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yoongihan · 2 years ago

Note

hi hi! Can I ask for a drabble with Seungmin and the prompt "Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?" and "I can't hold back anymore" as friends to lovers? Thank you 🥺

pairing: seungmin x femreader

genre: smut, fluff, f2l (as requested :D)

rating: M for light smut

word count: ~2k

warnings: smut in the form of a hand job (m. receiving), making out, implied other happenings, some cursing, name-calling (it's seungmin, what do you expect), I don't think there's much else, honestly.

a/n: sorry this took so long @multiland. also a huge thank you to @jl-micasea-fics for brainstorming this dynamic with me. my first time writing Seungmin and I had a lot of fun! also, I probably missed some typos/mistakes...apologies.

original request post here

99% Idiot

The things you do for friends.

Especially the things you do for Seungmin (who is definitely just a friend).

“Are you bored?” he asks when you let out a big sigh the moment he turns away to peruse his paraphernalia.

“I mean, holding still while you overthink is actually really stimulating, Min.”

He side-eyes you while still glancing over his array of palettes. “I am not overthinking. I’m considering what might be best.”

“Overthinking,” you sing-song at him. He turns, holding one of the brushes he has gathered for this experience.

“You’re a brat.”

“But I’m still right.” You smile at him, intent on making him smile back. “My face is your canvas, and makeup remover exists. So stop playing chess.”

There it is. The little quirk of his lips. You point at it.

“What?”

“You smiled.”

“Did not.” The serious student is back but his eyes sparkle, so you know…you totally win. “Stay still.”

You drop your hand, fake-pout before trying to keep your face neutral. Seungmin has been really worried about this assignment in his Creative Makeup class.

“Something new. That’s the assignment! Create something new!” he complained at you two days ago. “Like that’s just easy. So much has been done before. How can I even–” He looked at you then, frustration etched on his face.

“My face is at your disposal.” Because what else could you say? You aren’t a creative like him. You aren’t nearly as diligent a student as him. You know so little about makeup (you stopped trying to enhance yourself with makeup the moment Seungmin asked why you owned blue eyeshadow with that horrified expression of his) that the only thing you can offer is yourself.

Um, your face. Not like all of you. Body and soul to Kim Seungmin. That would be…a bit much.

He’s doing something to your eyebrows currently. He plucks one hair and you wince.

“Ow.”

“Baby.”

It’s an insult. You know that, but the name-calling is a little too sweet-sounding for your overworked and repressing brain.

“Tyrant,” you respond.

He grins widely at that. Of course, he would be flattered by an unflattering title.

Why are you friends with him?

He’s leaned in to brush something on your cheeks and you wonder how wise volunteering to be his guinea pig (where does that even come from? Why guinea pig? Were they the first volunteering rodent out there?) when his face is that close.

He’s such an interesting version of beauty. No one looking at him would think him anything but attractive, but it’s not a ‘smack you in the face’ kind of beauty (you picture Seungmin’s friend Hyunjin who regularly smacks you with his hotness and it’s hella intimidating and you kinda want to run away). Seungmin is a subtle beauty. Thoughtful eyes, amused lips, fluffy hair. He’s lanky, but he did beat you in arm wrestling. Which isn’t anything to write home about, but he is stronger than he looks.

His face is sweet, though some would argue that he is not, he really is. He’s just not overt about it. He mocks you regularly, but you don’t think he would if it actually hurt your feelings. He’s soft with Felix, who is the most sensitive of your friend group. When you try and wrap your arm around his shoulders, he ducks away. When Felix does it, Seungmin just takes it.

You’re not jealous of Felix or anything.

“Where’d you go?” he asks, jolting you back to the present. He’s cocked his head to the side, staring at you.

You don’t take it seriously. He’s doing your makeup for fucks sake. Even if the scrutiny is a bit much for your composure.

“Somewhere where my face isn’t being looked at like a science experiment.”

He rolls his eyes before holding your chin in his hand. “Lips.”

You really are an idiot 99% of the time.

You pucker them exaggeratedly and he huffs at you.

“Slightly parted, pabo.”

That’s one of his nicknames for you. But he calls Jisung that too, so it’s not special or anything.

You ‘slightly part’ your lips, trying to pretend that having him this close, touching you, laser-focused on your mouth is all normal and cool.

He paints your lower lip with a tiny brush, meticulous. His thumb touches the bottom of your lip to keep it from moving too much.

“Your face is red.”

“Guess you did a shitty job, then,” you retort. One corner of his mouth turns up and his eyes meet yours just for a second before he returns to the job at hand.

He works on your top lip before speaking again: “I do appreciate this.”

You are now speechless.

He laughs when you raise your eyebrows. “I do. I do a lot on my own face, but I know the contours of everything so well now. You’re…you have different contours.”

“Is that a compliment?” You mean to sound cocky, but the thready quality of your voice ruins that completely.

He shrugs, before reaching to smooth something at the corner of your lips. “It’s not not a compliment.”

Your turn to roll your eyes as he holds out a hand mirror in front of you.

You see the reflection’s eyes widen. He’s literally made you look not like you. Your eyes seem bigger, nose narrower, cheeks higher, and lips fuller.

When you look at him over the mirror, he snaps a photo on his phone.

“Hey, I wasn’t ready.”

He makes a dismissive sound before taking another. “What do you think?”

You look back at the mirror. “I think I could be a spy if you were in charge of my disguises. I do not look like myself.” And maybe you’re fishing. “I look…pretty.”

He groans and takes the mirror out of your hand. “Fuck off, you are pretty.” He starts to angle your face and takes a few more photos. “Eyes closed please.”

You shut your eyes, your heart a little fluttery at the disgruntled compliment.

“Thank you Seungmin.”

When you open your eyes, he’s about to use a makeup remover wipe on your face.

“What? Why?”

“You think that’s it?”

The groan you let out makes him giggle.

You have no idea how many minutes or hours pass, but your face feels very abused and he’s tried four looks on you.

“My face has lost like seven layers of skin,” you whine when he wipes your face again.

“Unlikely, but skin tends to grow back pretty easily so just skip classes for a few weeks.” He rubs the cloth over your lips as you pout, laughing when your lower lip makes a noise as it bounces back into position.

“I hope you fail this assignment.”

“No you don’t,” he answers easily before coating his hands in something then putting it on your face. “Lotion. Face lotion. I stole it from Hyunjin.”

“Well, if it’s Hyunjin’s then I guess it’s good.” You don’t question why he’s doing it when you have two perfectly good hands. It’s kind of nice. He’s actually gentle. Your eyes close when he massages along your jaw. “Does this mean you’re done torturing me?” You open your eyes to see him staring at you oddly. He drops his hands and turns back to his plethora of makeup and skincare.

He dabs something on his finger before returning, this time to your lips. You make a sound at the contact and he freezes, eyes darting to yours.

You’re not used to Seungmin looking out of his depth.

“I…your lips too,” he says, swallowing before drawing his finger along your bottom lip. “They need moisture.” He presses his own lips together as he rehydrates your top lip. He doesn’t pull back immediately, his finger still lightly touching. “Better?”

You don’t know how words work anymore.

His face is flushed now, cheeks pink and his ears almost red. He mumbles your name, as though to prompt you to say something, but all you can focus on is how his hand is finally drawing away and you’re sort of following.

“Your face is red,” you whisper. He shrugs but doesn’t make eye contact. “Min…”

That’s when he looks up, eyes that are usually full of mischief and are just wide and concerned right now.

You really are an idiot 99% of the time.

But it’s the 1% (you hope) that speaks up:

“Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?”

You watch as his eyes fall to your well-moisturized lips then back to your gaze.

You’re going to take that as a ‘yes’.

When you tug him close by the collar of his windbreaker, his hands find purchase on your jean-clad thighs before your mouths meet. You have thought previously of what it might be like to kiss Seungmin, and you thought he might be just as logical and rational about kissing as he seems to be with everything else.

You were wrong.

You forgot about how passionate he is about things that matter to him.

His tongue seeks yours almost immediately, you hear his sharp intake of breath at the way you return the kiss, mouth open and your hands nearly pulling him out of his seat. He stumbles a bit, before settling onto your lap, his hands now at your hips. He squeezes them before pulling at your t-shirt to untuck it from your jeans. When his hands touch your skin, you bite his lower lip and he jerks back to look at you.

That’s when you realize you are still holding on to his collar with a death grip. You loosen your fingers before cupping his face in your hands, your thumb soothing where you’ve just bit.

He’s panting, those eyes still wide, but much darker now. You lean in, gauging his response before brushing your mouth on his. He moans softly, kissing you back, his hands trailing up your sides until he reaches your bra. When he lets his fingers drift over the cup, tickling your breast, you jolt right against him.

In case you weren’t sure if he was into it, feeling how hard he is sets your mind at ease.

When you press your hand there, he lets out another moan before his face drops into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck you,” he whispers.

“I mean,” you begin, trying to get your own breath back. “I think that’s what you’re wanting to do.”

You feel a nip on your skin and you shiver. You stroke a little harder through his sweats and he rocks into your hand.

“You feel so good, baby.” He lifts his head to meet your eyes. “Baby,” he repeats, when you smile at him. He kisses your nose then lips again. “You keep doing that…I can’t hold back anymore…”

“You threatening me, Kim Seungmin?”

He kisses you again, grinding before you slip your hand past his waistband. He trembles.

“Yes,” he groans. “I promise to torture you next…” You feel his fingers tighten their hold on you and it’s honestly the best thing you’ve ever done.

He comes in a matter of what feels like seconds, slumping against you. You carefully tuck him back into his pants, dropping a kiss to his cheek. He raises up to glare at you before kissing you back. It’s languid, the slow strokes of his tongue, one of his hands returning to your breast. When you shudder at his touch, you feel his chuckle more than hear it, his mouth leaving yours to trail to cheek then ear. One nibble on your earlobe has you making a sound that you know he’ll mock you for eternity about.

“Didn’t you already torture me? The whole makeup thing?” you ask, mild pleading in your words.

He slides off your lap and takes your hand. “You make a good point.” He pulls you off the chair and down the hallway as you stagger behind him. “Guess I better thank you properly then.” He whirls you into his bedroom and shuts the door behind him.

The things you do for friends.

Especially the things you do for Seungmin (who is no longer just a friend).

© yoongihan 2023. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans.

#seungmin smut #stray kids smut #seungmin fluff #stray kids fluff #seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids drabble #seungmin drabble #seungmin imagines #straykidsland #my writing

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horuslupercal · 7 months ago

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got asked on the Guilliman post so

How Primarchs Cry (To Me)

Lion: represses and represses and represses and then hides away in a closet squished into the corner like a cat on its deathbed but otherwise cries pretty normally. do not point it out to him. gets defensive if you point it out

Fulgrim: gets headaches from crying so hard. keeps a handkerchief nearby because his face gets all gross. at some point in every hardcore crying session he verbally says, "enough." because it annoys him

Perturabo: trying everything in his power to give off the vibe that he never cries. takes every breath very carefully to make sure it's silent, confidently strides off away from this shit (hides away), etc

Khan: is fine, is fine, is fine, and then he's laying in bed and suddenly has to bolt upright to cry into his hands because holy shit that's sure a wave of emotion. it's okay, it'll pass, but hooooly shit at this exact moment it hurts. doesn't want to be seen but it's not the worst thing in the world if he is

Russ: crawls under Freki and Geri like when they were pups and cries for a good while. at some point he rolls over and runs his hand over his face and then grabs one of his brothers around the neck for a wrestle session and he's either fine or he's fine enough to keep on keeping on

Dorn: goes to a private room, does the "I am in control of my emotions" like Spock in that one TOS episode, and then spins around and puts his fist through the wall. opens the door with a hole in the wall and his hair no longer perfectly coiffed and his face blotchy and red and tells you he wasn't crying

Konrad: either silently weeping or wailing like a banshee. never in between. he doesn't choose which.

Sanguinius: the only primarch who can pretty cry but only up to a certain level. at some point he starts screaming and wailing like a fox caught in a bear trap and doubling over in pain and his hair gets all stuck to his face

Ferrus: throws tantrums. doesn't collapse to the floor like a toddler but does start breaking things. makes fun of the reason for his upset -- the mid-funeral roast session in some au where Fulgrim dies pre-heresy would get him cancelled on twitter because it's the only way he can deal with something that shattering. I'm pretty sure I got that headcanon from @luwupercal actually

Angron: cries for all sorts of reasons. sometimes the nails make him cry, not because they hurt or because he hates them but just because they're directly fucking with his brain chemistry. that's the kind of passive cry where he's crying but it's not an event, it's just his tear ducts doing their thing. used to seek out comfort from his siblings in the pit when he was crying from emotion, now he flips tables and screams

Guilliman: an asthmatic pug caught in a plastic ring. gasping for air, sounds like he's being strangled, the works. sounds like he's dying

Mortarion: also sounds asthmatic, on account of the asthma. his tear ducts don't work right so he doesn't really "cry" so much as hyperventilate and occasionally dry heave

Magnus: the crying is what it is, the psychic crying is the real event. his aura gets real sticky and slow and sad, like syrup, and has a tendency to kind of. contaminate other people with his grief unless he specifically stops it from doing that. I feel like he cries when he's mad, too

Horus: sits down and covers his mouth with his hand and puts his elbow on his knee and cries like that. for some reason I feel like it's especially weird for the luna wolves to see him cry -- it's always weird to see your parent cry, but it's extra weird for them and I'm not sure why. horus sitting on a couch crying with his head in his hands and two luna wolves sending panicked looks at each other 👍

Lorgar: compresses/hugs himself so hard he can't breathe, digs his nails into his skin, etc. we saw in the first heretic that he makes himself physically uncomfortable about grief and that's really stuck with me tbh. doesn't really.... know how to cry without also being in physical pain about it

Vulkan: bows his head and weeps, standing right where he is. weirdly bad at being okay with his own grief specifically -- he'll comfort a brother without issue, but his own makes him feel on edge and sedentary and he needs to move and do something and not stand here being sad, he needs to take action, he can't let it be sticky and slow

Corvus: repression king. he can't cry right now he's too BUSY. fuck this shit. and then there's a trigger and he shatters like a popsicle bridge with too much weight on it. the year of isolation before his departure definitely involved a blanket burrito

Alpharius Omegon: how do they need to cry for this scenario?

#warhammer #it's me #primarchs

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thistledropkick · 1 year ago

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Last year, Kasai Jun was interviewed as part of the interview project DEATH, which interviews various people about death in order to find a better understanding of how to live and appreciate life.

I thought it was a fascinating interview, so I decided to translate it.

Please go visit the original interview - the photography accompanying it is absolutely gorgeous.

Also, please don't repost this whole translation elsewhere. If you want to quote an excerpt of my translation for something, please make sure to also credit the original team behind this interview and link back to the original interview.

Deathmatch Fighter Kasai Jun - 4/27/2022

“It’s not a deathmatch until you return home alive” The reason this 47 year old Charisma Wrestler continues to shed blood in the ring

Within pro wrestling, there is a genre called “deathmatch.”

An extreme set of rules that allows deadly weapons and has no disqualifications. Brawls with fluorescent light tubes, and dives onto barbed wire boards. Without hesitation, wrestlers stab their opponents in the head with fistfuls of bamboo skewers. When wound-covered bodies violently collide, shards of glass and sprays of blood shower the ringside seats.

Upon first seeing it, surely everyone thinks “Why are these people hurting each other like this?” “What the hell am I looking at?”

This is the world of the man known as “Charisma,” professional Wrestler Kasai Jun of the independent promotion Pro Wrestling Freedoms.

In November of 2009, he had a “razorblade board plus alpha deathmatch” against Ito Ryuji in Tokyo’s Korakuen Hall. Kasai, 35 years old at the time, dove from the second floor balcony, a fall of 6 meters, onto a table, aiming for his opponent Ito.

Afterwards they continued to fight with various weapons, in a match that concluded 15 seconds before the 30 minute time limit. That year, this match was awarded the Best Bout award. And Kasai, the winner of that match, became a living legend overnight.

12 years have passed since then. Kasai is now 47 years old, and he continues to rule over the world of deathmatch wrestling. Under the weight of many literal life-or-death battles, Kasai’s body no longer moves the way it did when he was young. Even so, why does he continue to set foot in such a dangerous place?

We asked “Charisma of Deathmatch” - a man who makes the crowd go mad in the space between life and death - about his views on death and on life.

Desiring to truly feel alive

- Normally, people try to avoid pain and suffering. Kasai, why do you continue to shed blood in the ring?

Hahaha. From an outside perspective, you must really wonder “Why do you keep doing something so painful” huh? That’s a normal way to feel. But from the wrestler’s perspective, it’s completely different.

In your normal daily life, do you ever feel like “Ahh, it’s so glorious to be alive”? You’d almost never unconsciously blurt out something like that.

But in a life or death battle in a deathmatch ring, after you step down from that ring, that’s exactly what you feel. “Ahh, I’m alive. I’m so grateful to be alive.” Because of that, I can’t quit.

Mountain climbers and stuntmen probably feel like this too, don’t they. Stepping into a situation where their life could end, and returning home safely. I wonder if they’re searching for that feeling of being “truly alive.”

This feeling is passed on to the audience too. Fans often tell me “Watching Kasai Jun’s deathmatch gives me the strength to continue forward.”

They say things like, “I’m being bullied at school so I wasn’t going to go any more, but now I feel like I can keep going.” Or, “It’s exhausting to keep going to work, but after seeing Kasai persevere while shedding blood in the ring, I can persevere and keep going to work.”

Recently I can’t do this much because of covid, but in the past when I’d sell merch, fans would often say things like this to me.

Because of this, it seems to me that deathmatch wrestling is simultaneously a way for wrestlers to feel truly alive, and a way for those who watch it to feel more positively about living.

- Because of the sensational way “death” is shown in the ring?

Probably, yeah. Because it looks like we’re doing something really painful.

But don’t get me wrong. We aren’t in a particular hurry to die. And we aren’t wasting our lives either. What I always say is, “It’s not a deathmatch until you return alive.”

[Note from me - this phrase (生きて帰るまでがデスマッチ) is a play on a well-known Japanese phrase 家に帰るまでが遠足 “The field trip isn’t over until we return home.” This started as something a teacher would say to students in their care, and Kasai has altered it into his motto towards both himself and other deathmatch wrestlers.]

- It’s not a deathmatch until you return alive.

If you get in a ring where you might die or get seriously injured, and you do die, or you do get seriously injured, you’re no different than a rank amateur, right? But a guy who dives into a deadly dangerous situation and returns from that ring unharmed, he’s the absolute greatest and the absolute coolest.

Like a stuntman, right? If he returns home alive, people say “amazing,” but if he dies, he’s no longer a pro.

At 35 years old, his view on life did a complete 180 during a match

But, when I was young, I thought about it completely differently. I never thought “I’m grateful to be alive.” In the ring, I did dangerous stuff and defeated my opponents. I just thought of it as my job.

The more dangerous stuff I did, the more people said “Kasai is amazing!” That felt really great. Every time I stepped into the right I thought, if something goes wrong and I die I guess that’s how it goes. I thought “Deathmatches should be a memento mori.”

- What caused such a big change in your values?

That match against Ito Ryuji in Korakuen, in 2009. It changed my mental state by 180 degrees.

The truth is, I went into that match thinking “This is my last match before I retire.” Because it was my last match, I would do everything I wanted to do. Win or lose, I went into the ring thinking “I’ll retire.”

But during the match, my feelings completely changed. I thought “If I quit like this, I’ll be half-dead.” There’s nothing else I want to do, and I’ve never felt joy like this anywhere else. It was just too much fun.

So, after the match ended with 15 seconds remaining, I announced my decision to continue wrestling. “I was thinking of retiring but, I’m gonna keep going.” That’s what changed.

- Since your values have changed so significantly from when you thought it’d be good to die in the ring, what’s your “ideal death” now?

Spending the day with my family as I always do, watching tv with an after-dinner drink as I always do, getting comfy in my futon as I always do, and passing away. That’s the best death, isn’t it.

I’ve said it before but, people who say “It’s my ambition to die in the ring” are just trying to look cool. For a pro, it all comes down to returning home alive. And so, I believe that when the life of Kasai Jun the human being comes to an end, Kasai Jun the wrestler will die as well. I want to be a pro wrestler until I die. That’s how I feel now.

When I was young, I thought the best time for a wrestler to retire was when he could still move, when people would say “It’s a shame, because there’s still more he can do.” But if that’s true, I’ve already missed my best time to retire.

Since I’ve come this far, maybe it’s better to keep doing this until my death. Since around the time I turned 40, I started thinking this way.

Gaining years = leveling up. I’ll reach my peak just before death.

- Since you’ve been doing this for so long, it’s inevitable that your body has become weaker. Kasai, how have you dealt with aging?

The word “elderly” is a concept created by human beings, isn’t it? Since that’s the case, I believe it’s something we can absolutely overcome. I don’t think increasing in age is the same as becoming elderly.

Look, it’s true that my physical stamina has decreased and my muscles have gotten weaker than they were when I was younger. But my will and my spirit have continued to grow. Instead of just breaking even, I think I’ve leveled up. 47 years old is level 47. I now see growing older as a positive, like leveling up every year.

Because of that, my peak has yet to come. I’ll reach my peak just before I die. I’ll be at my strongest just before my death. That’s the ideal I envision for myself.

There was a time when I felt insecure about my age. When I hit my mid 30s, I hated that my body was becoming weaker.

But then, while drinking at home and watching a documentary on TV about (rock musician) Yazawa Eikichi, I realized something. “If you think about it, uncool young people are uncool, and cool guys are cool even if they’re old.” Since then, my way of thinking changed. I started calling getting older “leveling up” at around that time.

[Note from me: Suzuki Minoru also refers to getting one year older as “leveling up” in the exact same way. They are friends, so I assume Suzuki got it from Kasai.]

- I'm surprised that a pro athlete who uses his body as a weapon would think of aging in that way.

Pro wrestling and deathmatch are unique among sports. Unlike say, track and field, or swimming, it isn’t a competition where every second counts. I can’t move the way I could when I was young any more, but through my facial expressions, pauses during matches, and so on, I have many ways to express myself.

A guy can be handsome, macho, with great muscles, and completely suck as a wrestler. In contrast, a guy like me who’s ugly, short, and middle-aged, can get support from the fans. It’s a completely different genre, and that’s what makes pro wrestling so interesting.

- What about your emotional struggles? In your documentary film you said you were having some difficulty maintaining your motivation, which you described as “Deathmatch Erectile Dysfunction”

Yeah, well, that can definitely be a problem. When you’re young, you’ve just got piles of hopes and dreams and things you want to do. But as the years go on, and as you accomplish those things, you can kind of get lost.

What’s helped me increase my motivation has been the existence of people who make me think “I absolutely don’t wanna lose to this guy” or “I don’t want this guy to take all the best stuff for himself” In my case, for example, that’s been (fellow PW Freedoms deathmatch wrestler) Takeda Masashi. Or, although he’s from another organization, New Japan Pro Wrestling’s El Desperado.

That’s why for the past 3 or 4 years, I’ve been asking people to “stimulate me.” I want intimidating people to keep approaching me. Well, on the other hand, if they take the most delicious part for themselves, that’s a problem.

A fear of death led to a “selfish life”

- Incidentally, perhaps it’s too late at this point, but do you worry about being injured or dying?

I said it already but, “It’s not a deathmatch until you return alive.” Since I’m a pro, I have the skills required to do this without death or injury.

But, it’d be a lie to say “I’m not afraid.” Even now, for several days before a match I get so stressed that I can’t sleep. Despite how I look, I get plenty scared. Much of my life has been driven by a strong fear of death.

- How do you mean?

It sounds silly, but when I was in grade school I believed in “The Prophecies of Nostradamus.” Have you ever heard of it? “In the year 1999, all of humanity will be destroyed.” Every night I shook with fear in my futon, thinking that my life would end at the age of 24.

Propelled by that fear, I concluded, “If the earth is gonna get destroyed anyway, I should quit studying. Instead I should use the rest of my remaining lifetime to do stuff that I like.” I completely quit studying, and instead spent all my time watching pro wrestling, which I loved.

Conversely, my fear of death also led me to become a pro wrestler. After graduating high school, I got a job in Tokyo as a security guard, but I gave into temptation and visited brothels daily. One day I happened to be reading a magazine with an HIV checklist inside, and almost every item applied to me.

At that time, I still thought “AIDS = death” so I thought “Oh, this is AIDS.” “Oh, this is how I’ll die.”

Luckily, when I got tested the result was negative, but after preparing myself for death, I thought “I really should do what I want” and knocked on the door of Big Japan Pro Wrestling. My life has always been influenced in this way.

- I get the impression that many wrestlers die at an early age. Since then, your fear must have increased.

Nah, that’s not really true. I’m surprisingly practical about the deaths of others. I just accept it, like “That’s the kind of life you lived.” I suspect my fear of death isn’t a fear of death itself, but a fear of becoming nothing.

- A fear of becoming nothing.

I’m no (actor and spiritualist) Tanba Tetsuro, but if after you die, you go to the spirit world, and cross the Sanzu river, that’s not all that scary is it? I wouldn’t go so far as to say “it’s fine if I die” but there’s some kind of hope or meaning. But if “After death, you become complete nothingness” “After death you feel no joy or sadness” I think that’s really scary.

But these days, I don’t experience that fear of death as much as I used to. If after this interview a dump truck hits me and I die, I wouldn’t have any regrets. I could say I did what I wanted to do.

Pro wrestling is a business where you depend on your popularity with an audience, but I’ve never tried to flatter the audience to get sales or support, or thought about how to increase my popularity. Ultimately, Kasai Jun puts himself first. I’m my own number one.

To die without regrets is to win at life

- But, if someone wanted to imitate your way of life, I think most people would be profoundly afraid of not getting by financially, or of being rejected by society. Why do you think you remain stoic in the face of such fears?

What’s there worth imitating about me? If you’re selfish like me and you can change it, you should want to!

But, this is probably related to that “fear of becoming nothing” I mentioned earlier. Ever since I was little, I’ve thought stuff like “This whole world isn’t real” and “Maybe all of this is just a dream.”

Nothing in this world is certain. Since that’s the case, all you have are your own body and your own feelings. In short, I don’t believe in anything but myself, so I put myself first.

- So in order to “feel truly alive” you throw yourself into the painful world of deathmatch wrestling, which leads us back to where we started.

That’s right. I guess you could say that pain is the only thing I believe.

But when I was young, I did understand the fear of not making enough money to survive. When I was around 30 and my son had just been born, I was seized by that fear.

Really, I was broke, and I couldn’t even pay into the National Pension Fund like I was supposed to, so I went to the ward office and said “I do intend to pay, so please wait a little.” I thought to myself, “Living is so expensive and so difficult.”

- A deathmatch fighter scary enough to quiet a crying child, with such an everyday problem.

Three years after my debut, when I was around 27, I was badly injured. I quit Big Japan, and after a year’s absence, I transferred to a different group called Zero-One.

Zero-One was founded by ex-New Japan Pro Wrestler Hashimoto Shinya, and the pay was good compared to Big Japan, and they held a lot of shows, so I could wrestle frequently. The environment there was very pleasant.

But, due to the policy of the organization, I couldn’t do the deathmatches that I love. During that time as a “salaryman wrestler,” I survived, but I think deathmatch fighter Kasai Jun, pro wrestler Kasai Jun, was completely dead.

“I really should do the pro wrestling I want to do,” I thought, and I quit Zero-One, and persisted with the pro wrestling that I love. Maybe that’s why I feel like I can now “die without regrets.”

Ultimately, if you live your own life as you wish, and think “I have no regrets” when you die, you win. Maybe people today have lost sight of the essence of what it means to live. It’s fine to work hard at your job, but if you’re spending every day miserably, is that kind of life really okay with you?

I’d rather live for 20 years and laugh every day than live for 100 years and never smile. If you’ve lived for 100 years and never laughed, that’s the same as being dead, isn’t it?

写真：本永創太 ~ Photographer: Motonaga Souta

執筆：鈴木陸夫 ~ Author: Suzuki Atsuo

編集：日向コイケ（Huuuu）~ Editor: Hinata Koike (Huuuu)

#kasai jun #jun kasai #pw freedoms #pro wrestling #deathmatch #my translation #This is definitely the longest thing I have ever attempted to translate!#I've got nobody checking over my work or anything like that so as always apologies for any typos or errors that I didn't catch

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sluttywonwoo · 2 years ago

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DEAR LORD THE WY ASK GOT ME SO EMOTIONAL???? WHY DO I SEE SAN AS SOMEONE THAT WOULD DO THAT TOO??? MAYBE NOT EXACTLY THE SAME BUT THE WHOLE JEALOUS TUNNEL VISION SHIFT TO GUILT AND TEARS?? ESP WITH HOW MUCH OF A SWITCH HE IS WHEN HE PERFORMS… THANK YOU FOR WRITING THAT. THAT WAS A GOOD READ ALSO THANK U TO THE USER THAT SENT THAT ASK. I LOVE U BOTH.

a san ver. you say… also the idea for woo was sent by my irl bestie @sluttywoozi <3

switch!san is literally so important to me

cw: rough sex!! lil bit of injury during sex (obvs mdni this is an nsfw blog)

“gotta be quiet, okay? as much as i want that asshole to hear you cumming on my cock, we don’t want to get kicked out, do we?”

you shake your head in response, which seems to satisfy your boyfriend. san rewards you by snapping his hips into yours, bending you over the bathroom sink as he does.

the marble countertop is cold on your tits. you can feel the chill of it through the thin material of your shirt.

when he dragged you into the bar’s bathroom, san hadn’t even bothered with undressing you all the way. he just pushed your skirt up and pulled your panties aside and fucked you like that. hard and rough and fast.

it felt good, but the pace he’d set had your hips repeatedly slamming into the counter and you’re starting to get sore. you can already feel the spots where your body meets the marble starting to bruise and you can only imagine what they’ll look like come morning.

“ah, ow…” you groan, trying to wrestle your arms free from where san has then pinned behind your back.

san freezes. “ow? what’s ow? what hurts?what’s wrong?”

he’s quick to pull out and turn you around, giving you a once over as he holds your hands in his.

“san, it’s nothing—”

“don’t fucking lie to me.”

“my… my hips were just starting to get sore from the countertop. but i’m fine, really.”

san lets your hands fall to your sides so that he can use his own to assess the extent of the damage. his thumbs press gently into your sides and you wince, whimpering under your breath.

“oh my god, baby. i’m so so sorry. let me go ask the bartender for some ice—”

“w-wait, but we’re not done,” you protest.

“baby,” he tries, zipping up his jeans. “you’re hurting.”

“it’s not that bad!” he gives you a look. “i promise! we can just try a different position.”

“why don’t we just wait until we get home?” san suggests. “that way you can be nice and comfortable on the bed.”

“i want it now,” you pout. “i didn’t get to cum yet. and you’re still hard.”

“of course i’m still hard. it’s you.”

“then take me against the wall or something.”

“i honestly don’t think i can look myself in the eye right now,” he admits, eyeing the giant mirror that hung above the sink. “especially not while i fuck you.”

you frown. “baby, please don’t feel bad. it was an accident.”

“that doesn’t make it ok!”

“i know, but you already apologized,” you point out. he’s quiet for a moment. “are you not in the mood anymore?”

“no, no, i am! i just… hate that i was too rough on you— over something so stupid too. i hate being that guy.”

“i know, baby. and you’re not,” you insist. “but if you really want to show me how sorry you are…” you trail off and san nods eagerly, willing to do practically anything to make it right. “why don’t you get down on your knees for me and start by making me feel good?”

#answered #anon #emily 🌸#ateez smut #atz smut #san smut #choi san smut

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 9 months ago

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I CAN'T TAKE YOU ANYWHERE - DiscoPunk

Hobie x DiscoSpider!Diane have a normal, calm night on the town. 'The usual', if you will.

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

Hobie, trying to be the reasonable one here: Di-dove, you're plastered. We need to get your arse home, get your co-

Diane, screaming Hobies own lyrics in his face in a bad British accent because someone gave her six pints of beer:

If he hears her say 'Oi' one more time he's gonna scream 😭😭 This is why he can't take her to punk bars.

Pint 1 and she's acting like 'she's never drank this much before'. Or how she 'usually don't like beer'. Hobie has to resist rolling his eyes. He knows better.

'Now ain't that the perfect lie.'

Pint 2, she's trying to arm wrestle every guy who looks even remotely in her direction. Hobie has to start telling the guys to tell her no cause she'll end up hurting them 😭😭. It's as of she forgets she has GREAT POWER that comes with the great responsibility of not breaking dudes wrists cause you got too overexcited about winning.

Pint 3, she starts gaining a Liverpool accent for some reason that will stay the rest of the night. Now she's so drunk she keeps telling people she was born in Manchester (no where near Liverpool) and Hobie has to tell people that she means Manhattan. Not Manchester. She was born in Manhattan.

Everytime he does, she goes 'Oh, yeah!!' in her actually accent before breaking into laughter.

Pint 4, she starts doing that thing where she waves him aside and leans in his ear to yell

"YOU LOOK SO HAWT!!"

She did this roughly every five or ten minutes. He'll ask 'You gonna say the same thing?' she says no. He leans in. She says the same thing. 😭😭

Sometimes it'll be too loud to hear her. Or he'll be too drunk himself, or that shitty accent she's putting on is just That Bad so it's just them standing there going

'Huh?' - 'I SAID you look so hot!!!' - 'You what???' - 'You look really hot right now!!' - 'You want to smoke pot right now?' - 'NO! Well, YES. BUT I SAID-'

On and on and on.

Pint 5, she's just fucking missing.

Pint 6, she's back (she was at the TESCO stealing). She now wants to arm wrestle HIM. Also she wants to go home now cause the food she stole is nasty and she wants him to cook for her.

He already says he will cause for fucks sake it 3:30 he wants to go home 😭😭 He's like 'I'll cook you whatever-'

And for some reason she finds the words to moving she almost starts to cry. Reportedly cause 'I love you and I'm so fucking hungry'.

---------

'I want a Kraft dinner. Make me a Kraft dinner.'

'You gonna explain to me what that is?' Hobie asked, watching as Diane stumbled over to his couch, tossing herself on it in a heap.

Had she not been able to literally stick to the floor, he almost doubted she'd make it, the gently sway of the houseboat an enemy of nausea.

'Explain what?' she mumbled, face down in the cushions.

'Kraft Dinner.'

Diane popped her head up. 'You have some?'

'I don't know what 'some' is, Di. You have to explain it.'

'Explain what?'

'Diane, I'm too drunk for this.'

'Drunk for what?! You're making no sense!'

'Kraft Dinner!'

'What about it?!'

'What the bloody hell does that mean?!'

'Oh!!! Dinner means supper.'

'...'

'DIANE I KNOW WHAT DINNER MEANS'.

'Then what are you asking me?'

'What's Kraft?? Witchcraft??? You want me to conjure you up a meal like a spell? Want me to craft you a dinner like I'm crafting a sword? 😭😭'

'What are you bugging for??!! I asked for food! Why are you talking like a old timey orphan!!??'

'And WHY!!! ARE THE TWO OF YOU YELLING ABOUT MACARONI!!! AT 4 AM!!!' Gwen yells from upstairs.

#JUST GIVE HER THE MAC N CHEESE #Hobie is a Heinz man #His beans his ketchup his Mac n cheese #ALL HEINZ #this could be considered platonic or romantic tbh #spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #hobie brown x oc #hobie x oc #discopunk #spidersona #spidersonas

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aerodaltonimperial · 6 months ago

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Listen, Imma be real with y'all for a second.

In 2022, the Chrono Cross remaster came out for PS4. And that summer, I wrote a 50k epic about my two favorites from twenty years ago and dropped it on a long-dead fandom for an absolute rarepair. It was one of the most ridiculous, fruitless things I've ever written. I knew very few people would read it. I think I never got more than 50 hits on it. I did it anyway, because it was fun and I had a great time and I knew it was good. And then I got into wrestling, so I sort of never looked back at it, because I was writing other things.

I cannot tell you how many times I have opened up my AO3 account in the past... 6 months or so, and thought, so, people were only my friends while I was writing what they wanted, huh? I stopped writing this, and people just fled? I have opened up my old Hookhausen fics and sat with one finger hovering over the delete button so many times, because if that's all people cared about from me, I was gonna nuke it out of spite. I'm not necessarily proud of it, but it's felt awful this past half a year writing in such a bubble, and as my therapist can attest to, when I feel hurt, I lash out to hurt other people in turn. Vamp is the only reason I won't do it. But it's been so hard being plunged back into writing alone after so long of people caring what I was doing. It felt like writing that CC fic again, only this time, I knew that people had simply lost interest. In me as a person, really.

Fic is the only place I feel worth anything as a writer. Years of failure, and fandom is my only source of positive feelings about my own words and my own work. It's hard to lose that, especially in the wake of giving up a decade-long dream. It's HARD to lose the only thing keeping you going with a hobby, and I'll be the first to admit that I haven't been handling it well. I used fandom interaction on my fic to help fill all the pieces left exposed and smarting from failing at trad pub over and over and over. It's not a bad thing to do, really - a lot of writers suggest doing this, to help build motivation and confidence while trying to get published. But it only works when there are people there to read your fic, haha. Fandom, for me, has been contributing to my depression symptoms big time. At one point, my therapist suggested maybe I should step out of fandom and fic writing, because it was spiraling my mental health. And to have him tell me that, after our years together, really opened my eyes to how bad it had gotten for me in regards to my self-worth and self-confidence.

I got a comment on that CC fic this morning. It happens so rarely that it really caught me off-guard, but it was one of the nicest things ever, and I sat reading it thinking... okay. This is worth it, isn't it? That fic has been there for years, garnering so little attention it wouldn't have mattered if I had deleted it. I was reminded this morning that it does matter. That single comment on an obscure fandom that peaked twenty years ago and still never had many people in it, made me feel like spending my time in fandom is still something worth doing. I can't thank that reader enough for taking the time to leave it for me. If you ever think that your interaction with people's work doesn't matter, I hope this helps you feel differently. Maybe people aren't reading your fics right now, but maybe they'll find a fic you poured your heart and soul into a couple of years later.

Not sure why I am posting this LOL. I expect people will unfollow me. Sometimes, I feel like I can't talk about these things without seeming like a bitch, but y'all already know I'm a bitch anyway. 🤣 We write fic because we love it, because we adore the source material, because we have passion for the characters. But we post because we want to share and connect with people. It just feels so much like that second part has somehow gotten lost recently. Anyway. Back to your regularly scheduled Tumblr lives. 💚

#to delete later honestly lol #no one wants to read your sad poem katy

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miheartsedthings · 7 months ago

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Part Seven

NSFW ModernBilly x FemReader (Minors DNI)

Summary: Nancy isn't impressed with how you're handling your relationship with Billy, leading to a confrontation neither of you saw coming.

Warnings: Fighting, Angst, Dubious consent, pregnancy risk.

At first, you didn't notice the faces Nancy was making as you told your story. You sat across from her at lunch, so caught up in the details, adding dramatic flourish to make the whole thing as fresh for her as it was for you. The fight with Billy which had felt relationship-ending. The smashed vases and Molly Kellerman. Then, the apology. You arrived at the little slip of envelope with heartfelt joy, which is when you finally noticed her. She was staring back at you with skeptical eyes, one of her brows cocked in judgment. You shrunk, finally understanding why people called her Princess Wheeler.

“What?” You asked. She sighed.

“Well, I mean, I know you like him but…are you really gonna forgive him just like that?”

You were a little taken aback.

“I mean…I know we have a lot to work on. But he apologized and that's not easy for him.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, he apologized for one thing and then did like 50 additional things wrong.”

“It's complicated, Nancy.”

“Is it? I mean listen to the story you just told me. He was being violent and disrespectful at Amber's house, which probably cost her parents lots of money. Then he was almost inside another girl when you caught him-”

“He wasn't gonna go through with it.”

“Yeah, so he says. You put way too much faith in him when his actions are telling a whole different story.”

You couldn't help feeling hurt by this. Defensive in the face of her accusations.

“I already made it clear that his behavior has to change. He knows that. But no one gets by in life without making mistakes. Sometimes you have to be patient with people.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Is it patience, or is it being a doormat?”

Anger flared up in you.

“Take that back,” you said. “maybe I'm more forgiving than others but I'm not a doormat.”

“I will not take it back! He's hurting my friend, how am I supposed to forgive that?”

“Forget I said anything.”

You gathered your stuff and stood to leave, making her stand, too. She rushed after you as you went out into the hall.

“Y/N, you know I’m right. You’re being blinded by your feelings for him and it’s making you dumb!.”

You spun to face her, the two of you were alone in the hall now, your raising voices echoing down the empty corridor.

“If you think I’m so dumb why are you friends with me?” You asked.

“I didn’t say you’re dumb, I said he’s making you act dumb.”

“It’s crazy how little faith you have in me. Don’t you think I could tell if someone was taking advantage of me?”

“Obviously you can’t,” she spit back, “Do you know how many girls like you my mom sees at the clinic? They mess up their lives over some pathetic asshole. I never thought you’d be like one of them, but maybe you are.”

Her words stung you quiet and you fell back a step, searching her face.

“Are you serious?”

“Y/n-”

“As if your mom has room to talk.”

Something flickered through her eyes.

“Excuse you?”

“I’ve seen your mom at the pool, Nanc. Eye-fucking a seventeen year old kid whenever she gets the chance. She’s like a cat in heat, it’s gross.”

Her gaze went cold.

“Shut up.”

“Why? If she’s gonna look down at other women we might as well talk about her. Do you know what kind of shit she used to text Billy when he first moved here? Your dad would have a heartattack.”

Her eyes were burning with anger.

“As if he doesn’t toss himself around. As if he wouldn’t bang anything with legs if he wasn’t with you. Hell, he probably does it anyway.”

Your hand flew before you can stop it, making contact with Nancy’s already reddened cheek. The two of you shared a moment of stunned silence before she lashed out at you. Suddenly, the two of you were exchanging blows. A crowd quickly gathers, jeering and hollering as you two wrestle each other to the ground, slapping and clawing and then punching each other. She got a fistful of your hair as you swung blindly, making contact though you couldn’t see where.

“Hey! HEY!”

Someone’s yanking you up but the two of you clawed and kicked, desperate to inflict as much pain as possible. Then, you were pulled away, all you saw of her was a rat’s nest of brown hair and blood before you were whisked off to the principal's office. All of it was over in less than a minute.

You sat in the office with an ice pack on your fist. The side of your head was ringing with pain from where your former best friend had taken a fistful of your hair. You rolled over the fight with Nancy in your mind, amazed at the violence you'd shown each other. Two hours ago, you never could've imagined hitting her, yet you had. Then again, you never thought she'd be so judgemental. Sure, you can admit, she's not wrong to worry about Billy, but it isn't her place to force you into anything. You have your boundaries, and if the time ever came when he crossed the line, you would leave Billy. You know you would. Until then, she should understand.

“Ms. L/n,”

You looked up to see the secretary waving you into the inner office where the principal's was. On the way in, you passed Nancy and her mom. Nancy held an ice pack to her cheek and avoided your eyes. Her mother, on the other hand, glared at you. You received a week of detention and of course, they called your mom. Leaving the office you saw Billy waiting for you in the hall. His eyes went wide when he sees you, already unable to contain his mishievious smile.

“Tell me you’re not skipping class,” you said, dragging your feet to him.

“Baby, what the fuck? You and Wheeler?”

You sighed, a headache still thumping through your skull.

“Don’t even ask.”

“Don’t need to,” he says. He turned your head to one side and then the other, examining you for damage. “She couldn’t touch you.” he added with a smirk. You couldn’t help being pleased by this, but groaned and fell into his arms. He pat your back. “C’mon, you’re alright.”

You rubbed your eyes, mumbling into his chest.

“God, my mom’s gonna be pissed.”

“Come over to mine. Old man’s in Nevada on business.”

You shook your sore head.

“And piss her off more? What am I even gonna say when she asks me what happened?”

“Tell er Wheeler’s a bitch,” you can’t help chuckling.

“Stop,” you whined.

He rubbed your shoulder as the bell rang. At the same time, your phone vibrated in your pocket. Your mom was there to pick you up.

“Why? That’s what happened, right?”

You looked up at him, finally, and noticed that behind all his joking and his lighthearted smirk was a hard stone of concern.

“She’s worried, which, on Nancy, looks like being a bitch. And she said some really off the wall shit about me and about you, and when I told her the truth about her mom she didn’t take it well.”

He scoffed, pulling your tired body into a hug.

“Don’t say I never warned you.”

“You warned me,” you admitted, “But fuck.”

. . .

“So you’re the bitch who fights her friends over a boy?”

You sat watching the trees roll by the window, regretting the grind of your mom’s voice against your ears, reviving the last of your headache.

“No,” you said. You’re careful to keep your voice clear of any edge.

“No? That’s what you did, isn’t it? She told you some hard truth about that raggedy boy and you got so mad-”

“Why are you taking her side?”

“I’m not taking her side, obviously you beat her ass, now it’s time to deal with you. You think it’s cute fighting over some boy? You think that’s gonna get you somewhere in life?”

What a dumb question. You conceal your eye-roll.

“No.”

“What did she say? I wanna know what’s worth getting in a fight and jeopardizing your future.”

The car fell into an agitated silence as she waited for you to speak. You sat there leaning against the door, leg bouncing, eyes closed, praying for the thumping in your brain to stop. You saw Nancy’s face, flushed in indignation. Embarrassment crept up your throat when you remembered how excited you’d been to tell her about the little note. The tiny victory of Billy’s apology. It was a victory, but it isn’t exactly untrue that Billy’s behavior has to change. So why does it feel so shitty the way she says it?

“Not gonna tell me? Then it must be about that boy.”

Your head rung and you squeezed your eyes shut as hard as you could. When you arrived home, you made a direct line for the stairs, only to be called back by your dad who extended his hand.

“Phone,” he said. You groaned and handed it over, watching him turn it off (Thankfully. Your life would truly be in danger if they discovered your text thread with Billy) and place it on a high shelf in the pantry. You spent your evening absorbed in homework before getting ready for bed early. By then your headache had faded, and all that’s left of the fight was the lingering hurt of lost friendship. No matter how you tried to lay there without thinking, your mind scrolled back to the fun you’d had at the party. The way she’d been there for you during the pregnancy scare and spent the whole day cheering you up. A painful feeling sank into your chest at the thought that you’d never talk to her again.

Maybe you had been a bad friend to her. It wasn’t impossible to imagine. You did get selfish sometimes, and Billy took up a lot of your emotional energy. For all you knew, Nancy had been going through things herself and never felt she was able to tell you. Then, the thought flips on its side. How were you supposed to know she needed support if she never said it? You flipped over, unable to find comfort. It’s not your fault she held things in and got all full of resentment. So why do you feel like you failed?

Maybe you were being stupid about Billy…maybe a little more pliant and patient than a person ought to be. You’ve only been together a handful of months and he’s made you cry so many times. There’s plenty of reason to break up. Except that the thought of it turns your stomach.

You flipped onto your back with a sigh, staring at the darkened ceiling. Okay, so maybe you were accepting more than you should from him, but it was only to balance out all the contrary treatment he’d gotten thus far. You saw the stark lack of people in his life who loved and prioritized him. Rarely, if ever has he felt safe, and after spending years like that, especially formative years, one can’t be expected to be a perfect partner right off the bat.

You had your boundaries with his behavior, you made your feelings known, and in the best way he could, he honored them. Plus, he was getting better all the time. You were certain he’d only keep developing the skills to be a better partner and if he didn’t…you flipped onto your stomach.

If things never changed and your relationship remained in a cycle of secrecy and blame…then you’d handle it. Meaning, of course, you’d leave. The pain in your chest was re-doubled to imagine this. A lost friend, and then a lost love. And what would that make you?

Your thoughts carried on in a similar, muddled fashion for the next hour until the strain in your body finally pulled you into a dreamless sleep. Two little taps woke you up. You laid there blinking in darkness trying to register your surroundings, then it happens again. Two tiny clicks against glass. Your eyes went to the window and after a moment you realized what you were seeing. A hand tapping the glass.

You hopped up, rubbing your eyes and crossed the room quickly. When you let Billy in, he was careful to swing his legs into the room without a sound. You took his shoes and tucked them under your study table, where a towel was waiting for them. You'd come to think of it as his Welcome mat. He took you into a hug and, still groggy, you sagged against his body. He closed the window and half carried you to bed where he laid you down before shedding a couple layers. His jacket and jeans got tucked under the bed, and he crawled under the blanket with you in his boxer briefs and T-shirt.

His warmth filled in the space behind you as his body came in flush with yours. He trailed a few kisses along your neck and ear, a little sigh expressing his contentment. You made your own small sound, wiggling back to press yourself into his body.

“Couldn't sleep?”

Your voice was low, hardly rising above a whisper. Billy was holding you across the torso with one arm, while the other found your hands and laced his fingers in with yours.

“You never told me the full story.” He said. His breath was soft against your ear, rising goosebumps along your neck.

“Mmm. Nothing to tell.”

There was a stretch of quiet. In it were little gestures, the slow swipe of his thumb across your knuckles, his teeth nibbling the lobe of your ear. You knew what he was asking. Of course, he'd want to know what had driven you to fight your best friend, but you couldn't say it.

“Well, if it was nothing then you shouldn't have kicked her ass over it,” he said with a little chuckle.

Something about that struck a nerve.

“I told you she said something fucked up,” you said. He sensed the tension in your body and turned his face into your neck, as you spoke, breathing softly, his arm curling yours in so he was hugging all of you to his chest. “why do you even wanna know?”

Now, he had you all collected in his arms, and you couldn't deny how good it felt. How happy you were that he'd shown up. You turned your head until your lips are close enough to touch. He returned the kiss with that private urgency which sometimes took him over. It seems he needed something just as much as you did. He props himself up on his elbow so he could look down at you, the lamppost light outside your window offering plenty of visibility.

“I won't get mad.”

You hadn't been prepared for those gentle words. They slipped right through your defenses and pierced you. He was looking at you so sincerely. And so, quietly, you explained the upsetting back and forth from that morning. All the while he watched with intent focus, and remarkable patience. Proving your point all along. You didn't know that he'd ever been so quiet and non-defensive while hearing someone's unkind opinions about him. As you explained, your eyes took breaks from his, falling to where your fingers idly twirled a loc of blond curls.

When you finished, you found yourself exhausted, your chest aching again. Your eyes burning.

“So that's it.” You finish, “she's not my friend anymore.”

Your voice broke and he pulled you close, kissing your forehead. He said you were fine. You didn't need her, and you knew the intent was to uplift but you just felt smaller. You tried to swallow the first sob that came out, but he was so close he heard it and hugged you closer. Kissing your neck.

“Baby,” he said, softly. He wanted to say more. He wanted to kiss your ear and say baby, my little baby. Really suffocate you with the full force of his affection. But still, even with you, he was terrified of being overwhelmed by these emotions. He wanted to love and care for you from a solid place where he could remain in control of himself. If he spoke too much tonight he knew he would cry. Which he couldn't allow. Not while it was your turn to cry and his turn to comfort. So he fell quiet, and rocked you a little in his arms.

He kept you. Kissing your neck and holding you so close, and inside regret and anger needled you. You could used more words from him. Added reassurances.

“She wouldn't listen to me,” you added this useless detail, hoping it triggered extra comforting and he did amp up the tender caressing of your back. He told you she was wrong not to listen. A real friend would listen. But it all served to make you sadder, and you started to cry harder than you could contain. Nancy was your only friend in this town. The only one with whom you could talk about anything without worrying she'd get angry. At least, you thought she was. The loss was monumental and you cried shuddering sobs into Billy's shoulder.

The more you cried, the more desperately Billy wanted to calm you. Rubbing and kissing wasn't working, you were heartbroken over the loss of your friend. As much as he was battling to keep the thought at bay, he knew it was his fault. The way he was had hurt you yet again. Left you inconsolable. Something in him threatened to break apart if he couldn't fix it. A shiver invaded his body, a thin shudder under the skin of his hands as he held you, touching, rubbing, searching for the friction you needed.

Shoulders and hips, he massaged down your back and kneaded your ass. All the while you cried. Shattering him. He wanted to say he was sorry for fucking up your friendship. An urgent desire to be forgiven coiled tight in his chest, a taut rubberband threatening to snap. He made a sound, then stifled it by kissing you. His cheeks wet with your tears, his mouth swallowing your mewling sobs. His tongue tasting your salt. His hand was under your chin and you felt it as an insistence to remember that he loved you. In actuality, he couldn't risk you turning away.

You could’ve easily turned out of his kiss in disgust. Realizing that he was the problem all along. He wasn't worth the trouble. He kissed you harder, stealing your breath, and in a sudden flush of inspiration, sought to overwhelm you. If you couldn't think, you couldn't come to the truth. He rushed, not exactly gentle as his hands removed your thin t shirt and panties. His own nakedness coming so abruptly you were startled by the rush of his skin, his hardness pushed between your spreading thighs. All the while he kept you tangled in frenzied kissing.

You broke away just enough to breathe and already he was pushing into you.

“Billy.” your voice was soft and warbled and useless. He shoved his length into you, earning a strangled whimper from your chest. His hand curled around your neck in an effort to keep you quiet and still. Your hand found his chest while the other grabbed his wrist, and yet you knew there was no fighting it. There wasn’t air enough to breathe let alone speak, and truthfully, he felt good inside you. As always.

His mouth was hot and full of need and his weight rolled onto you as he buried himself fully inside. You were filled to the brink, certain if he was any bigger you couldn't handle it. A chesty groan vibrated in you, in the relative silence of the room, the slight squeaking of bedsprings. He fucked you deeply but without much speed, his skin flush to yours, and suddenly you felt like he was trying to hide all of himself within you. His whole body burrowed to your center where he could remain.

You realized then that he was feeling something he hadn't explained. His face was obscured, either in kissing you and thus too close to observe, or tucked sweetly into your neck. You pulled his hand from your throat and he rested it on your clavicle. You kissed his cheek a few times, and then his neck. You lifted your hips to meet the rutting of his. He was heavy, his hot skin forcing you to sweat, but you felt no desire to escape.

You came with his hand clamped over your mouth, legs shuddering around him while he muttered curses into the clammy skin of your neck. Your insides were slick with cum, but your head was too cloudy to worry about that. That would be tomorrow's problem. For now, you let yourself be held, and fell asleep thinking of nothing.

. . .

In the morning Billy was gone, your window cracked. You rushed to the bathroom full of anxieties. The risk of a UTI the most pressing. Luckily, emptying your bladder felt as it always did and you were free to move on to the next issue. Pregnancy. You’d need money for a pill and thought all through your morning routine about how to get it. Finally, you settled on telling your parents the school was fundraising for a children’s hospital. It’s a terrible thing to lie about, but you figured in a roundabout way it was alright. They’d think they were helping sick kids and really they were preventing unwanted grandchildren. These things were in a similar vein.

“Nancy’s giving 60,” you said to them over a quick breakfast.

“Oh? And that matters to you why? I thought you didn’t fuck with her.” Your mom said, giving you cool, scrutinizing eyes. You turned your back to retrieve orange juice.

“We’re not funding any silly feuds between you and your friends,” your dad added.

“There’s no feud,” you said, pouring yourself a glass. “I just don’t wanna be the only one giving less.”

You knew that would get them. As much as they didn’t want you to realize it, your parents compared themselves to other people. They didn’t like the idea of you doing the same. They looked at each other for a long moment, and you saw their desire to discourage this behavior butting up against their need to be on par or superior to other families in town. They gave you 70.

To be continued ~

Thanks for reading ~

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things #billy stranger things #fanfic #billy hargrove 18+#story #sea swallow me

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lovememadly92 · 5 months ago

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The Secret Admirer

Hello everyone!!! I am the secret gifter for @stfrancisprayer and I had so much fun writing this, especially since the 1980s is my favorite era, I decided to a modern take on Band of Brothers. Of course, no offense to the real-life veterans, this is only actor portrayal. I also created a playlist to go along with it. Hope you all have a wonderful weekend and enjoy!!!!!

Playlist:

May 18th, 1989- UCLA Campus, Los Angeles, CA

I listen to the Robert Palmer tape on my Walkman as I walk to my last class of the year. Thank goodness that we are done with our undergraduate studies. Now to enjoy summer with my friends and hopefully go on vacation. Well, I am just exaggerating a bit, I must find a job to pay for my schooling this coming Fall. I decided to take upon doing my master’s to be a history professor, besides I like talking anyway.

She's a craze you'd endorse

She's a powerful force

You're obliged to conform

When there's no other course

She used to look good to me

But now I find her

Simply irresistible

When I walk into my class, I turn off my Walkman and look to where I sit, I see a letter set on the desk and I smile to myself. I have been getting these letters for the whole year and I have been trying to figure out who has been sending me these letters. Rosie sits behind me and when she sees me, she perks up and smiles.

“I see you got another letter, asshole,” she chuckled, and I took my seat in front of her. “Who would admire your goofy ass?”

I chuckled to myself. “Honey, they do not call me George Luz for nothing. I got my charms, my looks. I am as handsome as Patrick Swayze himself, except for the dancing part of course.”

She rolled her eyes and was writing some notes on her binder. “Oh George, keep fucking dreaming you will be Patrick Swayze. The best I can give you is Tom Cruise and I rarely like the guy.”

Ouch, that kind of hurt.

“Anyways,” she leaned to look over my shoulder. “Are you going to open the letter or what? I want to know what it says.”

“Nope, you are going to keep writing your notes and leave me alone now. Since I am not good enough to be Patrick Swayze,” I stuck my tongue out and she flipped me off before I turned around and opened the envelope.

God if I could only figure out who fucking wrote it. Better yet typed it on a computer or typewriter. I miss how things were romantic back in the day, particularly how my grandfather would write love letters to my grandmother when he was shipped off to Europe during World War II. But I guess I am just an old soul.

I opened the letter and smiled.

My Dearest George:

I hope first that you had a wonderful year, with your family and your friends. There is not a day where I don’t think about you, wanting to feel your lips on my hot skin.. Ever since I saw you during a wrestling match back in high school, I knew that I wanted you to be mine forever. But I couldn’t find the courage to talk to you because you were always surrounded by these beautiful girls, vying for your attention. But this is the year that I have decided that I am not going to be a coward anymore. I am going to reveal myself to you at Rosie’s party this weekend around midnight. I really hope that you do not get scared or run away, but if it comes down to that, then I will accept my defeat and walk away. Sweet George, love of my life. I will be seeing you soon.

Love Always,

Your Secret Admirer.

I smile to myself and close the letter before the professor walks in. I feel a sensation and excitement, finally a year of torment of trying to figure out who it is that has been writing me these letters. However, I turn around to look at Rosie and she smiles at me while I smile at her back.

But why does it feel that I am cheating on her?

God George get out of your head, she will never pay attention to you, she is too beautiful for you.

“Okay class, let’s get ready for our exam today.”

May 20th, 1989-Beverly Hills, CA

Mother will never understand why you had to leave

But the answers you seek will never be found at home

The love that you need will never be found at home

Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away

I stand against the wall, drinking my beer as I watch Rosie sway her body along to the music with her other friend Karina. I smiled to myself because Rosie was always like that, dancing like no one was watching. Before her big transformation, she was always a quiet gal, always her nose in the books. She still has her nose in the books and volunteers at hospitals, the only thing is that she had a big transformation.

She was always beautiful though and sweet…

“Hey George, are you going to find your secret admirer?” Frank asked and I turned to look at him. Shit, I had forgotten about that, I was too entranced with the beauty dancing in front of me with her bustier crop top and her jeans, hugging her waist. Her beautiful, big brown curly hair. God those beautiful, brown eyes…

“George!”

I shook my head and took a sip of my beer. “No, yeah, I am going to go find her, it’s not midnight yet. I just, I don’t know, I feel that I am cheating on Rosie for some odd reason. You know I always had a thing for her. Still do.” Then I looked up and I saw that she had stopped dancing with Karina, and she was talking to the pretty, rich boy, Lewis.

God, I dislike him in more ways than one. He would always make fun of her and trip her when she would carry her lunch in the cafeteria. I was a popular boy myself, but my parents taught me better than being an asshole.

“Maybe it’s for the best you know,” Frank pointed out and then I sighed. “They are meant for each other, they are rich, she will never pay attention to us guys. Lieb has luck on his side, he managed to get Karina as his girlfriend.”

I watched Lieb and Karina smile and giggle at one another before heading upstairs to a bedroom and disappearing. Knowing that damn smile Lieb carries, they are not coming back down for the rest of the night. At least one of us is lucky.

Lewis then leaned into whisper in her ear and then she pulled away and threw the drink in his face. “You fucking asshole, I am not one of your damn whores for you to speak to me like that and in my house!!!!” She was about to walk away, and he pulled her close to him, shaking her like she was a rag doll.

I threw my beer on the floor and rushed to them, grabbing him by the collar and punching him in the face, knocking him down on the floor. “Don’t you ever touch her again, you hear me, pretty boy?” I was about to grab him but then I felt soft hands pull me aside and then looked at me with pleading eyes.

“Calm down George it’s okay,” she whispered, and everyone was looking at us. “Come, let’s go upstairs and clean your knuckles yeah?”

I was breathing hard and then nodded. I followed her upstairs and into the bathroom, where she sat me on the toilet. Then she took out hydrogen peroxide and some gauze pads to clean up my knuckles. Smiling, I feel her dabbing the cuts on my knuckles and watch her do her work. She is going to follow in her parents’ footsteps in being a doctor.

“You did not have to defend me, George,” she whispered softly as the music blared a bit in the background. “I could have kicked his ass too.”

“I owe you one, for not defending you when I had the chance back in high school,” I said softly and then looked at me. “I would always see from afar and never do anything about it, even though my parents taught me better.”

She sighed and then bandaged up my knuckles. “It’s okay George, you don’t have to apologize, you are not the one that did the tripping or the horrible pranks. Besides, no one takes him seriously.” I study her face and count every freckle she had dusted on her cheeks. She looks so beautiful.

“So how is the search for your secret admirer?” she asked and crossed her arms.

Oh. That.

“Um, nothing,” he said softly. “I am going to meet her tonight, let’s see how this goes. I am going to meet her in the backyard, by the pool if that is, okay?”

“Sure, no problem, just don’t do anything weird, please? I want that image out of my head when I found you screwing that airhead,” she chuckled and shook her head.

God I was so embarrassed, I was in mid action when Rosie walked in on me in my room. I felt sad when she caught me, as if I cheated on her. When I found out she wasn’t pissed about, it made me sad a bit.

“I promise, pinky promise,” I smiled softly and hooked my fingers up with hers. We then headed down back to the party, and I asked her to dance with me.

I am a man who will fight for your honor

I'll be the hero you're dreaming of

We'll live forever

Knowing together

That we did it all for the glory of love

We started swaying around the dance floor and gently she laid her head on my chest and chuckled. “You know what, I was always dreaming that I would get my dance at prom, but all I did was sit on the bleachers. Thank you for at least giving me the Cinderella moment that I always wanted.”

I smiled at her. “I may not be Patrick Swayze, but I can dance at least a little.”

“You dance better than Swayze,” she said quickly, and I smiled to myself, and we kept swaying across the dance floor until the song was over. She looked at me with her beautiful eyes, and I could see adoration, and dare I say love.

Then again that could be my love riddled brain. “Well, its midnight. I am going to go and meet her and see what happens. Wish me luck.”

She nodded and let me go. “I wish you the best of luck George. I hope that you find what you are looking for. I will be seeing you later.” I nodded and headed outside to the pool area and took out a cigarette, waiting for her to come by. All I can hear is the crickets chirping and then I hear Lieb and Karina going at it upstairs.

“God yes baby!!!!”

“You like that huh?”

“God yes!”

I chuckled and shook my head. Jesus, those two can go at it all fucking night and yet not get tired because of it. Then again, I can tell that they love each other very much, just by the way they talk, the way they interact. God, I wish I did have that with Rosie. But whoever is my secret admirer, I will give her a chance at my love.

Blowing the smoke in the air, I check my watch and it has been ten minutes and she hasn’t shown up yet. Maybe it’s a prank from fucking Frank, or maybe Muck did it, they have been teasing me about my secret admirer ever since I ever got the first letter. God, if they pranked about this shit, I am going to kick their ass so hard, they will identify them by their damn teeth.

As I was about to give up, I heard soft footsteps walking behind me and tapping on my shoulder.

I turn around to smile at the person and when I see who is in front of me, my smile drops and I feel my body tremble, and my ears turn hot. From anger.

“You?!”

Rosie’s POV

Un señuelo

Hay algo oculto en cada sensación

Ella parece sospechar

Parece descubrir

En mi debilidad

Los vestigios de una hoguera

When I walk outside and tap on his shoulder, finally revealing myself after a year of writing to him, all I see is anger, disappointment. Karina even warned me that he was going to be pissed, not the fact that I am his secret admirer, but more the fact that I fucking lied to him about my feelings for a long time.

“You are my secret admirer?!”

Tears in my eyes, I nodded, and I tried to touch him, but he backed away, starting to pace back and forth. “You got to be fucking kidding me Rosie Mendoza, after a year and yet you did not have the balls to tell me that it was you?”

“I know and I am sorry,” I cried and tried to grab his hand, but he backed away from me. “I just couldn’t tell you because I was afraid, afraid of rejection. I was always rejected in high school, made fun of. You would see how Lewis would trip me, play fucking pranks on me. I honestly thought you were the same, that is, until I officially met you in our first year at college. I never seen anyone so nice to me, so gentle like you.”

He looked away from me and I blinked at my tears. “George, I am sorry I fucking lied to you okay but that does not take the way the fact that I am in love with you.”

Slowly, he turned around, and he also had tears in his eyes. “I have been in love with you since we were little kids, and when I saw you back in high school, seeing the grown man you have become, that was it for me. I thought also transforming from an ugly duckling to a swan would get your attention.”

A sarcastic chuckle escaped his lips and then wiped his tears. “That fucking never mattered to me Rosie!!! That never did, I never cared if you were ugly or pretty. What one falls in love with is this!” He patted his chest. “Like how I am right now!!!! Madly in love with you!!!!!”

I stood quietly and then more tears started streaming down my cheeks. “You think I gave a fuck if you were hot or not? All I cared about was what was in the heart, nothing more. I thought you were sweet, caring, never once did I care if you looked like a geek or a nerd. That is one of the things I love about you! You are a smart ass, telling people how it is. But I guess I was fucking wrong, you are nothing but a fake, like to play with people’s feelings. Here I was, thinking that I was cheating on you.”

I looked down and started sobbing. “You know what, I am done, I am done with this, I am done with you. Never fucking contact, me again. You hear me? You and I are fucking done, for good.”

Nodding, he walks right past me and leaves me standing there, alone by the pool. I lost him for good, and I deserve it. I wanted this to be on good terms, since I am leaving for Columbia University for medical school.

“What happened?”

I turned around and looked at Karina who looked disheveled. “You were right, and now he does not want to do anything with me anymore. That is fine, I guess. I will leave with no attachment, so I guess that is a plus.”

Oh I, I just died in your arms tonight

It must have been something you said

I just died in your arms tonight

July 21st, 1989

It has been over a month since we had graduated and yet, he hasn’t spoken at least two words to me, and when I would walk into a room, he would leave immediately. I know what I did was wrong, and I accept it.

You're the object of my desire

Baby, ignite my fire

Object of my desire

Hey, you really turn me on

I look around the room, filled with posters of all the actors I liked, like Patrick Swayze, Rob Lowe, Tommy Howell, Ralph Macchio and Billy Zabka. I smiled to myself, and the room that saw me grow up, that saw me cry. I am going to miss my family, my friends, and everyone around me.

“Amor.” I turned around and looked at my mother. “Karina and Joe are waiting downstairs for you; they want to take you out on your last night here before you leave. We were going to take you out to dinner to your favorite Italian restaurant, but I am guessing you want to spend time with your friends before you leave.”

I nodded. “Of course, just give me a few minutes to get ready and I will head right down.”

She closed the door behind her, and I sighed. God I am going to miss everyone and everything here. I have been to New York, and everything is so different from here. Maybe that is what I need, something different.

I put on my white and pink LA Gear sneakers and headed downstairs. “There she is!!! Future doctor in the house. Now what does the lady want to do now that she is leaving the best city in the world?”

I tapped my chin, feigning confusion and I smiled. “Please take me to In N Out, there is no other good burger and I want to go to the beach.” Staying quiet for a moment, I looked at Karina and she shook her head. “He is not budging, Lieb tried talking to him, Frank did too, even Muck and Faye tried but he is so stubborn.”

A sudden pain in my chest hits me but he is stubborn, he is not going to budge.

“That is fine,” I said softly and wiped my tears. “Let’s go enjoy our last night together.”

And that is what we did. We picked up burgers, went to the beach, and blasted music in the boombox. Frank was there, along with Muck, Faye, Penkala, even Toye decided to make an appearance. But no sign of George.

Dusk turned into night, and we had the fire pit going on while the music kept playing on the boom box. Slowly, everyone started to leave, and it was just Karina, Joe, and myself, sipping beers watching the waves crash onto the shore.

“I think it’s time to head out you guys,” I said softly and yawned. “I have an early flight tomorrow and I must get the penthouse ready before orientation begins. If you guys do not mind.”

Karina had tears in her eyes and then gave me the biggest of hugs. “I am going to miss you so much bitch. But I know we will meet again. You go out there and be the best of doctors.” Tears formed in my eyes and looked at her.

“You will be something too, you will see, won’t she Joe?”

“Hell yeah, I will make sure of it.”

We hugged again and cried until we couldn’t anymore.

Hours later

As Lieb drove me home, I looked at the moon and smiled softly. One of my favorite activities that I would love doing with George was sitting on his roof and looking at the moon, talking about its shape and color. We would spend hours and hours, until one of his neighbors would be a narc and call the cops on us.

God I am going to miss him so much.

“Okay here we are,” Joe stopped the car and then Karina got out of the car and gave me a hug. “I will see you off later.”

I nodded and then I backed away as she got into the car. She waved and I waved too before Joe drove off into the night. Walking in my driveway, I reach the front door and open it with my spare key my parents gave me.

When I walk in, I find them sitting on the couch and watching Unsolved Mysteries on NBC. I tried watching it with them a couple of times, but their scenarios and the music always haunted me in my sleep.

“Hey amor, had fun?” I closed the door behind me and smiled. “Yeah, sure did.”

They noticed I was quiet and didn’t want to push it any further. “Want to watch Unsolved Mysteries with us? One more try for your old man before you are stuck in the books all year?”

I sighed and looked upstairs then looked at my father’s pouting face. “Okay, fine, I will watch it with you guys. But if I get nightmares, it’s your fault.”

That night, I stayed up until about four in the morning and did not even bother to sleep since I was leaving early in the morning. I lay in my bed and wondered sadly if I would ever see George again. I really should have been honest about my feelings for him, especially knowing now he felt about me. But me, being a scared little girl, prevented me from doing that. I guess I was the one who judged people for who they were.

The morning came as fast as the night went and I had to get ready. By the time I reached my porch, I had the whole gang, except for George, waiting to say goodbye. I hugged each one of them, telling them that they could come and visit whenever they felt like it.

Once I arrived at the airport, I waited with my dad and my mom until they called my flight. I sighed softly and stood up along with them, then gave them the biggest of hugs. “I will miss you guys very much. Please when you can, come visit me, I get lonely.”

They both chuckled and they kissed me on each side of my face. “Of course, we are going to spend Thanksgiving over there and Christmas, there is no way you can run away from us. Plus, we can watch Unsolved Mysteries together.”

I snort and then let them go. “Of course we will it’s a date.” I sighed again but this time, I had tears forming in my eyes. “I will be okay mom, dad. Don’t worry, I will be fine. I will call you as soon as I get over there. Before they have me in the books and not enough time to breath at all.”

My mother wept silently, and my father had tears forming in his eyes, which was rare, if he cried, he never really showed it. The only time I have heard him cry was when he lost a young man due to AIDS complications; the young man died holding my dad’s hand since he had no one else. It’s one of the many reasons I want to be a doctor, the compassion and the willingness to fight for others.

They let me go and I smiled softly before heading to the terminal. I looked back at them one more time and waved at them before handing over my ticket. I walk towards the entrance of the private plane, and I feel tears welling up in my eyes. But I managed to put them at bay when the stewardess led me to my seat.

“Here you are ma’am.”

“Thank you so much.”

When I am about to sit down, I notice my Walkman sitting on my chair with a note on it. Me the curious being, pick up and open the letter.

Can’t forget this Rosie, oh and look to your right.

I look to my right, and I see George, smiling, walking straight towards me. I nearly dropped my Walkman to the floor. He stood right in front of me, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days and dare I say, his eyes red.

And I know it wasn’t from the weed he would smoke.

My body, my whole being started shaking when I saw him right in front of me. “You were about to leave without saying goodbye, I thought we were better than that Rosie.”

“I know but you said you did not want to see me again, that we were done being friends,” I cried softly, and tears fell down my cheeks. “I know I should have said something about my feelings, but I was scared. I am sorry that I judged you.”

He smiled softly and then wiped my tears with his thumb. “Don’t be sorry, ever. I should have said something too.” George would look down then at me. “I guess you are really leaving huh?”

I nodded. “Orientation starts next month, and I need to prepare for the long hours.” I smile sadly and bite my lip for a moment. “Thank you for coming to say goodbye.”

A playful scowl formed on his face.

“I am not saying goodbye, I am coming with you.”

The Walkman hit the floor as soon as he said that.

“What do you mean you are coming with me?” I asked in disbelief but there was a hint of happiness in my voice.

“I got accepted into NYU to continue my studies to be a history professor. It was either stay home and continue at UCLA or NYU, I chose NYU to be with you.”

But how did he know I got accepted into Columbia? Then a smile crept onto my face, and I realized it was Karina the one who told him. I had known for months that I got accepted into Columbia but couldn’t bring myself to tell George. I saw them one time talking while I was studying in the library.

“But what about your family?” I asked softly.

He gently wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him. He would look at my lips and then into my eyes. “I guess they understand that when you love something, you got to fight for it and that is what I am doing.”

Before I could respond, he leaned his face closer to mine and captured my lips fully with his. It didn’t take long before my lips started to move gently along with his. The way his lips felt on mine, the way his hands held my waist gently, I felt a warm sensation pooling at the pit of my stomach. My heart warms with joy.

He let go of me and leaned his head against mine, smiling softly.

“I love you Rosie, always have and I always will.”

I smiled softly and brushed some of his hair off his head. “And I love you too George.”

We chuckled softly and then kissed again, but this time more passionate, with want. However, it did not last that long because we had to sit down and prepare ourselves for takeoff. We both laughed as we took our seats and put on our seatbelts.

“What about your living arrangements? Who paid for your ticket to come her…wait, were my mom and dad in on it?”

He nodded and I shook my head, smiling.

“As for living arrangements, I have been looking for some apartments and…”

I placed my finger on his lips and smiled. “No, you are staying with me and that is final.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said softly and wrapped an around my shoulder and then gently picked up my Walkman. “I made you a tape, and your parents gave me your Walkman, to surprise you. Here you are, almost leaving without me.”

I rolled my eyes playfully as the plane took off.

Whatever waited for us in New York, I was ready for it, whether it was good or bad.

All I knew, it was going to be the adventure of a lifetime.

What happened to them after this:

Both got married in 1991 and had three children, all two girls, one boy!!! George became a professor, and our Rosie became a world class surgeon just like mom and dad. They now have three grandchildren in the present time.

Songs used in story:

Simply Irresistible- Robert Palmer'

Smalltown Boy- Bronski Beat

Glory of Love- Peter Cetera

Corazon Delator- Soda Stereo

I Just Died In Your Arms- Cutting Crew

Object of My Desire- StarPoint

*Only two songs used in the story are in the playlist. The playlist is more of what represents their relationship. Hope you all enjoyed this story, thank you so much for reading!!!!! :)

#band of brothers #hbowar #hbo war #Spotify #hbowarsummer24

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 2 years ago

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[It wasn't supposed to be this long, whatever this is. Enjoy!]

Eddie has always been a tactile person, but he ramped it up after Vecna. Not only does he hug people tightly as he says goodbye, but he also plants a kiss on each cheek. So, after they all finish hanging out at Steve's house, he escorts them out the door. Eddie hugged and kissed them all, him being the last to leave because he lost one of his rings and couldn't find them. Eddie says goodbye to Steve last and hugs him tightly. He goes in for a kiss, but Steve moves his head, and their lips brush together. They pull away at the same time.

Steve: What was that?

Eddie: *panicking because he hasn't told Steve he's gay and crushing on him* Oh, that's how I kiss all my best friends. Just ask Gareth.

Steve: *clueless and happy that Eddie considers him a best friend.* That's cool. *Pecks him on the lips* You're my best friend too. See you later, Eds.

He proceeds from then on to make sure that no one else sees him say goodbye to Steve. It's easier when he's hanging out with Steve alone. He almost let it get too far one day after they hung out at his trailer. They had just wrestled, Eddie trying to stop Steve from leaving. Eddie wasn't sure how he managed that without getting really happy, but he did it. Breathless, Steve headed towards the door, pecking Eddie's lips goodbye as he did so.

Eddie: You call that a kiss?

He whirled Steve around and kissed him hard on the mouth. He didn't stop until he realized what he was doing and pulled away. Steve didn't question it, figuring it had been a while for him. It all came to when Eddie checked out a video with Robin while Steve was in the back. Dustin was helping out behind the counter, having gotten a part-time job there. Keith decided he had spent too much at Family Video and put him to work. Eddie had given them both a hug and a kiss before turning to leave. That's when Steve came out from the back.

Steve: Hey, what about me?

Eddie: *suddenly nervous* Oh, I didn't realize you were working, Stevie. Sure thing. *He tries to kiss his cheek*

Steve: *laughs* What are you doing? *Grabs his face and kisses him hard.* See you later, Eds.

Flustered, Eddie waves nervously and leaves. Steve turns to Dustin and Robin, their mouths hanging open.

Steve: What?

Robin: Why didn't you tell me you're dating Eddie? I am hurt. . .of all people. . .

Steve: *nervous laughter* I am not dating Eddie. Why would you think that?

Dustin: Ugh, maybe because, I don't know, YOU KISSED EDDIE ON THE MOUTH. Dude, you know we would be cool with that. We love you.

Steve: No, that's how Eddie kisses his best friends. I am one of his best friends. Just ask Gareth.

Dustin: I have seen Eddie say goodbye to Gareth many times since Vecna and he has, not once, KISSED HIM LIKE THAT!

Steve: 🥺 But Eddie said. . .why would. . . Does Eddie like kissing me? . . . 😳 Do I like kissing Eddie? But I like. . . Wait, am I like that thing you said? What was it? Bilingual?

Dustin: . . .Bisexual?

Steve: *snaps his fingers* Yes, that!

Dustin: ☺️ I think so, buddy.

Robin: Man, you buried yourself so deep in the closet all so Eddie wouldn't stop kissing you that you needed Dustybuns over here to pull you out? The straightest of all your kids?

Steve: . . .shut up.

Later that evening, Steve found himself knocking on Eddie's door, and when he opened it, Steve walked in without saying anything. He closed the door and pulled Eddie into a kiss, then pulled away.

Steve: . . .hello. *leans forward to whisper in his ear.* I know you don't kiss Gareth like that.

#stranger things #eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things s4 #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #i don't know what this is

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eyexella · 2 days ago

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I Hate You, Mom.

Every time I talk to my therapist, She asks, “Why do you hate your mom so much?” Why do I hate her? The words twist in my chest, A knot too tight to untangle, A grief too deep to explain.

I want to say— Because I am so tired. Tired of pretending she loves me, Tired of hoping for a change that never comes, Tired of asking for what I need, Only to hear silence in return. Tired of the words she says that cut like knives, And the love she promises, But never shows.

But the words get stuck, Choking on the weight of my truth. I ask myself— Why can’t I forgive her? What’s wrong with me? Why does forgiveness feel like betrayal? I want to let go of this anger, Let it slip through my fingers like sand, But it’s heavy— A weight I can’t carry or shake off.

It's like stepping up the stairs, But each time I take a step, I slip, And I fall. I fall and fall— Into the same pit of hurt, The same pit of longing for something I’ll never have. Every time I forgive, She does it again. The same mistakes, The same cruel words, The same empty promises, And I wonder— Will it ever be enough?

I try to rise, But the ground beneath me is broken, The stairs too steep to climb. I get tired, So tired of forgiving when nothing changes, So tired of hoping for a love that never fills the space, So tired of pretending that it doesn’t hurt. The voice in my head shouts, Your mother will never change. Run away. Save yourself.

But I’m stuck, Wrestling with guilt, Caught between the love I’m supposed to feel, And the reality of the love that’s never there. I’m stuck in this place where Her actions paint a portrait of who I am, Where her silence drowns out my voice, And every attempt to be seen Feels like I’m begging for something That will never come.

I wish I could leave— Run far away from the pain, But she’s always there, A shadow in the corners of my mind, Her words haunting me like echoes That won’t fade, That won’t let me forget. I want to be free, Free from the weight of her love, Free from the way it suffocates me, Free from the anger that pulses like a heartbeat, But every time I think I’ve escaped, I fall back into the same endless loop.

Why do I hate her? Why can’t I forgive her? It’s because every time I do, She pulls me back into this storm. The storm I thought I escaped But I’ve never really left.

And the fall? It never stops. It’s endless, And so am I.

#mom #poetry #mommy issues #original poem #poems on tumblr #my words #original post

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guywrestlingaddiction · 2 years ago

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What Turned me Gay (Not Really) - OTK Backbreaker

It took me a while to admit that erotic wrestling was my thing. In fact there was a period of time when I deluded myself into thinking I was into the athleticism *cough cough* involved in wrestling. Low and behold, one day I did have an epiphany, a wake up call of sorts, when the homo eroticism of wrestling was far too obvious to hide and that was the day I saw the Over the knee backbreaker.

What turned me gay (not really) ...

Evan Karagias v Chris Jericho - Over the Knee Backbreaker

This post, inspired by the sidelineland.com blog, takes a tongue and cheek look into "what made me gay (not really)" and I have to say, this move didn't so much turn me anything, but rather made it impossible to deny that Wrestling = Erotic.

I couldn't not show Alex Wright in this position

Arn Anderson v Marcus Bagwell Image Credit: wrestlingarsenal.net

So picture it, me, a young boy watching WCW when all of sudden I am awe struck by the sight of a wrestler in an Over the Knee (OTK) Backbreaker. To say the hold was emasculating was an understatement, and to say that the move got me excited was an overshare. Needless to say the hold itself awakened something inside of me. I recall being glued to the television set and riveted by the action taking place on screen, so much so that my brother gave me a hard time about liking the hold, a bit too much.

Brother: "That hold is weak and totally fake. Why do you keep rewinding it to watch it? I bet it doesn't even hurt."

Me: "..."

Brother: "I mean it looks dumb. And it's sooooo gay."

Me: "..." [Grabs pillow to place on my lap]

Now there are obviously many an erotic wrestling hold out there and the OTK backbreaker is not overtly sexual, so what was it about it that had such a pull on me in a youth? The crotch claw comes to mind as another erotic wrestling hold and so do many types of pins, so what's special about this?

Well, what makes the OTK backbreaker special to me is that it contains a certain exhibition, dominance, and most of all, a vanity to it. Few other holds out there can match the OTK backbreaker as a way to showcase your sexy jobber to the audience. Furthermore, it also requires an eagerness to submit to your heel as the hold demands the cooperation of the jobber in order to work. Now if that combination doesn't deserve deeper thought, then I don't know what does.

What I would've given to have access to all these OTK images way back then ... *sigh*

Cameron Matthews v Lorenzo Lowe (bgeast.com)

Travis Bennett v Taylor Reign (muscleboywrestling.com)

Jeff Clark v Flash (nrwrestling.com)

Cai Li v Champion Axel (ucwrestling.com)

Austin Cooper v Drake Marcos (bgeast.com)

The parody movie, But I'm a Cheerleader, constantly reminds the audience that homosexuality has a root and that finding that root is important - now I'm not sure I buy into any of that, but that's really not the point; For me at least, from that moment on, I simply couldn't ignore wrestling or create convincing delusions or excuses on why I really watched it.

You see, the sight of a handsome Evan Karagias bent over Chris Jericho's knee was a root of sorts. After that, there was simply no going back to my other fantasies and without a doubt the OTK backbreaker turned me gay (not really).

Evan spends a good 15-20 seconds on Chris' knee

For the original post, check out:

#gay wrestling #backbreaker

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pellelavellan · 7 months ago

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The Journals of Pelle Lavellan

14 Justinian, 9:34 Dragon

I'm scared my secret might get out. I don't know what to do. People can't find out. I'm supposed to get married to Finni in the autumn. I know that she knows my secret, but nobody else does. And for good reason too. I'd never live it down. It would be social suicide. What would my parents say? Or worse, Mallas' dad? I know he's not my dad but he really does like make sure I don't forget how much he doesn't like me.

Anyways, Faris scared me today in the woods. Jumped right out of the bushes and shouted at me so loud. I was so scared I fell over. But then he did something weird. He just like...he was just leaning over me with his hands on the grass on both sides of my head staring at me. I don't know why I thought he was going to beat me up, but I just had a bad feeling so I held my breath and waited for it.

He asked me to breathe, and cursed before telling me he wasn't going to hurt me and how jumpy I was. I guess he's right, I could stand to be a bit braver but fuck what was I supposed to think when he came out of the bushes shouting and pinning him to the ground?

He let me sit up, but he was still staring at me and I didn't know why. Because I'm a glutton for punishment I asked him why he'd even pinned me to the ground in the first place if he wasn't trying to hurt me or if there wasn't someone else hiding in the bushes waiting to do something embarrassing to me. He didn't answer me of course, he just gave me another shove and told me not to get any funny ideas.

That was the first instance I started to worry that he knew something. What funny ideas could I possibly get? Okay--a lot. I'm a teenage boy and some guy I've been crushing on just pinned me down and made direct eye contact with me. OF COURSE my mind was going all kinds of places that I would absolutely keep to myself. Faris is too old for me anyways , he's older than Nara, and she's four years older than me.

He's cute sure...and muscular, and cocky, and loud, and really good at sparring he always wins. Sure I like to watch him--for science. But I'm just looking right? What's wrong with watching? I can't believe I'm trying to justify having a crush on one of the hunters to a piece of paper right now. That's kind of weird of me, but I guess it feels like I'm talking to someone that can't answer or tell me how weird I am. Paper's a good listener, I wonder if paper ever feels a way about always being told people's deepest thoughts and just having to keep it a secret?

That doesn't really matter. Anyways, he put his hands back next to my head after he shoved and he accused me of liking him. I denied it of course. He doubled down, 'you're not a fighter Sibs, you don't have any good reason to watch me with the amount of attention that you do.' I wasn't giving in though. I told him I didn't like him, might have even told him to fuck off. What was I supposed to say? Yes, I think about you a lot and I like you a lot? I'm not that stupid.Or I didn't think so because he decided to challenge that answer.

I still can't believe this happened even writing about it, but he leaned down and kissed me, and my stupid fucking ass kissed him back. He laughed at me, not in a nice way, in that mean way people do when they've caught you in a lie and they're going to gloat about it. And he did. It was awful, like all the things that seemed so cool about him were suddenly gone and he was just mean. I don't think I've ever changed my mind about someone so fast. My face got so hot I felt someone was holding a lit match to me and passing it over my cheeks.

As if it couldn't get any worse he asked me 'Are you sure about that?' I'd really had enough of it. I had two options, wrestle him to set myself free or cry, which I was about ready to do but I'd be damned if I cried in front of him because he fucking sucked. So I pounded on his chest until he backed off and I ran home, ignored my mother when she called my name when I walked past her with the sour face I probably had on, and crawled under the covers and hid from the world.

She tried to talk to me. I told her I wasn't feeling well so she advised me to get some rest, said she was always willing to talk if I wanted to. It's been a few hours now. I didn't talk her. I didn't even really talk to Nara when she came home and asked me what was wrong as I'm sure my mum told her I was acting strange.

I haven't really talked to anyone actually all day. I only got up to make dinner for everyone and eat with them, then I went back to bed. I don't want to talk about it really. Telling people would mean I would have to explain things I'm not ready to talk about, not yet. And fuck, if I told anyone what would Faris do to me? I don't wanna think about that either.

I think I hate him. I hate him so much.

#{{ his face was like the sun }} headcanons #big cw for grooming #cw grooming #cw homophobia

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consolecadet · 1 year ago

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please note that I do not ask for advice anywhere in this post. do not send me advice I did not ask for it

Said yes to going to a queer wrestling thing in Boston in a month. Watched some wrestling videos online to see whether I needed to cancel or start making a flashback contingency plan or whatever. It was surprisingly ok.

Some observations:

Clips from a local league in Worcester were A Problem sometime last year or the year before. I find myself wondering whether 2022’s urgent threat of paraplegia was so much worse than Little Miss Chokes You For Fun that my memories of her feel comparatively less terrifying. I quit therapy and Wellbutrin between then and now, so it’s not like I was working on it with a professional.

Wrestling is so horny. Like…athletic men hitting each other until they bleed and collapse from exhaustion, but also there are pre-negotiated rules and you can tell that they’re collaborating with each other to entertain an audience? That’s just BDSM porn without visible genitals. I will take a heaping scoop, thank you. I’m mad that I’ve been opting out/unable to participate for so long. (These are the fights I watched, if you would like to share in the experience: 1. tokyvideo.com/es/video/jon-moxley-vs-will-ospreay-windy-city-riot-2022. 2. tokyvideo.com/es/video/cm-punk-vs-mjf-dog-collar-match-revolution-2022) (Yes, I did find these from Tumblr wrestling gifs I remembered going viral for seeming whumpy and gay. I assume they’re not representativeof the entire genre. I don’t think I would find Randy Savage particularly appealing.)

I have no idea how straight men are experiencing this or what they are getting out of it. I would kind of like to watch it with them to find out.

As someone whose normal, non-exaggerated facial expressions and body movements have been referred to as exaggerated or theatrical, I feel…weirdly seen.

As someone who’s used his upper body to drag himself across a floor/the bed because his legs were kinda jacked up, I also feel weirdly seen.

I really (ha) felt like I had done all the intellectual processing of the martial arts thing that I could (HA) and thought that all that was left was to decondition my responses to various physical stimuli (HA HA). I’ve already noticed a thing I hadn’t thought of before, which is “If she was constantly ignoring the rules because it amused her to torture me, why did I never do the same to her?” I spent my teens fantasizing about revenge, but it was about making her understand how much she hurt me, not about putting her in a headlock and refusing to stop when she tapped out. You could interpret this as noble, or you could interpret it as [Jenny-Holzer-BY-YOUR-RESPONSE-TO-DANGER.jpg].

I should revisit that sf short I wrote about revenge through body-sharing.

I think if the wrestlers were twelve-year-old girls I would be much more upset.

Is this…sports? Am I enjoying sports? This feels about as much like sports as the demolition derby I went to or the, uh, hot pepper eating contests I have been known to watch on YouTube. Which is not to say that it’s not sports, just that it’s not team sports.

Does this mean I would like NASCAR?????

This experience was so un-horrible that I’m very curious what else is fine now. I think watching IRL wrestling will be fine (fun?!) if the outfits are a little silly and I’m not close enough to smell the pong of sweaty shin guards.

I am only willing to go because 1. I have been in the mood to try stupid shit as long as it won't physically injure me, 2. KC is coming with me, and 3. I already wanted to become better friends with the guy who invited us and then he looked into seating accommodations for the event unprompted, which is easily one of the top five things you can do to earn my trust and respect.

#boring text posts #not ptsd #not wrestling

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tenebrius-excellium · 2 years ago

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Book 10 - How To Seize A Dragon’s Jewel Liveblog

WHAT A BOOK (so far, I’m at 2 of 5.5 hours)

Valhallarama finally makes an appearance! Although an odd one.

The Deadly Shadow clearly served as inspiration for the Zippleback, for Toothless and for the Light Fury. The bat-like behavior, the turning invisible in the clouds??? Aaaaaaaahhhh...just imagine if Toothless had been able to change color too!!

The Windwalker smells like drinking chocolate what?

“But sometimes the bravest thing a hero has to do is not fighting monsters and cheating death and witches, it is facing the consequences of his own actions.” that got me

awwww Hiccup really seems to have changed a lot. He’s growing up!

Baggybum telling Snotlout “I am ashamed to be your father” that hurts

Snotlout: “Ashamed of me? I should be ashamed of you, and you should be proud that I am a Chief! You were never a Chief, Baggy, wwere ya? You are not really Chief material!” Somehow, that response felt strong in the moment tho???

Warty McSmelly, your waistcoat is on fire XDDDD

YO. Excellinor stares at Hiccup. does she recognize him mm. DOES SHE

EGGINGARDE. MY PRECIOUS BABY. PROTECT HER AT ALL COSTS

I like Eggingarde. Why has she never been mentioned anywhere by the fandom???? I didn’t know she exists!!! She’s so cuuuuuuuute!!! Also I am unapologetically shipping her with Fishlegs??? *EDIT: they’re kids they’re kids I forgot I’m so sorry

Her bedtime horror story is a little lengthy though, isn’t it

yo, Eggingarde’s story was really grim O_O

THE HOPEFULL PUFFIN TWOOOOOOOOOOOO

“We may be slaves, but we can still be the best slaves we can be” this book is DRIPPING with the good lines...!!!!

“And then something unexpected happened. Gobber the Belch stepped forward, calmly wrestled Snotlout’s whip from him, broke it in half, and gave it back to him.” LOL

STOICK IS CHIEF AGAIN YASSSSS

GOBBER FLIPS SNOTLOUT’S YOT OVER HAHAHAHAHA

“.....and now I’m going to break it some more” Gobber is SUCH A BADASS

GOBBER EDUCATING SNOTLOUT ON THE CONSEQUENCES OF HIS ACTIONS REGARDING CHIEFTAINSHIP IS EVERYTHING THAT’S THE BEST LESSON I’VE HEARD IN A WHILE DUDE

I’m sorry I don’t know how to spell ‘yot’

I love how Cressida constantly mentions the presence or absence of birds in her storytelling. That detail seems to be important to her whenever she’s being descriptive. Having been to Scotland before, they’re certainly a prominent part of the landscape. I vividly remember almost getting a hole pecked in my skull by a raging mad seabird once because I was walking too close to its nest - the critter did not hesitate to go right for my head with its beak!! Also, I feel like there really isn’t much other wildlife apart from sheep and the ugliest sea stars you’ve ever seen. So, ya. Birds. They’re a thing.

Ohmygosh Stoick gives Hiccup that Great Hall talk he had with Gobber about doing what you’re told instead of questioning everything. Hnnnnghhhh that’s awesome. I love the dynamic of that talk to this day.

“I just did what I was told, I followed the traditions, I stuck to the Barbaric code!” I respect this generational thing actually. Because it’s real. It’s a real problem too. And I’d genuinely give money to find out where this attitude came from. Like, what made Stoick’s generation - the generation of our parents - behave and believe like they do.

I had this part on repeat for like 3 times because it was so good

look tbh the swordfight against Stoick and the Test Drive sequence from Book 9 still haunt me...

“...the old order broken, all because of my son Hiccup and his questions.” Silence. “Can you blame me for being angry with my son?” Gosh the shame. The blame of being Httyd1′s Hiccup. I feel it all over again and it’s glorious.

“And yet...was he actually brave to ask this question? Was he right to ask this question? Was it even a question worth losing a world for? So, the answer to your question, McJelly, is yes. I am the father of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. I am hoping against hope that somewhere out there he is safe and well, and I am proud to be his father. Even though I don’t always agree with his questions, and I do not yet know whether they were worth the loss of the world I loved.” WOW. Best stuff Stoick ever said. Also the “I’m proud to call you my son” moment from the movie. Auuuuuughhhhh.

The pessimism and hopelessness and the spite with which Hiccup is continuing to live nevertheless is sorta catching on. It hasn’t paid off yet. That’s disturbing, because it’s getting old. There needs to be a final win. Soon.

Anyway, that’s it from me so far!

#will make new posts for the next parts because this is already very long #reddie's liveblog #how to seize a dragon's jewel #I'm TWO HOURS IN and they haven't found the jewel yet #WHAT is going on #this book is 5.5 hours long!#wherethekiteflies #httyd books #httyd books fandom #I could use some reactions to this - feel free to interact!

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