the songs sung in imaginary languages as another language) and dialects have been sung by contestants. This does not include songs that only featured a word or two in another language.

The most common language sung at the contest is English. A total of 754 songs have been sung entirely or partially in English.  The second most popular language is French, with 179 entries entirely or partially sung in the language.

Other popular languages that have been sung at least 20 times include:

German, Italian, Spanish, Dutch, Portuguese, Greek, Hebrew, Swedish, Norwegian, Finnish, Turkish, Danish, Serbo-Croatian, Croatian, and Slovene.

A total of 193 songs have been sung in a language that has been used less than 20 times. These languages are:

Serbian, Icelandic, Russian, Polish, Bosnian, Hungarian, Macedonian, Albanian, Romanian, Estonian, Montenegrin, Bulgarian, Catalan, Ukrainian, Slovak, Armenian, Georgian, imaginary languages, Lithuanian, Luxembourgish, Arabic, Breton, Corsican, Maltese, Romani, Antillean Creole, Belarusian, Crimean Tatar, Czech, “Franglais,” Irish, Latin, Latvian, Mühlviertlerisch, Neapolitan, Romansh, Samogitian, Sranan Tongo, Styrian, Swahili, Tahitian, Udmurt, Viennese, Vorarlbergish, and Võro.

20 languages have only been sung once:

Antillean Creole, Belarusian, Crimean Tatar, Czech, “Franglais,” Irish, Latin, Latvian, Mühlviertlerisch, Neapolitan, Romansh, Samogitian, Sranan Tongo, Styrian, Swahili, Tahitian, Udmurt, Viennese, Vorarlbergish, and Võro.

5 performances featured sign language on stage, each time a different form of sign language was used:

Latvian, Polish, Lithuanian, Yugoslav, and French.

When collecting this data, if a song was sung in multiple languages, each language was counted as having been sung once. An example would be "In Corpore Sano" by Konstrakta sung at the 2022 contest. Both Latin and Serbian were counted as being sung once. 

[Sources]:

Fact requested by: @because-its-eurovision

Roxburgh, Gordon (2012). Songs for Europe: The United Kingdom at the Eurovision Song Contest. Volume One: The 1950s and 1960s. Prestatyn: Telos Publishing. ISBN 978-1-84583-065-6.

Participants of Lugano 1956, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Frankfurt 1957, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Hilversum 1958, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Cannes 1959, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of London 1960, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Cannes 1961, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Luxembourg 1962, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of London 1963, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Copenhagen 1964, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Naples 1965, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Luxembourg 1966, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Vienna 1967, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of London 1968, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Madrid 1969, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Amsterdam 1970, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Dublin 1971, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Edinburgh 1972, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Luxembourg 1973, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Brighton 1974, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Stockholm 1975, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of the Hague 1976, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of London 1977, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Paris 1978, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Jerusalem 1979, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of the Hague 1980, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Dublin 1981, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Harrogate 1982, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Munich 1983, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Luxembourg 1984, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Gothenburg 1985, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Bergen 1986, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Brussels 1987, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Dublin 1988, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Lausanne 1989, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Zagreb 1990, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Rome 1991, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Malmö 1992, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Millstreet 1993, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Dublin 1994, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Dublin 1995, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Oslo 1996, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Dublin 1997, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Birmingham 1998, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Jerusalem 1999, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Stockholm 2000, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Copenhagen 2001, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Tallinn 2002, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Riga 2003, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Istanbul 2004, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Kyiv 2005, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Athens 2006, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Helsinki 2007, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Belgrade 2008, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Moscow 2009, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Oslo 2010, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Düsseldorf 2011, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Baku 2012, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Malmö  2013, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Copenhagen 2014, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Vienna 2015, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Stockholm 2016, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Kyiv 2017, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Lisbon 2018, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Tel Aviv 2019, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Rotterdam 2021, Eurovision.tv.

Participants of Turin 2022, Eurovision.tv. 

List of Eurovision Song Contest Entries (1956-2003), Wikipedia.com.

List of Eurovision Song Contest Entries (2004-present), Wikipedia.com.

List of Languages in the Eurovision Song Contest, Wikipedia.com.

#esc #eurovision #eurovision song contest #esc facts oc #eurovision facts oc #language #languages #request #because-its-eurovision

[nightsidewrestling]

D.U.D.E Bios: Barbara Di Napoli (2021)

The Sister of Honey Barbara Di Napoli

The Sister of Honey, Enrico and Walter, and daughter of Kevin and Novella. A high-school senior who was held back a year due to misbehaviour and skipping classes.

“I got held back in grade nine, fuck that.”

Name

Full Legal Name: Barbara Fiamma Di Napoli

First Name: Barbara

Meaning: Derived from Greek ‘Barbaros’ meaning 'Foreign’.

Pronunciation: BAHR-bra

Origin: English, Italian, French, German, Polish, Hungarian, Slovene, Croatian, Dutch, Swedish, Danish, Norwegian, Late Roman

Middle Name: Fiamma

Meaning: Means 'Flame’ in Italian

Pronunciation: FYAM-ma

Origin: Italian

Surname: Di Napoli

Meaning: Means 'From Naples’ in Italian

Pronunciation: dee-NA-po-lee

Origin: Italian

Alias: None

Reason: None

Nicknames: Bobbie

Titles: Mr

Characteristics

Age: 20

Gender: Female. She/Her Pronouns

Race: Human

Nationality: Italian-American

Ethnicity: White

Birth Date: July 20th 2001

Symbols: None

Sexuality: Bisexual

Religion: Atheist

Native Language: Italian

Spoken Languages: Italian, English, French, Spanish

Relationship Status: Single

Astrological Sign: Cancer

Theme Song (Ringtone on Honey’s Phone): 'La paranza’ - Daniele Silvestri

Voice Actor: Cristina Capotondi

Geographical Characteristics

Birthplace: Asbury Park, Monmouth County, New Jersey

Current Location: Asbury Park, Monmouth County, New Jersey

Hometown: Asbury Park, Monmouth County, New Jersey

Appearance

Height: 5'6" / 167 cm

Weight: 150 lbs / 68 kg

Eye Colour: Brown

Hair Colour: Ginger

Hair Dye: None

Body Hair: N/A

Facial Hair: N/A

Tattoos: (As of Jan 2020) None

Piercings: Ear Lobe (Both), Navel

Scars: None

Health and Fitness

Allergies: None

Alcoholic, Smoker, Drug User: Social Drinker

Illnesses/Disorders: None

Medications: None

Any Specific Diet: None

Relationships

Allies: N/A

Enemies: N/A

Friends: 

Colleagues: N/A

Rivals: None

Closest Confidant: Honey Di Napoli

Mentor: Kevin Di Napoli

Significant Other: None

Previous Partners: None of note

Parents: Kevin Di Napoli (46, Father), Novella Di Napoli (47, Mother, Née Capitani)

Parents-in-Law: None

Siblings: Honey Di Napoli (26, Sister), Enrico Di Napoli (23, Brother), Walter Di Napoli (17, Brother)

Siblings-In-Law: None

Nieces & Nephews: None

Children: None

Children-In-Law: None

Grandkids: None

Great Grandkids: None

Wrestling

Billed From: None

Trainer: None

Managers: None

Wrestlers Managed: N/A

Debut: N/A

Debut Match: N/A

Retired: N/A

Retirement Match: N/A

Wrestling Style: N/A

Stables: N/A

Teams: N/A

Regular Moves: N/A

Finishers: N/A

Refers To Fans As: N/A

Extras

Trivia: Nothing of Note

#D.U.D.E #original character #Di Napoli #Family. Not a Wrestler

[candlelitutopia]

thank you so much for tagging me lovelies <3 @caspersruudd @bwehdal

tea, coffee, or soda? imma tea girly but i drink coffee for the placebo effect and because of peer pressure.

dogs or cats? cats all the way. i was 4 when i first asked my parents to get us a cat and they said if I still want one by the time I'm 8 will get it. guess who misjudged my stubbornness and had to get a cat 4 years later :p

can you play any instrument? i wish. i have my mum's old guitar that i strum sometimes but one string broke and I don't care enough to fix it :/

what’s your sun sign? gemini

first song lyrics that pops into your head? "slow down, you're doing fine. you can't be everything you wanna be before your time"

do you have any tattoos? yes, two. planning on getting at least 2 more in the very near future.

favorite place you’ve travelled? oof, so many. was on an exchange for 6 months in brussels, but that's mostly for the people I met there. the croatian cost for the nostalgia cause that's where we always went during summer with my family.

what’s the last movie you watched? 80 for brady, cause I can tolerate any man if I also get over an hour and a half of jane fonda, lily tomlin, sally fields and rita moreno :)

do you have any hobbies? watching tennis <- and other sports, reading, being boring

what languages do you speak? english and slovenian. i studied german through school but could only get through an introduction tbh

you can hang out with one fictional character for an hour, who do you choose? king arthur (idk, but i'd love to hear how he would tackle today's political division lol)

compliment yourself! you're pretty smart and very independent.

I'm tagging: @fedalev, @veyoux, @youreamonocoque and @cuetheviolins if you wanna do it/haven't done it yet ofc 😽

#tagalong

[khodorkovskaya]

09.07.23

so i met up with the ukrainian guy! backstory for those who missed it: his mum gave my mum his number and i texted him "hey let's hang out".

so we met at the trainstation and went to the lake. and honestly...? idk if he was just shy but like he was so uninteresting. just like no flavour. i kept asking him questions like "what do you do in your free time?" "do you do any sports?" "do you have any hobbies" etc etc. and the response to everything was "i don't really do much".

i was a bit weirded out cos like... what does he do in life? he's never had even a little student job (i told him that i used to give lessons, volunteer, catsit, hostessing, etc. when i was a teen), he doesn't have any hobbies (he said he likes to watch football but like that's it), he doesn't have a lot of friends (he follows classes online and only goes to uni if there's a group project or sth like that). idk i was just confused. and he said that he doesn't really study that much and gets average grades, so it's not like his life is taken over by uni. like what does he do?

so yeah, he was just like this dude who likes football and listens to french rap and has no personality. again, maybe he was just shy. but idk. he was just so plain. i have to say, his mother was right, he was tall and handsome. but since he was so uninteresting, i just could not see him as attractive. he gave off virgin vibes idk. not in a way like "looool what a virgin loser", but like idk he just lacked any kind of attractive energy, you know what i mean? like there's a huge difference when you talk to teens/men in their early 20s vs men in their late twenties and older. like there's more of this "sexual tension" feeling, idk how to explain it. like "older" guys are more sort of like at ease with their body language and stuff and the way they talk to women. whereas this guy gave off highschooler vibes. not in a mean way, but he was just like undercooked, you know? like a teenager.

it's weird bc he reminded me a lot of this friend i had in high school. well he was more of my zurich friend's friend. but it was funny bc i set up a date for him. i had these two friends in my class, one serbian girl and one croatian girl. and i wanted to set up the serbian girl with this guy, so we went for a walk the four of us. and then me and the croatian girl just like left the two alone. it didn't work out and was super awkward but it was hilarious. and then, the funny thing is! the guy went to serbia that summer and got an std! and that was the last time id heard of him. he used to post stories from some generic clubs in the balkans on instagram from time to time. but now idk what he's up to. but yeah, the guy i went on a "date" with reminded me a lot of him in like his way of speaking and holding himself.

oh also he knew my zurich friend! it's weird bc it seems like all russian speakers know each other! all of them went to russian school when they were kids. it's weird bc when we came here my mum wanted us to integrate as much as possible, so we never went to any russian speaking events, she never signed me up for russian classes or anything like that. but like there's a whole community of russians/ukrainians/moldovans that hang out together all the time and they're all childhood friends. and i feel like ive missed out a bit bc everyone knows everyone and im just there like 😅

other than that, today father paul was celebrating 50 yrs of being a priest. and guys the liturgy today was so good! the choir really ate!

also bishop irinei of western europe came to visit and idk he gave off weird vibes. ive seen his youtube shorts and idk he's weird.

also there was cake! and it looked really good! so i wanted to take a piece but they said that it hadn't been blessed yet. so i was like okay, i'll wait. and it was 35 degrees today and we were all outside with no shade and no water. so i waited for this cake for like 20 minutes and it felt like hours. and when they finally blessed it, everyone got a piece and there wasn't any left for me!

but there was a lot of other food too like there were these two balkan ladies who made sarma and it was like 10/10. and there were also all different kinds of what i guess was pirozki..? and some other ethnic cuisine i didn't quite understand. probably armenian/georgian? like they had pies and rice and all kinds of good stuff. and there were the usual russian dishes like borsh and russian salad. and someone made avocado toast too so i was like yum. it was all really good!

it was a shame it was so hot tho bc i was like oo finally im gonna try and socialise and maybe make friends. but there was no shade! so i ate as quick as possible and ran to the nearest water fountain bc it was unbearable. i managed to talk to these two ladies who i think were of russian origin but didn't speak russian. their names were alla and ksenia and we talked for a bit about how father paul is really nice. but yeah that's it, it was too hot.

then i got home, lay on the bed and ended up taking a 5 hour nap... it was wild. i woke up at 6pm and felt like i just got run over by a bus. and now im all tired and disoriented. and it's still 30 degrees outside! i can't with this heat!

btw look at what father emilian posted today what a slay

#july

[thepercy6andtheradicalsabbatical]

Pompeii to Naples to Rome to FCO to Dubrovnik

We awoke the next morning and Becca and Matt decided to take advantage of the relatively flat and pedestrian friendly terrain (ie 80% had sidewalks and/or bike paths) and go on a longer run. We then packed up and headed out of our place and caught the circumvesuviana train back to Naples for our last time after getting super familiar with it over the last few days. By circumvesuviana standards it was relatively uncrowded (ie half of us got seats) and not too hot (ie only Matt got called out by his daughter for beading sweat off his elbow). In Naples we ended up with about an hour to kill in Naopli centrale before our train to Rome. We spent this purchasing an assortment of very delicious pastries across the street and tasty sandwiches in the food court in the station. Our train to Rome was slightly delayed in departing due to “awaiting approval from the control tower, which we expect shortly”, but otherwise nice/fast/comfortable. In Rome, Matt had purchased tickets to the airport in advance with our eurail passes that required us to connect in Trastevere. We hadn’t gotten the chance to check out Trastevere much due to getting rained out on our previous opportunity the week prior so we decided to try going there earlier than scheduled then get on our airport train at the scheduled time … of course, given we got on the wrong (1 hour earlier than our tickets)  train, this was the first Italian train where there was a ticket inspector in our car. Matt showed her the tickets and after scanning the tickets she told him that the tickets were for a train in one hour, and therefore “no good”, but just shook her head at us and moved along. At Trastevere station Matt realized we were actually about 1 mile south of the “hip” part of Trastevere and we didn’t really feel like walking given we had all our bags, so we headed to a nearby playground to kill time, them headed back to the station and caught our train to FCO. Once at the airport we saw the Vueling check in desk was not yet open so hung out and recombobulated bags/items a bit to get flight ready. When the desk opened we dropped bags and went through the family security line with no issues at all. Matt and the children then stood in line for one more Venchi gelato (the place with the chocolate waterfall we had first tried in Florence) and Becca grabbed a dinner of sandwiches and salad at Eataly. We then let the kids play a bit at the in-airport playground, then headed to our gate. Boarding was delayed a bit but otherwise smooth and we made up for almost all of the delay in the air on a short 50 minute flight from Rome to Dubrovnik and arrived within a few minutes of scheduled landing time. Matt was fired up to poach the L hand side window seat from children and get great views at sunset on landing. We deplaned easily, waited for bags and departed with no customs (thanks to Croatia recently joining the Schengnen area). The kids were impressed to see a guy standing at the airport door with a sign that said “Matt Percy” (we’d arranged a private pickup through our airbnb host due to a late arrival and the airport being a ways out of town). Our driver, Luka, said "let's go" and walked us quickly to the van tossing the sign in the trash before I could snap a pic. En route, he told us several sights we should see including what he claimed was the world’s shortest river and taught us some Croatian language basics (all of which we may have forgotten) on the drive to pass the time. Our aribnb host Luko then met us outside the “bikers bar” and walked us down several sets of stairs to our apartment complex where we checked out the cool views of old town from the edge of our balcony, then unpacked and headed to bed after a long day of travel.

[rosandguilarehead1968]

america is sooo scary to me like how can a country sooo big with states bigger than my entire country several times over only speak one language.... (colonialism obviously i Know but still) like okay i am a known language fan and most ppl probably dont get as much enjoyment out of recognising once again that you somehow remembered that exit in croatian is izlaz etc but still it only takes a few hours of driving to get to a place where ppl speak something completely different (again im a bit biased bc hungarian isnt like anything for the neighbours its probably more similar) whereas over there you can just drive for ever and all the signs will still be in english.... eek

#wizardspeak

[lumism]

wow i finally remembered to actually do one of these! thank you sm cerise for the tag 😊 mwah! 🤍🌟🌷

nicknames: many, but most people call me điđa.. and lumi is a nickname as well!

real name: luiđa

zodiac sign: pisces! + taurus moon and aquarius rising

favourite musicians: voxtrot and maya hawke are currently my top two most listened, according to spotify!

favourite sports team: i don't really follow team sports, but if i don't answer hajduk my dad will probably know it somehow

sports i watch: figure skating! also waterpolo games, but only the live ones i go to in the summer. and my brother's judo matches

do i get asks? yeah! i'm not always the best at quick answers, but i love getting them❣🫂

how many people do i follow? 118

tumblr crushes: it's mutual @roseateveils 💖 also um more or less all of the 118 people i follow (with a special note for @stbyers !)

lucky number: i don't think i have one, but i do like the shape of any number that starts with 4 or 7!

what i'm wearing: a light blue dress with white polka dots 👗🌛🌸

dream vacation: as a swedish language student who has not yet been to sweden i feel as though that needs to be my answer. but also all of the places where my long time internet friends live!

dream car: apologies but i do not dream of cars. in fact i've never even thought of them </3

favourite food: i love anything chocolate (save for ice cream)

favourite drink: earl grey w milk! i am drinking a cup rn :^)

instruments: i used to play the piano for school, but i haven't tried in years.. also i have a guitar but do not know how to play it at all

languages: croatian, english, swedish, some german and three years of high-school latin. starting norwegian next semester!

celebrity crush: katie mcgrath (we r engaged) & simone ashley

i tag @uglysweaterwheeler @nancysglock @ronancesluvr ! please ignore me if you already did this or just can't be bothered 💕

#i love it when people tag me in these but i ALWAYS forget 🤦 #tag game #txt

[salvadorbonaparte]

booked an A1 Croatian course online and bookmarked some other courses for next time I got some money and want to have some Structure in my learning (Yiddish, Romanian, Turkish, Farsi, Finnish, Irish, Korean, Hindi, Sign Language.....)

#langblr

[potterandpromises]

where the spirit meets the bones

This is different from what I usually write, in style, structure and content. I hope some of you like it nonetheless!

Also on AO3

The trouble began twice, first in 1980 in Pula, Croatia when Lorena saw her first ghost, then again on a crisp October morning in 2014 when Lorena sees another of herself, dazed and staring at her from across the kitchen table.

Most ghosts just want someone to share their pain. Most are happy to share by talking. 

Other ghosts, of all sorts but very often young men who died by violence, severely want to affect the world. They want to cause pain, and she’s always been the only part of the world who could see and hear them. She’s never met one who wasn’t surprised, who said: ‘ah, I’ve met people like you before.’

Often, she is happy to talk. In fact, she loves to help solve the occasional murder or missing persons case via information passed between a ghost and her and the anonymous tip lines. But not always. Sometimes, for example, she is taking her daughter to the park, yet can’t help looking at nothing for a little too long to try and guess the era of their clothing. Some ghosts will then shout at her and she tries not to look or flinch or react in anyway, but that is thus far impossible.

For her part, other Lorena, ghost Lorena, who happens to be dressed in the same pale pink nightgown as the living Lorena, does not speak. She watches.

The living Lorena does not speak to her either. Not because Iris is also at the table— she doesn’t know anything other then her mother speaking to no one, and honestly Lorena isn’t ready to rule out the possibility that she too will one day see ghosts— but because, just as Lorena has decided that ‘what are you doing here?’ is as good an introduction as any in this situation, Iris spills her juice cup into her cereal bowl and the bowl’s rattle echoes the room like a gunshot and anyway, Lorena does acknowledge she may still be crazy even if she is satisfied with faith and other explanations.

She doesn’t mention it to Garcia when he kisses her goodbye, either, because it is entirely possible she will go away. Not all ghosts mean to be where they are, and curiously, they can not just teleport.

She does go away.

Or, more precisely, Lorena catches a glimpse of her silvery form in the backseat of her husband’s car, next to Iris in her car seat, ready for kindergarten.

-

God knows she is open to other possibilities but basically, she’s been aware of ghosts for 34 years and she knows one when she sees one.

She is dead.

She is also alive.

Her ghost walks up to her at her desk towards the end of her work day. She tells herself: “hello.”

She does not answer, but her pupils, in her wobbly, watery form, do slide in the direction of her lips.

“Can you hear me?”

The other Lorena tilts her head a little, focuses more on her lips. Otherwise she is very still. Lorena has never been that still in her life.

“Did you call for me?” Lorena’s coworker, Craig, pokes his head through the door.

She smiles, tight-lipped. “No.”

So, ghost Lorena is deaf. Her vision seems to be intact. So far Lorena’s only theories are a collision of dimensions or a Dickens-esque message from God.

Some ghosts remember their lives very well. Others do not. Lorena has always suspected this is for the best. She tests her ghost’s memory.

She thinks for a moment, is startled by the window into that recent time in her life, holds up her hand and makes the appropriate shape.

Ghost Lorena perks up and signs back. Hi.

They both remember.

Lorena taught Iris baby sign language from a VHS tape and pamphlet she brought at the library discard sale. It’s not a proper language, she cannot, for example, ask herself how she died like she could if she knew ASL or Croatian Sign Language, but it should make simple communication easier then if she had to write absolutely everything or expect the other Lorena to read lips on top of everything else.

They smile at each other.

-

She picks Iris up from school and they spend the afternoon sticking pieces of construction paper together.

“Did you want me to use up the fish?”

Her ghost self is watching them, and she thinks, absurdly, despite all her experience: doesn’t she have anything else to do?

“What?”

“For dinner?” Garcia says, watches her more closely.

She shakes her head a little. “Anything’s fine.”

“Are you seeing ghosts?” he asks, tentative.

“Later,” she says, and turns back to Iris.

-

Iris wants them both at bedtime again. She’s developing a cough and Lorena does not, today, push anyone to be alone.

The other Lorena watches so very sadly, her face coming back in expression if not in color. She does consider gesturing for her to glide through the wall, just for a moment of privacy, but finds that she can not begrudge her this, although boundaries will likely be needed if she is not ready or perhaps not able in any sense to cross over.

“One more,” Iris says. “One more story?”

“One more goodnight,” Garcia says. “Two more goodnights.” He sets her plush stuffed snowy owl into the crock of her elbow. “Three more goodnights.” He kisses the top of her forehead and pulls away. Lorena follows suit, finds that she feels a bit out of body herself, and all three of them— Iris stays— make their way into their bedroom. Ghost Lorena takes the way through the walls and is there by the time her and Garcia open the door.

Garcia flicks his tongue, looks into her eyes, waits for her to share whatever crazy impossible thing she’s seen today.

“I, um.” She knows he believes her, took some time to wrap his head around it in the beginning but has always listened. Still, this is asking a lot.

“Are you alright?”

Lorena considers the ghost, looks at her own hand, her fingers splaying. “I mean, yeah. Now I am.”

That does not alleviate his concern. 

Ghosts cannot touch people, even her, or animals or other ghosts. There are no exceptions that she’s seen or been told about, and she does ask plenty of different ghosts the same questions to be sure. Garcia also knows however, about that one very creative former teenage girl who discovered that by merging with the insides of Lorena’s car then sort of jumping in front of it, she could almost murder her.

“There is,” she glances down at the off-red carpet that she’s always disliked, then back at him with conviction, “a ghost right across the room.” She gestures in the ghost’s general direction. Ghost Lorena is looking at Garcia.

“Is it,” he starts. “Are they anyone we know?”

If anything, he looks relieved. It wasn’t a near accident or a near involuntary hospital stay or any of the things she’s had nightmares of ghosts doing to her come awake.

She had, in the past, seen his mother, back when Iris was a newborn. Her and Lorena had talked. Maria and Garcia had talked with Lorena as the go between. She’d gotten to meet her grandchild even if her grandchild hadn’t quite met her. She’d stayed for awhile. Maria and Garcia settled things between them.

Lorena bites her lip. “Sort of. I— it’s me, Garcia, I’m looking at myself, right there, as a ghost.”

Several things cross his face. He works his jaw. “But, you’re not dead,” he tries.

The other Lorena may not be able to hear but she must guess what’s going on by their faces because she reaches for Garcia’s forearm and her hand flutters through him.

“She’s trying to touch you.”

He looks around as if he might see.

There’s a look of devastation and increasing desperation on her other face that Lorena hopes she herself never feels but knows in her bones she will.

“it’s okay. It’ll be okay.” Although if anything she guesses it won’t be and certainly not for this other self— well, not yet, anyway. She could still cross over.

He runs a hand through his hair, pulls at it. “Have you asked her,” his voice falters, “I don’t know, what’s going on?”

“She can’t hear and I don’t think she can talk.” Lorena did not see her sit down at the table but that doesn’t mean she appeared there. She imagines her ghost waking up for the first time in her bed, with her and Garcia still in it, sitting up and screaming and triggering no effect. “I think it’s because she’s from another dimension, I guess?”

Another timeline? Another somewhere? She’d heard of those theories but has never considered it as an actuality. Mostly, she wants to know why. But if there’s a warning or an explanation to give, if that’s the reason she’s here, if she even knows why she’s here, then Lorena suspects she’d be able to tell her.

“Another dimension,” Garcia echoes.

“Or something like that, I think. This hasn’t ever happened before. I’ve never seen anyone I know is alive.

And she does look them up, if they give a name. She doesn’t always find proof of death but she’s never found proof of life. That’s why most days she’s at least 95% sure she isn’t crazy, or if she is, then the craziness is divine in nature and not actually a bad thing.

“I’m going to try writing down some yes or no questions, see if she can tell us anything.”

“Right,” Garcia says, and repeats: “right.”

Lorena thinks maybe she should’ve waited to drop that bomb until the weekend, let him sleep a few more nights, but Iris’ cough worsens and it turns out not to matter.

They both get up. All three of them go to her room. When Iris falls asleep in Lorena’s lap she asks him to find papers, a pen, the whiteboard and dry erase markers.

“Write down: ‘why are you here?’”

He writes what she says on one of the sheets of printer paper, hesitates, becomes stiff. “We need to ask her how she died.”

Meanwhile, ghost Lorena has perked up at the sight of words she can understand and is alternating between shrugging and shaking her head.

“Yeah, I— I guess. I do want to know, but I also can’t unknow, or know if I’ll die the same way she did or not.”

Iris stirs in her lap. “Mama, what are you talking about?” Her voice has grown froggy since they put her to bed.

Garcia answers. “Nothing, sweetheart, just some, ah, theoretics.”

Iris wrinkles her nose, both at the dental of adult information and at the unfamiliar word.

They wait in silence for a few minutes. Lorena strokes Iris’ hair. Garcia’s eyes take in every inch of her holding their sleeping child, committing her to memory.

“Wait,” he says, low and hoarse. “How did— how does she look? Does she look old?”

“No,” she glances at the ghost, who’s frowning, arms crossed. Being a ghost obscures wrinkles and sunspots noticed later in pictures from life, but her ghost isn’t significantly older then she is now. “She could be a little older, maybe, but she looks like I do now.” She is, of course, still wearing Lorena’s clothes, although no longer the clothes currently on her body.

“Do ghosts always look how they do when they die?” he asks. “I know you said the injuries can disappear, that what killed them isn’t usually visible. But do they ever look younger?”

She realizes she’s only ever described ghosts very generally except for his mother. He knew the shimmer and the haze and ripples through the walls like water from his mother only, and she’s almost always been open, and they’ve known each other for how long?

“No, they always look how they looked when they died expect for the injuries that never had a chance to heal into scars.” She’s met her fair share of thin and bald ghosts.

She can see him silently curse.

She lets the silence hang.

Iris’ other mother takes a few steps and tries to run her fingers through her baby’s hair and it’s probably a coincidence, but Iris stirs and sighs.

Garcia watches her track the nonexistent movement of her ghost stepping back. “Maybe she’s here so we can prevent it.”

“Maybe she’s here so we can give her peace somehow.” If there are multiple universes and multiple versions of herself, and this is the version where she lived and didn’t leave her child without a mother, then maybe the other Lorena will feel better just knowing that? But she hasn’t left yet, and if she doesn’t know why she’s here, Lorena suspects she isn’t close to satisfied.

“I need to know,” he says. “Even if knowing will make it worse I need to know.”

So they come up with the common ways to die, split into the categories of illness, accident, and murder, figuring the beauty of the whiteboard is that they can write down more specific questions once it’s narrowed down into a category.

Ghost Lorena looks on with enthusiasm.

But before she learns how her other self died and forgets her curiosities, Lorena insists Garcia first write down some simple questions about how the universe works because even though she suspects her ghost has not reached unity with God, she does not know for sure, and therefore must ask.

Future conversations ready, Garcia begins to write in huge capital letters on the fateful whiteboard and before he even finishes ghost Lorena is jabbing her finger through the word murder; in and out several times like tapping, so excited to finally tell someone even if it’s just herself.

Then she points to Iris.

Then to Lorena, then Iris, then Lorena then back at herself and at the word murder and at all three of them and at the word murder and not at Garcia and at the word murder and makes it so clear—

“Lorena?”

She pulls Iris up into her arms without meaning to. Her baby whimpers and with no warning Lorena bursts into tears.

Garcia crawls across the bed and she does not tell him because she wants him to keep writing questions and she does not tell him because she can’t breathe.

“Mama?”

She doesn’t tell him because Iris is crying now too and she thinks he might be as well and she knows nothing will ever be the same again and she knows it’s Wednesday night and neither of them will be going to work until at least Monday.

-

When no one’s sobbing and Lorena can mostly see again, although her eyes are tired, ghost Lorena puts a finger through the word fate and shrugs in an exaggerated manner.

-

Of course she tells him, whispers it in his ear in the middle of the night. She cannot hide the details of her pain and supposes her dead self and her living self have a lot in common.

He sucks in a breath. Iris is breathing inches from their faces, asleep and oblivious on his chest.

“She made it clear she doesn’t know what that means for us.”

Garcia doesn’t reply but reaches up and strokes Iris’ hair.

-

In the morning of her confused, shadow mourning, Lorena hears Garcia start to tell Iris that last night was nothing to worry about. Mamas get upset too, just like how Iris gets upset and she assumes he says it’s a normal part of life or whatever but she doesn’t stay to find out. She goes and sits on the porch for reasons she’s too tired to name.

Her ghost does not follow her, which is great because her ghost watched her whole family sleep last night and if she joined her now Lorena would start screaming.

It is, of course, not actually true that Lorena is normal. Iris will learn that in the coming years, or the coming days, weeks, seconds.

She pays attention to her breathing and begins to calm. Yes, her own ghost appeared and told her that her very alive child is (was?) dead. But actually, everything is fine, for now.

As if on sick queue, a mother pushes a stroller up the street. A little ghost, maybe seven years old, skips behind them.

The only dead children Lorena’s talked to were either murdered, said they were scared to leave their families or both.

She goes back inside.

Her ghost is standing by the calendar, waving her over as if ushering a plane landing. Lorena offers herself a tight lipped smile.

She points to a date, two days ago. The last day before she appeared, Lorena slowly realizes. Her ghost makes a cutting motion at her throat, then points to her chest, sort of spreads her hand in front, as if to reassure Lorena that the thing that was severed wasn’t her throat.

Lorena finds that she doesn’t really care how exactly it happened but does care how quickly and if her baby was in pain—

Iris must have died first, Lorena realizes, because her ghost doesn’t know anything about fate or God or why she’s here so Iris must have died first and during the last moment of her life she must have known her child was dead.

Her ghost signs: good, and it takes her several dull seconds to figure out what could possibly be good until her impatient ghost points again to the dates on the calendar. The day before she arrived and now and the days in between. It’s a good sign that her and Iris aren’t dead yet; a sign against insurmountable, unchangeable fate.

She gives her ghost a thumbs up.

-

No one dies who isn’t already dead. Iris gets sicker, then better, and the four of them settle into a routine. Her and Garcia begin to sleep longer if not deeper and Iris goes back to her own bed.

Lorena does a little research on Alternative and Augmentative Communication. She comes up with a white board full of words relevant to ghosts. Living with her ghost is a bit like having a new pet. It’s like taking in the shaggiest stray after finding it scavenging in the trash. It’s like figuring out the complex emotional needs of a raccoon, except the raccoon somehow actually is her, and also a constant reminder that she knows nothing, other then the fact that she and everyone she loves in the world will someday soon be dead too.

She also writes down ground rules, one rule per sheet of paper, and tapes them above her and Garcia’s bed. The rules include, ironically, staying out of the bedroom at night.

She does not, however, tell her ghost she can’t go to Iris’ room. Ghosts can’t sleep. It’d be inhumane to stop her from looking at her child for as long as she can. It would also be impossible. 

Lorena does imagine Iris, some night over dinner, talking about her other mother. Although she doesn’t actually have any basis to believe the ability to see and hear ghosts is genetic, she always thought, in the way of parents, that her child might be like her.

Her own mother told her not to talk to anyone about the silvery, shiny people. So she didn’t. The only person she ever told for the first time as an adult was Garcia, and that was only because he heard her losing it at an uncommonly obnoxious ghost outside a bar she didn’t want to be at and he found her alone.

She did ask once, in her 20s, if her mother saw them too. She said no, she didn’t, that yes she always believed Lorena, and that for people like her, who knew things no one else knew, staying quiet was staying safe. If she told people what she knew she’d be lucky if she was dismissed. She’d be lucky if it made her an outcast with no friends. People like her were institutionalized. People like her were martyred before they were ventured.

The thing is, outside of the rare moments right after she is told about the car in the river, the blood soaked mattress, the bones under the moss, Lorena doesn’t feel like she has any special knowledge.

Ghosts don’t have any special knowledge beyond their own lives, deaths, and afterlives. For a few she’s met, it’s been so long that they barely remember a time before all this strangeness.

She hardly remembers a time before all this.

-

The better part of a year passes and they try to adopt a dog, but Lorena’s ghost comes with and the Labrador mix known as Maggie barks and lunges at her.

Her jaws snap through her translucent silver target, and she pauses for a moment, utterly perplexed. She turns and barks at the living Lorena instead.

“I’m so sorry.” The SPCA worker tugs on Maggie’s leach, guides her to the gate. “I’ve never seen her like this before. She’s always been friendly.”

Iris buries her face in Lorena’s hip.

“Not everyone can get along,” Garcia reassures.

They get a hamster instead.

-

Ghost Lorena grows bolder and experiments with her non-body. She messes around, half stomps through the floor then pulls herself back up. She punches perfectly nice strangers in the face just to get a reaction out of her living counterpart.

Lorena watches herself silently cackle that day in the coffee shop. She wants her ghost to heal, but also to be happy, whatever that means for her.

She can’t feel it when ghosts touch or move through her. Nothing. No coldness. Not even a twinge. She used to think there was something small there, a sensation like tickling, goosebumps almost. But this feeling, when it exists, is supplied by her subconscious. The matter is settled for her one evening when she is cooking dinner, and she glances down to see a silver hand with splayed fingers sticking out of her abdomen.

She gasps like she’s been stabbed, drops her spatula and burns herself.

She yells at her ghost, not that it does literally anything. But she does not stay mad for long, because it’s all exactly what she would have done in that position. And she writes it down, the fact that she really didn’t feel anything, because had the roles been revered she’d want to know.

Her ghost continues to pull pranks using her inability to manipulate objects, but to her credit, exercises better judgment most of the time.

-

The routines work. Anything can become normal. 

The hamster grows old and Iris grows taller. Lorena and Garcia watch her grow. Lorena’s ghost watches her grow, too. She isn’t fated to die at five and life goes on.

One evening, as Lorena is folding laundry, her ghost stands by the whiteboard and shoves a finger through the word go. She then makes a movement with her hands that Lorena can’t decipher.

She shrugs and shakes her head, mouths her lack of comprehension.

Ghost Lorena jumps and flaps her arms like wings. For several seconds, Lorena thinks her ghost is telling her she’s about to cross over. That’s fine. That’s great. Lorena figured and hoped that she would be ready and able eventually, but grief surprises her, twinges in her midsection.

Frustrated, her ghost changes her gesture, more clearly mimics a plane.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Lorena says out loud.

Ghost Lorena signs: more. More words. Lorena learns after several minutes that her ghost plans to visit Alaska for an as-yet-unknown length of time. She may go elsewhere, too, but then she’s coming back.

Lorena has never wanted what little ghosts have, except for right now, at the thought of not being bothered by cramped airplanes, of riding the wing of the plane over Alaska, of walking right through TSA, invisible and invincible.

With a pink marker in big letters she writes: I am so happy for you!

-

Her ghost leaves, and comes back, and leaves and returns again, and tells Lorena as much as she can about her trips. It isn’t life. Lorena is not informed of any epic ghost love stories. But it is something. It’s what her ghost needs, and she seems sort of happy, certainly less burdened, as time goes on.

Years pass in that way, four since her ghost arrived, and one morning in late summer she wakes up and finds her ghost gone.

She’s stringent about communication, has never been gone more then a few hours without telling Lorena first.

She guesses, senses the permanence of her absence, and although she expected to get a goodbye like with Maria, she’s at peace with it.

Except Garcia isn’t in bed when she wakes up. He didn’t leave a note. She calls him, expects to find out he needed to go into work early even as her anxiety worsens. 

He isn’t at work. He isn’t dying of a brain bleed at he bottom of the basement  stairs.

The neighbors didn’t see him leave the house.

#timeless #lorynn #lorena flynn #garcia flynn #iris flynn #fanfiction #my fanfic tag #fic: where the spirit meets the bones #this was inspired by reading the dead romantics #(which i don’t really recommend; it was just okay) #i wrote the first draft on impulse in more or less one session #and held back when editing in order to preserve the dashed off style #quite a different writing experience for me

[ditezadarsko]

i was tagged by @ysommer ! thank you very much <3

tea, coffee, or soda? honestly really hard to choose, but i would have to go with coffee!

dogs or cats? CATS ALL THE WAY!! always had at least one cat since being a child, now have a little tuxedo baby called Šime

can you play an instrument? no :(

what’s your sign? libra

first song lyrics that pops into your head? hips don't lie (listening to it rn)

do you have any tattoos? nope but really thinking about getting one

favourite place you’ve travelled? probably Omiš, one of the most beautiful cities i've been in so far

what’s the last movie you’ve watched? the twilight saga: new moon

do you have any hobbies? i recently got into reading (super sad i haven't started before, bolje ikad nego nikad), listening to music and going on walks

what languages do you speak? croatian, english and a bit of italian

you can hang out with one fictional character for an hour, who do you choose? a tough one, but probably any of the og avengers, h2o just add water characters or edward cullen

compliment yourself! your hair is so so beautiful!!

since i haven't been on here for quite some time i forgot most of my moots (i'm deeply sorry) so anyone who wants to do this go ahead <3