#we can never go back ! time is moving forward ! so many years have passed !

[ickypuppi3]

nostalgia will hit you like a freight train and you just have to carry on like nothing’s happening

[lovingmattysposts]

still need a Matt story based off Eastside by halsey 🙏💯💯

Eastside

P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P17

pairing: y/n and matt sturniolo

summary: growing up in the outskirts og Boston wasn't really pretty. Life wasn't that great for most people, most people. You had Matt and no one fucked with you when Matt was standing by your side. The chief's daughter and the bad boy deliquent. A perfect love story?

warnings: angstttt af, fight with parents, making out

im super excited about this series if this does good. i love you all here is the start to eastside....

xoxo autumn

“Do you ever thinking about what we could have been?”

Matt looked down at me, peering over me blocking the only light, which was the moon, that cascaded over my features.

“Hm?” He tilted his head as he moved hair out of my face. I sighed turning my head to catch his blue eyes.

“Like if nothing ever happened. We never met like we did, our parents didn’t suck, and we didn’t live here?” I asked swallowing waiting for his answer. His finger halted against my forehead as I spoke.

“Yeah” he breathed, I closed my eyes letting the cold air pass over me. “But I don’t want it” he said making me blink up at him. I licked my lips as I sat up.

“Matt” I said shaking my head at him. “I’m serious” he said making me look over at him. “Yeah it sucks most of the time, I’m not oblivious” he sighed. I looked down, feeling tears brim to my eyes. He put his finger under my chin.

“But” he smiled at me, as I let out a shaky breath. “With everything that’s happened, it brought me to you. And there being a reality without you in it doesn’t seem like something worth thinking about” he sighed. I smiled and wiped my eyes.

“Don’t cry baby” he whispered as he kissed my cheeks that were wet with tears. “I just never want to lose you” I whispered feeling a lump in my throat. He shook his head.

“I’m not going anywhere, you’d have to push me away” he whispered smiling. I smiled as I looked at him. He leaned forward before connecting our lips.

It was weird to think that Matt was my first kiss, so many years ago. Under the playground at recess in the sixth grade. He pulled me under before kissing me so fast I didn’t even know what happened before he ran away again.

I guess that’s when I fell in love with him. Or least I knew that I loved him.

I smiled at the memory before pressing my hands to his face pulling him closer to me before he crawled over me. He laid me down gently before putting his hand next to my head as he kissed me.

“Ow, Fuck” he said lifting up his head and bringing up his hand to his face. “What? What?” I asked frantically grabbing his head. He laughed and shook his head.

“It was a rock” he smiled. I smiled up at him, moving my hands through his hair. “Is it not uncomfortable laying on gravel?” He asked looking down at me.

“Do you want me to talk about the rocks digging knives into my back or do you want to kiss me?” I asked tracing his jaw with my finger. He smiled.

“I like the second option” he mumbled leaning down and kissing me again harder. I breathed against him as I wrapped my arms around his neck trying to pull him closer to me.

He leaned down kissing my neck roughly. “I love you” he mumbled against my neck. “I know” I breathed. He lifted his head rolling his eyes before connecting our lips biting down harshly. I hummed against his lips as his hands trailed down my body.

“Hey!”

We both disconnected our lips and turned our heads to noticed the bright light now shining in our faces. Fuck. I looked up at Matt he jumped off of me before pulling me up by arm.

“Run” he breathed before pulling me as we sprinted back over the train tracks.

-

“Trespassing, obstruction of property-“ my dad laid out the possible charges. I rolled my eyes and leaned back against the chair.

“Obstruction of property? Seriously?” I asked unimpressed raising my eyebrows. He glared down at me. ��It was private property, y/n. They can call that charge on anything if they chose too” he said slamming the papers down.

I guess it didn’t help that my dad was the chief of the local police station, so even thought Matt and I escaped what we had thought successfully, the cop still recognized me.

A simple call and throw in “The chief’s daughter” and now I am grade-A fucked.

“Well they didn’t so” I mumbled. He snapped at me making me look up. “Don’t. Give me attitude” he said looking down at me.

I bit my lip shaking my head.

“What did I tell you about going down to that old train track?” He asked crossing his arms over his chest. I shrugged and looked away. “I could have that boy arrested y/n” he said making me look up at him.

“I don’t like you over on the Eastside of town, I can’t protect you across those lines, and you know that.” he said tapping his foot.

“You don’t even know him” I said standing up glaring at him. “I know enough” he spat harshly. I glared at him my face turning red from anger.

“You don’t try to know him” I mumbled looking down. He walked up to me angrily. “I know that he just want to get into you pants, that’s all those sturniolo boy’s are good for” he said making me look up at him. I shook my head feeling tears weld in my eyes.

“That’s not true. I love him” I said through gritted teeth looking at him. He scoffed shaking his head, stepping back. “He’s nothing but trouble and he’s dragging you down with him” he shook his head like I was a disobedient child, which I guess I was.

“That’s not true!” I yelled at him making him turn back to me. “Who’s idea was it to go to the tracks?” He asked putting his hands on his hips. I bit my lip and looked down. Matt’s.

“Exactly” he breathed. I just glared at the ground. “Sergeant Huro said they you two were on top of each other when he saw you” he pointed at me. I didn’t look up at him.

“You’re 17 y/n” he sighed. “You don’t need to get attached to boys like that Sturniolo” he shook his head. “His name is Matt” I mumbled. “What?” He sighed.

“His name—“ I said looking up at him. “Is Matt.” I spat angrily. He clenched his jaw. “I don’t care what his goddamn name is. I could have him booked for felonies and his record isn’t necessary clean.” He said narrowing his eyes at me.

I shook my head. I knew what he was talking about. He beat up some jackass kid last year after he spread rumors about me giving him head behind the bleachers.

Matt shut him up.

Unfortunately they pressed charges.

“You can’t see him anymore” he said quietly. My head snapped up. “What?” I asked my heart dropping. He sighed looking down at me. “You heard me. You can’t see that boy anymore.” He said looking down at me. I shook my head feeling the tears brim at my eyes.

“No” I shook my head backing up. “No, You can’t do that. H-He’s my boyfriend” I choked as my vision became blurry due to the tears. He nodded. “I can, and I have eye’s everywhere to make sure that it’s stays that way” he said nodding. I looked down shaking my head feeling the world crumble at my feet.

“I promise I won’t do anything like this again—just please” I pleaded with him. He just looked at me. “I know you won’t” he breathed. I just looked at him.

“And this is how I’ll make sure of it. Now give me your phone you’re grounded too” he said holding out his hand. My mouth fell open. “Dad” I breathed my heart breaking.

“Now” he said stepping closer to me. I swallowed before reaching into my pocket and throwing my phone against the ground and storming away.

“Y/n!” He yelled after me but I ran up the steps before slamming the door to my room and let the tears stream down my face.

-

I heard a knock at my door. I sat up before checking the time.

2:45am

My furrowed my eyebrows and rubbed my eyes that we’re adjusting to being awake. Why was my dad knocking at the door at nearly 3am? I lifted the sheets before hearing another knock, but I paused.

That didn’t sound like it was coming from my door. I turned to look at the window. I stood up before walking quickly over to the window pushing the curtains.

A smiling blue eyed boy looked back at me. I sighed smiling shaking my head.

“Open the window it’s f-fucking cold” he laughed through the window. I shook my head as I lifted the window open. He sighed as he crawled in stepping into my room.

“Real 1980’s shit I must say Matthew” I laughed quietly. He smiled kicking off his shoes before walking up to me and pressing his hand against my face.

“Yeah well you haven’t answered your phone in 24 hours so I had to take measures into my own hands” he breathed before pressing his cold lips to mine. I smiled as he wrapped his arms tightly around my waist kissing me.

I pulled back. "My dad took my phone, said i was grounded" I said looking at him. He rolled his eyes before letting me go. "He's joking right?" he chuckled throwing his keys on my bed. I shrugged looking down. He sighed walking back up to me.

"Hey, what's up?" He said picking my chin up. I sighed as I looked at him. "He told me I couldn't see you anymore" I mumbled looking down. His hand froze against my face.

"What?" He whispered. I looked up at him, feeling the sickness come up again at the thought of it. I shook my head as the tears came again. He sighed wrapping his arms around me pulling me into his chest.

"Hey, hey. It's okay don't cry please, don't cry" He hummed against the top of my head. I sighed letting out what felt like the first breath since that fight with my dad.

"Here" He whispered letting me go before scooping me up off my feet and walking over to my bed and lifting the sheets and laying me under them. I scooted over before lifting the covers before he slid into them and wrapped his arms around me again. He kissed my forehead.

"Do your brothers know you're like this?" I asked closing my eyes. "No one sees this side of me except for you” he smiled against me. I chuckled grabbing his hand and moving my fingers over his calloused palms.

It was nice to know that how Matt acting with me was special. Towards everyone else he was a delinquent, a hard ass with a bad attitude, but when it came to me he had the eyes of a puppy.

I moved my hands over his knuckles that were bruised. He sighed moving his hand away when my fingers ran over them. I looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“What happened?” I asked looking at him as he avoided my eyes. He shrugged. That’s when I noticed the cut on his lip. I lifted my face and pressed my hands against his face as I examined his face.

“Matt” I breathed. He moved his head out of my touch. I sat up and looked down at him. “I just got into it with some guys, it’s not a big deal” he said softly. I sighed.

“It is a big deal, if my dad sees you get into anymore trouble I’ll never be allowed to see you again” I sighed. He smirked. “I thought you weren’t allowed to see me again anyways” he hummed. I rolled my eyes as he lifted his head and kissed me softly.

I pulled back.

“Stop distracting me” I smiled. “No” he hummed kissing me again and rolling over on top of me, gripping my hips. My hands trailed up his shirt scratching his chest. He body reacting under my hands. I smiled against him. I continued to move my hands before he flinched away from me disconnecting our lips with a wince.

I looked up at him as he turned away from me. I leaned up pushing his shirt up and he sighed but his lip.

There were two large prominent bruises on his sides. “Matt” I said grazing over one with my thumb. He pushed my hands away and pulled his shirt back down.

“It’s fine y/n” he said climbing off of me. I looked up at him my heart clenching. “No it’s not fine Matt, who did this to you?” I breathed shaking my head. He just looked down.

“It’s not for you to worry about Chris and I have it handled” he mumbled looking up at me. I shook my head. “It is for me to worry about, I’m your girlfriend” I said trying to lift his shirt up again but he pushed my hands away and sat up.

“Stop okay?” He said looking at me. I sighed and looked down at my lap. He sighed pulling me over to straddle his waist. I sighed running my hands down his chest as he looked up at me.

“You know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me right?” He said looking up at me. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. He sat up slightly running his hands up my sides.

“I’m serious” he said with a straight face. I hummed and shook my head. “You’re kind and also badass. You keep me in line and I love you” he whispered making my cheeks flare up.

“Do you remember when you kissed me for the first time?” I asked. He nodded. “Of course I do” he whispered back. I smiled and trailed my finger down his tattooed arm.

“When we were still little and innocent and believed in Santa and shit” I laughed. He chuckled. “No, you believed in Santa” he corrected me. I pushed his chest shaking my head.

“Until that kid spoiled it for me” I sighed. Matt shrugged. “Yeah and the next day he was throwing up in class” Matt said making me look up at him. He smiled. I pushed his chest. He pressed his hand against his chest.

“Babe stop” he chuckled rubbing his chest. “What did you do to that poor little kid?” I asked. He smiled and shook his head. “I had an expired milk in my locker I was waiting to use it” he smiled. I shook my head leaning down and wrapping my arms around him, laying against him as his hands wrapped around my back as I laid fully against him.

He sighed as he hugged me loosely. “My dad said you’re no good” I said quietly against him. He hummed. “Maybe you should listen to him” he said squeezing my sides, making me squirm.

“You may fool everyone else Sturniolo, but you’ve never fooled me. You’ve got a heart of gold” I said rubbing my nose into his chest. He chuckled.

“Sturniolo?” He asked looking down at me. I shrugged. “It’s what my dad called you” I said as I closed my eyes. He hummed.

“Heart of gold is dramatic. A soft spot for you seems more realistic” he sighed as he rubbed small circles in my back. I sighed melting into his touch.

“Speaking of my dad” I said glancing up at the clock.

3:31am

“He gets up for work an hour, you have to go” I sighed sitting up. He pulled me back down. “I had a hard day give me a few more minutes” he said wrapping his arms tighter around me. I laughed and leaned up kissing his jaw.

“I love you” I whispered. He looked down at me. “I know you do” he said back making me scoff. He laughed as I pushed him.

“Seriously I can’t piss off my dad anymore” I said looking at him. “The chiefs daughter and the havoc reeking eastside delinquent” he smirked. I shook my head rolling my eyes. “The perfect love story” he smiled pecking my lips. “No one would read our love story” I whispered back. He just smiled at me as he rubbing his thumb on my cheek.

“I would” he smiled.

He just looked down at me before dipping his head into my neck, kissing his softly. I sighed putting my hand on the back of his neck as he kissed the base of my throat.

“Matt” I said making him hum and bite down. He squeezed my hips tightly as he kissed hard on my sweet spot. “Matt, you-“ I sighed leaning my head back giving him more access. He rolled over me as he pinned me down.

“No you were saying I have to what?” He smirked as he lifted my shirt slightly. I wrapped my legs around his back.

That’s when I heard my dogs start to bark. Matt lifted his head. My eyes went wide as he pushed off of me. He leaned down pecking my lips before jumping off of me.

“Wait” I said as he walked towards the window. He stopped turning around. “Are you going to school Monday” I asked sitting up. He shrugged. “Maybe” he hummed. I tilted my head and pursed my lips.

“If you’re there” he said as he opened the window. “Wait” I sighed standing up as he climbed through the window. I smiled as I pulled him by his shirt and pressed my lips against his. He smiled before I pulled back. He frowned pulling me back by my waist kissing me again.

“Matt, go” I breathed pulling back. He smiled before looking down. “Wait fuck, I got this for you” he said reaching in his pocket and pulled out a flip phone handing it to me.

I took and it looked at him.

“1980s again” I shook my head. “Actually flip phones were the 2000s but nice try” he smiled. I rolled my eyes. I looked down at it before seeing only one number logged in it.

“It only has one number” I stated looking at him. “The only one you need” he winked before climbing fully out the window. I stuck my head through looking down at him.

“I hate you” I whispered.

“You love me” he said as he jumped onto the ground. I shook my head shutting the window.

tell me ur thoughts like always love ya

tag list: @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @miastromboli @secret-sturniolo @sturnsclutter @sturniolodreamz @paper-crab @chrisolivia4l @mwah0mwah @recklesssturniolo @ejswift @kitaysworld @meg-sturniolo @nickmillersn1gf @fr3shl0ve @adrianaturnedpretty @oversturn @ghostgurlswrld @flowerxbunnie @ilytrinsworld @lustfulslxt @kiarastromboli @gemofthenight @blahbel668

[ascesabo]

sometimes i want to reach through the screen and shake sabo by the shoulders because. god. there's just so much going on with him.

he's first introduced through the veil of luffy's memories- here he's just another feral jungle kid, sticking it out with ace and luffy, the 'nicer' brother in young luffy's eyes. and then boom. you find out he's a runaway noble trying to escape his abusive, neglectful family- and this changes nothing, they still get to become sworn brothers, but just as quickly as this is resolved, his asshole of a dad takes the three of them hostage. and what does sabo do? he gives up the little sliver of freedom he'd fought for, is willing to become miserable and lonely again if it means ace and luffy are spared. and then he comes home to find that in his absence, his parents have already found a replacement! great!

and he doesn't even get to address how fucked up that is, because stelly runs his mouth and now sabo's too busy trying to figure out how to stop his brothers and their home from getting burnt to the ground. he never gets to give them a proper goodbye- he exhausts himself trying to reach them, but he can't because. you know. he's ten. so where does this leave sabo? ten years old, with nowhere to go- he sets out to sea to try and start over, and for the crime of wanting to escape a terrible life, he's punished with an explosion to the face. he loses his memories, his brothers lose him- and so the cycle continues.

then the army saves him, takes him in; he's essentially a child soldier, with how prodigious of a fighter he is from the get-go. but hey, he thinks he's finally found his footing, even if his past's a blur to him- then it all comes flooding back. in the worst way possible. he sees his brother's corpse and he remembers, but it doesn't matter, does it? he's too late, ace is gone, and sabo's lost ten years of a life he could have shared with his brothers. we don't even know how (if, even) he recovers from this- except for a single passing statement from koala, asking him if he's 'had that dream again' because he'd been crying in his sleep. this is never brought up or addressed again. great!plus, we never do find out if getting blown up at the ripe old age of ten could have left any lasting fire-related trauma; and if it does, what does that mean for sabo, who's pretty much made of it, now?

both of these questions are answered at once- sabo treats the fire as if it's ace. it's ace's legacy he's carrying on, and it's ace he seeks freedom for. he copes by making sure ace lives on in his flames, and how can he ever hate the fire living in him if that fire is all he has left of the brother he never got to see again?

i just have to wonder about him, because he's got so many Issues that just. don't ever get addressed? every time we see him deal with his grief (episode of sabo, his own retelling of events in dressrosa) we never really discover anything about him. i wonder how it felt to finally remember the childhood that eluded him, just to find out he was an unwanted, replacable child. how he feels, living with the knowledge that he could have done something to save ace, that he'd failed to remember the two people he loved the most? i wonder just how terribly that guilt must weigh down on him- because where luffy's already begun to heal, sabo still sees ace in everything he does. his title of flame emperor is a direct callback to ace's final attack in his fight against blackbeard. he talks to his goddamn fire like his brother is still in front of him, which is sweet and heartbreaking and, considering his backlog of unaddressed trauma... incredibly unhealthy. i know these will probably be left unresolved for the sake of moving the story forward- but god, sabo, are you okay?

[evera-era]

heal me. (pt 2)

ellie williams x fem!reader, pt one here

warnings: fluff, slight angst, mentions of illness, implied suggestiveness, ellie nurses reader back to health, even more fluff

a/n: eeeee yall i redid this chapter so many times but i think i’m finally happy with it. part 3 will be the last one!

Ellie had found herself much more aware of your existence. It’s been a few weeks since your last conversation, and now, her eyes searched for you almost everywhere she went.

Sometimes she would linger on the streets of Jackson — walking home almost agonizingly slow — for a chance to run into you. If she was lucky, she would find you tending to a crying child, or helping someone cross the street. And if you noticed her, too, you’d exchange a small wave.

She was a little embarrassed about it. She told herself that it’s because she has time to pass, and nothing really to rush home to. But she’s never done this before, and deep down she knows the truth.

It was the sound of your voice that surprised her as she was returning from patrol one day.

“Ellie!”

She quickly turned her head, blinking two or three times before realizing that you were really in front of her.

“Oh, hey.” She says, her eyes illuminating at the sight of you. “How— How are you?”

“I’m good.” You eyed her torso for a moment. “What about you? How are you holding up?”

“I, uh, just got back from patrol. Dropped my horse off.” She explains. “Oh, and um… the cut is almost done healing.”

“That’s great,” You beamed. God, even your smile was alluring.

A sharp wind blows across Ellie’s face, and yours. It tousles your hair that you had so obviously tried to brush down. She can’t explain why, but she thinks you look better this way.

A few people passed by as you stood several feet apart, fidgeting shyly. “I figured it was all good when you didn’t come back to see me.” You added, looking down at the ground.

Shit, She thinks. “Damn, wait, I’m sorry—“

“It’s okay—“

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, I did, I just…” She scratches her head. “Wasn’t sure if it was right of me to go, like, during business hours.”

You found it intriguing how seriously Ellie had taken the matter. And then you think of something funny in your head, and catch yourself laughing a bit. Ellie watches intently.

“So… you’re trying to visit me after hours?” You joke lightheartedly. “Wow. We’re moving fast already.”

“What?” She asks hesitantly. “Fuck, that was weird, wasn’t it? That’s not what I meant—“

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” You say quickly, taking in the way she looks when she blushes. It was cute. “Don’t worry about it, really.”

Ellie scoffs, taking a moment to catch her breath. Her heart had stopped for a second there.

“But…” You begin, and Ellie perks up. “I’m a pretty cool person outside of med clinic, so we could always hang out when I’m off. And I don’t look… shitty.”

Pfft, Ellie thinks. If this is you looking shitty, then shitty looks great on you.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” She says quietly. “Uh, are you normally, like, busy, or…”

“No, not really.” You reply. “Most days I’m out of the clinic by dinnertime.”

“Oh.”

The conversation goes quiet again. You were worried; you didn’t want it to seem like an empty promise. So you look off to the side before mustering up the courage to ask.

“How about tomorrow?” You question. “We can meet back up here. If you’re not doing anything.”

She raises her eyebrows. Truthfully, she’s surprised that you asked. It would have taken her a thousand years just to man up and do it. Typical Ellie fashion.

“T-Tomorrow?” She asks.

“Yup. Sound good?”

Damn, you were cool. Ellie looks down, smiles, then nods. Her ears were becoming hot again.

“Okay, cool.” You backed away for a moment before grinning. You break into a slight jog, and she looks back up again. She can see your hand shooting into the air to wave at her.

“I look forward to our date!” You yell during your departure.

Ellie nearly passes out.

—

The next day, Ellie had gone back to the same spot as you said, promptly around dinnertime. But you were nowhere to be found.

Nor were you there the day after that, or the day after that.

At first she was confused. And then she became frustrated — no, annoyed. Why would you act so nice if you were just gonna leave her high and dry?

It’s not until a few days later, when she passes by a group of women on the street, that she discovers why.

“Have you heard about the new girl? The medic?” One of the women asks.

“Yes! I’ve heard she’s great,” The other chimes in. “But she’s been out sick. Stomach bug, they say.”

“Really?” The other replies. “Oh, I hope she gets better soon. The clinic is gonna struggle without her.”

Ellie immediately felt like shit. Here she was, writing herself off from ever looking your way again. And meanwhile, you were stuck at home, not at all by choice.

She had decided if you couldn’t show up to the date, then the date would just have to come to you.

So she spends all afternoon preparing a warm meal for you. She wraps it up carefully, and takes one of her favorite books. She tucks her journal in her backpack, too.

It takes her a while to find your house. It required a bit of asking around, especially considering how you joined the community not too long ago. But Ellie is persistent, and she eventually finds out where you live.

You stayed in a shed that was visibly transformed into a studio apartment. You had planted some daylily bunches along the short walkway leading to your door. A small gesture, but it brought life to your humble new home.

Underneath laid a coir mat. A small hanging plant hung near your porch light.

Ellie swallows softly before knocking three times. Her calloused hands cradle around the round container as she anticipates your answer.

But you don’t. And her heart drops again, as she places another sequence of knocks on your door. She feels uneasy — what if something happened to you?

Her thoughts come to a halt, though, when the door handle jiggles and you sleepily open up.

Ellie breathes a sigh of relief.

“E-Ellie?” You rubbed at your eyes. “Oh my god, what are you doing here?”

“I…” She clears her throat. “I heard you were sick. You okay?”

“Yeah, I was just about to go back to work tomorrow.” You sighed. “God, Ellie, I’m so sorry. We were supposed to hang out that day, and—“

“It’s fine,” She says quietly.

“I spent all day cleaning, and researching... trying to get back on my feet.” You look down at the bowl in her hands. “What’s that?”

“Oh, uh… it’s bean soup. Made it myself.” She grimaces. “It might not be that good, now that I think about it. I don’t cook often.”

You smile warmly, tugging at the hem of your oversized sweater.

“Thank you… that’s really sweet of you.”

She holds the container out, and you receive it with gentle hands. She shuffles her feet.

“I, uh…” She pulls at her backpack strap. “I brought something else for you, too, if that’s alright.”

“Of course!” You motion for her to come in. “Here, set it down inside.”

You turn, tucking your hair behind your ears as Ellie makes her way in. She closes the door behind her, examining the setup.

Some of your belongings were still in boxes, in the corners of the room. Most of it was unpacked — necessities, anyway.

You had accumulated a stack of medical textbooks during your initial supply run. You also had tons of rags, which she assumes is used to make bandages when you’re at work.

As for your decorations, she finds them intriguing. The rugs and posters you had up on the wall reflected your aura quite well.

“I’m sorry about the mess.” You added, taking the lid off of the soup. “I’ve still been trying to get settled.”

“You’re good,” She smiles. “I like it so far.”

You gleam back at her before beginning to sip on some of the broth. Her eyes widen as she slings her backpack off of her shoulder.

“Oh, right.” Her hand slides into her bag, and emerges with a thin comic book. “Have you ever seen this before?”

You shake your head.

“Savage Starlight.” She pinches the spine with her fingertips. “It’s… a pretty good comic book series.”

“You have more?” You ask.

“I have the whole collection,” She replies. “Back at my place. I’m kind of obsessed.”

You took another spoonful of soup, looking down into the bowl. “That’s really cool… I don’t think I’ve seen a comic book in ages.”

Ellie knew it was probably a dumb move. She had spent years collecting this entire series, and here she was, opening up about it to a stranger. But she wanted to trust you — she wanted to get to know you — and she couldn’t accomplish that without being a little vulnerable herself.

Ellie looks up for a moment, then sets the comic book down on the dining table. You raise your gaze.

“You can read it, if you want.”

“What?” You scrunch your brows. “No way. I mean, that’s part of your collection, right?”

“Yeah, but… you can just bring it back.” She shrugs. “No biggie.”

Truthfully, it was a biggie. Hauling it to your house was an ever conscious decision. But she’s also hoping it would give you an excuse to come see her from now on. If you liked the book, that is.

You sighed and waited a few seconds before looking up at Ellie.

“Let’s do a redo.” You blurt out.

“W-What?”

“Our date.” You clarify. “I wanna do a redo of our date.”

Ellie ponders, staring at you intently.

“It was supposed to be nice, and then I got sick, and I ruined it—“

“It’s fine, I swear—“

“And I just… I feel bad that you’re even here.” You look up at her. “I’m supposed to— to be the medic, yet you’re here taking care of me. We barely even met.”

Ellie looks down at her feet, kicking at the ground. And then, ever so softly, she mumbles:

“I like this.”

The air is still, and you can feel your heart swell in your chest. Just a little bit.

“I liked… coming here, and seeing that you’re okay. Even if it’s just for a day. ‘Cause nobody thinks about how, after everything you do, that you might need some help too. You know?”

She fixates her green eyes on you before resuming. “So just… please don’t say shit like that. Okay? I wanna get to know you.”

You didn’t know what to say, or how to respond. Even if you did, you probably couldn’t. Your heart was fluttering too fast in your chest.

“Shit… It’s getting dark,” She says after a moment. “I might start heading back.”

You nodded, rising from the dining table. You steadied yourself as she began heading for the door.

Ellie’s hand reaches for the handle, but then she pauses, and turns to face you.

“When you feel better.”

Your voice was softer than ever. It was your turn to be confused. “What?”

“Our date,” Ellie comments. “When you feel better, we’ll redo our date. You can come over to my place, and I’ll show you the rest of the collection there. Okay?”

You smiled.

“Okay.”

[merakiui]

time loop angst where floyd is destined to live the same day over and over with you, and he can't understand why that is. it's such an unremarkable day, too. just the two of you living life. it was fun the first few times, but now he's lost count of how many days have been lived in repetition and it's so boring. the only thing that makes it bearable is his little shrimpy. he's happy you're here with him, stuck in this insufferable time loop, otherwise he's sure he'd have gone insane from the repetition.

it isn't until floyd realizes that, outside of the loop, you're gone. you've been gone for years, and you're never coming back.

suddenly, the happy days aren't so pleasant. suddenly, he's forced to confront the very thing he's been avoiding.

the loop will end once floyd finally accepts it and moves on, intending to heal. he's been so stuck in his own head, unable to let go of the ghost of you, that he's put himself in this loop.

the worst part of it is that you don't know anything. the shrimpy he wakes up to every morning is so very tangible. you smile, you kiss him, you hug him. your heart is beating in your chest. you're breathing, alive in his arms like everything's okay.

floyd knows it's not right to stay in the loop, even though he desperately wants to. it'll only hurt him more, but goodness does it feel wonderful to embrace you after years apart. half of him doesn't want to move on. it's difficult to get out of bed when he's grieving. it's difficult to find the motivation to breathe and eat and do everything that often came normal to him before your passing. he has to try.

even when he feels stagnant, crushed and heartbroken, the world is always continuing in its usual current.

he has to try. it's all he can do. move forward and try even when it's a challenge.

the next time floyd wakes his bed is empty. he sits up in a dark room, the curtains closed to block out the sun. someone's been ringing his doorbell for what's felt like hours. he peers around the room. you're not here.

the loops's been broken.

floyd drags himself out of bed. the floor is covered in clutter: trash and dirty laundry and crumbs. he should clean that. you used to gently nag him when things got too messy, and he'd always listen. he's not sure how many days or weeks or months he's lived in the same t-shirt and sweatpants, so it's refreshing when he finally strips them off and showers. he doesn't think much. he moves on autopilot. the water feels nice.

the doorbell keeps ringing. floyd, simmering in his irritation, throws it open, ready to deliver a hard punch to whoever's stupid enough to stick around and bother him on this unremarkable monday morning.

jade stands on the other side of the door, holding a bag from the local bakery and a container of what looks to be homemade takoyaki. azul is just a few inches behind, fidgeting awkwardly on his feet. he's clutching a bouquet. it's a happy one, unlike the many mourning arrangements that were sent by friends and family in the wake of your passing.

floyd blinks at them, confused. "what's up?"

they stare back, owlish. azul clears his throat. "you... you're doing all right?" his tone is careful, treading lightly.

"you haven't been answering your phone," jade adds gently, cluing him in on one of the reasons for their concern and, thus, their arrival.

"oh. yeah, my bad. s'not charged. kinda forgot to keep up with it." floyd cards his hand through his hair, exhaling a heavy sigh. "didn't feel like talkin' to anyone, so i didn't want anyone callin'."

"would it be okay if we step in? we've brought your favorites."

floyd glances into his apartment for a minute and then back at jade and azul. he steps aside, shrugging. "be my guest."

he's going to try. for your sake. for jade's sake. for azul's sake. for his mother and father's sake. for his own sake.

he's going to try. one day at a time.

sitting at the table, eating takoyaki and chatting about simple, mundane things, floyd feels peace for the first time in years.

he's going to try. one day at a time.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Room of Mirrors

WORD COUNT: 3.8K

PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader

GENRE: established relationships, unrequited love, hidden feelings, kissing, SMUT MINORS DNI, house of mirrors, mirror sex, unprotected sex, lots of fluffy at the end,

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

*********************************

Ten years was a long time to be in love with someone, even longer if you were forced to be that person's best friend for those ten years but that was your reality. It didn't matter how long you'd tried to hold back your feelings for Yoongi, with each passing day they only grew deeper and stronger. Even when you tried to pick him apart and find icks, it was damn near impossible for you not to be attracted to him and it killed you inside.

It wasn't just because he would never see you as anything more than a friend but because years and years ago, when you were both in college together one drunken Halloween night had led to something you were never going to forget. A night of drunken sex and no regrets on your part. You'd woken up the next morning with a giant smile on your face, rolling over ready to greet Yoongi only to find the sheets cold and empty with no sign of him ever being there except the dull aching inside of your chest as you realised he must have regretted sleeping with you.

After that night it was never brought up again, the subject was never touched upon and Yoongi went on like nothing had ever happened. As if you hadn't spent the most amazing night of your life together and he went back to being your best friend.

"I'm telling you, you're going to love this place. Yn and I come every year," Yoongi told his third date of the week. It was getting closer to the holiday season and so Yoongi was looking for someone to spend it with. You'd seen him do this every year for god knows how long, he'd find someone willing enough to spend the colder seasons with him only to let them go as the new year came around. Maybe it was because he wanted someone to cuddle up to at night or maybe he was just a player but you hated this side of him. Not just because you wanted to be the girl he took back to his place every cold night and cuddle with either.

"I don't really enjoy being scared," Summer shyly said as she flipped her long black hair over her shoulder and glanced in your direction. She seemed like such a lovely girl and you hated how jealous you were that it was her on this date and not you. You weren't exactly sure why you'd agreed to come on a date with Yoongi when you were going to spend the whole thing third-wheeling him,

"I can protect you," Yoongi smirked, grabbing her ass and squeezing it softly the mere action making you want to throw up at the sight of it. Couldn't he keep that shit to a minimum while you were around? The last thing you needed to see was the love of your life fawning over so many other girls.

"Yoongi, Yn is right there!" Summer gasped out slapping his hand away from her ass and moving away, You rolled your eyes a little trying to ignore the aching in your chest as you paid for three tickets to the House of Tricks. It wasn't even a scary attraction, it was just a circus house with different treats inside each room, your favourite place to go was the room of mirrors.

It was the one place that no one could hide and for some reason that really spoke to you. No one could mask their feelings because you'd see it in every single reflection you could see.

"Let's just have fun," Yoongi said as he stood near you, your eyes glancing at him before looking forward again. How could he do this? Bring dates along with you as if you were just one of the guys, did you really mean nothing to him? One night of fun for Yoongi and that was enough to determine you weren't worth anything more than his friendly side...Without even talking to you first.

"Yn, let's go to the magic show...We can leave Yoongi to explore on his own." Summer said, before you even had a chance to protest her she'd linked her arm with yours and began to walk with you in the direction of one of the rooms.

"I thought you were on a date with Yoongi." You mumbled trying to get away from her as quickly as possible. All of the girls Yoongi dated were the same, superficial airheads that didn't seem to care for you being Yoongi's best friend and would do everything that they could to get you away from him. Not that you blamed them, they probably saw you as a threat and thought you'd never do anything to jeopardise Yoongi's date no matter how jealous you were of him.

"Dante the Great!" Someone boomed out as you and Summer walked through the door and took a seat in the back of the room, watching the show-up front. A tall man with dark hair stood in the centre of the room, a top hat on his head and a dark rose tattooed on his left hand.

"I will amaze you with my performance," He told everyone but your attention was suddenly on Summer who was eyeing you up closely.

"What's Yoongi like? I don't want to date him if he's playing me." She told you bluntly, your heart racing a little as you stared back at her,

"He's-" But before you could speak she shook her head at you and gave you a pleading look, a look that could seriously come from a puppy and it made your heart clench.

"From girl to girl, please tell me seriously. Is he going to hump and dump?" Your mouth suddenly felt drier than the desert and you had no idea what to even tell her,

"Yoongi is great," You admitted, licking your lips a little as you tried to give yourself a little time to think of what you could say. You weren't about to intentionally ruin his date,

"He's sweet and he's kind, he might come across as a little...harsh to everyone else but he's," You bit your lip a little as you thought about him,

"He's incredible. No matter what time of day it is, if you ever need anything he's there for you. He'll move mountains to help you with anything you need and not to mention he'd climb through barbed wire to make sure you're never hurt." She stared at you, smiling a little as she listened to you talking about him but once you'd started you weren't sure you were ever going to stop.

"He makes you feel as though you're the only girl in the world, that no one else matters because he's there with you. And if you ever say something stupid he'll never laugh at you with it, maybe in the future when you can both laugh but he's never one to be cruel. Never one to be mean," You looked down at your hands, you'd never admitted any of this to anyone not even your diary got to see this side of how you felt about Yoongi.

"He's great, Summer...You should date him," You mumbled a little trying not to get carried away with how you were speaking and you slowly looked up to see her staring back at you with a smirk on her face.

"Summer?" You laughed awkwardly trying to get her to look away from you but she narrowed her eyes at you and shook her head a little.

"I should have seen it before," She told you as she smiled weakly, reaching her hand out and rubbing her thumb along your knuckles.

"You're in love with Yoongi, right?" Your whole world stopped as you stared at her, if she'd seen it so easily why hadn't he?

"That obvious?" You looked away from her, looking at the show as Dante made a rabbit appear from his hat before giving it to someone in the front row. Your eyes glanced back at Summer as she looked at you with a pitiful look on her face,

"Not until you started talking about him, does he know?" You shook your head in answer to her question and she sighed at you,

"Take it from someone who knows from experience. It's better to tell him than to watch him fuck everyone else instead of you." You knew that she was right but were you really about to take advice from her when she was on a date with the man you were in love with?

"But we had one night together, he left without a word about it." You shrugged your shoulders as she stood up, you followed her and made your way out of the room and into the hallway. Yoongi was waiting in line for the mirrored room and you glanced at Summer once again who smiled weakly.

"Look, from girl to girl. If he does that then he's not worth the time of day, but if your feelings are that deep for him, talk." She told you before hugging you tightly, Yoongi frowned from the other side of the hall wondering what had happened between you for this to happen.

On all of the dates Yoongi had been on or had ever bought you to meet you'd never once hugged one of them or seemed as nice toward them.

"Summer. I thought we could go into the mirrored room." He called out as she walked toward him, kissing his cheek softly.

"I'm not really feeling us as a match," She told him plainly as he stared at her. Not feel them as a match? They'd barely spend any time together for her to determine whether or not she even liked his hair cut how could she just walk off? He barely had time to protest before she walked out of the house leaving you and Yoongi alone together.

"Next couple please," The man at the door announced as Yoongi stepped up, you walked toward him before he walked into the room with an unimpressed look on his face. The door behind you shut and locked and you were left alone, just you and Yoongi and your 100 reflections all staring back at you, Yoongi wasn't in front of you and you weren't exactly sure which Yoongi was even the real him but he was glaring in your direction.

"What did you say to her?" He snarled making your heart rate rocket,

"I didn't say anything bad," You told him as you looked around trying to find where he was standing but he kept on the move, making you follow him as you stretched your hands out in front of you trying not to smash your head into glass.

"But clearly it was enough to scare her away." He growled out, he was sick of his dates not working out anymore. Now that it was closer to the colder seasons it was going to get impossible to ignore the date that was coming up. The anniversary of when he'd almost fucked everything up between you and him.

Halloween all those years ago, one drunken night and one you'd forgotten and he was thankful for. When he'd woken up the morning after he'd rushed out of the dorm room to go and grab food and rethink everything that had happened the nights previous. When you'd come to meet him you'd never bought up the night before and he just knew you'd not remembered a single thing.

Now every Halloween when the night would come around he needed a different girl to get lost in, a different girl so he wouldn't throw himself down at your feet and ask for another night just like the one you'd shared years ago.

"She asked me what you were like, I was honest and told her everything." You shrugged, it wasn't a lie and Yoongi could tell. Fuck, he could read you like a book and he hated that. You were everything to him and all he really wanted to do right now was throw himself at you and kiss you.

"She was boring anyway," He admitted, slowly coming out from behind you and holding your hips in his hands, the small contact sending shivers vibrating throughout your entire body. Your eyes locked with his in the mirror in front of you,

"Tell me what you said to her," He whispered, his lips inches away from your ear as you let out a small gasp while his hands slowly trailed the waistband of your skirt his skin coming into contact with yours.

"I didn't, she figure something out." Your voice was shakey, you didn't trust it not to crack on you as Yoongi continued to run his fingers along the elasticated waistband.

"Which was..." His lips slowly lowered until they were hovering above your bare shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut as you realised you weren't going to get out of this one. Your breaths became laboured as he placed a small and gentle kiss on your skin, a whimper leaving your throat as you decided to throw caution to the wind.

"That I'm in love with you, always have been and always will be," As soon as the words left your throat you were suddenly span around and pushed up against the mirror, your eyes slowly opened to find Yoongi staring at you.

"Ever since Halloween 2022?" He questioned, it was almost ten years since the day and you nodded your head at him and his eyes scanned yours for any sign that you were lying to him.

"You remembered that night?" He sounded surprised which was confusing to you. Of course, you remembered that night. It was he who had decided to play dumb all these years and act as though nothing had happened between you both.

"How could I not? It was the best night of my life," You scoffed at him attempting to walk away but he placed his hand on the mirror beside your head trapping you between him and the mirror.

"I thought you'd forgotten...You never bought it up." He stuttered a little as you stared back at him, your eyes staring directly into his soul as you bit your tongue.

"Neither did you. I thought you regretted it," You admitted as his hand slowly moved to cup your face in his hands, running his thumb along your soft lip and shaking his head.

"My only regret is going ten years without another taste of you," He growled out, your thighs rubbing together as you felt yourself growing wetter at the thought of it.

"Every year was torture as I thought about Halloween with you," He told you as he ran his hand up your thigh and between the skirt you were wearing and your heart began to quicken.

"Yoongi," You whispered out, clutching onto his bicep as he let out a small chuckle at how nervous you suddenly were.

"We have all the time in the world in here," He whispered to you, already knowing that you were worrying about who could walk inside here but he was right. No one was allowed to enter until the two of you pushed the button on the exit door to let them know you'd made your way through it successfully.

"I need you," He told you as he took your hand and slowly placed it over his hardened cock through his jeans and you let out a little giggle that was like music to his ears.

"You did that all Halloween night, you'd giggle and I couldn't help but feel my heart swell for you," He told you as he ran his hands further up your thigh until he reached the black panties you'd put on that afternoon and your hips jerked forward.

"Please, Yoongi." You begged for something, anything, you just wanted to feel him touching you again it was all you'd been wanting for ten years.

"Ten years I've been waiting for this, ten." He told you as he softly rubbed his thumb over your clothed clit, your head rolling back against the mirror as you let out a strangled moan at his touch.

"Every year there was a different girl because I was terrified if I was alone I'd ruin our friendship," He whines out as he begins to pick up the pace on your clit, your eyes rolling back as you let out a strangled moan of his name,

"Now you're telling me I didn't need to worry about that at all," He tutteed a little at you, pretending to be disappointed as he pulled your panties to the side and sunk two fingers deep into your cunt. Your eyes widened as you looked at him, your hands clutching onto his biceps as he smirked at you.

"Yoongi," You cried out as he began to curl his fingers hitting that one spot that made your legs go numb and your whole world spin. It should have been criminal just how good he was with his fingers, you were a moaning mess in his hands as you struggled to stay standing up straight.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Yn," He told you as he continued to fuck his fingers into you, enjoying the sound of wetness as he thrust them faster in and out of you. Your head rolled back against the mirror as he bit down on his lip and did his best to control himself. God, the number of times he'd imagined doing this with you, every Halloween he'd wanted to take you inside of this room.

Fuck you in full view of yourself so you could see how beautiful he found you, to show you how much he wanted to worship your body and so you'd never forget just how badly he wanted you.

"Yoongi, please." You pleaded as he continued to thrust his fingers, your hips bucking toward him as you felt your orgasm ready to wash over you. He spread your legs further apart somehow hitting deeper inside of you as he continued to drive his fingers into you, your eyes rolling back.

"Cum for me baby, cum for me and scream my name." He growled out his pace picking up as your legs shook in place, your nails digging into his skin and causing him to bleed ever so slightly. Your eyes squeezed shut as you moaned out his name, bucking against him as your orgasm crashed over you like a wave your whole body shaking.

"So fucking hot," He grunts looking at you, slowly retreating his fingers from you and sucking them clean all the while staring you in the eyes.

"Turn around and hike up your skirt," He orders as he quickly undoes his belt and frees himself from his boxers, fuck he was bigger than you remembered.

"I'm nervous," You admitted as your eyes met one another in the mirror and he smiled warmly at you, lining his cock up at your entrance.

"I know, but you have nothing to be nervous about," He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck as he carefully pressed into you, inch by inch giving you time to adjust as you let out a small cry.

"Fuck, Yoongi you're too big." You moaned out as he bit down on your ear a little, reaching around you with one hand and squeezing your nipple through the thin fabric.

"I'm perfect for you," He moaned out as he slowly began to withdraw from you, only to push back inside of you again, you were so fucking tight he could barely hold himself together,

"You feel so fucking amazing," He moaned out looking down at you as your breathing picked up, your eye smeeting his in the mirror.

"You're so hot Yoongi," You breathed out, your words giving him encouragement as he continued to thrust his hips in and out of you, bottoming out each time as you clenched around him.

"Fuck," He groans letting his head drop to your shoulder blade, your breathing is laboured as you stare at him,

"I'm so fucking full," You cry out, your hands trying to grip the mirror as you look at one another,

"M-Move, Yoongi...Please," You begged as he slowly began to rock his hips in and out of you, looking down at you as he held your hip in one hand and the other on the mirror in front of him.

"Roll...f-fuck, roll your hips a little," He begged as you began to roll your hips back to meet his, your moans becoming louder as you cried out one another's name.

"I'm so close, I'm sorry." He whined out but you didn't stop rocking your hips back to meet his, you were desperate for him to come you wanted to hear his moans, to watch him as he came for you.

"Don't stop then," You begged as you looked him in the eyes through the mirror,

"Cum, please Yoongi." You begged out as he looked down at you, his hands holding onto you tightly as he began to drive in and out of you, a breathless gasp falling past your lips.

"Yoongi,." You warned him as he hit that spot again and again, a smirk growing on his face as he continued to fuck into that same spot for you. The pressure continued to build at the base of your stomach as you whimpered, legs slipping a little but Yoongi held you tighter keeping you upright,

"Yoongi, Oh my god," You groan out as he continues to fuck into you roughly. Your orgasm erupts as you whimper, bucking against him as your entire body grows numb, your vision blurring as he continues to fuck into you.

"Oh fuck me," He groans out as he comes, his hips stilling as he looks down at you, sweat dripping down your forehead but you'd never looked more beautiful.

"I love you," You whispered as you looked at him, Yoongi grunted as he slowly pulled out of you enjoying the way you pouted and let out a whine of protest at the sudden lack of fullness.

"I love you too," He whispered, cleaning himself off with his boxers before tucking himself away and looking at you. Slowly he licked his lips as the two of you gathered yourselves up ready to go and hit the buzzer to get out. Hopefully the music out in the hallway had muffled the sounds of what you were doing, not that either of you really cared all that much you were never going to see any of these people again.

"Let's go back to mine, have a nice warm bath and then we can watch whatever movie you want." He suggested as you headed out of the house and into the cold night,

"Sure," You kissed his cheek softly very happy with how the night had turned around for the two of you. The two of you walked hand in hand toward his car, a giant smile on both your faces as you did your best to act as though your legs weren't currently like jelly.

****

[phoenixyfriend]

The Shift in America's Support of Israel as of 3/25/24

Okay, so there have been three specific incidents recently that I'd like to cover for you guys.

Chuck Schumer's speech calling for a new election in Israel, which I have spoken about here and here. (3/14/24)

Congress voting to ban UNRWA funding until 2025, which I've seen a lot of people talking about, but often without an actual understanding of what the situation actually is. (It's bad, but it's not the same type of bad as people think.) (3/24/24)

The US abstaining from a UN Security Council vote, which is effectively voting against Israel when they have thus far been the only ones to use veto power in this manner. (3/25/24)

I'm not going to go into detail about Schumer, since I've already covered it. tldr: it's a very specifically worded speech that does not explicitly threaten Israel, but if you do even the slightest bit of reading between the lines, that is absolutely what is happening.

Also, before I move forward: the US may not be donating to UNRWA for the rest of the fiscal year, but you can. They have direct donation links.

UNRWA funding has been on hold for a while, but this is... complicated. Not morally, because UNRWA does need funding and to defund it is truly unconscionable, but many of the "Biden signed it into law" posts are approaching it with this implied message that UNRWA would have funding if not for Biden signing it.

Except that isn't really how the US government works. Especially this government.

Funding for 2024 was supposed to be passed months ago. We are on the verge of another government shutdown. UNRWA funding is not on the table until the House swings blue. I hate to be the one to say this, but it's... like, it's not something I can change alone. I know you're tired of hearing it, but voting in November is the key to fixing a whole lot of problems.

One of the core duties of Congress is passing budgets. For those budgets to pass, they need to be approved by the House (Republican Majority), the Senate (Democrat Majority), and the President. The reason it has taken five months to pass a yearly budget (the deadline iirc was September or October) is because anything approved by one chamber is shot down by the other.

UNRWA's de-funding is tied to Ukraine funding (and a few other things). Biden refusing to sign would not have brought back UNRWA funding. The funding is already on hold. We do not have the votes to bring it back. We just straight up do not have enough seats in the House to make that happen. Biden refusing to sign would have resulted in both UNRWA and Ukraine not having funding, indefinitely. Signing it resulted in one of the two getting funding.

This is not a situation where funding was approved and now cut. This is not a situation where money was already flowing to UNRWA. This is a situation where money wasn't going anywhere, because Congress is a split shitshow.

Think of it like this: Funding is water coming from a spigot. Congress can turn it on or off, and it's currently off. Biden can smack away the hand coming to twist the valve, but he can't touch the valve himself. That's what the presidential veto is. Unfortunately, the spigot is already off, and Biden can't twist it back on when Congress isn't already reaching to do so.

Is this bad? Yes! UNRWA's funding should never have been cut! We should still be very, very upset about this! But I need you to understand that the way the US government works is not a dictatorship. Biden cannot just overrule Congress, especially when we're on the verge of another shutdown.

I do not think it is fair or even really acceptable that UNRWA's funding was viewed as an appropriate point of compromise. I'm just, unfortunately, also aware that this particular legislation is a tug-of-war that was never going to end with funding going to Palestine, not with the current Republican control of the House.

"But Biden sent money to Israel a bunch of times--" Yeah, and he's paying for it in the polls. He's aware that people are pissed at him. That choice is already biting him in the ass.

Biden is not perfect and I am never going to claim he is, but please recognize that the UNRWA funding pull is not a current action. It is a past action that is now being sustained because the House is red. You want to bring back UNRWA funding? Get rid of Marjorie Taylor Green and her entire cohort.

The other reason I'm less than eager to view that UNRWA thing as Biden being pro-Israel is because the US has finally abstained on a UN vote instead of vetoing.

When the US has been the only voice on Israel's side in the Security Council this whole time, abstention is functionally voting against them. We already knew that 13-14 of the other 14 members were going to vote pro-ceasefire. They have been this entire time. The US abstaining is functionally agreeing.

Why did the US not just vote for the ceasefire, then? No idea. Might be a treaty thing. I don't really need to know, because the result is that the UN Security Council has finally passed a measure against Israel, and those things are legally binding, and we know it's a big step because Israel's government is not happy.

When paired with the Schumer speech from a week and a half ago, it indicates a major shift in US foreign policy.

From the Al Jazeera article:

The US had repeatedly blocked Security Council resolutions that put pressure on Israel but has increasingly shown frustration with its ally as civilian casualties mount and the UN warns of impending famine in Gaza. Speaking after the vote, US Ambassador Linda Thomas-Greenfield blamed Hamas for the delay in passing a ceasefire resolution. “We did not agree with everything with the resolution,” which she said was the reason why the US abstained. “Certain key edits were ignored, including our request to add a condemnation of Hamas,” Thomas-Greenfield said. [...] The White House said the final resolution did not have language the US considers essential and its abstention does not represent a shift in policy. But Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s office said the US failure to veto the resolution is a “clear retreat” from its previous position and would hurt war efforts against Hamas as well as efforts to release Israeli captives held in Gaza.

This action has also resulted in Israel pulling plans for "a high-level delegation" to visit the US for discussions on the invasion of Rafah (which Biden has purportedly been warning against for a while).

“We’re very disappointed that they won’t be coming to Washington, DC, to allow us to have a fulsome conversation with them about viable alternatives to them going in on the ground in Rafah,” [John] Kirby told reporters. [...] Last week, Netanyahu promised to defy US appeals and expand Israel’s military campaign to Rafah even without its ally’s support.

There are other complications and details here, such as that the resolution does not call for a permanent ceasefire, and that US tensions with Russia and China are still somehow playing a role in the negotiations over the ceasefire text, but ultimately...

The US abstaining is a good thing. Schumer's speech is a good thing. They are not enough, but they are good things. They are steps forward.

The pull of funding from UNRWA is not a good thing. It is, in fact, a very, very bad thing. It just also looks a lot like it was unavoidable.

So call your reps, and vote come November. It's a long slog and we all know it, but we can't make change without dedication.

To support my blogging so I can move out of my parents’ house, I do have a ko-fi. Alternately, you can donate to one of the charities I list in this post.

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: a pirate au

-

Before having the nerve to turn Roier in to the Navy, Spreen had this to say:

“I have no compassion for anybody.”

And then he had leaned forward and driven both the metaphorical and literal-actual-goddamn sword in between Roier’s ribs, and he had whispered right into Roier’s ringing ear:

“You’re lucky I’m not drowning you.”

And then he had kicked Roier off of his ship and onto the Navy’s, and he had sailed away, free to live and fight another day while leaving his best friend and first mate behind.

But, well. Joke’s on him! It’s been a year since that fateful day, but Roier is alive, and he’s free, and he’s got a gun and a sword and a ship of his own, and he’s gonna make Spreen pay.

But first? Breakfast, and fast. The Navy is after him, and he doesn’t want to get captured this early in the morning. (Foolish would never let it go!)

The Barcoier docks just after sunrise, and Roier is off the ship and speeding down the pier before Jaiden even has the anchor weighed.

The island is small, so small that it’s just a town and some farms and a couple of trees and a single lake smack in the center of it all. It’s so small it doesn’t even have a name, but that just makes it all the better for hiding from the Navy on; if it’s too small to be on a map, it’s too small for those idiots with the Navy to pick up on.

Maybe Roier is a bad pirate captain for leaving his crew to tie up the ship and run errands while he gets everyone breakfast and tries not to get arrested. But also:

(“We need a chef,” Jaiden complains. “No offense, dude, but your cooking sucks.”

Roier sniffs, hurt, but he doesn’t argue. He’s a better chef on land than he is on the water.

“I’ll get us a chef,” he promises. “But only if you-” He pokes Jaiden between the eyes with a corner of his hardtack biscuit. “-get us better food! Nobody can cook with this!”

He smacks his biscuit hard enough against the table to crack it [the table.] Jaiden rolls her eyes, but she shrugs.)

Where there’s a good breakfast, there’s a good chef. And, on an island as tiny as this one is, said chef might just be desperate enough for a change of pace that they’d agree to become a pirate. (It’s how Spreen got Roier, after all.)

How hard can it be?

…Really hard, actually, especially now that the Federation and its Navy are starting to crack down extra hard on pirates. They’ve moved on from life imprisonment to public executions, and all because most of the pirates left on the seas have started to unionize under the guidance of the feared Captain Bad Halo.

But, who knows? Maybe today will be the day!

Maybe…

-

The town’s only restaurant is closed for renovations, but the town’s bakery is open, thank God.

The bakery, much like the town it’s based in, doesn’t have a name. It does, however, have a wooden sign hanging above the door with a donut painted on it. The donut’s center, rather than being a hole, is a bright yellow-irised eyeball. Freaky.

The door jingles like rusted keys as Roier enters. Someone swears from the back room; otherwise, the bakery is entirely empty.

“Coming!” Roier hears.

“No worries!” he responds. “Take your time!”

He doesn’t exactly have time for the baker to take, but he isn’t exactly going to get himself a chef by being rude, is he?

So Roier waits, and he takes the opportunity to look at the display cases by the front counter. Donuts, of course, some muffins. An… abnormal amount of meat pies. Sure? Why not! Every place has its specialties.

A few moments pass, during which Roier starts mentally counting how many of each item he’s gonna need, and then footsteps from the back and an apologetic, “Sorry, I’m just-”

The baker cuts himself off as Roier stands up and looks him over. He’s… handsome, okay. Okay. More importantly, he already looks more piratey than half of Roier’s crew: pierced ear, scar across the bridge of his nose, solid build. Hot.

“You’re a pirate,” the baker says, much calmer than most regular people would be. Good, he’s brave, pirates need to be brave.

Roier leans forward against the counter, propping himself up on his elbows. He smiles, head tilted juuuust so.

“Who, me?” he asks. He shakes his head. “Naaaah. I’m just a regular guy looking for breakfast, you know?”

The baker’s eyes trail over Roier’s head and shoulders like he’s memorizing him. Creepy, kinda. Hot, kinda.

Roier continues, “But I’ve never been here before, so… any recommendations?”

He winks. The baker’s eyes widen slightly, and then he smiles himself and leans himself against the counter, his arms just inches away from Roier’s.

“Well,” he says, “the donuts will last longer on a long trip, if that’s what you’re asking. Everything else has fresh ingredients in it.”

“Who says I’m going on a long trip?”

The baker rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the counter to start unloading donuts into a bag. “Please, nobody actually wants to stay in this shithole. I’m used to tourists.”

He has nice arms. Maybe he even knows how to use a sword already.

“Sooo… you want to leave, too?” Roier asks.

The baker shrugs. “Maybe someday.”

That isn’t a no…

So it’s basically a yes!

Roier beams. “What if today was your someday?”

The baker gives him a flat look. “I’m not a pirate.”

“Maybe I’m not, either. But I do need someone on my ship who knows how to cook, and you wanna get out of here.”

The last donut is dumped into the bag, and the baker ties the bag shut and plops it onto the counter. He leans over it with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not a chef, either,” he says. “Shouldn’t you be hiring someone that can actually cook, Captain Roier?”

At Roier’s gasp, the baker nods his head towards the wall behind Roier. On it is a bulletin board with wanted posters for nearly every pirate on the seas, Roier included.

Whoops.

Whatever! The baker hasn’t called the authorities yet, so he’s fine.

Roier opens his mouth, ready to try his pitch again, but he’s rudely interrupted by a cannon ball sailing through the bakery’s front window and slamming into a cabinet full of flour.

The room explodes into white, sending both Roier and the baker reeling.

“Fuck!” Roier coughs. He fans the air in front of his face, blinking rapidly to get the flour off of his eyes.

The bakery’s door is slammed open by a heavy boot. Its owner, a Navy officer, follows it in with his sword drawn and pointed at… the baker.

“Hands in the air,” the officer sneers.

Roier looks at the officer. He looks at the baker.

The baker looks at him. The baker looks at the officer.

He raises his hands slowly, holding the donut bag with it for whatever reason.

He looks at Roier again, a small smile on his handsome, yet flour-dusted, face.

“Thank you for having me aboard, captain,” he says.

The officer just then seems to notice Roier, but the poor bastard is just a bit too late because, just as he’s turning around to slash at the very obvious pirate captain in the room, Cellbit chucks the donuts at the idiot’s head. The bag makes contact, and then it makes the officer stumble right into the pointy end of Roier’s sword.

What a shame.

Roier pulls his sword out of the guy’s stomach with a grimace, wiping the blood on the bakery’s shredded window curtains.

He turns to smile at the baker, then.

“Glad to have you aboard…”

“Cellbit,” the baker supplies.

Now, where has Roier heard that name before…?

Whatever! There’s time for that later.

For now, Roier has a ship to get to, and he has a chef to deliver to it.

[chloessleepystories]

A Year with Santa Claus

How many references can you find to favorite holiday stories?

I was lying on the couch in the living room Christmas Eve, laptop on my tummy, all the lights out except the lights from the tree. It was pretty. It was peaceful. It was boring.

But at least it was quiet – my younger siblings were nestled all snug in their beds, while mama in her kerchief and dad in his saggy tightie-whities were settled in for their long winter’s siesta after six glasses of cheap Walgreens wine. I was browsing dirty hypno Tumblr on my laptop and getting progressively hornier, so I shucked off my sweatpants and started stroking.

When suddenly I heard a jingling and a twinkling on the roof, as of the prancing and pawing of little hooves. And then, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a shower of soot on the floor, and the fireplace full of Santa Claus himself.

My long pale bare legs splayed, my sweatshirt hoisted up over one small teenage boob, and my sticky fingers covering my crotch, I must have been a sight. But all I said was: “I’m not cleaning that up.”

I guess it takes a lot to surprise Santa. His mouth hung open for a minute or two, but he quickly recovered – dropping his sack of toys and fumbling with his big belt buckle.

“Do we have time for this?” I whispered.

“Silly child,” he said. “Time is never an issue.” He threw a handful of gold dust in the air and instantly, time seemed to stand still. The clock stopped between ticks. The sprinkles settled on my bare body, and on my face, and tingled wherever they hit. I mindlessly slid forward off the couch and onto my knees, as a wave of peace and joy warmed my mind and hardened my nipples. He pulled my sweatshirt off as I gazed up at him, completely naked, my smile spreading as he stripped off his furs.

I gotta say, I was expecting an old fat man – a right jolly old elf – but I have been MISINFORMED, y’all. Turns out Santa is big, yes, but it’s almost all muscle. And he’s a silver fox – silver hair, short silver beard … with tattoos … “NICE” on his left forearm, and “NAUGHTY” on his right. And his name isn’t actually Santa, it turns out – but Sander…

His cock was impressive, majestic, and it tasted like cinnamon. His precum was like frosting, so sweet – undoubtedly from all the cookies. I sucked and slurped as he stroked my hair, and moved gently in and out of my mouth. It felt so good to serve him, to please him … then he picked me up as if I weighed nothing, and settled my dripping cunny on the head of his cock.

“It’s so warm!” I whispered. “It’s like you’re burning me up from the inside!”

Sander grinned, and there was a twinkle in his eye. “That’s me,” he said. “I’m Mr Hundred-and-One.”

He used me like a toy, but gently and lovingly, filling me so full with every thrust. He lay me back down on the carpeting, under the tree, and I looked up at all the pretty lights, in a daze, as he pumped into me for what seemed like hours … until finally Santa came down my chimney. Again and again, he came down my chimney.

I lay there panting as he dressed all in his furs again. I wasn’t sure if I could form words. When he knelt beside me, I whimpered like a broken doll. “Do you have to go?”

He smiled, shaking his head, and took out a sprig of mistletoe from his coat pocket. He held it over me. “I’m taking you back to my workshop, my dear. I’ll fix you up there … then I’ll bring you back here …” He broke a mistletoe berry under my nose. My eyes rolled back, and in an instant I was unconscious.

The next year passed by in a blur, a candy-colored, peppermint-flavored haze of sex and sweets. (If it was only a year – but I had my doubts about that. It seemed like it was always “nearly Christmas” around Sander and his people, and it was a perpetual aura of excitement plus exhaustion.) Time ceased to have any meaning. I learned to serve the elves. I made cookies with Mrs Claus – a process she enjoyed very much. And the things I ate and drank filled me with Christmas cheer, in different ways.

Some chocolates seemed to chip away at my intelligence. Some fruitcake seemed to leave me in a drugged-out blissful stupor for hours. Sometimes I seemed sharp and alert, but the only thing I could think of were the Christmas carols playing over and over in my mind, accompanying thoughts of various sex acts.

“Try some of this,” Mrs Claus would say as we cooked and baked together in her kitchen … And I would find myself licking the sugar from her hands, then sucking on her fingers, then going down on her snatch of silver-and-gold.

“Look into my eyes,” Sander would say, and I would gaze into his eyes for a while, smelling his breath of peppermint and pipe tobacco, but somehow not hearing the words he spoke into my unresisting ears … until I would awaken with “NAUGHTY” choking my throat,  just a little bit, while “NICE” was kneading and stroking my sex.

I was his favorite toy. He loved finding new games to play with me, to make me entertain him, or the others … or to make me happy. One of his favorites was turning me into a snowman. “There must be some magic in this hat I found,” he would say, then he would plop it on my head, and I would instantly freeze. He and the Missus would play with my body, and it would respond, but I could barely feel it – I was nearly numb, and the arousal would be far away. No matter what, I couldn’t cum. My eyes would leak in my frustration, but I couldn’t move, and could barely feel, a frozen snowman … until they removed the hat. Then everything would flood back into my body at once, and I would scream and shake and almost pass out from the explosion inside every cell.

Once, Sander hypnotized me into believing I was one of the reindeer. My name was Olive … Olive the other reindeer. He took a red thread, and he tied some antlers to the top of my head, then he led me into the stables. He left me there for hours … playing all the reindeer games.

I ate sweets and I breathed magic. I learned … I grew … I changed. My ass rounded and my breasts filled out as I grew older, more womanly, no longer a teenager. The elves would use my body for hours, as if they had never seen someone as tall as me, never had access to sexual partners before … as if they needed the practice. I loved letting the elves practice on me, my holes, my tits … it was like being swarmed by sex-starved puppies, and I loved it.

But the day finally came when Sander told me he needed to send me back to the world. It was almost Christmas again … though whether it was the same Christmas I had left, or the next one, or any other Christmas, I neither knew nor cared. I wept, and Father Christmas held me close. “I will always know when you’re sleeping, and when you’re awake,” he whispered. “I’ll know if you’ve been bad or good – so be good and naughty.”

“Yes Daddy,” I nodded, sniffling.

He touched my tears, with wonder and concern. “What’s this? What’s this?”

I sniffled.

“Santa baby?” I asked. “Could I make one wish, this Christmas?”

I could, and I did. I wished not to go back to my family, but a different one. He even let me pick one out. It took some time, and some research, but it was worth it.

Then, when I was finally ready, he gave me a cup of hot cocoa. I sipped it, then felt the sugar plums and fairy music swell. “Say … what’s in that drink,” I murmured as I lost consciousness.

So … here I am. Under the tree, dressed in lingerie and a cute little Santa hat – switched “off,” ready to be turned on by love and Christmas magic when the family come downstairs in the morning.

I picked a kind looking widower named Bob, who had to raise several kids on his own. The youngest, Tim, is sickly, but has made it to age 18, and I know I can make him, and his brothers, and their father, all happy. It gives me sexual pleasure to serve… so I’ll cook, and clean, and bake the best cookies they’ve ever had – and fulfill their sexual fantasies too. Sander even left instructions and trigger words for some of the games we’ve played, and modes he’s installed. I know I can make them all very happy.

I will miss elf practice, though.

[beom1e]

come home tonight

this, of all things, was supposed to work. that’s what you told yourself, repeated in your mind every night as you sat alone in the half-empty bedroom, every possession of beomgyu’s now missing. it was always going to be him for you. why didn’t he feel the same way?

pairing choi beomgyu x fem! reader

genre long-term relationship, lovers to exes, angst, slight fluff

warnings breakup, cursing, signs of depression

at the start of adulthood, you grew to love the year’s end.

the cold air would bite at the tip of your nose and your cheeks, and as much as you could hate it, the reddened skin was a sweet reminder of the season. it was cold enough to have a few extra blankets on your bed and maybe a hot water bottle too, and then to wake up and slip on some fluffy socks and a cosy hoodie. there was imagery of orange leaves and shades of brown coming into fashion, hot drinks rising to the top of the menu and a warm meal in a cosy cafe replacing the ice cream in the park cliché of a passing summer.

people came together for so many celebrations, families being reunited and the larger population becoming more generous in favour of the seasonal charities. a wave of students would move away from their childhood homes, only to return shortly after for a loving dinner around the table and matching pyjamas and movie marathons.

you especially loved october. halloween, pumpkin, scary movies, autumn fashion, pie, soup, knitted jumpers. and you had met the love of your life then, a random october evening on what had seemed like just another ordinary day.

every year, you had to buy decorations for your dorm, both arms holding heavy bags but you were totally unbothered due to your childlike excitement. and that was when one of the bags had broke open, everything falling to the ground at your feet in a mess of orange, purple and brown decor.

the kind stranger had rushed over to help you, collecting decorations in his arms before they could roll off onto the road. that was the day you had fallen for beomgyu’s smile and stubbornness to help you carry everything home. he teased you about your love for the annual holiday, admitting he had no plans to decorate his own dorm. so of course you offered to help him do it, and the innocent trip to a decoration store with him quickly became your first date of many.

he reminded you so much of the colder months. when you could see your breath in the air, the way the wind blew your hair forward into your eyes, wool hats and thick boots, grabbing a bite to eat from the nearest hot food truck. despite his bright personality, he had always been the calm autumn after the hectic summer in your eyes.

and, inevitably, he was how you grew to hate the year’s end.

october 11th,

‘soobin’s halloween party is coming up,’ beomgyu called from the kitchen, over the sound of water running and filling up the glass in his hand. ‘do you want to come with me?’

‘sure,’ the tap was turned off in time for your reply. ‘do you want to come with me to pick up some decorations?’

‘what’s the point?’ he turned into the living room, sipping from his water. you turned back to look at him, a costume magazine in your hands. ‘i mean, if we’re not throwing a party and won’t actually be home for halloween, why do we need to decorate?’

‘it brings me comfort,’ shrugging, you turned back to your magazine and folded the corner of a page that interested you. beomgyu leaned over the back of the sofa to see what you were looking at, a scoff escaping his lips. ‘what’s wrong?’

‘don’t you think we’re a little too old to be dressing up for halloween?’ his tone was mocking, one that you really didn’t care for. in all the time that you had known your boyfriend, he had never been against letting you celebrate halloween in the way that you loved. the shift in his attitude was a telltale sign that something was up.

‘we’re not going to cut eye holes into bedsheets, beomgyu,’ you shot back. ‘we can be a couple from a famous horror series or something. like sabrina and harvey, for example.’

‘why don’t you just get some cat ears and wear all black?’ he rolled his eyes, moving around the couch to sit beside you.

‘is there a problem?’ snapping the magazine closed, you leaned and tossed it onto the coffee table. ‘we’ve done this for the past three years. why do you have an issue with it now?’

‘i just think it’s a childish idea,’ he explained. ‘most girls dress like a playboy bunny, or just find any excuse to wear leather.’

‘so my sabrina and harvey suggestion wasn’t slutty enough for you?’ the look of utter annoyance painted your features. ‘let’s come back to this when you’re done being an asshole.’

october 14th,

the call went to voicemail again. you huffed, placing your phone face down onto the kitchen table that you were sitting at. beomgyu hadn’t picked the phone up in hours, nor was he answering your texts or showing any sign that he was coming home soon. after the small fight the two of you had a few days ago, he began avoiding you as if it had been all your fault.

you thought that things would change for this particular night.

around thirty minutes after the last attempt to call him, the door into your apartment clicked open. in came the topic of your thoughts, phone in hand and screen brightened due to movement. clearly he was just ignoring you, and had no genuine reason to avoid your calls.

‘oh,’ he looked up, taking in the sight. you’d set the table with candles and wine glasses, cold food untouched on your best plates. guilt consumed him when he remembered that it was your third year anniversary, and he had been a jerk to you all day. ‘i’m sorry, y/n, i was just busy and forgot what today was.’

‘ok,’ you replied simply, arms still crossed against your chest. it was your mission to avoid his eyes, because you knew you would forgive him if you were to take in his gentle features. and that was the last thing you wanted. ‘i’m going to bed. clean this up for me, yeah?’

beomgyu watched you exit the kitchen and go into the bathroom. you were wearing a dress he had bought you for one of your birthdays, one that he told you was his favourite. your hair and makeup had been done to perfection, and yet there stood beomgyu in jeans and a t-shirt and nothing prepared for you. no gifts, no surprises, not even a ‘happy anniversary’ wish or a bouquet of ‘i’m sorry’ flowers.

‘y/n, wait,’ he followed quickly behind you, pulling the bathroom door closed before you could open it all the way. ‘i messed up badly, i know, but i want to make it up to you.’

‘are you going to build a time machine so that you can go back in time and actually remember our anniversary?’ you laughed bitterly, shooting him a glare. ‘can you just get out of my way?’

he removed his grip on the handle, stepping aside. once inside the locked bathroom, you slid down to the floor so that you were sat with your back to the door and your head in your hands. did he not love you anymore?

‘i know you don’t want to talk to me right now,’ he continued on from the other side of the door. ‘i was an asshole. i started the fight and let you take the blame for it, and i didn’t even remember our anniversary, but you did all of this for me even though you were still angry at me. i’m so sorry, y/n, and i don’t expect you to forgive me.’

‘good, because i don’t forgive you,’ you whispered, tears threatening to fall. ‘i think i’m going to stay with a friend for a while… just until i can face you again.’

‘y/n, please don’t do this,’ beomgyu rested his head against the door, eyes closing in defeat. ‘please don’t leave. i’ll go… i’ll go stay with yeonjun for a week… to give us both some time to cool down and think.’

‘if that’s what you want,’ sighing, you wiped away at your tears. ‘and i won’t be going to soobin’s party.’

‘i wasn’t expecting you to,’ he frowned, lifting his head from the door and pushing away from it. ‘i’m sorry, y/n. seriously, this was all my fault.’ the floorboards creaked beneath his shoes as he walked away. that was your cue to get ready for bed, while he silently cleaned up the kitchen.

after you showered and changed into some warm pyjamas, you headed straight for bed without a worry about what beomgyu was doing. it was clear to you now that he had finally fallen out of love with you. 

the hours you had spent making him his favourite meal, the expensive gift you left waiting for him on his bedside table, the dessert still sitting in the centre of the oven, the smile on your face as you found a ribbon perfectly matching the colour of his favourite dress of yours. that was the evidence. he didn’t even care, clearing everything away and spending the final hour of daylight in the living room alone. it was over.

october 15th,

it felt wrong. it felt empty. you’d spent the entire night tossing and turning, something in your muscles and joints and bones aching and preventing you from peacefully drifting off. when you woke up, beomgyu was already watching you with hurt in his gaze. if not for the painful connotations, it would have been sweet. two lovers waking up side-by-side in their shared bed, his eyes scanning over her features. except he was wondering where it all went wrong, and not how he got so lucky. he wanted to speak, but he had nothing left to say.

you rolled over to face away before making the move to get out of bed. the bedroom door closed loudly behind you after you disappeared. he sat up after, looking around the room filled with so many memories of the two of you. he came to the conclusion that he wasn’t ready to lose you just yet.

so he hurried after you, meeting you in the kitchen as you made yourself a morning coffee. you had this unmoving expression on your face, but your eyes were sad.

‘i don’t want to run away to yeonjun’s,’

‘i think we should break up,’

‘y/n, no,’ beomgyu was stubborn, that was one thing you had learned about him during your relationship. whether it was getting the last word in or completing a difficult level on the game he was playing, he wouldn’t give up until he got it. ‘we don’t have to break up to fix this, i want to be with you.’

‘no, you don’t,’ you mumbled, sniffling. he hurried to pull you into his arms, not wanting to see you cry if he was the reason behind it. ‘you don’t love me anymore.’

he didn’t know what to say, he wasn’t even sure if what you had said was true or false. he just let you cry in his arms, tears stinging at the corners of his own eyes as his t-shirt began to soak through. falling out of love was nobody’s fault, it certainly wasn’t his decision. he would never choose to lose you.

it felt like hours before he let you go. the grip you’d had on the material of his shirt left behind creases in two places, some of your hair stuck to your neck from where his head had been buried, tears of his own having inevitably fell.

but after the moment you shared, beomgyu was packing a week’s worth of things into the suitcase you’d taken to jeju last year and you were sitting in the middle of your bed with your knees to your chest. you had promised each other forever and you were willing to give him forever. how could he lose interest in you in just three years? how could he fall out of love with you when you were still so enamoured with him?

the very place you were coexisting in was the home you had built from the ground up. it was just a rented apartment — one that had seen many couples alike come and go — but you had made enough memories in it to make it feel special. the night you moved in, your first anniversary, all of the movie nights under rainfall, the talks you had about growing old together forever. memories that had been locked into the walls and the windows and the couch and the bedsheets. and as you stared at the person who you had created all of the memories with, you felt them all slipping away from you.

all you could feel was anger, embarrassment and heartache.

‘call me if you ever want to talk,’ beomgyu was standing in the doorway then, inches away from leaving your shared home. ‘i promise i’ll pick up every time you call.’

you only nodded weakly, your hand holding the door open being the only thing keeping him inside. neither of you knew what to say. how do you say goodbye to the love of your life?

once the door was closed, he was gone. you didn’t know what the future held for you both, whether he was ever going to come back and beg for you to let him stay. or would you slowly fall out of love with him in the same way that he had fallen out of love with you? maybe this was all a mistake and you were going to laugh about your time apart with friends in the future as they sat around your table in the kitchen with you. but only a fool would believe that.

october 24th,

the first week without beomgyu, you didn’t call. he wasn’t active on social media and he didn’t try to contact you either. it was a week to yourself, time for you to work on personal affairs and find happiness outside of your relationship. at the end of the week, he came back to pick up some more things. he didn’t drop to his knees and beg for another chance, he didn’t even ask if you wanted him to come back. you were walls apart as he washed some clothes and made a snack before packing up most of his stuff and walking out.

all you could do was cry into the pillow that still carried his scent that was slowly fading. the motivation to take care of yourself faded with his presence. you called in sick to work, cancelled on all of your friends, you barely even left the bedroom. if he was to show up again like that, out of the blue, you wouldn’t be able to face him.

november 17th,

weeks turned into a month and soon it was an apartment that was half yours and half nobody else’s. all of the bills had been switched to your name, not even the netflix subscription under his name anymore. the bedsheets and pillows had been washed of his scent completely. all he was to you was an untouched contact in your phone, the last few texts displaying arrangements for him to come pick the rest of his things up the night before halloween.

nobody broke up with anybody, you assumed he called it quits the first night he spent at his friend’s house. you told everyone it was a mutual agreement to break up, they hardly pitied you that way. some would apologise for bringing it up and give you that sympathetic frown, others would claim you weren’t right for each other, but they were wrong. he was the one for you, you’d been sure of that ever since the day you met him.

he was always kind, nobody expected it. he loved to joke around with his friends and play video games as if it was a paying job, but he was mature. he always had a logical solution when you turned to him for one. it was only when he knew you needed to laugh again that he would tease you or make an immature joke that received an eye-roll.

he knew you more than anyone else ever had. your favourite drink that he would always arrive with at the university library when you studied together. your forever loves, the movies you never got tired of and snacks you could eat until the end of time. the way you liked to be held in his arms before bed, the exact technique that would make you fall asleep when he played with your hair. how long you liked to shower, your favourite scent in perfumes and shampoos and detergent. your go-to flavour of ice cream, foods you would never eat even if you were offered a large sum of money.

god, you missed him like crazy. he seemed fine.

your relationship slowly disappeared from social media as if it hadn’t even happened. he was the first to delete the photos and posts about you, even the photos you had taken of him. you simply followed suit, not wanting to seem pathetic. although you archived every one rather than permanently deleting them, and a small part of you hoped he did the same.

everybody adjusted to the break-up, cutting themselves off whenever they mentioned his name around you. they tiptoed around you as if they knew that you would fall apart just thinking about him and what you’d once had. but you didn’t want it to be over. the lack of his presence in your life only caused you more pain, you just wanted him back.

the closest you had gotten to beomgyu since halloween was yeonjun showing up at your door. ‘he wanted me to return this,’ he’d said, holding a key out towards you. it was missing its keyrings, just a key attached to a metal loop. ‘and if you want it, i have his new address.’

of course you declined. he heartlessly sent a friend to return his key to you, but offered you an entrance into his new life without you. you wanted no part in his game, but avoiding beomgyu was impossible. you lived in the same area, shopped at the same stores, had the same friends. eventually you would have to talk, and you would have to find out what exactly happened between the two of you.

visiting the convenience store late at night was a common thing for you to do. you were wearing some old, checkered pyjama pants and a hoodie too big for your frame. it was going to just be a quick run in and out for some snacks and painkillers for your stubborn headache when you saw him standing there in front of an illuminated fridge.

he was staring between two drinks, one in each hand as if he was making a decision. his attire was much more put together than your almost-pyjama situation. he was dressed as if he had been out all day, like he had been out with somebody else, probably on a date considering he was dressed the same as he would when you he took you out on dates.

it was unknown to you, but beomgyu dressed up and came to the store in search for you. then it could be an accident that you bumped into each other, if this time was successful. he was always trying to accidentally bump into you on purpose.

you took off down an aisle as far away from him as you could, eyes searching for the painkillers that you typically bought. once you grabbed them and moved to another aisle, you heard beomgyu heading towards the cashier. thinking you were in the clear, you walked down the aisle he was previously occupying in search of the snacks you craved. as you approached the end of the aisle, the boy you were avoiding turned the corner and stopped in his tracks at the sight of you.

your feet brought you to a stop, just inches away from crashing into him. a sigh of relief left your lips.

‘hey,’ he spoke first, meeting your eyes.

‘hey,’ you whispered, gaze falling to the ground.

‘how are you?’ it was a stupid question to ask, he didn’t know where to start. all he wanted was to be close to you again.

‘well it’s a friday night and i’m about to eat a whole tub of ice cream and watch a movie,’ you laughed shortly, gesturing towards the ice cream box behind beomgyu. ‘what about you, is your date waiting for you in the car?’

‘i don’t have a date,’ the reply was simple and lacking emotion in his words, but you felt a wave of relief. it was reassuring that he wasn’t seeing anyone. it made you feel hopeful. ‘things are just a mess right now with the move and everything.’

‘yeah,’ you breathed out, then awkwardly chewing the inside of your cheek. ‘i better go, the couch is waiting for me.’

‘you forgot your ice cream,’ he twisted his head back towards the ice cream box. you came back down to earth in that moment and remembered where you were.

‘right, yeah,’ another laugh followed as you took a step towards him. he slid open the freezer from the top and you reached in for your favourite flavour. the door closing again cut through the silence. ‘goodbye, beomgyu.’

he didn’t say anything back. he couldn’t. goodbye, like you were trying to get away from him for the rest of time, like you hoped never to see him again. not a ‘see you around,’ or a simple ‘bye,’ but a goodbye. you were walking away by then as he stood frozen, so he followed you to the cashier.

as the cashier read out your total, beomgyu grabbed his card and placed it over the reader on the machine. you were left speechless, stumbling over your words as your receipt was being printed. you thanked the cashier with a smile but felt your shoulders drop with defeat.

annoyed, you shot him a glare and walked out of the store with your things. he followed behind you without grabbing his own things, the door sliding closed behind him. it was just the two of you staring each other down under the stars and the rain, neither of you knowing how to put this to an end.

‘i’m sorry,’ he spoke. ‘for everything. and i love you, y/n.’

he turned away, heading towards his parking space.

‘come home tonight,’ you called out into the dark, not even sure if he could hear you.

‘where do you think i’m going?’ he turned back around to face you. ‘i am going home.’

‘that’s not your home,’ you defended. ‘you know what i mean.’

‘i can’t do that,’ he sighed. ‘we broke up, i’ve moved out, we don’t even live together anymore.’

‘even if it’s just for one night?’ you frowned, your eyes stinging with oncoming tears.

beomgyu didn’t want just one night, he wanted to erase the past month and go back to how it used to be. it was comfortable and familiar and he loved you too much to let you go, but things had changed. the apartment would look different, you wouldn’t show the same side of you that he’d grown to love. you weren’t the same people anymore, you would never trust him the same way that you used to, and he’d fallen out of love with you. loving you could never compare to the way that he had seen you when he was deeply in love with you, like you were the sun, the moon, and the stars all in one.

‘and then what?’ he sighed. ‘this isn’t going to work.’

‘but why wouldn’t it?’ you felt a tear roll down your cheek.

november 27th,

if anybody was to ask what happened when you and beomgyu broke up, you wouldn’t know what to tell them. you were never sure if he was going to come back to you, but you still never gave up hope. that’s what people in love do, hope.

autumn was your favourite time of the year, or had been. you’d already skipped over halloween, and the novelty of orange leaves and brown clothing was starting to rub off. you wondered if beomgyu had been the thing you loved so much about autumn, because it was the time you fell in love. maybe you weren’t anticipating the season of pumpkins and coffee, maybe you were just looking to feel the same way you had when you first met him.

now that he was gone, everyday felt regular. it wasn’t exciting, there was nothing in the air. you didn’t walk around with a wide smile on your lips, kindly greeting strangers. you rolled your eyes at children jumping in leaf piles, scoffed when somebody ordered a pumpkin spice latte and pushed every cosy jumper to the back of your closet.

all that you had left was yourself. at least, that’s what you told yourself, because in reality you had everyone but him, and in reality, that was much worse.

there were so many missed calls and texts left unread on your phone, the device constantly buzzing on your coffee table. you would simply stare at the tv and switch between a million and one sitting positions in order to find a comfortable one. it always ended with your head hanging down from the couch and your legs thrown over the back of it. no plans, no purpose, no motivation, and time passing you by.

beomgyu was right, everything had changed, including you.

[thatsgay-writes]

Party Time

Slight Spoilers? Not really. Read at your own risk. I am also not a doctor so all medical terms and stuff is slightly googled and not all the way informed.

Not Proofread

You pulled Tara closer to you as the bass of the music made it hard to hear her talk to you. "We should get more drinks!" Tara yells into your ear, voice a little slurred. You motion back an "Okay" before splitting up from her in the dense crowd. You and Tara had been seeing each other for about two months now after you partnered up on a English project for class. You fell head over heels for the girl almost immediately as she made you laugh constantly and would always check you out when she thought you weren't looking. The same could be said for Tara. She had always noticed you in class, the professor's voice droning on and on and on in the background as she stared. She had wanted to go up and talk to you so many times but was always stopped by the fear of what had happened to her and the irrational fear that it could happen again. Not that she would tell her friends or her sister, who was already too over protective of her. She was also scared that she would scare you away. I mean her 3 day hell was posted all over the news for weeks and caused people she had known in school to unfriend her and the rest of her group. But luckily for her, you never really watched the news or kept up to date on most trends. Many people assumed because you threw multiple giant parties every year since high school, that you would be in the know of things but you rarely even scrolled through social media.

It was nice for Tara to meet someone who knew her as just Tara Carpenter, not Tara Carpenter a serial killer survivor with a older sister who was the daughter of a serial killer. Now that you were together though, she still hadn't told you about her past or even meet her friends or sister. She was scared that they would scare you away, especially Sam, or tell you about everything when she needs to be the one to do it.

You and Tara regroup in your kitchen, the music less loud than before and there was no more need to yell. "It looks like your out of almost everything." Tara says as she pokes at a few bottles sitting in ice. You give the girl a mischievous look as you get an idea, "Why don't we raid my dad's stash upstairs and get lost for a few hours?" Tara sends you a very alluring look and allows you to grab her hand and pull her towards the stairs, both of you a little to inebriated to see Anika and Mindy sitting on the couch you pass. Anika tries to stop you and Tara but you both brush her off and keep moving forwards. You whisper a few things in Tara's ear that cause her to laugh as you began to walk up the stairs only to get pulled down and thrown the ground a few seconds later. "Yo, what the fuck!" You say as get your breath back and stand up. The entire house was quiet as Chad stood protectively in front of Tara, who looked worried and scared. You didn't really like Chad because it was clear he had a crush on Tara. "She's not going upstairs with you." Chad sneers as he takes a step closer to you, a couple of your friends start to step forwards but you put out a hand to stop them. If you had been sober, you would have just let the moment pass because you knew Chad was Tara's friend and you cared about Tara, but you were drunk and Chad just disrespected you in your own house. "I suggest you leave before we have a big fucking problem." You tell Chad as you step up to him to a poke a finger into his chest with each word. You can see Tara behind Chad, Mindy, and Anika, all of them guarding her from you like your some kind of monster. The only reason you were going to take a step back was because you could see Tara pleading to you with her eyes and you really didn't want to fight her friends because Tara was going to introduce you to them at some point.

You don't get the chance to take a step back because before you know it, you've been shoved and tased. "Shit!" You yell out in pain as you fall back onto the floor for the second time that night. You can here Tara yell out your name and then her sisters as you see the older girl stand over you for a second before grabbing Tara's arm and dragging her out the house. You struggle to stand, feeling like your getting minor shocks every time you move. "Parties over." You say and when no one moves, you yell. "I said the party is over! Get the hell out of my house!" At that, everyone starts to move, and as one of your friends pass you, you can hear them whisper about Sam. "What a crazy bitch." "Yeah just like her da-" He stops when he sees you glaring at. "Shut up." Is all you say before slowly walking away to start picking up trash. Your friends, and Tara's, look at you confused for a second before they all finally leave as well.

---

"I can't believe you!" Tara yells as she slams the door to her room. She throws herself onto her bed as she sobs. She knew Sam had been over protective since what happened in Woodsboro, but this was way to far. Tasing someone? Tasing you? That crossed a line. "God, they're never going to talk to me again!" Tara yells into her pillow before pulling out her phone to text you, hoping you wouldn't break up with her over this. Please call me. I'm so sorry. And other variations are what she blows up your phone with and when you don't respond in 15 seconds she's calling your phone. "Shit!" Tara yells as she throws her phone onto her bed after the 5th time she gets your voicemail. It felt like everything was starting to crumble. A knock at her door stops her from her tirade. She opens it to see Sam, who looks pale, like she'd seen a ghost." She gives her a puzzled look and allows herself to be led to the living room. The news is on, covering a murder where a mask similar to the one she had seen in her dreams had been found. The apartment is deathly silent as every processes what they are seeing, even the newer people to the group who hadn't lived through what they had but could see the way it still affected their friends.

"We need to leave town. Now." Sam says, leaving no room to argue, as she speed walks to her room. "What? No! We don't know if it is really happening again!" Tara argues, she can't just leave now, not when life was finally settling. "It could be a coincidence that they found that mask! Everyone's dressed up!" Tara argues, the word coincidence cause her to flinch even though she's the one who said it, when is it ever a coincidence. "We're going. I am not risking this being some sort of "coincidence" because I can't risk being wrong and something happening to you." Tara goes to argue again when her phone rings. She lets out a sigh of relief, seeing your contact name and picture pop up but everyone else in the room tenses. Tara picks up the phone with no hesitance, "Hey, I've been calling you. Are you okay? I'm sorry about-" A dark chuckle makes it's way through the phone and Tara has to grab onto the couch as her knees buckle. "Tara, Tara, Tara. Let's play a game shall we? A little preview to the main event." The voice on the other side says and Tara grabs her inhaler while slipping her jacket back on. Her friends around her looking concerned. "You better leave them the fuck alone." Tara grits out as she slides a shoe on. "C'mon where's the spirit? I'll try again. Want to play a game." "No." Is all Tara says and her friends understand what's happening as they stand, ready for anything. "That's too bad, your friend over here is a pretty heavy sleeper. Makes it all a little too easy." At that, Tara is out the door and sprinting down the stairs, her friends fast on her heels. Quinn pulling out her phone to "call" her dad.

"Don't touch them... Please." Tara gasps out, running and talking not helping her much. "No, don't beg. You should have played the-" "Who the hell are you?" Tara can hear you ask in the background and the call immediately disconnects. Tara picks up her speed as she turns the corner, your house finally coming into view. As Tara turns and steps onto your front lawn, she can already see the door left open and can hear that inside is deadly silent. She creeps through the front door slowly, shrugging off her friends hands as they try to stop her, she couldn't lose you. She wouldn't lose you. Her friends were confused as to why the killer would target you and why Tara cared so much. A bang was heard from above as the group entered your living room to find the couches undone and multiple pillows with slashes through them, the glass table flipped and completely shattered. Tara's heart stops as she notice a good amount of blood on the glass.

A bang was heard again and the whole group flinched as they turned towards the stair to go up. Not even an hour ago had they been pulling you down to the ground and away from Tara in the exact same place. "You guys clear the other rooms, stay with a partner. Sam come with me." Tells the group as she slowly walks to your parents room, missing every creaky step in the hall like she had done hundreds of times before. Another bang was heard, this time Tara could tell it was from the closet, causing her to flinch. God, she really hope that it was you. The bang was heard one more time and Tara put her hand on handle, looking back to give Sam a "get ready" look. Tara yanked the door open and you went falling forwards. "Y/n!" Tara said thankfully as she help you stand up and assessing your injuries. You had blood covering your back from what Tara assumes is the living room table and a slice on the arm but other than that you seemed pretty unharmed. Tara finally looks away from your body and to your face and feels like she's going to be sick. You had obvious tears and tear tracks rolling down your face, mouth covered by silver duct tape as were your hands and all Tara could see was herself when she had been in this position. She felt like she was reliving how hopeless and terrified she had been. She reaches up to take the tape off your mouth when she sees your eyes go wide. Before she can even think, you're barreling through the sisters and tackling Ghostface, who was about to stab Sam in the back.

You let out a pained grunt as you landed on the floor, hands still tied so you couldn't catch yourself. Your eyes widen as you feel a knife go through your arm, right above your elbow, and into your side. The sounds of sirens had finally reached the house and Ghostface disappeared, leaving the knife in your arm and side making you feel like a shish kebab. Tara enters your view again and you can see blood rolling down her face from a cut on her forehead. You go to reach out and wipe the tears off her face but flinch as you move. "No! Don't move okay, you need to stay on your side so we don't move the knife around." She says as she carefully rips the duck tape off your mouth. You let out a strangled and broken "Tara" and it causes the girl to cry harder. "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry." She tells you as you feel hands on you turning you over, the movement causing you to yell out. The paramedics getting ready to take care of you, already pushing morphine to help ease your pain. The drugs cause you to tire out, adrenaline draining from your body as you look over to see Tara crying into the arms of her sister, who just looks so confused and scared, before finally passing out.

---

"How long?" Sam asked as she sat in a chair next to your hospital bed, Tara on the opposite side. It had been a week since the new ghost face trio had been taken care of and the hospital was starting to feel too much like a second home again. Mindy was out of the hospital and finally able to fully grieve Anika. Gale was being discharged later that afternoon and you were supposed to be good to go after 24 hours of observation once you woke up. The stab wound to your arm had cut an artery and nicked your lung, adding that injury to the deep wounds from the table and cut on your other arm, you lost so much blood that you passed out and slipped into a coma.

"Two months." Sam nods her head and then cringes. "Sorry about the whole... taser thing." Tara lets out a laugh, the whole situation seeming so much smaller now considering what had happened. "I'm not really the one you should apologize to." Tara says motioning to you and Sam nods her head. It's silent for a moment before Same speaks up again. "Why... Why didn't you tell us? Or me?" Tara looks away, ashamed and kind of embarrassed. "You know I'll always love you for you right?" Tara nods her head, "Of course I know that. It's just... You were so overbearing and I was around you and everyone else 24/7 and it felt so nice to have something that was finally mine. Something that didn't remind me of Woodsboro... Someone that didn't already have some preconceived notion about us." Sam looks at Tara confused, "They don't know about Woodsboro?" Tara laughs, "Yeah, besides keeping up with artists, music, some sports, and sometimes videogames, they don't really watch the news or anything like that." Tara's smile slowly disappears, "But I guess that's over now. I mean how do I even explain that they almost died just for loving me?"

"I think that's a pretty good way to say it." You mumble out as you give Tara's hand a weak squeeze. "Y/n!" She says with glee as she pulls you into a gentle but loving kiss. "Your awake! Same go get a nurse or something! You have no idea how sorry I am Y/n, I understand if you want to break up with me." Tara says all in one breath, Sam leaves the room to get a nurse but makes sure to take a scenic route, so the two of you have time to talks. "I kinda have a confession to make too." You tell Tara as you held her hand. "I lied, I knew about Woodsboro. I mean it's hard not to after they reran the story months on end... And of course, Gale's book." Tara feels her heart stop. "What..." "Please don't get mad. I never meant to lie. It's just you seemed so at ease when I made it seem like I didn't know. My love for you isn't fake or anything, I love the real Tara. Not the one they tried to portray to the world. And us being partnered up in english was truly by chance."

Tara's quiet and you are so scared you ruined everything. "Well.. I am hurt that you lied to me, but to be fair I did think I was keeping a life ruining secret from you. So I guess we can call it even?" A wide smile grows on your face. "Perfect... Now what did I miss?" You ask as you eye her sling. Tara's face falls. "A lot."

Word Count: 2725

A lot of ppl reading this 😳 if u have any other scream ideas lmk.

[thistledropkick]

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)

[munchmemes]

taylor swift lyrics, ttpd: the anthology edition, part two

i look in people's windows

▸ i had died the tiniest death. ▸ i spied the catch in your breath. ▸ i still ponder what it meant. ▸ does it feel alright to not know me? ▸ i'm addicted to the 'if only'. ▸ i look in people's windows like i'm some deranged weirdo.

the prophecy

▸ i got cursed like eve got bitten. ▸ i guess a lesser [person] would've lost hope, a greater [person] wouldn't beg. ▸ please, i've been on my knees. ▸ i don't want money, just someone who wants my company. ▸ who do i have to speak to about if they can redo the prophecy? ▸ i'm feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen. ▸ even statues crumble if they're made to wait. ▸ i'm so afraid i sealed my fate.

cassandra

▸ in the streets there's a raging riot. ▸ when the truth comes out it's quiet. ▸ do you believe me now? ▸ they say, what doesn't kill you makes you aware. ▸ they knew. they knew the whole time. ▸ blood's thick but nothing like a payroll. ▸ i was onto something. they all said nothing. ▸ no one heard. not a single word was heard.

peter

▸ is it something i did? ▸ i thought it was just goodbye for now. ▸ you said you were gonna grow up then you were gonna come find me. ▸ promises oceans deep but never to keep. ▸ are you still a mind reader? ▸ life was always easier on you than it was on me. ▸ we both did the best we could do underneath the same moon. ▸ love's never lost when perspective is earned. ▸ the shelf life of those fantasies has expired. ▸ forgive me, [name], please know that i tried to hold on to the days when you were mine.

the bolter

▸ i can confirm i made a curious child. ▸ excellent fun till you get to know them. ▸ oh, we must stop meeting like this. ▸ all my fucking lives flashed before my eyes. ▸ i've been many places with men of many faces. ▸ hearts are mine for the breaking. ▸ there's escape in escaping.

robin

▸ long may you reign. ▸ you're an animal. you are bloodthirsty. ▸ way to go, tiger. ▸ you look ridiculous and you have no idea. ▸ buried down deep and out of your reach the secret we all vowed to keep from you. ▸ you have no room in your dreams for regrets. ▸ the time will arrive for the cruel and the mean. ▸ you'll learn to bounce back just like your trampoline.

the manuscript

▸ i'm not a donor but i'd give you my heart if you needed it. ▸ if the sex is half as good as the conversation is, we'll soon be pushing strollers. ▸ afterward i only ate kids' cereal. ▸ years passed like scenes of a show. ▸ looking backwards might be the only way to move forward. ▸ at last, i know what the agony has been for. ▸ now and then i re-read the manuscript but the story isn't mine anymore.

[stars1997]

Lover Boy - part 2

Warnings: A little friskiness

Pairing(s): Jeremy Swayman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N Ullmark gets a job with the Bruins as their new photographer. They haven't seen each other in a few years, some things have changed. What happens when her brother's best friend develops a crush on her?

_______________________________________________

“I’ll take another drink please!” I slur, unaware of Jer behind me mouthing No more, to the bartender.

“Come on peeps, you have to work tomorrow night,” Jer said, locking hands with me to pull me out of the bar.

I look at him in shock, he just used the nickname he gave to me years ago. That shock was gone as fast as it came when I realized that he was trying to take me back home.

“Are we going back to yours or mine?” I ask with a smirk, drunkenly placing my hand on his chest.

“I’m going to take you home, you’ll thank me for this tomorrow,” Sway said sweetly.

“Or I could thank you now.” A smirk makes its way across my face as my hand starts to slide down his chest. His hand grabbed mine before it could go any lower.

He then turned me around and led me to the passenger side of the truck, unlocking and opening the door for me to get in.

I lean forward over the seat, my hands gripping the center console as I try to pull myself up and into the car. I let out a yelp as my foot slipped off the sidebar. Sway moved a little closer offering his hand to help.

“I got it Jer.” I announced, rolling my eyes slightly. I tried again and slipped once more. This time I lost my grip on the console, not able to catch myself. Sway grabbed me before I could hit the ground.

“Whoa there bud, I thought you had it,” Sway said, laughing at my dismay.

“Shhhhh,” I said, so quietly it was basically to myself. I got into the truck, finally without slipping. Jer shut the door and I could see him laughing from the rearview mirror.

He got into the truck and started to drive me home.

“Hey, you can’t laugh at me. I had to drink for two since someone wasn’t drinking.”

“I had to drive you home Y/n , you want to make it home in one piece, right?” He joked.

“I know I know, you would never drink and drive,” I said, I let a few minutes pass by before asking. “Hey can I see your phone, I just wanna play some music.”

He grabs the phone from the center console and passes it to me.

“Password is 1111.” He says, never taking his eyes off the road.

“How original,” I say as I scroll through his playlists trying to find a song. “Ah, I got one,” I said as I clicked on Baby by Justin Bieber.

His eyes widened. “I only have this song for my niece I swear.”

“I don’t judge Jer,” I said before breaking out in song.

“You got a wonderful voice. I can’t imagine why you didn’t become a singer.” Jer said.

Even while drunk I could sense the sarcasm in his voice, but it didn’t bother me.

Suddenly my phone rang. I looked down to see who it was. Bubba was written across the top of the call.

I tried my best to put on a sober voice (which failed) and picked up the phone.

“Hey, Bubba,” I say.

“Hey Bubs, are you coming home any time soon, it’s late I wanna lock up.”

“Yes, Sway is bringing me home right now!” I slur. “Don’t worry he’s taken very good care of me tonight, he was such a gentleman he even helped me into the truck when I kept falling.”

A couple of seconds of silence.

“How many drinks have you had tonight Bubs.” My big brother asks over the phone, his voice kind of sharp.

“Bubba you know I’m a lightweight, I only had like.. three,” I answered.

“Do me a favor, pass the phone to Sway.” He asks, nicely.

So I do.

“Here he wants to talk to you,” I say putting the phone up to Jer’s ear, he takes it from me and starts talking to my brother.

The last thing I remember is falling asleep in the truck to the softness of Jer’s voice.

_________________________

I woke up with a groan, the sunlight far too bright through the sheer white curtains hanging in my room. I slowly climb out of bed and make my way to the kitchen. I check the time on the microwave, 1 pm. Damn, I missed practice. The sound of the front door closing abruptly, makes me jolt.

“Bubs are you up?!” My brother yells from the door, making my head pound.

“Shhh, you’re too loud,” I say in response. I open the cabinet and grab some Advil.

“My apologies queen bee. Hope you don’t mind, your best friend is here.” He says, coming around the corner with sway.

“Hey, brought you this,” Jer said, throwing me a breakfast sandwich from Dunkin. “And this.” He continued, sliding a blue Gatorade down the counter towards me. I send him a smile as a thank you and they head off into the living room.

_________________________

The Bruins won the game tonight. The score was 4-0. With Jer able to get a shutout I was able to get some good shots of the boys congratulating him. I was also able to get some good photos of the bear hug. I then spent the rest of the night editing the videos and photos to put on the Bruins’ Instagram.

[erikahenningsen]

🎲🎲🎲 26 for rejanis ?

26. A kiss while one or both parties are crying

Janis always assumed that being with Regina would be big—big drama, big highs and big lows, big romantic gestures and big fights. And it is like that, sometimes.

But as they get older, Janis finds she loves the little things. The mundane things. Even the things that slightly (or greatly) irritate her. The things that only come with spending time, day in and day out, with Regina.

The nice—and occasionally obscenely expensive—things that Regina might buy for her are appreciated, but what Janis really loves is how Regina knows not only her coffee order, but exactly at what point in her workday she needs one delivered right to her desk.

Janis loves that Regina will send her photos of dogs she sees on the street, even though Regina doesn't really like dogs—but Janis loves them.

Janis loves that Regina will always pour her drinks into this silly souvenir cup she got at a fair the summer before they started college, even though it doesn't match any of their other cups.

And in turn, Janis pairs all of their socks before putting them away when she does laundry, even though she doesn't take issue with putting on the first two socks she pulls out of the drawer, regardless of whether they match. Janis makes sure that anytime she orders a burger or sandwich for Regina that there are no pickles on it, because even if she pulls them off Regina claims she can still taste them. And Janis doesn't mess with the organization of the hall closet, even though she still sometimes burns with the desire to purposely annoy Regina.

It's on one of those mundane Thursday evenings that Janis looks over at Regina curled up on the other end of the couch and blurts, "I love you."

Regina, who had been sitting still, eyes on the television, somehow manages to freeze. She doesn't look at Janis, and a long moment passes before she wordlessly stands up and walks out of the room.

For a minute, Janis just sits there, dumbfounded. Maybe Regina went to get something? Some kind of gift she's been saving for this moment? Or maybe she is so disgusted by Janis's declaration that she had to go throw up. The longer Janis sits here with no sign of Regina's return, the more ridiculous the scenarios she's running through become.

When it becomes clear that Regina isn't coming back, Janis starts to get irritated. Really irritated. Because what the fuck kind of reaction is this?

Janis stands and heads down the hallway, finding their bedroom door slightly ajar. She pokes her head in and sees Regina sitting on their bed, staring at her hands.

"Hey, uh," Janis says, "what the fuck?"

Regina finally looks at her then, and Janis is startled to realize Regina, who almost never cries, is crying.

"Oh, Gi," Janis says, moving to sit next to Regina. "Is it really so terrible that I said I love you?"

Regina hastily wipes at her eyes, as if she has just realizes that she's crying. "Sorry," she says quietly.

"Look, you don't have to say it back right now, although eventually would be nice." Janis takes one of Regina's hands in hers.

"No, I—" Regina pauses, seeming to gather her words. "Janis, I spent so many years thinking that this would never happen—that we would never be together, let alone that you would... love me. I just needed a minute."

Regina turns to her with such an honest look on her face that it takes Janis's breath away. She squeezes Regina's hand.

"Well, believe it," Janis says, reaching one hand up to cup Regina's cheek, brushing away the tears with her thumb. "Because I am here, and I love you."

That seems to make Regina's tears come faster, but Janis thinks that a good thing. Maybe. Unable to resist, she leans forward and kisses Regina. It's soft and tender, a tangible representation of her words. Regina melts—there's really no other way to describe it—leaning into Janis and making a small, soft sound that makes Janis's skin start tingling.

Regina pulls back slightly, close enough that Janis can feel their lips brush when she whispers, "I love you, too."

It makes Janis break into a wide, goofy grin. Regina rolls her eyes a little, but there's a smile tugging at her lips, too.

"Are you mad that I said it first?" Janis asks, unable to resist goading Regina. "You can be honest with me."

Regina reaches behind her to grab a pillow and whack Janis with it.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not telling someone I wasn't their bully 100% of the time

Hey so I was a shitty kid and i willbe TA for most of the story. However the ambiguous non-ending spins around my head nonstop

! In high-school I met a friend, Lacy (mtf) who had recently come out. We bonded over mutual Fandoms and shared classes and ended up pooling friends. I was already tight friends with one other girl we can call Sam. Sam went to another school but me and her had been best friends for many years and talked constantly online. After spending a lot of time with Lacy, and with L and S in a group, I started to get a little crush. Me and Lacy had this habit of passing comic notes to eachother between classes and they were just so fun. Anyways I ended up passing them one asking them out and she agreed. We talked about it casually after and I kept the note. In the background, me and Sam talk constantly about Lacy. Outside of school, online, Lacy often goes on long rants and tangents and caps it off being painfully self depreciating and insinuating self harm. I honestly don't hold that against her too much, given how young we were and how much stuff was going on. Very quickly I realize this tiny crush evaporates in the heat of her stomping rants. My gut sinks when Lacy mentions we are dating. It's been less than a day. Sam messages me immediately and I make the terrible snap decision to lie. I lie about it and I have the evidence so my version becomes correct. I tell Sam I didn't *really* ask Lacy out, blah blah. The lie doesn't end. Lacy has an explosive breakdown about it, well warranted, and I lie to adults and school administrators as well. We were friends, I guess she got too attached, we talk all the time but no. I never asked her to date. Papers signed, case closed. Lacy blocks me everywhere. The year ends. I resign to never speaking to her, as the unquestioned bully in this situation I wouldn't have the right to approach her about it. I think I send one anon ask completely unrelated to her or our lives, then block her back as is only fair.

Short hop forwards a month or two. Sam sends me a message about an update to Lacys blog. Lacy is otherkin and Sam is laughing at the kin list, sending anon messages mocking Lacy about the choices and identity. Very unfamiliar with otherkin but struggling with gender thoughts myself I don't respond much.

Fast forward a few years. Me and Sam don't talk much now. I got a boyfriend and couldn't help love how much he ignored me. Everything else fell through cracks. Working at my restaurant job one day, who else comes in but Lacy. We are very busy, I try to be quick, don't make eye contact. "Party of....for Lacy?" She nods. The lobby is full so they walk out the door and never come back. Later when my shift is over I unblock and check her blog. She's made a post saying I was her abuser and had sent her constant anon hate since bullying her in hs. Checking her ask tag I see Sam on anon sends 3-6 hate messages a year. I do nothing and leave everyone be and move on.

Another 3 years goes by. Sam reaches out. She's terminally ill, and we speak stiffly for a few IMs. I don't forgive myself for leaving her and decide it's best we don't keep talking. Another few years and Sam passes. Our old friends go through Sam's papers and pc files reminiscing and find pages and pages of shared chat logs between me L and S. It really was a harsh reminder of how cruel I had been, speaking behind Lacys back and lying. I don't doubt I caused her lasting trauma with my actions.

Part of me wanted to reach out to Lacy and apologize, explaining myself and the misunderstanding and clearing the lie not because I wanted to feel absolved I just that it's finally done now. But it feels so cruel to do it when 1. As the original bully it's still not my place to seek closure 2. I can't just toss my friends corpse under this bus for no reason.

It's soon a decade since we all left school so the time seems well past. I just can't stop thinking about all the mistakes. And there seems no reason to bring it all up after all Sam can't say anything about it anymore and nobody is hurt believing i said these things. So, AITA for not telling Lacy it wasn't me bullying her most of the time?

What are these acronyms?